Chapter 4
Chapter Four
I scramble to the door that holds the flat’s heating boiler and—being mindful of Daisy—shove myself inside.
Gah, the space is tight. I barely fit. As I wiggle, air from my puffy coat tickles the back of my neck as it compresses.
I press my thumb to the hidden panel on the left and the electric lock disengages, causing the panel to pop open.
With a groan, I drop to my hands and knees. I drag my laptop bag behind me as I crawl into the dark hidey-hole.
When my dad set this emergency exit up, I laughed and laughed.
I mean, who needs a hidden exit? Not me.
As I close the door, I burn my hand on the hot water pipe, causing me to hiss.
Bloody thing. Yeah, I thought my dad was crazy, and along with the stupid panic room, it was a complete waste of money.
I’m not laughing anymore. The escape hatch, as I lovingly call it, is now the best thing ever.
It’s a hidden ladder that runs perpendicular with my building’s lift shaft that will take me safely down to the ground floor and into the maintenance room.
With a little more room to move and in almost total darkness, I strap my laptop bag onto my back. Crikey, I wonder how many spiders are in this area at the moment? Perhaps not being able to see is a good thing. I try to ignore the feeling of cobwebs tickling the top of my head and face. I shudder.
Oh shit, on top of everything that’s happening, I am going to have to grovel to Dad.
I will have to listen to an epic “I told you so” lecture.
Well, if I get out of this alive… I roll my eyes at the thought.
If all goes well, I should be able to sneak out of the building with no one seeing me. Bye-bye, mercenary Power Rangers.
I swing myself onto the ladder. My heart jumps in panic and I yelp as my clunky boots make me miss the step. As my left leg dangles into the black abyss, I scramble to curl my arms around the ladder and hang on for dear life.
Shit, what a time to find out that I don’t do climbing.
I get my shaking foot back where it should be as my chin digs into the rung above me. Perhaps putting all my gear on before I escaped wasn’t such a good idea. A bead of sweat runs down the side of my face and my cheeks radiate heat. Nope, not a good idea. Not at all.
Frozen in fear, I hang on the ladder. My heart thuds and my knees knock together. I lick my lips. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara. Gah, I feel sick.
I drop my eyes and peek at Daisy. She seems perfectly content. I can hear her nibbling on her food. I grit my teeth and force myself to move my right leg. I can’t hang around here all night. As long as I don’t look down and I take my time, I’m going to be fine.
I screw my eyes closed and blow out a breath. With a clang, I slide my right foot off the rung and toe the next one below. I make sure my boot is completely balanced on the rung and then I cautiously let go of my death grip on the ladder and allow myself to step down.
Okay. I am okay.
I keep doing it, counting each step in my head as I go.
It seems like it takes forever. When my boots hit the solid concrete floor of the maintenance room, my knees buckle and my entire body shakes with residual adrenaline.
I’m alive. I am alive. I want to cry and kiss the ground at my feet.
But I refrain, ’cause that would be minging.
I look up at the never-ending ladder above me with a shudder. Nope, I never want to do that again. It’s like I’ve just climbed down Mount Everest. My arms and hands are aching.
Fuck you escape hatch.
When I move away from the ladder, the whole thing shimmers and disappears. It’s hidden by a long-lasting Don’t See Me Now Potion.
With a cautious peek out the fire exit to see if the coast is clear, my boots teeter on the step as I pause on the threshold.
Oh crap. I hope there are no bad guys out there.
I take a deep—if not shaky—breath and coax myself to move outside.
You can do this, Tuesday. My whole body tenses as I move, and the outside air whooshes around me.
I am in a tight alley at the back of the building. I flatten myself to the wall.
No one is here. I am okay. It’s okay. No one is out here. I push the door firmly closed and my back scrapes against the red brick as I hug the wall, my bright yellow trousers rustling as I move.
With a smile, I glance down the tiny gap of my jacket at my girl. “So far, so good.”
Three doors down, the alley opens into a tiny, private car park. I dash towards the building and open the back door.
The smell of food hits me, and my stomach gurgles.
Yum. Chinese. I wave at Wendy, who is standing at the front counter, taking a phone order.
Adamantly, I point to the lockbox that holds the keys for the scooters that they use for the takeaway deliveries.
