2:23
2:22
Gus was hunched over, arm stretched down into the exposed guts of the bomb.
“Go,” he muttered. “I can’t…I can’t reach it.”
“Where? What am I looking for?” Eric dropped to his hands and knees, trying to look up from the side. He could see Gus’ fingers.
“There’s a switch. A kill switch.” Gus grunted. “I can’t…I can’t reach it.”
Eric tried, hope a bitter, terrifying thing as he wiggled his massive arm through the web of wires without disconnecting any of them. He didn’t need to be told that yanking wires would be a very bad thing.
“Out of my way,” Nikolett snapped, stepping over Eric to join Gus. “What am I looking for?”
“No,” Eric breathed even as Gus started pointing and explaining. “No. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“You were really going to die here as some deeply troubling brotherly bonding experience while I…” She trailed off as she leaned over, sticking her arm down into the bomb. Gus put a hand on her waist to steady her. “…watched from outside? No. I sent a text telling everyone to stay back until I said otherwise.”
From his position on the floor, Eric saw it. The moment her slender arm did what neither his nor Gus’ could, sliding far enough in that she could flick the kill switch.
The quiet beeping of the clock fell silent.
Eric rolled onto his back on the dirty floor, which may have been an actual dirt floor, or maybe a stone floor layered with grime to the point the stone was entirely camouflaged.
Nikolett carefully extracted her arm with Gus’ help. Then she touched Gus’ cheek—the three scratches Eric had noticed but didn’t get a chance to ask about.
“You two fought?” he asked from the floor.
“Yes.” Gus stepped away from Nikolett, awkwardly putting his hands in his pockets.
Eric wrapped a hand around Nikolett’s ankle, anchoring them together.
“Did you hit her?” he asked Gus softly.
“No.” Gus met Eric’s eyes. “But I would have. And I hurt her in other ways.”
“I hit him,” Nikolett said.
Eric sat up, keeping a hand on her.
“Will you hurt her again?” Eric asked slowly.
“Does it matter? The things I’ve done?—”
“It matters. Answer my question. Will you hurt her again?”
Gus looked at Nikolett, and a desperate longing Eric understood all too well stamped itself on his face as he looked at her.
But Gus never got to answer, because with a beep, the bomb switched on again.
This time, the clock started at 4:00.
“Fuck, I didn’t ask for a reset kill on this one,” Gus snarled. “Why is it a reset kill?”
Nikolett didn’t hesitate, curling over the bomb and once more weaving her hand and arm between the components.
“No,” Gus said. “Let me think. Don’t?—”
