I hadn’t always listened to June when she was alive, but I listened to her now.
I picked up my pace as I doubled back. I only hesitated for a second when I came to the first set of intersecting tunnels. I was worried about getting lost, but I was more worried about being caught.
I turned right and felt a moment of relief when the voices of the men behind me got fainter.
But it only lasted a minute. The voices got louder fast, and I wondered if they were coming from the same guys I’d heard before or if I had a new group on my tail.
I’d been alone so long in the tunnels that I’d started to get comfortable, had started believing my only enemy was the darkness, the possibility of getting lost. The voices behind me (getting louder?) were a harsh reminder that I wasn’t here just to wander the tunnels for twenty-four hours.
I had to evade capture by the masked men who’d been looking at me and the other girls like we were their next delicious meal.
I broke into a jog, trying to put more distance between me and the men on my tail.
But it didn’t seem to matter. Their voices got louder and a chill ran down my spine when one of them let out a whoop that sounded less like a bunch of guys having some dark and dirty fun and more like a war cry.
A primal shot of fear ran through my body.
They were running now. I knew it because their voices got louder by the second.
I ran for another few seconds, passed another red light, then stopped in front of a bunch of junk pushed against the side of the tunnel. Straddling the boundary of the red glow, the pile of stuff was half in the light and half in shadow.
I frantically tried to assimilate what I was seeing: a rusted metal table with wheels, a haphazard pile of boxes, two stacks of metal chairs.
And something else: a hulking piece of furniture just past the glow of the red light: an old cabinet, tall enough to be wedged under the ceiling of the tunnel.
“I think I smell her.” The voice came from one of the men.
Close now. Way too close.
I flung open the cabinet doors, hoping for enough room to hide, then felt my heart sink when I saw that the cabinet was divided by a shelf in the middle.
The space above and below looked too small to hold me, but the voices were even louder now, so close I was surprised the men couldn’t see me.
I crouched down and wedged myself into the lower half of the cabinet, pulling my legs in behind me. I felt the thrill of victory in the moment before I realized the cabinet door wouldn’t close all the way.
I tried to pull my legs tighter against my body, but it was impossible. I’d taken up every ounce of space available and the cabinet door was still cracked open an inch.
And now it was too late. The men were right on top of me.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a deep voice taunted.
My heart beat so hard in my chest it was almost painful, adrenaline flooding my body, making me want to burst out of the cabinet and run.
But that would be stupid, and I forced myself to hold still, to quiet my breathing as much as possible as the three men paced in front of me.
I caught the flash of their bodies in the low red light seeping from the bulb a few feet away, caught sight of their masks, not the bone masks (anyone but them) but the birds of prey that had looked like deranged vultures in the holding room.
Then they were still, standing right in front of the cabinet where I was hiding.
“Think she’s hiding behind those boxes?” one of the men asked.
He was taunting me. They knew where I was. They were standing right in front of me, their legs visible through the crack in the cabinet door.
“Worth a shot,” another one said, his voice smug.
I heard the boxes topple over next to the cabinet.
“Hmm, that’s strange,” another voice said. “I smell strawberries. You smell strawberries, Hawk?”
