Traces of Sulfur

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Traces of Sulfur Page 6

by Madeline Freeman


  I finished securing the medicine in the padded pouch within Derek’s pack before tapping my comm. “Down the stairs? Are you crazy? Can’t we just—I don’t know—go out a window or something?”

  “Eventually.” Liza’s voice was patient, but weary. I wondered whether it was because of the stress of our current situation or if her disagreement with Derek was the cause. I could only guess it was his lack of sleep talking.

  Derek strode to the door and pulled it open, leading the way into the hall. My head swiveled from side to side as we moved, more out of habit than actual worry. If anyone was on this floor, Liza would see them with her thermal camera.

  “The stairs are about ten yards ahead of you,” Liza reported. “They’re empty. Once you get there, head down to the second floor.”

  My skin tingled with anticipation as we snuck forward. Even in his disappointment, Derek moved silently, for which I was grateful. My nerves couldn’t handle it if he were to stomp his way to our escape.

  “There’s a large tree obscuring a window on the second floor,” Liza said as we stepped into the stairwell. “It should give you enough cover to drop onto the ground below. The road on that side of the building is empty. You’ll be able to sneak away pretty easily.”

  We quickly descended one flight of stairs, but I didn’t breathe easier until we reached the door labeled with the number two.

  “Second floor is clear,” Liza said as Derek approached the door. “You’re going to head down this main corridor until you get to the hall just past the elevator. Turn right. There’s a window at the end of that hall. That’s your exit.”

  Derek nodded and wordlessly flung open the door. I followed him over the threshold and into a hallway that was strikingly different from the one on the upper floor. Where the one above had industrial-looking gray carpet and empty, off-white walls, this one boasted a thicker burgundy carpet and textured wallpaper. This part of the building must have been designed to impress people, whereas the one above was simply for work.

  But there was no time to wonder about what kinds of meetings might take place behind these doors. Derek and I were too close to freedom to slow down now.

  When we reached the corridor that opened to our right, I picked up my pace. The time for caution was over; we needed to leave before someone spotted us.

  “We’re almost to the window,” I murmured into my microphone. “We should be outside in less than a minute.”

  “Good,” Liza said tightly.

  “I’ll say,” Derek muttered, reaching for the window sash.

  But after a few attempts to pry it open, he hadn’t succeeded. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Yeah,” Derek grumbled. “This window won’t budge.”

  Sighing, I nudged him out of the way. “That’ll happen when you don’t bother to unlock it.” I unlatched the window and tugged at it, but it still didn’t move. “What the…”

  “Is there a problem?” Liza asked.

  I leaned forward to inspect the window’s sash and casing. “Yeah. It looks like someone painted over the whole thing. It’s not moving.”

  Derek grunted with irritation, digging into the cargo pocket on his pants. “I’ve got this,” he said as he began running the blade of his pocket knife around the painted joint.

  For minutes, the sound of a knife against wood and Derek’s breaths filled the air. When Liza spoke again, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “How’s that window coming?” she asked.

  “Almost there,” Derek said.

  “Good,” Liza said. “Because someone finally spotted my drone. I have to get it out of here before they send something to nab it. Get out fast. You two are on your own now.”

  My stomach clenched. We were close to freedom, but there was still so much that could go wrong. Someone could sneak up before we got the window open. Or someone might see us once we dropped. There were still too many variables.

  Derek cupped my shoulder, startling me back to the present. “Eden, we’ve got this. Keep watch, and I’ll have this open in a few seconds.”

  My panic ebbed, but it didn’t disappear completely as I turned toward the open hall behind us. I balled my hand into a fist, prepared to swing at anyone who came into view.

  Finally, with an almighty grunt from Derek, the corridor was filled with the splintering of wood as the window slid on its track.

  “Okay, let’s get out of here,” Derek said, pocketing his knife. He hoisted himself up on the sill and poked his legs through to the other side. The main trunk of the tree was about three yards from the window, but the branches nearly scraped the side of the building. Derek shifted his weight from side to side, apparently judging the most effective way to fall.

  Fear clawed at my insides. “Can you hurry up?”

  He scoffed. “I don’t want to break a leg on the way down. Or the medicine vials.”

  I rolled my eyes as he turned back to the window. The chances of him breaking a bone from this height were slim, and as long as he didn’t land on his back, the medicine should be fine.

  “Are you two out of the building yet?” Liza asked.

  Derek grunted, but Liza’s question seemed to be the pressure he needed. In the next second, he dropped from the window.

  I pressed my comm as I rushed to the window. “Derek’s out.” It was hardly an elegant fall, but he was already rising from the crouch he’d landed in. Glancing back at me, Derek lifted one arm and gave the thumbs-up signal.

  My turn.

  I lifted one leg onto the sill, but before I could figure out how to maneuver my other up to join it, a solitary ding made the hairs on my arms stand at attention.

  The elevator. Unless whoever was inside planned to turn immediately toward the staircase, they would walk by this hallway in a matter of seconds.

  It wasn’t enough time.

  Yanking my leg back into the building, I pulled on the window sash with all my might until it slid back into nearly its original position.

