Bloodshot - Cherie Priest [103]
“I don’t know,” he said for what must’ve been the thousandth time.
“Yes you do. Yes you can. But first, you have to get out of there and check. Come on, Domino. You’re a sneaky motherfucker, I know it for a fact.” And I did. He wasn’t quite as good at sneaking as Pepper was at hiding, but I’d definitely give him a bronze in the sport.
“I’m a sneaky motherfucker,” he repeated.
“That’s right, and you keep saying it.”
“I’m a sneaky motherfucker.”
“There you go. Now—” And I did my damndest to recall and imagine the major airway workings of the factory. And yes, of course I was familiar with them. You do remember what I do for a living, right? It’s basically my job to know all the ways in and out of a place, and this extends to my own places, too. “—now are you facing out, over the main shop floor?”
“Shop?”
“It used to be a shop. They made rubber boot soles or something. You’re facing out over the floor, right?”
“Right. I can see these guys, Raylene—”
“Ignore them. Turn around and, quiet as you can, head back inside.”
“Inside the vent?” More squeaking.
“Did I mumble? Yes, get back inside the vent. It ought to be big enough for you to turn around, but do it quietly.”
“But it’s dark back there!” he complained. “I can’t see anything.”
“Doesn’t matter. I know which way the thing goes. I’ll talk you through it, come on. Turn around and start crawling.”
“I’m putting the phone in my shirt pocket,” he told me. “Hang on.”
So I hung on while he scraped, scooted, and dragged himself down the square metal track that wormed back deeper into the building. During this lull in the conversation, Adrian came to crouch beside me—moving without making even the slightest sound.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I put my hand over the phone’s “receiver” end. “Not so much. And thanks for being quiet. Do me a favor, please? Stay that way. Nothing personal, but this is bad.”
“Are you talking to a kid?”
“Yes. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you soon. Please, please, please do me a favor and leave me alone for a few minutes. Just let me talk him through this, and I promise I’ll tell you anything you want when this is sorted out.”
“Raylene?” Domino called softly.
I waved Adrian away again. He nodded grimly and walked away, going back to my bedroom and closing himself in there. I couldn’t complain. He’d slept on the couch after all, and my bedroom was definitely the most isolated part of the unit.
I returned my attention to Domino. “What?”
“Who are you talking to?”
“A … a friend. Don’t worry about it. How’s your progress?”
“I can’t see anything!”
I said, “I know. And I’m sorry. But there’s a fork up ahead.”
“I already found it.”
“You found it?” I pinched at the spot between my eyebrows and fought to remember the layout. “Then you’ll need to take the right tunnel. And I’m sorry, but it’s going to be blind. You just have to trust me that it’s going to play out all right.”
He said, “I trust you.”
I didn’t believe him. I didn’t even think he believed him. But he didn’t have a choice and I appreciated the vote of confidence, so I said, “Good. All you have to do is listen to me, and I’ll have you out on the roof in a jiffy.”
“The roof?”
“Yes, the roof. There are two old fire escapes up there, either one of which you can use to let yourself down. They aren’t super-sturdy, but you don’t weigh a hundred pounds and I’ve seen you scramble like a monkey. You’ll be fine.”
“It’s raining. They’ll be wet.”
“It’s always raining. It’s always wet.” In Seattle, if you let the weather keep you from going about your business, you’ll never leave the house. He knew it as well as I did, though. I understood that he was only talking to hear his own voice,