Chapter 29 Tallus #3
The third time I angled for the platform, my shoe caught. Somehow, through sheer force of will, I managed to get over the rail with only a few scrapes and bruises and collapsed on the other side with a groan.
“That was quite the acrobatic feat for someone whose idea of cardio is running to the bathroom during commercial breaks,” Diem called from below.
“I hate cable TV. We should only stream. That way I can pause it.” I lay still, unable to move as I caught my breath and dreamed of feather beds and manservants.
“Did you pass out?”
“No. I can’t feel my arms. Give me a sec.” When I finally got to my feet, the jerk applauded.
I peered down at my smug boyfriend and stuck out my tongue. “You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re as graceful as a cow on roller skates.”
“Screw you. That was perfectly graceful. In fact, I’m going to audition for Cirque du Soleil.”
He snorted. “That I’d like to see.”
“What part? The audition or me in a leotard?”
The bear in his chest awoke as he readjusted his junk.
“Too easy.”
“You’re fucking trouble. Go do your job. Meet me at the front door.”
The apartment where I landed was empty. No signs of renovation. The door to the hallway was unlocked. The unlit corridor beyond was swamped in impenetrable darkness. No emergency lights guided me to a stairwell. Nothing but an abyss.
When I reached for my phone and found my pocket empty, I cursed.
Diem hadn’t returned it, so I didn’t have a flashlight either.
The one I’d used at the storage unit was in the Jeep.
With one hand on the wall, I inched along, testing doors as I passed them, looking for a stairwell. I found numerous empty apartments.
By the time I located the stairs, I was convinced I was being followed.
I had no evidence to support this theory.
In fact, since entering the building, I’d heard nothing to indicate it was occupied.
But, for all I knew, those people from earlier had watched us from the window and knew I was up here.
Were they dangerous? Stalking me?
Were they armed?
Were they vampires?
The stairwell opened into the lobby. The main door to my right showed Diem’s silhouette. Still, I heard no sounds of life. I moved quickly to let him in.
“What took you so long?”
“I couldn’t see a thing. You still have my phone.”
Grimacing, he searched a pocket and returned it. “Did you hear anyone?”
“No. The apartment doors were unlocked on the second level. No signs of renovation. It’s eerily quiet.”
“Come on.”
I let Diem go first. He angled for the rooms I’d claimed were occupied that afternoon. The first floor was set up differently from the second. The collection of rooms might have been used for functions or offices at one time, but they weren’t intended as living spaces.
We located the kitchen area, but it was empty.
Diem flicked on the light, proving there was electricity.
Signs of occupation remained. Furniture.
Dirty dishes in the sink. Cereal boxes and bread bags lined the counter.
A coffee machine with the dregs of morning brew in the carafe.
The fridge was stocked with milk, cheese, and all sorts of condiments. None of it spoiled.
Extinguishing the light, we moved on.
The next room was what I’d coined the dormitory. Diem pressed his ear to the door and listened. He shook his head and opened it slowly and quietly, locating the light and flicking it on.
I wasn’t sure what I expected. Shocked faces? A sudden attack?
Bats?
I flinched, but nothing happened.
We were greeted by a vacated room. A half-dozen cots lined two walls, all empty. The rumpled blankets suggested the occupants had left in a hurry. Clothing lay strewn about. A backpack, wedged partway under a bed, spilled its contents on the floor.
“They left in a hurry,” I said.
Diem approached a table positioned between two beds and picked up a cell phone someone had left behind, still plugged into a charger. He keyed the side button but shook his head. “Password protected.”
“Do you think Lukyan came here after he raced away from the storage facility and evacuated the place?”
“I think that’s exactly what happened. We probably just missed them.”
“Where did they go?”
“No idea.”
“What about the banker boxes?”
“Probably gone.”
“Shit.”
We continued our search, discovering the workspace with its cubicles and dark computers. No boxes. No people. Diem sat at one station and tapped the power button.
Nothing happened.
He checked the cords to be sure it was plugged in, but when that didn’t work, he shifted to a new station. Same non-response. I tried a computer in the next row, but it didn’t turn on either.
“What’s wrong with them?” I asked.
Diem didn’t respond and crawled around the floor, following the tangle of wires, trying to locate the problem. Growling in frustration, he got to his feet a few minutes later and scanned the room, hands propped on his hips.
“Is the power cut to the computers?” I asked.
“No.” His gaze landed on the station nearest him, a dip appearing between his brows. “Son of a bitch.”
“What?”
He approached and tugged a USB from a port before moving to the next station and removing one from it. Every computer in the room had a similar USB inserted. He turned one over in his hand, examining it.
“What is it?”
“My guess? A USB killer. Lukyan’s fail-safe plan in case this room, whatever it is, was compromised.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A USB killer was technically manufactured to test surge protection, but they are also used to fry motherboards. He’s got one in every computer, and my guess is, he had them set up with remote access so he could activate the destructive surge from his phone if his operation came under threat of discovery.
These computers are fucked.” Diem kicked a chair, and it rolled into the wall.
“Whatever they contained has been obliterated.”