Chapter 40
I've Got You
Olivia
“Is it in yet?” I ask, peering down at Rhys with a frown.
His face scrunches up in concentration. “No… not yet,” he says in a tight voice.
I sigh heavily. This is taking far too long, especially since we could be caught at any moment. Something neither of us wants. “Can’t you just shove it in?”
Rhys flicks his gaze up at me, annoyance flashing in his amber eyes. “No, I can’t just shove it in. This takes finesse and a practised hand. Now shut up so I can do this properly.”
Even though he’s the expert in this, I can’t help but glance at the broken garage door windows as impatience eats away at me.
While Luke and his goons have left us alone for the entire day, the sun is setting, meaning sooner or later, they’re going to come back to exact revenge.
Revenge that I’m sure is going to be even more painful and humiliating than the last interrogation session.
Rhys grunts as he shifts his weight, his shoulders tensing and his eyes narrowing. There’s a small click followed by a slew of curses from his lips that have my eyebrows shooting upward. With a huff, he withdraws and sits back on his heels.
“So much for that practised hand,” I mutter under my breath, unable to help myself.
He snaps his narrowed gaze at me. “As soon as we’re out of here and have talked about boundaries, you’re going over my knee and I’ll show you what this practised hand can do.”
Don’t threaten me with a good time, is what I want to say, but I have enough survival instincts not to say that to his face this time. At least, not until I know how bad the punishment will be.
If we ever get out of here.
Shaking his head, Rhys turns his attention back to the door and removes the Swiss Army knife. He’s been using the smaller knife alongside one of the flimsy bucket handles to pick the lock on the door. Unfortunately, judging from the glare he’s levelling at the doorknob, it hasn’t gone well. Again.
The elation from grabbing the knife from the gang member is long gone since I’ve lost count of how many attempts we’ve made to pick the lock on this door. Hell, even I gave it a go although I failed miserably because I’ve never picked a lock in my life.
Our options are quickly disappearing, leaving us with little choice but to take risks.
I turn away from the door, unable to stand staring at it any longer, otherwise I might just fall into a pit of despair.
But it’s hard. I’m desperate to see Theo and Alex again, to feel their arms around me and their lips against mine.
I’m terrified that Andy will have turned while we’ve been held captive and I miss Tobias and Rachel and the other people I’ve come to know at Haven.
“If we’re not getting through that door, we’ll need to think about trying the garage door,” I say, shoving aside my thoughts before I can spiral and turn my attention to the door in question.
Lucky for us, it’s an older style door, with the lock and handle stationed in the middle of it. It’s rusted and obviously at least three decades old, if not older, but I’m hoping that’ll be to our advantage and the lock will be easier to force.
Rhys turns to stare at the door and shakes his head. “You know as well as I do, the moment they hear us attempting to break that lock, they’ll be on us in less than a minute.”
“Unless there’s a louder noise to cover it up,” I say, still clinging to the idea because the alternative is to take them by surprise when they come back for us. Something that could easily lead to our deaths.
“Which hasn’t happened since they left us.” He sighs. “Face it, Ollie, either way we’re gearing up for a fight.”
Well, isn’t that reassuring?
I hug my piece of the blanket closer around my body—we used the knife to slice it into two pieces—and pace around the room, looking for anything that could get us out of here.
Nervous energy rides me hard, making it impossible for me to stay still even though I know I should conserve myself for the fight to come.
Rhys watches me with a mixture of exasperation and understanding before he turns to the door and tries picking it again.
I’m not sure how much time passes when we hear the first bang. I jump, my gaze snapping to the door that Rhys is kneeling in front of as another bang echoes from behind it.
Rhys pauses and frowns. “What the—”
“You stupid bitch! I told you to keep your cover and you’ve completely blown it!” Luke roars from somewhere in the house.
There are several more bangs, one even sounding like flesh hitting flesh, followed by a feminine scream. Rhys and I exchange wide-eyed looks.
What the hell is happening?
“They figured me out! It’s not my fault you fucked up and didn’t get rid of the others like I told you to,” a vaguely familiar voice shouts back, although I can’t place them. “If you’d followed the plan, I’d still be there and you’d have all the info you needed!”
