Outside the glass door, the tunnel went out until it disappeared into the dark abyss. Stones in varying shades of gray butted up to the enclosure. I examined the lock. There was no hope of using bobby pins to open it, or a key for that matter. It was smashed almost beyond recognition, the keyhole nonexistent. I had to work with the electronics.
“No one was able to keep their phone were they?” I said, glancing back at the group while I located the keypad. If I had a phone, I could use it to help me jimmy the lock.
“Those are the first things they took,” Charlotte said and began sobbing again. I wanted to shake the girl, but instead I took a deep breath.
“Besides our guns,” the tall, thin bailiff said, sending a quick look to the other bailiff. They all shook their heads no. The tall bailiff’s nametag read, J. Babcock and the other N. Freeman.
“I’m pretty sure they messed with the codes,” Judge Hilton repeated. “I’m sure they have control of them. Why else wouldn’t our code work?”
He had a point, but I tried to pull the keypad out of the wall anyway. It appeared to not have a cover. I couldn’t get to the wires. I’d never seen anything like it. “Could someone work on getting that keypad by the other door out of the wall?” I asked. “If I can get to wires, I can manipulate them.”
The extremely tan and bulky male clerk headed over to it. “Sure. I’ll give it a go. I’m Lam.” He had a smile plastered on his face and almost skipped to the door. Judge Mitchell joined the stocky young man. He moved swiftly despite his size. I realized that giving people jobs helped their mood.
I worked on getting the device out of the wall for a bit when Emily came over to help.
“I have these,” she said, holding up a set of three keys. “I might be able to dig with them.”
“That would be awesome.” She grinned a toothy grin, her glasses rising up her face slightly with the curve of her mouth. Emily was most certainly a born helper. I liked her a lot. I stepped back to let her dig with her keys at the mortar around the pad.
I worked on putting in codes, and the pad gave a terrible sound every time I missed the right one, which didn’t help the pounding in my head.
“You guys, come dig around these stones.” I showed N. Freeman, who left Charlotte soothe herself, and Lam some places that most likely hid door hinges. I set others on digging around the pad. I tapped my foot on the door, too, hoping to make enough noise that someone other than the guards might hear or perhaps the guards would become so annoyed, they’d open the door. We’d have a fighting chance then. A girl could hope.
“I got one loose!” Freeman yelled, bringing me back to the task at hand.
I turned, more determined than ever to get them all out. “Pull it off the wall!” I yelled and made my way to them.
Judge Hilton helped me yank on the stone, and my heart sank when I saw what was behind it. Steel. A steel wall. I shuddered. The stones were decoration to calm the inhabitants. Steel would make anyone feel they were stuck in a vault and not a shelter. All eyes were on me now, and I saw the faces fall as mine did. “It’s okay,” I said, bolstering every ounce of hope I could. “You can all stop scratching there, though.” There was no hope of escaping out a steel door or wall. I wouldn’t say it, though. It seemed like too big a nail in the coffin. “I need you to work on getting rid of some stones right here, where the ceiling meets the wall.” Certainly the ceiling was made of boards, not cement or steel.
I went to work on the keypad again. I couldn’t help but notice how cold and stiff my hands felt. I scoured my brain for anything related to this type of keypad, but I couldn’t think straight. The training manual would have to be updated after this. But who would tell Division it needed to be done if there was no one left to tell them? And how would I get the information to them even if I did live? I wasn’t supposed to be here.
Judge Mitchell and Emily finally got rid of all the rocks and mortar around the box.
Charlotte stood alone, reciting the Lord’s Prayer over and over again. I stopped entering codes, and we tugged and pulled on the box until it finally moved out an inch. Then I yanked on the box, using all my fury and hope and fear all balled up into one and as I did, it popped out. A steel shaft came out with it. The wires were encased in steel. Babcock had lifted Emily onto his shoulders so she could scrape at the mortar above us. Scraping and scraping like it was scraping my skin off. Freeman had resorted to tapping on the steel door with his keys.
I saw the truth then. Because the wires were all encased in steel tubing, I would not be able to cut them. At about the same time, the guys working on the ceiling stones called out. “Also steel.”
I turned my back on the steel door and as my knees buckled, I slid down it, a prayer taking over my heart. I didn’t want to give in to despair, but there was nothing else I could do. It would take a miracle to save us.
No one knew I was here. Jeremy wasn’t looking for me. The CSIS didn’t know. No one would find us. Phones weren’t working. There was no way out. We were trapped and there was a bomb about to go off.
A grim thought entered my head—with all the steel around us, we probably wouldn’t die in the blast. No, we’d just be trapped in here until we starved to death.
I couldn’t help but look at the tunnel entrance. If I were a terrorist, that’s where I would have put the bomb if I had been planning to lock people up in this room.
Where could Jeremy be? A flash of resentment went through me. If he had been with me when he was supposed to be, this wouldn’t have happened. My head pounded and nausea filled me. A sick horrible feeling captivated my chest thinking that he was with Celeste somewhere, laughing and chatting while I was trapped in an underground room. Nothing could be worse than this. We heard a sound, and everyone’s eyes flicked to the glass door.