Wendy nods and gives me a thumbs up. I grin at her and mouth, “thank you,” then grab a helmet from the side and stuff it onto my head.
“Ew.” I gag and wrinkle my nose at the smell. You haven’t lived if you’ve not stuffed your face into the padding of someone else’s sweaty helmet. My skin itches. I grab a set of keys and mince my way to the back door.
“Oi, Tuesday!” shouts a voice behind me. My heart jumps and for a second, I freeze. I turn to see Wendy as she hurries toward me with a bag of food. “I don’t want you going hungry. Nice to see you. It’s been way too long.”
“Thanks, Wendy,” I say, my voice muffled by the helmet. “I’ll get the bike back to you tomorrow.” She pats the top of my head and rushes back to the ringing phone.
Outside, I head to the yellow and red scooters. I jiggle the keys and squint at the number etched on the key ring. When I find the corresponding scooter, I open the storage compartment under the seat, grab the gloves nestled inside, and pop in my yummy food. I throw my leg over and insert the key.
While I am safe in the car park, I use my phone to book a hotel room nearby. I might as well hide out in style. With that all accomplished, and a last check on Daisy, I stuff my hands in the gloves and rock the scooter off its stand. I turn the key, twist the throttle, and zoom into the night.
I nip the scooter into a designated motorbike parking space and grab my soon-to-be midnight dinner from underneath the seat.
I slip inside the hotel and shimmy across the lobby like a proper weirdo, the helmet still firmly in place as I want to keep my face covered.
The professional vampire on reception doesn’t bat an eye and I check in without issue.
Key card in hand, I head straight for the lift.
Once safe inside my room, my entire body sags with relief.
I am proud that I made the three-mile journey to the hotel without freaking out.
Buzzing down the main road on a scooter at night is scary.
Wow, I’ve done something epic. For sure, along with the Mount Everest ladder, it’s another fist pump moment.
I evaded the bad guys, and both Daisy and I are safely tucked away.
The best escape ever and as a bonus, I have Chinese.
Whoop.
The hotel room is nice—full bathroom, a king-size bed and a seating area that leads onto a balcony. I tug the smelly helmet off and stuff it in the cherry wood wardrobe near the door, rubbing my ear on my shoulder. My head itches with the need to wash my hair and face.
Carefully, I unzip the jacket and gently pull Daisy out.
Her nose twitches. “Look at this nice room, zig-zag.” I place her on the floor and grin as she slowly stretches out one wing and then the other, then her back legs kick out with a thump as she excitedly bolts away to explore.
She disappears around the side of the bed.
I shed my waterproof layers and throw them onto a chair. I’ll use the thermal base layers as pyjamas—my outfit of choice.
I hunt down the welcome tea and coffee set, slide the tray from underneath and pop it in the bathroom with a handful of clean shavings for Daisy’s loo.
Then I quickly set up an area with her food and water.
I turn the television on low and slump on the bed with what feels like a hundred cushions behind me, then I munch on Wendy’s chicken chow main.
I love that Wendy gave me a fork. As I am eating, I bite the bullet and ring Jodie. I need to check if my coven is okay.
“Tuesday.” I scrub a hand down my face when Mum answers my sister’s phone.
Great.
“Hi, Mum,” I say through gritted teeth.
Mum is silent. That isn’t a good sign. I hunch and stuff more food into my mouth.
When she still says nothing after that first mouthful, I do my best to appease her.
I don’t enjoy silence. “Some mercenaries came to my flat. I have no idea why I was targeted. Please don’t send anyone; they have a heavy magic hitter.
I’m sure they’ll leave when they find out I am not there.
I’m urm… at a local hotel stuffing my face with Chinese.
” Silence. “Is urm… is everyone okay on your end?”
“Tuesday Ann Larson,” she growls. Uh-oh, my full name. I almost choke on a noodle. Oops, I’m in trouble. “Your lack of planning for your emergency is not my crisis.”
Okay, thanks for that Mum. My bad. I should have planned for a group of mercenaries to bash down my door with someone strong enough to rip away Jodie’s ward.
I’ll get right on that and do an entire A-to-Z emergency plan next time.
I groan. I work in retail for spell’s sake.
It’s not like I’m a practising witch or anyone special.
I thought I did quite well. I had a plan; it might have been Dad’s, but it worked.