“Nate?” Pixel shouted, the sound dampened.
He yelled, “Keep going!”
Juniper’s eyes widened. “You’re letting her get away! She’ll die out there. She’ll burn.”
“You’d rather keep her here? Look at you!” Nate tripped on a sob. His shoulder was on fire, wrenched from its socket. He twisted, trying to relieve the pain, but every movement made it worse. He choked, stomach heaving.
He was going to get Pixel out, no matter what it took. All he had to do now was buy her time. She was smart and quick. Once she got to the surface, she’d find a way to reach the gang. The more he got Juniper to think and talk, the farther Pixel would get before Agatha got back, caught on, and made him pay.
“Look at us,” he said. “Is this any better?”
Juniper rolled over and struggled onto her hands and knees. Her arms shook violently. Sweat matted her hair to her face. When she turned a feral gaze on him, he shrank back and hissed at the pull at his shoulder. “Agatha won’t have to kill you for this, because I will,” she said. “And she’ll be so proud of me.”
“Go ahead.” Nate choked on every word. The fiery pain at his shoulder radiated down his back. He was drowning in it. “I’d rather be dead than live like this. You’re no better off than you were in Gathos City.”
“You don’t know that!” Juniper’s voice became an eerie shriek, guttural and high-pitched at once.
He imagined her tearing him apart with her delicate fingernails. His head swam. He wondered if he’d pass out before she made it to him. If Agatha would find nothing but his hands dangling from the bed frame like ornaments.
Keep going, Pixel. Keep going.
Deep booming sounded at the door.
Juniper straightened, stiff as a scared cat. She sat back on her heels slowly.
Nate gasped, pain squeezing his lungs. “What is that?”
“Not Agatha. And the Breakers she keeps up front to guard us don’t knock.” Her breath whistled. “They never come in. They’re not allowed in.”
The bone at the top of Nate’s arm made a wrenching, scratching sound. “If it isn’t Agatha or her guards, who is it?” he asked, the words slurring as his ears buzzed.
Juniper lost her balance. She drew her knees up and hugged them. Nate was struck again by her childish nature. She wasn’t a kid, but she’d never grown up either.
“I don’t know,” she said. The fury in her eyes was gone, replaced by wide-eyed, tearful fear.
Nate blinked sweat from his eyes. “Whoever it is, they won’t be able to get that door unlocked without tools. Trust me, I tried when it was on the train.”
Metallic clanging rang out.
Juniper whimpered. “That sounds like tools.”
“Then they’ll get in here pretty soon!” Nate shouted.
If she gave up now, she’d spoil any chance they had to survive.
“Juniper! You have to do something.”
She looked at the ceiling grating. “I can’t climb. I’m too tired.”
“Get me free.” Nate coiled his good arm. The tie didn’t give. Blood ran down his forearm from his wrist. “I can help you up.”
“You can’t help me. You’re as small as I am.” Her gaze darted to the ties and the blood, indecision plain on her features. “And Agatha would be mad.”
“She won’t be mad if you’re safe because you let me help you.”
“You’re trying to trick me!” The shriek returned, weaker now, but still as eerie—like wind down an alley. “I’m not stupid. This is all a trick.”
The clanging rang out, louder and echoing. Nate strained to listen—struck by the memory of early morning knocks at the hatch door of their old hideout. A flicker of hope snuffed away. No pattern sounded. No message from Reed in his secret code. Only violent banging and groaning hinges. It sounded like a beast behind the door—something angry. Something hungry.
