Secrets in the Dark

by Darcy Coates

  Ezra staggered back, but he’d reacted too late. The hollows poured over him. A piercing scream cut through the hallway as he disappeared under the scrabbling, chattering bodies. Clare flinched away. She didn’t want to see. But she had no way to block out the sound.

  The scream rose, louder and louder, seemingly endless. It cracked into a raw howl then abruptly fell silent. The noise was replaced by the endless, quiet chattering noise, huffing breaths, and the wet smack of raw flesh between teeth.

  The elevator doors slid open. A soft ding echoed through the hallway.

  A dozen heads turned to stare at Clare and Dorran. Unblinking eyes shone in the light.

  Clare clutched Dorran’s hand. Together, they stepped backwards into the elevator. Most of the hollows were occupied with their feast, but additional heads rose from the heap to stare at them. With a shaking hand, Clare selected a floor on the panel then carefully pushed the Close Doors switch.

  The nearest hollows began skittering forward. One of them carried a dripping mouthful of red pulp. The chattering was curious. Eager.

  Clare mashed the Close Doors button.

  The hollows sped up as they neared. The leader rose out of its crouch, its elongated arms stretched towards them, eighteen fingers reaching for Clare’s face.

  The doors slid closed. Bodies thudded onto the barrier. Fingers scratched at the metal, scrabbling along the seams as they looked for a weakness. Then the elevator began to drop, pulling them away from the swarm and their feast.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Clare slumped, resting her forehead on the metal doors, pulling air into oxygen-starved lungs.

  Dorran chuckled as he rubbed her back. “You did it.”

  “I did… something.” Clare lifted her head. Dazed, she blinked at the panel of buttons. In her urgency to escape the hollows, she hadn’t paid any attention to which button she’d pressed. She now saw she’d chosen Floor 8. Ultimately, she suspected it didn’t matter much. There would be hollows in every level of the tower by that point.

  Only four floors didn’t have access from the elevator: the maintenance room, the labs, and two other restricted levels. The lights above the door flashed as they counted down to 8. The elevator drew to a halt. Its doors slid open with a soft ping.

  Mercifully, the hallway was sparsely occupied. Shapes moved through the stairwell at the opposite wall. Two stopped to stare at the elevator as the doors opened. Clare hit the button to close the doors again. The hollows had only just started to move towards them before the metal barrier slid shut.

  “We should be safe in here, at least.” Clare stepped back to lean against the railing on the rear wall. “They won’t be able to get in unless they figure out how to press the buttons.”

  Dorran sighed and sank to the floor. He’d kept pace with her, but it was clear it had taxed him. He held out his hand, and Clare sat at his side.

  “Rest with me a moment, then,” he said. “We have some time before we need to plan our next step.”

  She knew what must be going through his head. They might be safe in the elevator, but it was a limited reprieve. With no water, their life span could be counted in hours, not days.

  If they were in any other environment, they might have been able to outlast the hollows. The monsters would lose interest eventually and wander off for better pickings. But Helexis’s power was still running, and the recording continued to play. As long as it broadcast its broken message, the hollows would be compelled to mill through the building. Forever.

  Clare leaned her head against Dorran’s shoulder. Her eyes burned. She tried to stay present and focussed on their situation, but her mind kept sliding back towards Ezra. The shock on his face as he turned towards the hollows. The screams.

  Dorran brushed loose hair behind her ear then ran his thumb over her cheek and down to her jaw. Clare closed her eyes and let herself sink into the touch.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have turned the power off. It’s just made everything worse.”

  “We were in a precarious situation. I don’t know if I would have done any differently.”

  She chuckled. “You’re too forgiving. Sometimes you just need to tell me I was an idiot.”

  He laughed as well then pulled her a little closer. They were both dirty, the once-white coats thoroughly ruined. Clare didn’t care. It was good just to be close to Dorran.

  “My darling.” He took her hand and stroked it thoughtfully. “I think we perhaps have less room for remorse in this new world. Our choices will have vastly worse consequences. Simple mistakes can result in life-altering outcomes. Sometimes even death. But as the consequences grow worse, our fear must be proportionally less. Do you understand?”

  She frowned. “Maybe. I think?”

  “Regret had a purpose in the world. It helped us to learn from our actions, to do better next time. But now, the room for error is so small that regret offers no advantage. Do you have room to regret five things a day? Ten? If you try to carry that weight, it will smother you. To survive, we must release ourselves from remorse.”

  “Dorran…”

  “I am telling you this because you will need to be prepared. I have a plan.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him.

  “It will mean you leave alone.”

  A spear of ice-cold panic pierced through her chest. She grabbed the hand that was holding hers. “No. We either leave together or not at all.”

  “Shh.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t be upset. I have thought this through, and it is the only option I can see. My darling, I am spent. I have no strength left to run. But I can create a distraction for you, to buy you time to get out of the city.”

  Distraction. He meant sacrifice. Being eaten. Using his own blood as a lure as Clare slipped away.

  Fear and anger swelled through her. Clare twisted around. She grabbed Dorran’s head with one hand on either cheek, forcing him to look at her, and snapped, more loudly than she’d intended, “No. That is not happening. We leave together.”