  Whistling cut through the air, growing closer by the second.

  Until, finally, it stopped.

  “Hey, what are you doing up here?”

  Chapter Nine

  I plastered the biggest smile I could muster onto my face as I spun to face my doom. What I wouldn’t give for Derek’s tranq gun now. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not allowed up here?”

  The guy at the end of the hall tipped his head at me, studying me as if positive he must have heard me wrong. He was taller than me by several inches, but his height wasn’t overwhelming. He wore the same black guard uniform I’d noticed on Kouri yesterday, which tracked because this guy didn’t seem to be any older than me.

  He studied me carefully with his forest green eyes. After a few seconds, he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t his words that found their way into my ear.

  “Eden, what happened? Derek said you closed the window.”

  The guard stopped talking at the same time as Liza, his words lost in the sound of my aunt’s voice. “I’m sorry, what?” My cheeks heated at the question. This guy was going to think I was a moron—or, worse, realize what I was really doing here.

  He took a few deliberate steps toward me, but nothing about his posture was overly threatening. Although I could see the radio strapped to his waist, he didn’t reach for it. “I said, no, you’re not allowed up here. How’d you even get up here? The line is nowhere near the staircases.”

  “Bathroom.” The word came out a little louder than necessary, as Liza chose that exact moment to make contact again. I brought my finger to my right ear, trying to make it look like I was satisfying a scratch as I plucked the comm from my ear canal. If I was going to get through this, I couldn’t be battling Liza’s voice in my ear. “I was looking for a bathroom.”

  The guard’s mouth puckered. “There are bathrooms downstairs, you know.”

  Of course there were. I attempted to brighten my smile. “Oh, I know. But the lines were all so long, I though maybe I could find one u
p here that wasn’t as… occupied.”

  The guy’s suspicious look didn’t evaporate, but he still didn’t reach for a weapon of any kind. “Well, you’re not supposed to be up here. Let’s get you back downstairs.”

  Relief flooded me. Maybe it was still a trap. Perhaps he sensed he couldn’t take me on his own and he wanted to elicit backup before trying to subdue me. Or maybe—maybe—he would take me downstairs without incident and I could slip out the front door as soon as he turned his back.

  I decided to put my stock in the latter.

  “Um, okay.” I attempted to arrange my features into something akin to gratefulness as I took his lead and followed his side-swept arm back toward the elevator. My throat went dry, but I did my best not to let my discomfort at being followed by an angelic guard show. He could use my position to his advantage—knock me out with some tranquilizer of his own. But he kept a respectful distance behind me as we made our way toward the elevator.

  He punched the call button beside the reflective silver doors, and I glimpsed myself for the first time in hours.

  The overhead light brought out the blue in my usually slate-gray eyes. The low ponytail in my short brown hair was mercifully still intact after spending most of the night under a desk. Standing beside him, the guard’s height advantaged looked much more intimidating; he probably had six inches on me.

  I sized him up as surreptitiously as I could until the alert dinged and the doors spread open. In an enclosed space like the inside of the elevator, I was pretty sure I could take him if I had to.

  Swallowing as I stepped into the small metal box, I hoped I wasn’t descending into a trap.

  A low drone of voices struck my eardrums as soon as the elevator doors opened again. I could tell even before I stepped onto the main floor that the place was packed.

  Although no one was speaking much above a whisper, the sheer volume of people made it feel like I was stepping into a hornets’ nest.

  My guard swept his hand in front of him again, and I took my cue to make the first move. I logged every detail I could about my new surroundings. Pictures of different West Cameron buildings from years past lined the walls. A contingent of guards stood in the hallway to the left, but the civilians were all to the right, beyond the main entrance, through which people were being steadily admitted. Guards were stationed at each door and seemed to be checking verification credentials of those seeking to come in.

  A shiver of dread coursed down my spine. What if someone asked me for my verification credentials? I didn’t have any documentation on me. Why would I carry around paperwork that announced to the world I was a demon?

  I had thought the excitement on the faces of the angels lining the street to see the chancellor’s motorcade was over-the-top, but it was nothing compared to the expressions of zealous anticipation electrifying the people here today. The tension was like a current zipping through the air.

  I kept my eyes glued to the front door. It was still twenty yards away, and my heart thudded against my ribs harder with each step toward it. I was going to make it.

  “Here we are,” said the guard, startling me from my thoughts.

  He had stopped walking, and I turned to look at him. “I’m sorry?”

  He swept his hand toward a wooden door bearing a placard with a small circle balanced at the point of a larger triangle. “The bathroom. I assume you still need to use it.”

  Although I couldn’t detect a challenge in his tone, I still felt like I was being tested. I hadn’t noticed whether there was an operational bathroom on the floor above—and, truth be told, after so many hours sneaking around this building, I really had to go. Still, I would much rather stride right out the front doors and put as much distance between myself and this place as possible.

  But doing that could look suspicious, and that would only cause trouble.

  “Thank you,” I said, dipping my head and striding through the waiting door.

