Timeline - Michael Crichton [111]
Panicked, Chris said, “What do we do now?”
:
Marek said, “Kate, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Where?”
“Just down the corridor. I came back because I figured they’d never look for me here.”
“Kate,” Marek said, “come here. Quickly.”
Marek heard her footsteps as she ran toward them.
The guard coughed, rolled onto his back, then propped himself up on one elbow. He looked down the corridor and hastily began to get to his feet.
He was on his hands and knees when Kate kicked him, snapping his head back, and he fell onto the floor again. But he wasn’t unconscious, only dazed. He started to get up, shaking his head to clear it.
“Kate,” Marek said, “the keys. . ..”
“Where?”
“On the wall.”
She backed away from the guard, got the keys on a heavy ring, and brought them to Marek’s cell. She put one key in the lock and tried to turn it, but it didn’t turn.
With a grunt, the guard threw himself at her, knocking her away from the cell, into the center of the room. They grappled, rolling on the floor. She was much smaller than he was. He held her down easily.
Marek was reaching through the bars with both hands, pulling the key out of the lock, trying another. It didn’t fit, either.
Now the guard was straddling Kate, both hands around her neck, strangling her.
Marek tried another key. No luck. There were six more keys on the ring.
Kate was turning blue. She made rasping, choking sounds. She pounded her fists on the guard’s arms, but her blows were ineffectual. She punched at his groin, but his surcoat protected him.
Marek shouted, “Knife! Knife!” but she didn’t seem to understand. Marek tried another key. Still no success. From the opposite cell, Johnston yelled something in French to the guard.
The guard looked up and snarled a reply, and in that moment Kate brought her dagger out and slammed it into the guard’s shoulder with all her strength. The blade didn’t penetrate the chain mail. She tried again, and again. Furious, the guard began to pound her head against the stone floor to make her drop the knife.
Marek tried another key.
It turned with a loud creak.
The Professor was shouting, Chris was shouting, and Marek flung the door open. The guard turned to face him, getting to his feet, releasing Kate. Coughing, she swung the knife at his unprotected legs, and he yelled in pain. Marek hit him twice in the head, very hard. The guard fell on the floor, not moving.
Chris unlocked the door for the Professor. Kate got to her feet, color slowly returning to her face.
Marek had pulled out the white wafer and had his thumb on the button. “Okay. We’re finally all together.” He was looking at the space between the cells. “Is this big enough? Can we call the machine right here?”
“No,” Chris said. “It has to be six feet on each side, remember?”
“We need a bigger space.” The Professor turned to Kate. “You know how to get out of here?”
She nodded. They started down the corridor.
30:21:02
She led them quickly up the first flight of spiral stairs, feeling a new confidence. The fight with the guard had somehow freed her; the worst had happened, and she had survived. Now, even though her head was throbbing, she felt calmer and clearer than before. And her research had all come back to her: she could remember where the passages were.
They came to the ground floor and looked out into the courtyard. It was even busier than she had expected. There were many soldiers, as well as knights in armor and courtiers in fine clothes, all returning from the tournament. She guessed it was about three in the afternoon; the courtyard was bathed in afternoon light, but shadows had begun to lengthen.
“We can’t go out there,” Marek said, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry.” She led them upstairs to the second floor, then quickly down a stone passageway with doors opening to the inside, windows on the outer side. She knew that behind the doors were a series of small apartments for family or guests.
Behind her, Chris said, “I’ve been here.” He pointed to one of the doors. “Claire is in that room there.