  His eyebrows rose, and Clare was horrified to see amusement flit across his face. His hand slid around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. She didn’t try to fight it.

  “I love you so dearly.” His lips, bitter with blood, grazed hers before he settled back against the wall. “You are brave and smart and stronger than you think. I know you can survive.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I’m not leaving without you.” Clare’s voice cracked.

  Dorran left his hand on the back of her neck, the thumb tracing small, gentle circles. “My darling Clare. You have no idea how badly I wish I could give you everything you want. But I am not able to go further.”

  Sitting so close to him, pressed against his body, it was easy to see the toll the last day had taken on him. His skin was an awful ashen colour. New creases lingered across his brows and mouth. The darkness around his eyes was deepening. She pressed one hand to his chest and, through his shirt, felt how cold he was. Tears began to fall. “No, no, no. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Shh. Listen carefully. You can do this. Take the elevator to the ground floor. I will go out ahead of you. Draw their attention. I will see if I can lead them away from the windows. Then you will need to escape as quickly and as quietly as you can.”

  “Dorran, stop.”

  “Try to get to the river. I think that will be the fastest way out of the city. Take one of the boats, get to a rural road, then find a vehicle.”

  “Stop.”

  “You know the country well enough to get back to Winterbourne, don’t you? And you know how to keep the garden running. Seal the doors. Defend yourself. It will be hard, my dear, but I know you can do it. I know you can survive.”

  Tears ran freely. Clare hit her fist against his chest, a weak punch that replaced her lost words. She bowed her head to rest it against his shoulder as she cried. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Shh. Shh, my darling.” Hands ran over
her back. “I know this is hard. If you need time, I understand. We can sit together a while more.”

  Clare felt as though she were arguing against a wall. Every other time she’d fought with Dorran, he’d allowed her concessions. This time, though, he wasn’t even giving her a chance to object. She clung to him, terrified and sick. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not living in a world without you. That’s what you said to me, remember?”

  She felt him smile into her hair. “We were never equal in that quarter. I could not take this world without you. But I think you will be all right without me. We both knew that I was just temporary.”

  “How—” She leaned back, words choking in her throat. “How dare you.”

  Dorran grinned at her. Clare wanted to be furious with him. It wasn’t easy when there was so much affection and adoration shining in his eyes.

  “You have been the best part of my life.” His thumb came up to brush tears from her cheeks. “I wish I had told you that more. I wish I had done a lot of things better. I was so occupied with trying to be the kind of man you wanted—”

  Crushing sadness was dousing the anger. “That’s why you agreed to help me get to Beth’s bunker, isn’t it? Because… you thought you weren’t good enough? Because you were trying to buy my love?”

  The sadness in his eyes was the only answer she needed. “I am not the kind of man you would have chosen in a better world. I know that.”

  “Dorran, you idiot.” She pressed her lips against his. It was a messy, frenzied, and helpless kiss. She tried to push her emotions into it, trying to show him physically how she felt when her words failed. He responded, leaning into it, arms circling around her to hold her tightly. When she finally released his mouth, she leaned her forehead against his. “You’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

  He looked aside. He never seemed able to make eye contact when he was complimented. Clare’s heart ached for him.

  “If I’d met you before the stillness, I would have thought I was luckier than I deserved.” She traced her fingertips over the hard lines of his brows, down his strong nose, and across his lips. “If I’d met you before the stillness, I would have loved you just as deeply as I love you now. I would have loved your good parts and your flaws. I would have married you.”

  His eyes flicked back to hers. They held a deep longing. One of his hands left her back and wormed between them, to feel inside his pockets. When it came out, it held a ring.

  “What…” Clare stared at it, shocked into silence.

  “I… I found it when we passed that broken jewellery store. Not very romantic, I know. But I didn’t want to give you any of the rings my family owned. I wanted something that wasn’t tainted by them.” He swallowed and blinked rapidly.

  “Dorran…”

  “I know it’s foolishness. There are no priests to marry us. No one to care whether we were or not. But I just thought, perhaps…”

  She wrapped her hands around his and held it against her chest as fresh tears spilt over. “It’s not stupid. Give me the damn ring.”

  He pulled her tightly against himself. They were both laughing, giddy, and she thought he might be crying, as well, though it was hard to tell. He pulled her around so that she could sit in his lap properly, resting against his chest with his chin grazing the top of her head. He placed the ring into her hand. Clare threaded it onto her shaking finger. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Hm.” He sounded happy. “It will be something to keep. To remember me.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t need to. We’ll get out of here. We’ll figure it out. And when we get back to Winterbourne, we can be a proper team. Our own little family.”

  Dorran didn’t respond. Uneasiness ran through Clare’s stomach. She leaned back to see his expression. “I’m not leaving without you.”

  He blinked down at her, calm, loving, and sad all at once. “You will need a distraction to escape the tower. There is no other choice. At least, by doing this, I can ensure you get out of the city unharmed.”

  “No.”

  “It’s all right, Clare. I am content with this choice. Please… please don’t make saying goodbye any harder than it already is. I don’t think I can take it.”

