The Dark and Hollow Places - Carrie Ryan [14]
An alarm begins to ring out and I hear other people shouting as they pour out of buildings with weapons bared.
I hit the ground and the man grabs my free hand, jerking me out of the alley and down another street. Chaos erupts all around us and the stranger keeps us hidden in the shadows, where the crumbling walls block the moon.
He asks only once if I’m okay to keep running and I nod, cold air searing my lungs as I try to catch my breath.
His hand grasps my own tightly, pressing me back when we approach intersections to make sure the way forward is clear. More alarm bells start to ring, the night growing crowded with shouting.
Ahead of us a group of Recruiters rounds the corner, shoulders set and gazes intent. They’re wound tight, weapons flashing, and I try to tug my hand from the stranger’s. I need to get away from their advance.
But the man doesn’t release his grip, which causes my own internal alarms to spike. He saved me on the roof, he’s protecting me even now in the streets, but he’s still a stranger.
“This way,” he says, pushing me down an alley. I dig my heels into the ground, protesting. I’m not sure I should follow him, not sure I can trust him, but the Recruiters are nearing and the sound of moans echoes down the street and so finally I relent.
It’s a narrow alley, almost pitch-black except where the moon glints off shards of glass still stuck in broken windows. “A dead end,” I whisper as a wall rises in front of us. Dread starts to leak through my system.
“You trapped me,” I growl, spinning toward him and raising my knife, ready to fight.
The Recruiters hover at the mouth of the alley, calling for us. I start to back away from the stranger, looking for any means of escape. More moans sound in the distance.
A streak of flame lights the sky several blocks away, illuminating the alley, and I see the stranger hunched over a pair of metal doors set flush with the ground. He’s prying at a chain wrapped around the handles and finally he tugs it free, throwing open the doors.
There’s nothing but darkness beyond, the gleam of the first few steps of a staircase leading down and down. I refuse to move.
The stranger takes the steps, his legs disappearing into blackness. I stare at him. The old subway tunnels aren’t safe and it would be stupid to follow him. I glance at the buildings crouching over the alley but none has a fire escape. My choices are to follow him or take my chance with the Recruiters, already shouting as they race toward us.
The stranger holds out his hand, urging me into the darkness. One choice is a known danger, the other unknown. I hesitate, trying to figure out a third option, but there is none.
Cursing under my breath for getting into this mess, I start down the stairs, tucking the knife into my pocket so I can press my hands against the wall to guide me. The stranger pulls the doors shut behind us, sealing us together in the emptiness. For a heartbeat we stand there, silent and still. And then the Recruiters beat against the doors, and without waiting I race down the stairs, the stranger not far behind.
A sharp pain radiates along my hip where the man kicked me on the roof and my throat feels raw from running through the cold night. It’s pitch-black, and even though I strain my ears, all I can hear is the echo of our pounding steps and the clamoring of my heart.
At the bottom I hit a set of metal bars blocking the entrance to the old station, but I find a gap, wiggle through and keep running until the darkness is too much. Eventually, his steps slow to a stop behind me and I push on a little longer, putting some distance between us as I try to figure out who this person is and how I can stay in control of what’s going on.
I try to swallow the fear that flooded my veins as I was being chased, but the dark is closing in on me and it starts to suffocate my mind. I begin imagining other sounds