The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [154]
His face says it all. Lose her.
What?
Lose her! he insists.
She lets go of my shirt and starts running on her own. Not stumbling… not slowing us down. She’s running. Her clear blue eyes search for a way out. Her lips hang open in fear. He thinks it’s so clear-cut. It’s not.
“Let’s just get out of here,” I tell him.
Charlie clamps his jaw and kicks in the speed. As we launch ourselves up the tunnel, he’s only a few feet ahead of me. He’s faster than that. “Charlie, go!” I insist.
“Stay… with me,” he says, cutting between Pocahontas and a Dracula from the Haunted Mansion.
“Up the stairs!” Gillian calls out as the doors whiz by on both sides of the hallway.
But Charlie just keeps running. It’s not until the tunnel starts to curve to the left that I understand what he’s doing. Behind us, the screams of the crowd muffle and fade—quickly replaced by the echoed footsteps of whoever’s chasing us. I turn back to see what’s going on, but thanks to the arc of the hallway, we can’t see them. Which means they can’t see us.
“Now…!” Charlie says, making a sharp right into a short corridor. At the end, he rips open the metal utility door and holds it open for us. Inside, yellow-painted stairs head straight up. I dart in first, followed by Gillian. Charlie’s in the rear. I bound up the stairs two at a time, spiraling toward the top. Gillian’s doing her best, but she’s not as fast.
“Move!” Charlie barks. Squeezing past her, he scrambles upward, putting himself between me and Gillian. He touches my shoulder and nudges me forward.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” I tell him.
At the top of the landing, both of us stop at a closed metal door. Our breathing’s heavy. Charlie’s is heavier than mine. It’s been almost three days since he’s had his medication.
“Are you sure you’re—”
“I’m fine,” he insists. But as I put a hand on the metal bar that’ll open the stairwell door, he says two words that, as long as I’ve known him, have never left his lips.
“Be careful.”
I nod—and with a soft push—inch the door open. Thanks to all the twists and turns of the tunnel, we have no idea where we are. Sticking my head inside, I can barely see anything. The room’s dark, but it appears to be empty. We’re in a back room… or maybe an oversized closet, if I had to guess. Sliding inside, I step lightly and search for context clues. Over my shoulder, Charlie and Gillian close the door to the stairwell and the rest of our light vanishes. At first, I’m completely blind, but as my eyes adjust to the dark, I spot a thin sliver of white light straight ahead. It’s coming from the other side—another door.
Frankenstein-walking with my arms straight out, I reach the wood paneling and feel my way down to the doorknob. A twist leads us to the next room, which is just as dark. This time, though, there’s someone in the—
BAM!
A gunshot roars and I duck down as fast as I can. Behind me, there’s a thud against the floor. I spin around and reach out—but I can’t find Charlie.
74
C’mon—let’s go!” Joey shouted as she punched her horn, honking wildly at the blue Lincoln Town Car with the “GRNDPA7” personalized license plate. Trapped in the enormous line of rental cars and overstocked minivans that were slowly filing into the Walt Disney World parking lot, Joey was ready to rip the steering wheel from the dashboard. “Yes—you! Pump the gas and pull your rolling boat into Dopey 110! Just follow the other cars! Dopey 110!”
“Are you not enjoying your Disney experience?” Noreen asked in her ear.
“Finally!” Joey announced as she reached the front of the line. She was about to hit the gas, but a Disney employee with a Day-Glo yellow vest was blocking the road and waving her to the left like an airline runway guide.
“All vehicles to the left, ma’am,” he called out as nice as possible.
Joey stopped short, refusing to turn. “I need to get to the front gate!” she called out.
“All vehicles to the left,” he repeated.
Joey still didn’t move. “Didn’t you hear what I—?”
Within seconds, two other employees approached her window. “Is there a problem, ma