Emily said, “What was that?”
“They’re coming now to shoot us all,” Charlotte cried.
"No," I assured her. And just as I said those words, out of the dark recesses of the tunnel, a raging roar filled our ears and a wall of water slammed into the glass door.
Chapter 10
Water crashed into the glass, but the glass held, not even a crack showing the impact. The water receded slightly, but left a knee-deep river of water right outside the room, sloshing against the glass. Before the horror, shock, and surprise of it could subside, our attention was drawn to trickling sound. The water was pushing its way through the cracks around the door, and puddles began to grow around it.
I ripped my attention away from the drips of water, which were becoming steady streams in some places, to the water outside and how it was steadily rising. The storm had turned from wind and rain to a full-on flash flood, and now the sewers were filling with water. The tunnel would soon be impossible to navigate. Our options for escape, limited as they were, were narrowing even further.
An electronic whir sounded and I whipped around, my head swimming with the motion. My vision cleared just in time to see the steel door slide open and a body being thrust inside.
Jeremy sailed in, the door slamming shut behind him. If there had been a glimmer of hope that someone would find us and save us, it was now gone. We were doomed. No one would come looking for us. No one would find us. No one knew we were there except for the terrorists who were going to blow us up or possibly drown us. Anger welled up inside of me. This was all Jeremy’s fault. If he hadn't gone after that girl… "
Our mouths opened at the same time and instead of running to each other in relief, we both let loose with the question, “Why did you leave me?”
“What?” I was ticked. “I didn’t leave you! You left me for that skank!”
“What are you talking about?” His hands flew to his head, frustration oozing off him, mirroring my own. “When I got back to the room, you were gone.”
All the hurt I’d felt in that moment but hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on came rushing over me like a wave. “You left—I needed you, and you went straight to her without a word to
me! You disappeared.”
“I just needed to get her out of there—I thought you would wait for me. You left me. You just couldn’t wait, like always. You have no patience,” he protested.
“I was just supposed to stand there like a chump while you took care of your girlfriend?”
Jeremy stared at me, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t bother, Jeremy. You’ve made it perfectly clear you still have feelings for her.”
“Celeste?”
Was he daft? “Yes! Celeste.” Hot rage blew through me, and I knew my face must have been as red as a beet. “Ever since you saw her, you can’t think straight. It’s so obvious. Do you think I’m some kind of idiot?”
Jeremy’s cheeks flushed a mottled red. “I didn’t before, but now I do.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He hadn’t even denied it. “I can’t trust you anymore.”
His jaw dropped. "I—I don't even know what to say to that."
Somewhere deep in my chest, I could feel my heart breaking. I never thought I’d ever feel unsure of Jeremy. He was my constant, my comfort, my little piece of heaven.
“Hey!” Judge Hilton yelled out. “I don't care what’s going on between the two of you or who made the other feel more unsure about your relationship, but there’s a bigger issue here. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re in a life-and-death situation.”
I looked at my shoes. I desperately wanted to let go of the deep anger and hurt that I felt, I wanted Jeremy to tell me I was wrong, to make everything all right again. But I knew none of it would matter if we didn’t get ourselves out of there.
He looked like he was trying to think of something to say, but there was nothing he could say anymore. I put a hand to my head—it still hurt so badly. “Let’s just—figure this out,” I said.
After a quick rehash of everything that had been done to try to get out of the room, including a composition of the room, Jeremy and I started to look around the room with new eyes to hopefully discover something new. We were each looking into the metal boxes, riffling through everything to find something. Anything.
“I have it!” Jeremy called out. “If we can break this box lid off, we can wedge it between the glass and the stone wall and use it as a lever to force it open while the water is still shallow.”
It took me a minute to catch the vision. “And,” I added, “if two or three of us push on the door at the same time, we’ll be able to get it open even faster.”
Judge Mitchell stood up. “That’s the best idea out there.”
“Once I’m out in the sewers, I’ll find my way out and come back to get you out.”
The plan was dangerous, but it was the only thing we had. If things were different, I might have tried to talk Jeremy out of it. We maybe could have figured out a better way, together, one that didn’t involve him risking so much. But somehow it felt like we’d never be that united again; together wasn’t a word that applied to us anymore.
As we examined the hinges on the lids, it became obvious that they could be easily broken if opened too quickly and too far. Judge Mitchell and he yanked at the same time. The hinges bent and after a few more tugs, the lid was free. Judge Hilton and Lam were already waiting at the glass door to help. We shoved the metal corner of the lid into one of the larger crevices in the middle of the door and Jeremy got ready to push on it. Hilton, Lam, and I took our position by the door, ready to put our whole weight into it.
Jeremy called out, “One, two, three. Push.”
At first, nothing happened, and we pushed harder. Jeremy grunted with the effort of it. It started to move, slowly, but surely. Water rushed through the larger crack we were creating. Grunts and groans filled the air as the door inched open a little bit further and a little further until we had a gap one foot wide.
