Chapter 55 The Garage
Chapter 55 The Garage
"Get behind the tires, Lila," Knox whispered, pulling me flat against the heavy rubber wheel of the Zamboni before the headlights could hit us.
The garage doors were half-open, letting in the freezing night wind and the bright white beams of a campus security SUV. The vehicle was idling right outside the loading dock, its yellow and blue roof lights spinning against the snow-covered asphalt. Two guards were walking down the side ramp, their flashlights cutting through the dark garage shadows.
"The side gate is locked," I whispered, my teeth clicking together from the cold. "If we run across the open parking lot, they'll spot the white bandages on my hands instantly."
"We're not running," Knox said, his voice flat. He reached past my shoulder, his large hand wrapping around the rusted handle of a metal utility cabinet against the wall. He pulled it open, his fingers searching the shelves until he felt a heavy, plastic bottle of industrial floor degreaser. "When I trip the breaker, you bolt for the service door behind the main dumpster. Don't look back."
"Knox, wait," I said, catching his sleeve with my forearm. "The guards have radios. The second the lights go out, they’ll lock down the perimeter fence."
"They won't have time to lock anything," Knox hissed, his jaw clenching as he yanked the thick copper wires out of the master breaker box on the wall.
The garage plunged into total darkness. The loud hum of the ice cooling pumps cut out instantly, leaving only the mechanical whine of the security SUV's engine outside.
"Hey! Who's in there?" a guard shouted from the ramp, his flashlight beam snapping toward the breaker panel.
I didn't wait. I shoved the service door open with my elbow, my boots hitting the icy gravel behind the building in a fast sprint. The freezing winter air hit my face like loose glass, ripping through my hair as I scrambled past the green metal dumpsters toward the dark edge of the campus woods.
A car engine roared to life fifty feet away, its tires screeching against the packed slush of the side lane.
A beat-up gray sedan swung around the corner of the equipment shed, its headlights turned completely off. The passenger door swung open from the inside before the vehicle even came to a full stop.
"Get in!" Mason yelled from behind the wheel.
Knox caught up to me in three long strides, his hand grabbing my waist to hoist me straight into the front seat before he threw himself into the back. He slammed the door shut just as the first security flashlight hit the rear window.
"Drive, Mason," Knox said, his breathing heavy as he leaned over the front console.
Mason slammed the car into drive, hitting the gas so hard the backend fish-tailed wildly before the tires gripped the asphalt. We tore down the dark service road, bypassing the main campus gates where two more security vehicles were already setting up orange cones.
"Where are we going?" Mason asked, his eyes locked on the dark road ahead as he turned the headlights back on. "The police precinct downtown is already crawling with my father's corporate lawyers. They're trying to void my statement."
"We're not going to the police," Knox said, pulling the silver thumb drive from his jacket pocket and holding it up between the seats. "We're going to the Channel 4 studio on 5th Street. The morning broadcast starts in exactly twenty minutes."
My heart hammered against my ribs as I looked at the plastic stick in his hand. "Knox, if we leak that compliance file on live television before the board review, the university legal team will sue us for everything we have."
Knox looked out the window at the blurry streetlights, his blue eyes entirely dark.
"Let them sue," Knox whispered.