Chapter 15 #2
For the first time in what felt like forever, there was nothing between us except the warmth of her body and the quiet rhythm of our breathing. We kissed like teenagers who had discovered something wonderful and had no idea what to do with it.
Eventually, we pulled apart, both breathing harder than we should have been.
Then she laughed. I laughed with her.
For a brief moment, everything felt easy. And that scared me. Because reality would catch up with us. She might wake up tomorrow and regret every second of this.
I looked away, then something caught my eye.
The punching bag.
More specifically, the small symbol painted on its side: a letter V, sandwiched between two horizontal lines, with the bottom line slightly longer than the one above it. I stared at it for a moment, then laughed.
“There is no treasure here.”
June blinked. “What?”
I pushed myself away from her. “You know that old Chinese saying? There are no three hundred taels of silver buried here.”
She shook her head. “No idea.”
“It’s about someone who hides his treasure so badly that he leaves a sign saying there is no treasure there.”
She stared at me. “And?”
I looked back at the symbol. “Oh my God.” I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the floor.
“Kai!”
I swung her around once before setting her down. “That symbol.” I pointed toward the punching bag. “I made it when I was a kid.”
She frowned. “For what?”
“To mark places where I’d hidden things.”
“Hidden things?”
“My treasures, and I only ever told that to Dannie.”
“Wait.”
I was already moving. I reached the punching bag and ran my fingers over the painted symbol. Then I pushed it. Nothing. I punched the bag. Still nothing.
I stepped back and studied the room—the bag, the floor, the walls. Then my eyes travelled upward.
The ceiling.
My heart jumped.
“Up.”
June looked at me. “Up?”
“Up.”
I grabbed the punching bag and pulled it toward me. Something shifted above us.
“Did you feel that?”
June’s eyes widened. “You felt it too?”
I pulled again, and my injured back protested immediately.
“Fuck.”
June grabbed my arm. “Be careful.”
“I am being careful.”
“You’re hanging off a punching bag with a wound that has forty-seven stitches.”
“Technically, you stitched forty-seven stitches.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
I ignored her and pulled again. Something clicked overhead. Then a section of the ceiling moved. A panel slid aside, and a ladder dropped with a heavy metallic clatter.
For a second, neither of us breathed. Then June stared upward.
“We found it.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
The space above the ceiling wasn’t large, but it was packed with boxes, cases, weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, and emergency equipment. Everything Dannie might have needed if the world outside suddenly turned against him.
Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them. June buried her face against my chest.
“We’re getting out,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” I kissed the top of her head. “We’re getting out.”
We stayed like that for another moment before reality returned. Weapons wouldn’t help if we chose the wrong ones. We couldn’t carry everything. We needed to be fast, quiet, and efficient.
We started sorting. Anything too heavy stayed behind. We chose weapons and ammunition, medical supplies, torches, communication equipment, and anything else that might help us survive the journey out.
The hours disappeared. We didn’t realise how long we’d been at it until our stomachs started complaining.
By then, we were both hungry.
We had dinner in the kitchen. June made ramen with beef strips and canned vegetables from the emergency pantry. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but after millet porridge and three days of barely eating, it tasted better than anything I’d had in months.
“Not bad,” I said.
June looked at me suspiciously. “That sounded like a compliment.”
“It was.”
Neither of us talked much after that. We both knew what tomorrow meant.
The keypad was waiting for us.
Six digits. Three chances. And whatever was waiting on the other side of that door.
June had suggested waiting another few days. Let me recover. Get stronger. Prepare more.
Part of me knew she was right. But another part of me knew we couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually, someone would find us. And every extra day gave them another opportunity to prepare.
I looked across the table at June. She was barely eating.
Tomorrow, we’d find out whether Dannie’s security system would let us leave—or whether we’d have to find another way. Either way, we were leaving this place.
Together.
I knew what I wanted. I only wished June was on the same page.
I lay on Dannie’s bed, staring at the ceiling. It felt strange sleeping in his bed, knowing June was on the sofa outside. She should have been the one in the proper bed, but I hadn’t argued when she insisted.
I’d learned a long time ago that arguing with June once she’d made up her mind was a waste of oxygen.
A soft knock sounded against the bedroom door.
“Are you still awake?”
“Come in.”
The door opened slowly. June stood there in an oversized T-shirt and loose sleep pants, her hair falling messily around her shoulders. She looked tired. Beautiful. Human.
She slipped inside and closed the door. I shifted toward the edge of the bed, making room, and she climbed in without saying anything. For a while, we simply lay there facing each other.
“Do you want to have sex?”
The question came so quietly that for a second I wondered if I’d imagined it. Her lips trembled.
“Come here.”
I reached for her instead. She moved closer, and I kissed her forehead before wrapping my arms around her. She rested her head against my chest.
Neither of us spoke.
Because I knew she didn’t want sex. Not really. She wanted comfort. To feel safe. Someone to hold her after everything she’d survived.
And selfishly, I wanted to be that person.
So I held her. Nothing more. Just a long, overdue hug neither of us seemed ready to let go of.
I woke to the sound of a rooster. For several seconds, I had no idea where I was. Then the lights slowly brightened, mimicking sunrise. Dannie. Of course. Even without windows, he’d wanted this place to feel like a real home.
I glanced toward the other side of the bed.
Empty.
June was already awake.
I showered, dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans from Dannie’s wardrobe, and walked into the kitchen.
“Breakfast?” That was June’s greeting.
I stopped.
We were wearing almost identical outfits: T-shirt, jeans. The only difference was that June had a handgun tucked into her waistband and a knife secured at her side.
I grabbed a cereal bar from the large bowl in front of her. “I’m ready.”
June looked at me. “So am I.”
We walked toward the keypad together.
The six-digit panel looked exactly the same as yesterday. Small. Ordinary. Completely capable of deciding whether we lived or died.
June stood in front of it. “Any suggestions?”
“Nope.” I leaned against the wall. “You get the first guess.”
She thought for a moment. “I’m going to try the number I used to activate the lockdown.”
She entered the six digits.
The keypad beeped. Three short, sharp sounds. Red lights flashed.
Nothing.
June exhaled. “One down.”
I nodded. “Try your birthday.”
She looked at me. “Why?”
“Because he loves you.”
The words hurt more than I expected. I’d always known it was true, but saying it aloud made it feel different.
“What about his birthday?”
“Yours.”
“You sound very confident.”
“I am.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why?”
“What if you’re wrong?” Her confidence disappeared. “I can’t do this.”
I understood. This wasn’t just a keypad anymore. It was Dannie—his secrets, his choices, the life he’d built.
I reached past her and entered her birthday.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Three red lights.
“See?”
I nodded. “One chance left.”
“Oh, yes.” Her sarcasm returned.
I glanced toward the notebook on the nearby table. “Did you find anything in Dannie’s notes?”
“Nope.”
I almost smiled. “Then we’re out of options.”
“Not quite.” She looked at me. “Your birthday.”
I stared at her. “Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s probably not going to be it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“June.”
She giggled. “It’s only fair.”
Before I could stop her, she reached for the keypad.
“Wait.”
Too late.
One digit. Then another. I watched her enter each number, painfully slowly. Six digits. One after another.
The final number disappeared beneath her fingertip.
We waited.
Nothing.
For one second, I wondered if the system had rejected the input without warning.
Then a deep vibration travelled through the floor. June’s eyes widened. The walls trembled, and something heavy shifted somewhere beneath us.
I pushed away from the wall. “What the—”
Another tremor, stronger this time. The lights flickered, and June grabbed my arm.
“What’s happening?”
I stared at the keypad, then the door, then back at her.
“Shit.”
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