by Rebecca Rode
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.
<
br /> “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?
I stared at the glass door, spewing water by the gallons. Finally, I tore my eyes away. It was not a productive use of my time.
The realization that Jeremy might never return hit me hard. How could I have been so terrible to him? He was doing his best, just like I was. There was an explanation for Celeste. There had to be. I only had to let him tell me what it was. I had to get to him. If I couldn’t find a way out, he would die in the sewers with the storm raging like it was, the water coming from all different points around the city.
I looked back at the glass, the water now four feet deep inside the vault. We had to get out of here now or we would drown. “If you all are the praying sort, now’s the time.” I held my hands out to my sides, inviting the others to come. My head raged as I waited for all who wanted to join in the prayer to make their way to me. As we all linked hands, the water to our waists now, the sweet clerk, Emily, that had helped me said a sweet, sincere prayer. “God, if it be thy will, spare us this day so that we might live on to help others in need.”
After the prayer, the raging in my head turned to a soft drumbeat. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The slight sickness in my stomach seemed to ebb and when I opened my eyes, I could see the last email update on typical passwords that Division had sent out. I was able to think again, and a password I had completely overlooked came to mind. Everything seemed clearer somehow now.
Without a word to anyone, I rushed to the keypad and typed it in. The red light on the keypad turned green and after a tiny click of the lock opening, I pushed on the door, not wasting one second.
With a loud rush of water leaving the room, the steel door creaked open into the area behind it. The water pushed on the guard closest to the opening door, and he struggled to find his balance. The other pointed his gun straight at me. In a flash, I kicked it from his hand and snagged it out of the air, slipping it into my waistband. I advanced. A few well-placed punches made him stumble back into the far wall just in time for me to put my attention on the second guard.
I sent a solid punch right into his Adam’s apple. He grabbed a hold of his neck, choking and gasping for air. I removed his gun from his belt and added it to my waistband. Lam and Freeman joined the fray and pulled the gagging terrorist into the stonewalled prison, throwing him against the wall. He continued to gag and choke.
The remaining guard balled up his fists and clenched his teeth, letting out a little roar as he forced his way through the water to get back to me. Taking advantage of the split second I had as he struggled to move, I went low, kicking at the foot he had raised high over the water. He fell, his head hitting the metal railing of the stairs and he slumped down into the water, dazed and out for the count. I punched him hard in the jaw, my knuckles splitting as they hit bone. His head whipped around and slammed once more into the metal railing and his head drooped. Lam and Freeman returned.
“You’ve got skills, girl,” Lam said. “Good job.”
“Thank you. Could you get him in that room too?” I worked hard to catch my breath. I was obviously not at my best.
“With pleasure.” They dragged him away. I had two guns now. One with one bullet and one with two. Better than a few minutes ago, but still not enough if we ran into any more terrorists. The rest of the freed hostages started pouring into the antechamber.
“Wait! Listen,” I said, fear filling me. “Please, whatever you do, take me and the guy in the tunnels out of your report to the police. We weren’t here.” It dawned on me too late that that wouldn’t work. Why couldn’t I think straight? “Or maybe you could say that two masked people came and helped."
They all looked at me, confusion in their faces. I needed to be more clear, but all I could think about was Jeremy in the sewers fighting for his life.
“Please.”
“You got it,” Lam said, his eyes perusing the group. “It’s the least we can do. You saved us. We’ll all do as you asked. I like the story of masked people coming in and saving us.” He grinned.
Nods and quiet assents came from everyone, even the judges.
“Thank you. Now, we need to get this door closed.” The water had achieved stasis between the antechamber and the room and was rising rapidly in both. I knew it would be difficult to push against the flow.
As many as could, grabbed hold of the door and pushed. Slowly, it closed, then the exodus up the stairs started. What I wanted to do was rush past them in order to save Jeremy. But I knew that if they ended up dying for some reason because I went storming out to save Jeremy, he would never have looked at me the same way. Then a thought struck me, and I called out to the
fleeing captives, “Be careful, there are still a few terrorists on the loose.” If they heard me, I couldn’t tell, they were all too busy escaping their prison, and I didn’t want to slow them. As soon as they were all upstairs, I could go after Jeremy. I had to find him in time.
In a flash, it all came together. The terrorists had used the sewer tunnels to get into the courthouse. They needed a way to get their bombs inside the building without having to go through the metal detectors. They weren’t planting bombs down there, it was a passageway. When the storm came, they had to change plans, and this hidden room was the perfect place to let it play out. Drowning everyone inside would be dramatic and daring. It also meant that I knew where to enter the sewers to get to the underground shelter.
The pictures of manhole 83 and 94 popped into my mind.
How was this possible? Jeremy. The last thing I’d really said to him was that I didn’t trust him. My mind went over everything we’d been through starting with the first time he’d protected me in Washington D.C. Of course I trusted him. I had been an idiot. Now he was out there, possibly drowning, and I was here facing terrorists alone all because my insecurities got the better of me. If we made it through this, I would never doubt him again.
He had to be alive. He must have escaped, but why wasn’t he already here? He’d been gone a very long time. I let hope fill me as I started to race up the steps beside Emily who was the last hostage to leave the room.
I stumbled, dizziness overtaking me. I pressed my body into the wall to steady myself.
"Are you okay?" Emily asked, stopping on the stair above me.
“I got a little dizzy that’s all.”
“I’m sure with the large bump on your head, you have a concussion. You should take it easy. Here, I’ll help you up the stairs.” The last of the group had gone through the doorway at the top of the stairs as Emily and I started making our way up again. It wasn’t until we stepped out of the stairwell that strange noises filtered down the hall to us. Cries. Screams. Terror.
