He puts his face up to mine. “Tell me where he is, and I’ll let you go. I’m on your side.”
Connor makes me sick. He’s responsible for all our misery. I spit into his face. He lurches back, then calmly wipes the spit away. His eyes seethe with rage.
He balls his hand into a fist and cracks the knuckles. “You’re going to regret that.”
*
AIDEN
Of course, they locked the door behind them. That would have been too easy. No other doors lead into the building, and fencing with razor wire blocks all access to the dam. No going through that way.
Downriver, a small boathouse sits near the base of the dam, a wooden structure built into a dock that runs along the riverbank. If I can find a boat, maybe there’s a way to get into the dam from the water. I scamper down an embankment to check it out. A quick test of the door to the boathouse confirms it’s locked. No surprise there. But the front of the structure is open to the water. With a little gymnastics, I climb around the edge of the building and slip in.
A small power boat bobs in the water, tied up on the dock. It hasPoliceprinted on its side and a flasher and siren mounted on top. No keys, of course. A small rowboat sits next to the police boat. It looks perfect for heading out on the water undetected. I hop in and push it out into the river.
It’s dark on the water, with dawn still at least an hour off. The dam looms large on my left as I paddle along it, looking for some way to get in. But I’m met only with fifty feet of concrete heading nearly straight up.
As I continue, the rushing sound of water gets louder. In the middle of the dam is a large ramp with water racing down it. This must be where excess water spills over from the upriver side of the dam. Concrete shoulders run along each side of the ramp, guiding the water. They appear wide enough to walk up; this might be my ticket to getting in. I navigate the boat to the edge of the dam and tie it up.
I stow my backpack under a seat in the rowboat, then grab the handgun from the front flap and tuck it into the back of my pants. The grenades I took from Ezra’s bunker are also in the front flap. I take a few and clip them to my belt. You never know.
The ramp starts nearly flat, so it’s easy to climb, though a torrent of water rushes next to me. The farther I go, the steeper it gets. Before long, I’m crawling on my hands and knees along the ramp’s shoulder. From below, it didn’t seem quite this steep. But as I get higher, it’s more like I’m scaling the face of a cliff.
Near the top, the slope of the ramp is practically vertical. Clinging to the concrete edges takes all my strength. Hand over hand, leg over leg, I inch closer. The swiftly cascading water beside me punctuates just how steep the ramp is. A peek downward sends my head reeling. I must be fifty feet high. A drop from this height would not end well. My pulse, already fast from the exertion, jumps up another notch.
Finally, I reach the top edge and heave myself up and over.Wow, that’s a long way down. Here, the ramp flows through the structure of the dam, and I continue on to see if there’s a way inside. And not a moment too soon. An armed guard above me, patrolling the top of the dam, shines a flashlight in various directions. I scamper under cover of the dam mere seconds before the beam scans the area where I just stood.
Inside, a metal catwalk spans above the spillway ramp. It’s slick from the splashing water below it, so I carefully climb onto it. On either side of the catwalk, steel doors lead inside. I head to the door to my right.
If this is locked, I’m screwed.
To my relief, the doorknob turns, and I slip through. Inside, a metal staircase descends into darkness.
“Hello?” A gruff male voice far below me calls out. “Who’s up there?”
A flashlight turns on, its erratic glow creating dancing shadows. I catch glimpses of a man running up, each footfall making a booming echo.
Shit.
There’s nowhere to hide.
I crouch at the landing, waiting to pounce. As the man rounds the corner of the stairs below me, I leap over the railing and drop fifteen feet, landing hard on him and knocking his gun away. The element of surprise is enough to give me the upper hand. In seconds, I have him in an air-constricting headlock. He grasps at my arm and flails his legs, trying to get free. But I’ve practiced this move far too many times, and soon, he succumbs to the lack of oxygen.
I grab his gun and hurry down the remaining flights and come to a door. The muffled sounds of voices come from beyond. Cupping my hand, I listen. Several people are talking, but one voice booms above the rest.Connor.
I open the door and close it gently behind me. I’m in a massively long room, illuminated by candlelight. This must be the turbine room.
Inside, the voices are more distinct. Among Connor’s voice are others I don’t recognize. And then, Zach’s voice lifts above the rest. A wave of relief flows through me. I found him, and he’s alive.
I get low to the ground and slink closer, using the massive turbines as cover. Peering around one, I see what I’m up against. And it’s not good. Zach is strapped to a chair. Connor, two men, and one woman hover around him, all armed. One I could handle. Two is pushing it. Taking on four people would be suicide.
What I need is a distraction.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A Distraction
ZACH
