Chapter 123 124

Chapter 123 124
Once the initial lull has passed, pandemonium breaks loose. I guess people are scared it’s some sort of attack. All my survival instincts jump to red alert, and conscious thought goes flying out the window. I see Carlo’s eyes, wide and alarmed, trying not to lose me through the dozen people who’ve come between us.

Stay! his gaze orders.

But all I can think is: He needs me. I have to find him.

I turn and run through the club, pushing past people toward the source of the screaming.

I run, the scream echoing in my ears. I find a long hallway leading off one end of the club and charge down it, not even sure I’m heading the right way.

But then the sounds behind me get quieter and I can pick out the screaming again. It’s him. It’s definitely him.

I’m covered in sweat and my heartbeat is loud in my ears, but I can still hear it. I’ve kicked off my heels, running barefoot, I’m not even sure when. Everything is hazy. I feel slightly drunk, surreal, as though I’ve stepped into one of my paintings.

I turn left, right, left, down a staircase, then another. I’m running blindly through this shadowy labyrinth, but somehow I know that this is where the scream came from.

Rounding a corner, I come to a large metal door—the kind they have in bank vaults. What the hell? This kind of thing doesn’t belong in a nightclub, at least not any nightclub I’ve ever been familiar with. It looks like it’s swung open. A keypad on the front has a small screen, but it’s blank. I wonder if it has anything to do with the power outage.

I go to walk into the cell, but first I stop.

This feels wrong. Someone should be here. I see a stool on one side of the door, like the perch for a permanent guard, but it’s empty. I pause and listen, but down here, there is only the hiss of air conditioning and the vague thump of bass vibrating the concrete structure around us.

Taking a deep breath, I stick my head into the crack of the opened vault door.

Inside, it’s dark, and it reeks. Like, really stinks. It’s like a corpse wrapped in a pig’s insides. I gag.

I try to still my pounding heartbeat as I summon the courage to say the name I’ve spent far too many years not saying. At long last, I can’t avoid it anymore. Someone could be coming back soon. Carlo, or the guard, or anyone who saw me take off into this hallway like a crazy person. I might not have much time.

“Benjy?” I whisper.

I wonder if I’m just crazy. I probably am. Recognizing a scream is an insane thing to do, especially in the midst of a wild nightclub. I was probably wrong. It was probably something else. I’m probably crazy.

Except, probably not.

And then, I know for a fact I’m not, because the voice that comes from deep within the darkness is a voice I have not heard for a long time.

“Jesus, is that you? I can’t reach him. He tripped. Fell. Please help.”

“Reach who?”

I take my cell phone from my cleavage and turn on the flashlight. Ben looks like a child in the beam of white light, squinting up at me. A body lies on the floor near him, but not near enough for him to get to, face down.

That is the guard, I’m guessing, judging by the flashlight that fell to his feet and the set of keys hanging from the man’s belt.

He’s dead.

And when I look up, I know exactly what happened.

When the power went, he came in here and Ben must have… I keel over, vomiting between my feet, my belly giving a violent twist. The smell has doubled, tripled in strength. It’s nauseating. Horrible. Like something out of a nightmare.

I look up and wipe the spit from my lips. Ben’s face is a patchwork of bruises, smeared blood, and cuts. He nods urgently at the body. He’s got one hand handcuffed to a radiator.

“He has the keys,” he says. “Come on. Quickly.”

“I …”

“Look what they did to me. Why are you even here? Jesus. No, it doesn’t matter. Just get the keys. Before the power comes back. Quick.”

I feel like I’m not even real as I root through the dead man’s pockets. His throat is a jagged tear of flesh. That’s when I notice that Ben’s mouth is covered with fresh blood. I fight down the urge to be sick again. This is major-league fucked.

“Try the other pocket.”

“I’m fucking trying, Benjy.”

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“Here it is.”

I hand him the key and step back, shivering. It’s like I’m floating above my body, completely detached, just obeying Benjy as he tells me what to do. As he unlocks the handcuffs, the lights flicker on above us. The electronic door gives a hum as it kicks back online. Benjy grins savagely and stands up, cracking his neck from side to side.

“Please say this bastard has a gun …” He leans down, efficiently patting down the body. “Ah, here we go. Come on.”

“I’m staying here,” I tell him with a sudden resolve. My voice is quiet even to my own ears.

“What?” Ben laughs. He’s standing at the door, eyes narrowed. “Stop screwing around. Let’s go.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going back.”

He hefts the pistol. “I could force you. You know I could.”

We meet eyes. I see the boy underneath the monster. “But you won’t.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, tossing the pistol from hand to hand. “You’re not with him, are you?”

I just glare at him. “They’re going to be here any second.”

“Ah, it’s okay,” he smiles. “There’s a secret tunnel in the storage closet.”

“How do you know that?”

He grins bloodily at the dead man. “Made him tell me before he died. Are you sure you won’t come?”

“I’m sure,” I mumble. “I … I don’t want to go back there.”

“I wish I had longer to convince you. Stay safe, okay? You look good. You look healthy. I love you, sis.”

“I love you,” I whisper, numb.

From down the hallway, footsteps sound. Men are yelling. Benjy ducks his head and sprints away without another word. I’m left standing with the corpse, breathing in the stink of death, wondering if what just happened was real.

I keep hoping I’ll wake up in the back of the limo with my head on Carlo’s shoulder, blink sleep from my eyes, and smile up at him. “Are we there yet?” I’ll ask, kissing him softly on the cheek before falling back to sleep.

But when I close my eyes and open them again, not a single thing has changed.