  The room beyond was mercifully empty, affording me a little time to collect myself. I took as much time as I dared doing my business and washing my hands afterward.

  Everything was fine. All I needed to do was leave and walk out the door and this whole thing would be behind me.

  Except when I opened the door, the guard was still standing in the hall, waiting.

  Oh, no.

  I forced a smile. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “Didn’t want to chance you wandering off again. Let’s get you to the line.”

  I pointed toward the mass of angels grouped at the end of the hall. “I think I can find my way from here.”

  “Just doing my job.” The guard gestured once again for me to walk in front of him. My mind spun as my stomach twisted with a swirl of emotions. Did he suspect I was lying? Did he think I was some angel looking for an edge over the competition, or did he realize the truth of what I was? If he knew the truth, where was he taking me?

  I attempted to shove away my rising panic. He would lead me to the end of the line and all this would be over. As soon as he wasn’t watching, I would sneak away. Easy.

  Except he guided me not toward the end of the line—which, as we passed by the open front doors, I could see still wrapped around the front of the building. Instead, he urged me toward a set of doors labeled “auditorium.”

  “Shouldn’t I be at the back of the line?” I asked, my voice higher than usual. “I mean, it isn’t fair for me to cut in front of all these people who’ve been waiting…”

  He waved away my concern.

  There was a break in the line near the auditorium. Four angelic officers stood, blocking the hopefuls from rushing straight through the closed doors. They cast my guard questioning looks as he passed, but—to my horror—they said nothing.

  “Hey! Stop!” shouted a sharp, female voice as we neared the auditorium doors. “I know you can hear me, Ross.”

  Relief swelled within me as the guard stopped and turned to face the speaker. But it was short-lived when I caught the angle of his smirk. “Can I help you, Shonda?”

  The girl who had spoken wore the same black guard uniform as the guy beside me. Her tawny brown and pale yellow dreads were tied up at the back of her neck. “What are you doing, Bridger? There’s a line.”

  The guard—Bridger—tipped his head. “I can see that, Shonda. Why do you care if one more person goes before you? I mean, it shouldn’t matter if you’re the Aether Blade’s Keeper, right?”

  Two of the blue-uniformed guards standing between Bridger and Shonda chuckled.

  Shonda narrowed her eyes. “You know what, Bridger? You’re right. It doesn’t matter. But I’ll remember this when I’m one of you.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Bridger shook his head as he turned back to the door. “You coming?” he asked as he pushed his way into the room.

  It wasn’t like I had a choice.

  A guard in her thirties stood just inside the auditorium. She shifted her weight when we entered, but when she caught sight of Bridger, she nodded and returned to her prior stance. A line of people stretched down the aisle in front of us, but only the man at the end glanced back when my guide deposited me into place behind him.

  “Well, good luck,” Bridger said, glancing toward the stage at the front of the room. “I’d better get into position. Clio’s already giving me death glares.” Without further explanation, he jogged past the queued individuals and stepped into an empty spot along the front of the stage where two other young-looking guards in black uniforms stood. Both of them—a girl with reddish-blonde hair, and a guy with broad shoulders who stood several inches taller than Bridger—turned to look at him, but neither spoke.

  I struck the most bored and unassuming pose I could muster, but inside my heart hammered like a drum. I needed to find an escape route. I groped for reasonable excuses, but each was flimsier than the last. Even if I took a chance and tried to run out the door I entered through, there were plenty of guards on the other s
ide between me and freedom.

  I desperately wanted to reach out to Liza and ask if she had any ideas, but replacing my comm in my ear and whispering to myself was certain to be noticed in here.

  The stage curtain was pulled shut, creating a maroon velvet barrier between me and whatever was happening beyond. A shiver overtook me. Was the point to build anticipation, or was there another reason they didn’t want us to know what was going on?

  Movement at the center of the curtain drew my eye. A black-haired woman in gray wool pants and a turquoise blouse stepped out from between the two pieces of material and pointed to the person at the head of the line. The man surged forward, stumbling on the stairs on his way to the stage. In other circumstances, his inelegant ascent might have elicited a chuckle from onlookers, but the room remained silent.

  Little more than a minute later, the black-haired woman returned and beckoned to the next person in line.

  I leaned toward the man in front of me. “Where do you think the last guy went?”

  He glanced back, his eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, uh. I don’t know. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen anyone come back down.”

  My stomach twisted. Was there a reason they weren’t sending people back out the way they came?

  The door behind me creaked open, and a half dozen hopefuls streamed inside to join the line. Shonda, the girl who had spoken with Bridger earlier, didn’t bother disguising her irritation when her gaze fell on me.

  Four more people took their turns behind the curtain without incident, but while the fifth was on stage, a shout of agony rose up, followed by several indistinct voices. Bridger and his two companions twisted toward the noise, but they didn’t jump up to intervene.

  This was the first time Bridger’s attention hadn’t been turned in my direction since he installed me in the line. This was my chance to slip away without him noticing me. I turned to check on the guard at the door. If she was more interested in the stage than the line, I could make a run for it.

  The black-haired woman appeared from between the curtains and waved her arm. “The medic, please.”

 

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