“Vinny, where are you?”
It was Jude. My heart jumped. It was like whatever daze I was in was lifted. I couldn’t leave him behind. Gabe looked down at me, and I lifted my chin to him. “I gotta get Jude. We can’t leave him.”
“Vinny, no?—”
The echo of Gabe’s voice faded as I began sprinting down the tunnel. I tried to keep my breathing and footsteps quiet, running on my tiptoes. As the fork came into view, I saw the silhouette of a round man. Coming down the tunnel, a pack of Dogs emerged, their red eyes gleaming menacingly in the dim light.
“Pete!” I yelled. “Run!”
He turned to face me. “Turn ‘round, Vincent. Go up the ladder, it’s not safe for yeh here.”
I saw a flicker of light dance near his overalls, and his eyes shifted downward. At his feet was a box of dynamite, and in his hands, he held a stick, the fuse sparking dangerously. My mouth dropped. “Pete, what-what are you doing?”
“There’s no way we’re all makin’ it out o’ this an’ those bastards will notify their pack of anyone who escapes.” He held up the sparked dynamite. “I’m makin’ sure ya’ll get outta here.”
“No, you can’t, there must be another way!”
“It’s time for me to be with Patty. She’s been waitin’ fer me fer far too long.” Pete touched my face, water glistening in his eyes. “Run back ta da ladder, so you don’ get caught in da crossfire.”
“I-is Jude okay?” I started backing away slowly, knowing my pleas were useless.
Pete nodded and cocked his head down the other tunnel at the fork. “Don’ forget what I told ya—listen to yer heart and live yer life because yeh only got one to live.”
I watched in horror as the six Dogs ascended upon Pete, their claws scraping against the ground as they launched themselves at him. With a rush of wind, they landed on the round man and the box of dynamite. My last memory of Pete was his hand in the air, reaching for his wife, even though his body had been pummeled to the ground.
The sudden loud bang echoed through the empty space, replaced only by an unsettling, heavy silence. A high-pitched sound ran through my ears. The impact hit me with the force of a runaway train, throwing me forward and ripping my legs out from under me. A white-hot pain shot through me as I slammed against a wall of the stony tunnel.
“Vinny! Where are you?”
It was Gabe. His voice was scared and hoarse. I never heard him like this. It scared me because I knew something was wrong. I tried yelling back to him, but I couldn’t speak. A wave of paralysis washed over me, and though I tried to move, I was trapped within my own body. I felt useless, like my brain and body weren’t connected.
Fear ran through my mind. Was I dying?
A high-pitched squeal vibrated in my ears, drowning out Gabe’s terrified screams as darkness consumed me.
I carry on,I carry on.
Chapter Thirty-One
The weight of my eyelids was nearly unbearable, and my body felt as heavy and unresponsive as if it were made of stone. Every nerve throbbed, as if I’d been flattened by a bus and my body was still vibrating from the impact. I pushed against the invisible force pinning me, but my body refused to move. What happened to me? Someone grabbed my arm, and I mustered all the strength I had to croak, “Jude? Gabe?” The person’s fingers quickly left my arm, and footsteps pitter-pattered away.
I strained my ears, listening intently for any sound that might give any indication of my location. A low, rhythmic beeping pulsed to my left as I struggled to open my heavy eyelids. My vision was blurred, a milky film obscuring the world like a dirty pane of glass pressed against my forehead, each object hazy and indistinct. A thick woolen blanket covered my feet, barely visible as my brain pieced together surroundings. I was in a bed.
Where the hell am I?
A woman with thick, slightly smudged glasses walked toward me, her footsteps barely audible. Vanessa noticed me stirring, and her jaw dropped in surprise. “Vinny, are you awake?”
My throat tightened, a suffocating pressure building, and I strained to force it out. “Y-yes.” It was all I could muster while my body and mind were in a battle for control. Hopefully, Nessa could help me. Wherever I was.
“Hold on.” In a flash, she was gone, then reappeared with an older man whose presence conveyed quiet authority. His lips were so cracked, it looked like he constantly sucked on a lemon. Nessa directed him, “He’s awake, see? Can you take him off the medication?”
The man pursed his lips and walked to my left, fiddling with a plastic bag of liquid hanging from a rusty hook. “This will be good for him. He may have a slight allergy toward the medication because his body has broken out in a mild rash.”
I tried to tell the doctor that the rash was from my constant itching, but my jaw wouldn’t move. My tongue felt thick and heavy, refusing to cooperate as I struggled to form words. I strained to recall the events that led me here, but my memory was a foggy maze with no clear path to the truth.
“Vincent, I’m so happy you’re awake.” Nessa excitedly clapped her hands. “You’re underground, in the infirmary at Silvertown.”
“Is he awake?” A voice boomed from behind Nessa, the sound echoing in the room as a large, round man strode in.