  She shut her eyes and clung to him. “I’ll make it as hard as I need to. You can’t force me to leave.”

  For a moment, the elevator was silent. Clare could hear Dorran’s heart, beating too fast, under her ear. The crackling storm outside. The distant chattering of hundreds of hollows racing through the building.

  Dorran took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It doesn’t have to be right now. You need time to accept it. I understand.” He rested his head on top of hers. “We still have a little time.”

  She scowled into his shirt. Dorran seemed content to hold her and stroke her hair. He hummed under his breath, a slow, soothing tune. Clare sat still and let him enjoy what he seemed to believe was a victory. Her mind worked furiously. There had to be a way out. Something she’d overlooked. Some way past the hollows. Then all they needed to do was find a way to carry Dorran until they found a safe space with food and water for him to rest. There had to be something.

  She ran her thumb over the ring then turned her hand into a fist. Dorran thought she just needed time to adjust to the idea. He also thought she was stubborn; he hadn’t seen anything yet.

  Hollows screamed outside the elevator. Fingers returned to the door, scratching and prying. They stayed for several painful moments before their owners gave up and paced away. Clare wondered if there was anything left of Ezra. She had seen the creatures eat bones; by that point, he probably only existed as a stain on the carpet.

  The building creaked around them. She couldn’t see the lightning, but she could feel the thunder. Her mind circled around their options for what felt like the thousandth time, hunting desperately. Their masks were lost in the office area. They could not reach the maintenance room to put out the power or Ezra’s laptop to turn off the recording. And the hollows would not leave for as long as it played. Maybe not even then.

  Is Dorran right? Does one of us need to die to have any hope of escape? She squeezed her eyes closed. Then we will both die here together.

  Dorran lifted his head. For a second, Clare believed he must have heard her thoughts, and prepared herself for another fight. Then he said, “What was that?”

  “What did you hear?” She blinked against the harsh elevator lights. Time had slipped away from her, and her legs were stiff from sitting.

  “An engine. I think.”

  Clare frowned. Now that she was listening, she thought she could hear it too. Underneath the thunder and chattering hollows were sounds like an engine being revved. But that couldn’t be real; the city streets were impassable.

  Then a car horn blared through the chilled air. That was unmistakable. Clare shot up, her pulse hammering, as she stared at Dorran. “Someone else came.”

  His wide eyes stared back. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

  “They must have heard the radio signal…”

  The car horn sounded again, this time loud and long. The chattering in the building grew frantic. The driver was courting danger by advertising their presence so loudly.

  The driver outside could probably see the unlocked window on the ground floor, she realised. With hollows running in and out of the building, the newcomer was looking for some kind of response from the tower’s occupants in case the building wasn’t deserted.

  This is how we get out.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Clare faced the shiny metal doors, her heart hammering. Eight floors below them was rescue. Who, what, or how, she didn’t know, but they had no choice but to accept.

  She pulled on Dorran’s arm, getting him to his feet. He felt cold. As he stood, a drop of blood ran from his nose. He wiped the back of his hand across it, smearing it away. Clare clutched his arm. “We have to get to them. I know you’re tired, but you have to fight a little longer.”

 
“I—”

  “So help me, Dorran, you’re getting into that car, or else I’ll throw myself into a horde of hollows.”

  He shook his head, a thin smile tugging at his lips. “Have I ever won an argument against you?”

  “No, and you’re not about to start now.”

  The car horn blared again, with a series of quick, sharp honks. The engine revved. Hollows had to be converging on the noise already. The stranger wouldn’t stay for long. There was no time for subtlety or strategy. Clare hit the button for the foyer, and the elevator started moving.

  The ground floor will be full of them, and we have no masks or armour. Clare chewed her lip. Dorran found her hand and pressed it. Together, they faced the doors, and Clare took a stuttering breath. “I think we’ll just have to run for it.”

  Dorran nodded. The hollows would know they were coming; the pinging elevator doors would make sure of that. But if she and Dorran kept their heads down and moved fast enough, they might still have some small element of surprise.

  The car horn sounded again, and the noise held for several seconds. It struck Clare as a final attempt to make contact. A last warning. They were already out of time.

  The elevator whirred as it came to a halt. Clare leaned forward, exquisitely aware that the next few seconds would save or ruin them. Dorran tensed at her side. She kept a tight hold on his hand, silently telling him to stay with her.

  Slowly, agonisingly, the doors trundled open. Clare’s first glimpse of the foyer sent tremors through her chest. It was worse than she’d expected. Two dozen sets of eyes turned in her direction. One mouth opened in a piercing hiss.

  There was no time to hesitate. The doors were wide enough, and Clare leapt forward. Dorran matched her pace. She stayed close at his side and put her head down and her arm up to shield her face.

  Teeth locked onto her forearm. She didn’t try to recoil, but barrelled on, using momentum to push through. Arms grabbed at her legs. She stumbled. Dorran yanked her back up. She couldn’t see the windows, but she could remember which direction they had been in. Bodies were blocking the path. Too many. Far, far too many.