A shrill voice stopped me in my tracks.
I whirled around. Courtney stood opposite us, flanked by Tillie and Amber, her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. She jabbed a manicured nail in the direction of the pleasure garden. “The party isthatway. Or is there some other reason you’ve knocked all the teachers out so we finished class early?”
I don’t have time for this.“There is another reason. We’re going to tell you all about it tonight. In the meantime, you gotta trust us. Can you do that?”
“Don’t worry, Courts. It’s not a real party until I show up,” Quinn blew her a kiss. I expected Courtney to demand to know what was happening, or to come with us, but she only laughed and flounced away.
The keys jangled in my hand as we turned back to the gym. Down, down, down, we crept into the darkened hallway, past the rusting old lockers and dusty storage closet that led down to the god’s cavern. His presence hung thick in the air, and I sensed the edges of his mind tugging at me. He watched us in his dreams. In the darkness, his shadows lurked – commanded by me now, they were ready to leap out at anyone who tried to stop us.
I braced myself for the horrific odor leaking from the gym, but it wasn’t as bad as I remembered. The rotting scent still clung to my throat as we walked, but it no longer choked out everything else. As we approached the rolling door to the gym, I heard fans whirring from inside. The teachers must be trying to clear out the stench of their evil before the dance.
I sucked in a deep breath and shoved the door.
It rolled back just enough to allow us entry. I slipped in first, followed by the guys. I clicked on my phone’s flashlight function and swung the pale beam around the vast space. The place wasn’t nearly as oppressive as last time we visited. Someone had swept the court, so dust no longer swirled in tall columns around us as we walked. Some of the bleachers had been dismantled, and the wood was stacked in neat piles beside the outer door. Extractor fans worked to clear their air of the noxious odor of death.
As we stalked across the court toward the weight room, a scritching noise started at the top of the bleachers and rolled toward us. Even though I’d heard the approach of the rats enough times now to know they were on our side, I couldn’t help the tightness in my chest. Those tiny feet and sharp claws scratch-scratch-scratching… it never failed to incite terror.
Rats bounded across the court to circle us. They faced away from us, watching the doors, their little noses twitching with nervous anticipation.Our guards. They would alert us if any teachers woke from their stupor and came after us.
A lock that looked like it would be more at home on the safe from a spaceship had been installed on the rolling door. I slid Atwood’s key into one of the locks and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Try both at once,” Trey suggested.
I shoved Ms. West’s key into the other lock and turned both at the same time. The lock clicked open. I hurled up the roller door, revealing a darkened room beyond.
The first thing that hit me was the smell. Now that much of the dead stench had disappeared, I was able to articulate the unique odor of this prison. It reeked of human filth – blood, shit, piss, sweat clinging to an unwashed body, tears left to dry on parched cheeks. I clamped my hand over my mouth as bile rose in my throat.
My flashlight beam swung around the room, leaping over dusty equipment, the laboratory benches along the center of the room, the closed door of the sauna.Where is she—
“Took you long enough,” a voice croaked.
Zehra.
She clung to a steel weight rack that had been bolted to the floor. Beside her, a filthy mattress and bucket containing I didn’t want to know were stacked by the wall. Her eyes bugged from her haggard face as she recognized us.
“Brother?”
Before I could stop him, Ayaz barreled across the room and scooped her into his arms. Her tiny figure was lost in his broad shoulders as he smothered her in his embrace. She collapsed against him, clinging to his neck as if he were the only thing holding her upright. I noticed dried blood on the end of her fingers from where her nails had been pulled off.
Ayaz let out a sob that rent my soul. “What’s that witch done to you?” He cupped Zehra’s face in his hands, tracing the cuts that crisscrossed her cheeks and the blistering burns on her earlobes.
She shook her head. “The important thing is that you’re here now. And you’ve brought reinforcements. Hi, Hazel.”
I knelt down beside her. “Let’s get you out of here.”
We didn’t have keys for the locks that bound Zehra’s chains, but they were old and malleable. Ms. West didn’t expect anyone to get past her new lock. I held the chains in my hand, calling up the righteous anger inside me until a flame burned in my palms. The metal bubbled between my fingers, and a moment later, the shackles fell away from Zehra’s wrists.
She rubbed her wrists, wincing as her fingers traced red welts. Trey stepped forward, sliding his arm under her shoulders. Ayaz went to the other side and hauled her up. She couldn’t stand under her own weight, but with the two of them guiding her, she staggered toward the door.
“Wait. Aren’t you going to help her?” Zehra gasped.
“Help who?” Quinn whipped his head around the room. His eyes widened as he fixed on a shape in the far corner. I followed his gaze.
A woman slumped in a leg curl machine, her wrists and ankles chained down, her eyes bound and a gag stuffed in her throat. Her head lulled to the side. She moaned and tried to lift her head, but she couldn’t seem to do it.
Even with her hair silver from age and streaked with filth, her skin wrinkled, and her clothes torn and bloody, I recognized her.
Courtney’s mother, Gloria Haynes.
