Dust falls from the ceiling, where T’s bullets decimated the molding.
Everyone is silent.
“Stop wasting time,” he says, his voice cold.“We’ve got work to do.”
“But, boss—” The jerk who hit me sounds put out.
“What did I say?Put ’em in the back and keep a lookout.The alarm’s been triggered, which means we have minutes before the cops start setting up outside.I need you up here.”
“Fine.”The jerk spits the word out but then stays quiet.
Tegan and I are being shoved down the corridor and to the left, into a room that is already full of hostages.
The door is closed behind us.
More footsteps sound in the hallway, but Sterling never appears.
They must have taken him to the same room as the other guy.
Fuck.
Most of us sit on the floor, although one or two people are standing, propped up against the wall.One man is curled up into a ball in the corner, his head in the lap of a woman—partner, friend?—who is trying to soothe him.
There’s a window high on the left, closed and barred.Likely glued shut.
Even with the heat on, the chill seeps through.
If the movies tell the truth, they might turn that off soon, and I worry what that will mean for the older gentleman who is already breathing in rasps.
“Do you have your inhaler?”I ask him.Alice always keeps hers nearby.
He nods with jerky movements.“My—my pocket.”
I push up onto my knees and shuffle closer.“Can I help?”
“Please,” he says.“I can use it, but I can’t—can’t reach.”
“It’s okay.I’ll get it for you.”I slip my fingers into his jacket pocket, feeling for the inhaler and almost falling over with relief when I pull it out.
As soon as it hits his hands, he uses it, and I stay with him, matching his deep breaths until I’m sure he’s okay.
“Thank you.”
I don’t know how to tell him that he shouldn’t need to thank me.That anyone could and would do the same, but I’ve lived here long enough to know it’s not always true.
Still, I want to believe.
“The cops will be here soon,” I assure him.“I heard them before they dragged us in here.We’ll be home before you know it.”I hope.
As if I timed it, we hear a chorus of sirens outside.Relief ripples through the room, and soft murmurs of conversation start to pick up.
I return to Tegan.She’s silent now, but her eyes are glassy.Far away.
“Do you know the first thing I’m going to do after we get out of here?”I ask her.“Have the greasiest, cheesiest burger with extra pickles.I’ve been craving one all weekend.”
Tegan sniffles.Blinks.Someone nearby coughs.
She doesn’t answer.
