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Spell Bound - Kelley Armstrong [119]

By Root 673 0
her face. Let it snap back again.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

“Someone skip the routine inspections?” I said. “Guess you’d better tell us how to turn it off.”

“You can’t,” she whispered as she pulled off the mask. “Once it starts, the room will fill with gas, killing the subjects and everyone—”

I didn’t hear the rest. I ran into the next room as I called Adam.

“Gas,” I said when he answered. “The fail-safe released lethal gas. Forget breaking down the door. Can you incinerate it?”

“That was my next step. Hold on.”

Gas was filling the room now. I could smell it, could feel the chill of it. Bryce handed me a wet towel. “Put it over your nose and mouth.”

I did. Jeremy took the phone and told me to hold on. After a moment, I heard Adam cursing in the background.

“It’s not working,” he called. “Just give me a second.” He inhaled and exhaled loud enough for me to hear him. Then, “Fuck, why isn’t it working?”

“Just relax,” Jeremy murmured. “Try incinerating something else.”

A pause then Adam said, “Okay, it’s not me, it’s the goddamned door. It’s fireproof.” His voice rose. “Savannah? Cover your nose and mouth and find out where the gas is coming from. Try blocking the vent. I’m going to get in there if I have to incinerate the whole damned wall. Just—”

My phone went dead. I shook it. Tried turning it on. Nothing.

“Forget that,” Bryce said. “We need to stop the gas.”

I looked around for the source, but couldn’t even see vents. Bryce hacked so hard he doubled over. One of the machines began blipping frantically. Then it stopped and an alarm started instead.

Another machine began to blip.

“They’re dying,” Bryce said between coughs. “And there’s not a damned thing we can do about it, so don’t try. That probably means the gas is coming up from the floor. Get back in the other room and we’ll stand on the bed—”

He staggered. I grabbed his arm. His eyes rolled back as his mouth worked, trying to talk. I dragged him back to his room. It was empty.

I pushed Bryce onto the bed and spun around, waiting for Anita to attack from a cover spell. But she didn’t. Why would she? Fighting us would only make her use more energy, kill her faster.

So would a cover spell, though.

I looked around the empty room. She’d escaped. Somehow, she’d escaped.

I glanced up. The ceiling was solid and twelve feet overhead. To my left, the window was bricked over, as my father said.

A door. There had to be a—

I came to on the floor without realizing I’d even blacked out. I looked around, dazed. I could smell the gas and see it shimmering in the air.

I started pushing to my feet. Then I saw it—a partly open hatch under the third bed. Covering my mouth, I bent and yanked it open. The hole descended into darkness. As I felt around inside for a ladder, Bryce bent beside me.

“I can’t find a way down,” I said. “But obviously there is one if she used it.”

Bryce reached inside.

“There’s something over here,” he said.

He leaned in farther.

“Don’t—”

He lost his balance. I managed to catch his sleeve, but the sudden jolt sent me sailing over the edge with him.

thirty-seven

I clawed and kicked, desperately trying to stop myself from falling. When I realized it was too late, I tried to twist in midair, to get my head up so it wasn’t the first thing to hit—

My skull slammed into something and there was a momentary flash of “Oh, my God, I’m dead” before I realized I’d plunged into water.

My hands shot over my head to break that final impact with the bottom. I hit hard enough to send pain jolting through my arms.

I felt around. Thick mud over rock or cement. I managed to get my footing and pushed off and up.

By the time my head broke through the surface, my feet had left the bottom. I treaded water and squinted around. Above I could make out the rectangle of the hatch, but it was so high it barely gave off any illumination. I was in a deep pit, with at least ten feet of water. From the sounds of it, I was alone.

“Bryce?” I called.

No answer.

“Bryce!”

I dove, got a mouthful of foul water, and shot back up again, gagging and spitting.

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