Chapter 17 #2
It’s a valiant attempt. A bumblebee flying at someone’s face will make them instinctually flinch away. Vale stumbles back half a step, flinging out a hand to swat at him.
Her palm makes contact and he hits the wall and falls to the floor.
She lifts her booted foot.
That’s when I hit her with the metal folding chair.
It’s less impressive than it sounds. Without room to maneuver, I slam it into her knees.
The sudden stinging pain makes her stagger back and she whirls on me.
I hit her again, this time aiming for her wrists.
The gun hits the floor, spinning away. Snarling in fury, she makes a grab for the chair. It jerks back and forth between us.
My jacket and all my supplies are scattered on the floor.
Vale should never have left the pepper spray within reach.
I snatch it up with one hand, aim it haphazardly, and spray at her.
She reacts with impressive speed, turning her face and squeezing her eyes shut. I shove her hard, releasing the chair.
She hits the concrete floor flat on her back. I hear the breath leave her in a rush, the choking gasp as she tries to inhale. Then the pepper spray catches in her throat and she begins coughing.
I don’t go for her gun; I don’t try to fight her. I can’t fight, not with a sedative still dragging at my every move. Instead, I snatch my visor and my ringware from the desk.
“Edgar,” I gasp. He is on the floor, half stumbling as he tries to walk. I scoop him up, holding him to the computer port. With my other hand, I jam my visor back into place.
“Lock the basement down,” I snap. “Set it for a thirty-second delay. Now, Edgar.”
I might not be able to stop Vale, but perhaps we can trap her here.
“Righto,” he says. His single working leg extends, pressing into the port.
My heartbeat is deafening in my ears. Everything is taking too long—an eternity of waiting. Vale is trying to rise, wildly wiping at her eyes and searching for her gun.
“Got it,” says Edgar triumphantly, pulling his leg free.
I cup my fingers around his fragile body and sprint for the door. A bullet hits the frame, kicking up dust and making me flinch.
Then I’m out of the room. Twenty-five seconds. That’s all we have to escape this basement or be trapped with Vale.
The basement is lit only by emergency lighting.
My pupils ache as they try to compensate but there’s no time.
I reach up to switch my visor to night mode, and at once the hallway plunges into a strangely green quality.
But at least I can see everything. I turn to my left, hurling myself into the half dark.
We have to get to the stairs before the doors lock down.
“Twenty seconds,” says Edgar helpfully.
“Thanks,” I grate out.
A door clatters behind me, but I don’t bother to turn and look.
That will only waste the precious seconds we have.
Instead, I hunch over and weave back and forth as I run.
It’s maddeningly hard to hit an unpredictable target, even for people experienced with guns.
Something pings off an overhead vent and sparks scatter to the floor like electric rain drops.
I rush around a corner toward the stairs.
I just have to reach them. Get out of the basement.
Let Vale be trapped behind me. She’ll still have the mainframe but I don’t know what she damaged when she shot those computers.
Maybe she won’t be able to use her ringware to reopen the doors.
She might have doomed her own plans trying to take down Edgar.
The stairwell comes into view and I pump my legs harder.
“Fourteen seconds,” says Edgar.
I’m going to make it. We’re going to make it.
I push open the doors to the stairwell and look up.
Right into the face of Corey.
He has a semiautomatic in one hand and a radio in the other.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. I don’t think he expected to run—almost literally—into me. Perhaps he came running after Edgar took over the comms.
“What,” he says, and reaches for me. Probably because he isn’t sure if Vale still needs me.
My shoulders hit the door and I fumble for the knob, flinging myself into reverse.
A flicker of movement makes me jerk back just in time. Vale is perhaps thirty feet away, her own weapon raised. A bullet punctures the door and there is a shout from the stairwell.
Good. Maybe she just shot her own minion.
But I’m still trapped between them: Corey in the stairs and Vale behind me. I turn and sprint to my right, down another basement corridor. “We are heading away from the stairs,” says Edgar in my ear.
“I know,” I mutter. Something shatters to my left and I duck.
And then the doors begin to close. It starts at the end of the hallway, where an older door has been barred off. Then a storage closet swings shut and the lock clicks into place. Then another one, and another and another.
I hiss out a curse. “Damn it, Edgar.”
“You told me to lock everything down!” he says defensively.
I look around wildly. There has to be some way out of here. On impulse I seize a janitor’s cart and wedge it in the nearest doorway I can find. I’ll need a place to hide if I can’t find another set of stairs. Surely there’s another escape route or else—
The basement locks down. There’s a hiss of sealing vents and the whisper of dead bolts.
And then everything goes quiet.
I stand there, in the darkened hallway, panting. My chest heaves with exertion and I still feel vaguely drugged.
“You think Vale got out?” I ask softly.
“I have no idea,” says Edgar.
As quietly as I can, I make my way back to the basement doors.
They are closed. Along with every smart apartment in this building, they’ve been locked down. And now I’m trapped, just like everyone else.
I step closer to the doors. They aren’t bulletproof; the hole puncturing the metal and wood is proof enough of that. I raise my fist and knock a familiar rhythm.
Shave and a haircut.
I step back quickly, out of the line of fire.
And then I hear the answering knock.
Two bits.