“You,” Jeremy yelled out to Freeman and Babcock. “We've almost got the door open wide enough for me to slip through.” He spoke through labored breaths. “I need you and you to put all your weight on this lever to keep it open. Once it’s open enough, I’ll just slide right through under this lid.” They both nodded and looked scared and unsure of themselves. Next to Jeremy, they both looked like weaklings.
“Now,” Jeremy said, “Yell out that you can do this.” As the door opened centimeter by centimeter, the two of them squeaked out that they could do it.
“Well," Jeremy said. “That's not going to do it. I want to hear it.”
The door was only an inch away from being wide enough for Jeremy's body to fit through.
Both of them said it again, but there was no conviction in their voices. The door reached an opening large enough for Jeremy to fit through, and we had no time to build the boys’ confidence. My feet were starting to slip and my body shook from the effort. The water was already another foot deeper. This was our only chance. We would never get it open again.
“Now!” Jeremy called. The two of them threw all their weight into pushing on the lever. We all grunted, trying to hold the door open the perfect amount. Jeremy shoved his body through the wall of water, his legs pushing against it. Just as we thought Jeremy had made it through, our feet slipped, the two pulling the lever lost their grip and the wall of water won.
We heard the sickening cry of Jeremy as his arm got caught in the door as it slammed shut. Abandoning the lever, all five of us pushed on the door. More came over to help. Grunts and groans dominated the air. The door slid open just enough for Jeremy to get his arm out before the door slammed shut once more.
His arm dangled in an unnatural manner. I could see the pain etched in the contours of his face. He lifted the broken arm with his good hand and pulled it in toward his chest, cradling it there. How was he ever going to get out of here with a broken arm? His eyes met mine for a second, everything we’d said to each other reverberating through the air. This was wrong—we shouldn’t leave things this way.
“Jeremy—” I started, but he looked confused, as if he couldn’t hear me.
“I made it,” he yelled, his voice sounding muffled and distant through the thick glass. He was yelling, and he was barely audible. My apology died in my throat. It wasn’t something I wanted to be yelling in front of all these people. “I’m going to get help!” he yelled. “Don’t do anything foolish—I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With that, he turned and started sloshing through the murky water.
I watched his form slowly disappear, tears streaming down my face.
“How is he going to get us out?” Charlotte cried, her hysteria growing with each word. “There are guards outside the steel door, and he can’t open the glass just like we can’t. They could set off the bomb before he even gets back to the courthouse.”
I snapped my fingers in Emily’s direction, hoping she would be able to help calm Charlotte.
My heart ached along with my head. This wasn’t happening. I watched as Jeremy disappeared into the darkness, his legs pushing hard against the advancing water. He would get there. He would find the ladder to get to the manhole and be safe. I had to focus and get these guys out of here. Out of this death chamber.
How was Jeremy going to get out of the sewers with a broken arm? How would he be able to push hard enough? Manhole covers were heavy. A shiver rushed through me. Only then did I notice the chattering, the huddling of the others in the room. The water was making it cold and after that adrenaline rush of keeping the door open for Jeremy ended, their bodies lost a lot of their heat.
I started banging on the steel door. What else could I do? The water continued to pound against the glass door, almost filling the space behind it, as water poured through all the tiny crevices around it. If we didn’t die from drowning, we would from freezing. Water sloshed around my knees and everyone was shivering as they pounded, a blue tinge rising on everyone’s lips and a pale pallor on everyone’s faces. I kept praying that someone would hear Jeremy’s cries for help above the storm that was apparently still raging outside. He had to be
safe.
With a loud thud, something crashed into the glass door. Through the debris, I could see that it was Jeremy. I ran to the glass. Jeremy struggled to stay afloat, to keep his head in the small space at the top of the tunnel where there was still air.
“I couldn’t move the grate,” Jeremy yelled. His breath was labored, and each word seemed to cost him. His body was pressed hard against the glass by the rising water. “It’s too heavy. With only one arm, I can’t get leverage. I’m going back—more air there.” I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t have much hope. There might be more air beneath the manhole cover, but not for long. The tunnel would soon be filled, and if he couldn’t get out he would drown.
Helpless rage filled me and I banged uselessly against the glass. A rush of water pulled Jeremy back, then slammed him back into the glass, his head slipping under the dark water. “Jeremy!” I screamed. He kicked his legs desperately, pushing his head up to the surface again. . His eyes flicked to the captives in the room. “Get them out, Christy. You can do it.”
He was giving up. This couldn’t be happening. He put his hand on the glass, and I put mine over his. There was no warmth, only the cold, wet glass. His mouth moved, and his words rushed to my heart with blazing heat. “I love you, Christy. Remember that.”
I shook my head. “No! Don’t give up, Jeremy. This is not the end.”
He gave me a small smile before he turned and swam away from the glass, his feet pushing off the rocky walls as the water swallowed him up, and he disappeared into the darkness.
Chapter 11
I banged on the glass and screamed, “I love you, too!” He didn’t turn. The splashing of the water pouring in around the sides of the door made being heard impossible. “I love you, too,” I whispered, resting my head on the glass. Why hadn’t I told him while he was here? Why hadn’t I trusted him?
Secrets in the Storm: A Christy Spy Romance Novella (A Christy Spy Novella Book 2) Page 7
