All I wanted was to chase my dreams for a solid eight hours. Hell, I’d take half that as long as it was uninterrupted. But no. I was still too wound up to sleep. I couldn’t even say how long I’d been here, still as a corpse, pretending I was playing around in Dreamland.
And now that warning signal of danger was shooting through my body.
I knew better than to ignore it.
Every inch of me was on high alert as I knifed up in bed. I reached for my gun under the pillow as I slipped off the mattress, quiet as a mouse. My steps were silent as my boots rocked over the cheap carpet until my shoulder rested against the wall between the window and the door. Keeping my gun ready at my side, I used my free hand to pull the curtain away from the frame.
“What is it?” Agent Priestley whispered harshly from the other side of the room, where he was in the second bed.
Counting the two SWAT-looking vehicles and the seven undercover cars, I knew we were about to be fucked.
“We gotta move,” I let the small gap close as I stepped away from the window. Shoving the gun in the back of my pants wasn’t ideal, but time was ticking down. “Get what you need, leave everything else.”
I pulled the small, round table into the middle of the room. I hopped on it, nearly losing my balance as the cheap thing rocked under me.
“What are—”
“Hand me that chair,” I said, cutting him off. There was something about how he didn’t question me, just did my bidding. Once I had the chair in my grasp, I ordered him to move the dresser in front of the door.
It wouldn’t keep them out, but it might give us a few seconds longer to escape.
With the low glow of the bathroom light seeping out of the cracked door, I put all my focus on the sagging, brown-stained spot of the ceiling above my head. This wasn’t going to be fun. Nope, not even a little bit. I swung the chair up, surprised when it didn’t break apart in my hands. The ceiling crumbled and gave way in one massive disaster. I knew it would be weak there, but I didn’t expect it to be that bad.
“Shit,” I wheezed as I pulled my shirt up over my nose.
“This is a terrible idea,” Agent Priestley said from behind me.
“It’s all I’ve got,” I said, moving to swing the chair up at the hole in the ceiling. As best as I could, I pulled down whatever was in my way— plaster, wood, insulation. Dropping the chair, I readied myself for the hard part of getting up there. “Toss me that bag.”
He followed the direction of my finger, then quickly snatched up the small backpack and tossed it at me in one breath.
“Nice,” I said as it came perfectly at my center. I hurried to swing it over my shoulder, then jumped and grabbed onto one of the now-exposed beams. With a grunt, I pulled myself up.
When I glanced out the hole, Agent Priestley stood there looking up at me with his brows pulled together in a way that suggested it was probably better if I just left him behind.
“Move your ass, Agent. Let’s fuckin’ go,” I said as I leaned my upper body out of the hole and reached an arm in his direction.
That had been enough to snap him out of it. He blinked quickly as he hopped up onto the table. The prickling sensation grew over my body as he jumped and grabbed onto the beam that was holding up my weight. I reached down and hauled him up by the back of the pants. Though, I didn’t think he really needed my help, so I wasn’t sure why I’d done it.
“Thanks,” he said, bracing his knees on one plank and hands on another.
It was nearly dark, but I could tell there wasn’t enough room for us to stand. This was going to be a fucking obstacle. I hoped he could keep up.
I grabbed the small flashlight from the side pocket of my bag, clicking it on just long enough to see what direction I needed to go. There were no wooden floorboards, not that I expected there to be. I remembered that there was a small room with ice and vending machines at the end of this row of rooms, which happened to have two exits. My plan was to sneak out the back while they had their focus on our room on the front. It was a long shot, but one we had to take. And we had to move before they broke into the room and found out we were crawling like rats through the ceiling.
“Okay, we’re going that way.” I wiggled my narrow beam at the target for half a second before clicking it off and shoving it in my pocket. “Joists are two feet apart. Move quickly, but carefully. If you fall, you’re likely going to crash through someone’s room.”
I didn’t wait for him to confirm, just got moving.
Luck was on my side when I reached the far end to find an attic hatch into the room below. Sure, I had to crash through it since it was bolted from the other side, but it was better than crashing through insulation and shit.
I cringed as my leg clipped the edge of the snacks vending machine, sending it sliding an inch. I didn’t have to look down to know that my pants were ripped, and the trickle of blood I felt sliding down my shin wasn’t good. But as I steadied myself, I saw the teetering bag of trail mix. A quick shoulder to the damn machine as payback for ripping the only pair of pants I now had, and I was rewarded with a treat.
“Score,” I said as I bent over and reached in to retrieve it.
“Really?” the agent said as he dropped down beside me, dull humor in his voice.
“It’s the little things in life…” I shrugged. I didn’t really have a finishing part of that statement. The little things in life that kept me grounded. That made my day. That gave me any sort of joy and distraction from the miserable shit in my head. Take your pick.