Rhys stiffens, shock and horror on his face as he slowly turns back to the door. That quickly morphs into anger as his expression turns thunderous. “That traitorous harpy,” he growls under his breath.
I move closer to him as Luke shouts more insults at the mystery woman. “Who is that?”
“Elsa,” he says, still glaring at the door. “She must have been working with Luke this entire time.”
I’m desperate to know why, but now isn’t the time, not when we can use this screaming match to our advantage. “We should try the garage door while they’re still making this much noise,” I tell him.
He shakes himself, clearing the shock and anger from his face, and nods. He moves over to the garage door and inspects the lock. “This is going to be tricky with so little light. Are you sure this will work?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just know that’s how my dad once opened our garage when we lost the key.” Granted, it was nearly twenty years ago, and brute-forcing it might not work on this lock, but what choice do we have?
Rhys sucks in a deep breath. “Alright, if this works, it’s going to be fully dark outside, and those two screaming at each other, plus the noise from opening the door will alert any infected in the area.
We’re going to have to leg it as soon as we’re outside so I need you to stay with me and do whatever I say. ”
I fight the urge to bristle at his tone and the stern look he’s giving me.
“I’m not fucking around, Ollie. This is probably the most dangerous situation we’ve ever been in. I need you to listen to me.”
I glare at him. “I’m not an idiot, Rhys,” I say through gritted teeth.
His gaze softens. “I know you’re not, but sometimes you’re too brave for your own good.” He palms the back of my head and pulls my forehead to his lips. “I just want you safe.”
My eyes flutter closed as I relax against him. While our captivity has been nothing but a nightmare, the one good thing to come out of it is Rhys showing his more vulnerable side. A part of him I’m quickly falling for, especially when he can be so damn sweet.
His lips linger for a moment before he pulls away. “So you’d better behave,” he says, the softness gone from his voice.
Well, it was nice while it lasted. “I won’t do anything stupid,” I say, refusing to promise outright that I’ll follow his orders because there will probably be a time where I won’t. Especially if following orders means leaving him behind or putting him in more danger.
From the frown on his face, he’s not pleased because he understands what I’m not saying. But instead of calling me out, he just sighs and turns his attention to the garage door.
The argument between Luke and Elsa is still raging on in the house and getting louder by the second. So they don’t hear when Rhys shoves the knife into the keyhole and aggressively snaps it. The lock groans and creaks, the sound echoing around the room, only barely drowned out by the shouting.
“Come on, you piece of shit,” Rhys growls under his breath as he grits his teeth and wrenches the knife as hard as he can to the side.
There’s a deafening snap as the lock breaks, causing the garage door to shudder. It’s so loud that I have to clap my hands over my ears or risk going deaf. I remove my hands once the door stops shaking, my body tensing and eyes widening at the eerie silence in the room. And in the house behind us.
Oh fuck.
Rhys grimaces and yanks the knife out of the lock, causing the metal to screech. That’s when the shouting starts, only it’s getting closer along with the thundering of footsteps.
Luke and his goons are coming for us.
Rhys shoves at the bottom of the garage door, causing the metal to groan and clank as it swings upward. Icy air blasts our faces and our bodies, even through the blankets, chilling us to the point where we’re at serious risk of hypothermia.
“Let’s go!” Rhys hisses as he grabs my arm and yanks me out of the garage and onto the driveway.
Our feet slap on the concrete, the surface so cold it burns my soles as we race away from the house and down the road.
The street outside is dark and still and looks to be part of an older housing estate.
Rusted cars dot the road, some turned on their sides while others have doors wide open, showing the stained seats and moulding interiors.
The houses aren’t in better shape. There’s broken windows, splintered doors and singed bricks, and that’s just the houses that are left standing.
Others have been rendered as nothing more than piles of rubble.
And in the darkness, just as Rhys predicted, is the glow of several pairs of zombie eyes. Their moans echo eerily in the night, followed by the unmistakable sound of them shuffling towards us as we sprint down the street.
Glass, bricks and other debris litter the frozen ground, turning our desperate escape into some kind of fucked-up assault course as we dodge the worst of it as best we can. Although from the searing pain from my feet, we’re not succeeding.
But I still keep running even as my lungs burn from both the exertion and the frigid air.