Zero Game - Brad Meltzer [145]
Lifting me to my feet, he shoves me backwards toward the hole. My legs feel like they’re filled with oatmeal. I can barely stand. “D-Don’t do this . . .” I beg, fighting for my footing.
As always, he’s stone silent. I try my best to stay on my feet. He again slams me in the chest. The impact feels like a sonic boom. I fight to hold on to his shirt, but I can’t get a grip . . . Stumbling backwards, I fly directly toward the hole.
78
WITH HIS ARM LOCKED tight around Viv’s neck, Barry clenched his teeth and leaned back, squeezing as hard as he could. As Viv fought for air, Barry could barely contain her. From the span of her shoulders, she was bigger than he’d remembered. Stronger, too. That was the problem with judging by shadows—you never really knew until you got your hands on someone and felt for yourself.
Viv’s body squirmed and thrashed in every direction. Her nails dug into Barry’s forearm. Still gasping for a breath, she coughed a spray of saliva across his exposed wrist. Filthy, he thought. It only made him pull tighter, tugging her close. But just as he did, Viv reached over her shoulder and clawed at his eyes.
Protecting his face, Barry turned his head to the side. That’s all Viv needed. Reaching back, she grabbed a clump of his hair and pulled with everything she had.
“Aaahh . . . !” Barry roared. “Son of a—!” Leaning forward to stop the pain, he was up on his tiptoes. Viv bent down even further, making him feel every inch of her height. Barry was finally off balance. Throwing her weight backward, she launched herself toward the brick wall behind her. Barry’s back smashed hard into the bricks, but he still didn’t let go. Stumbling out of control, they plowed into the collection of propane tanks, which tumbled like bowling pins. Barry tried to tug Viv back, but as they continued to spin, Viv pushed off even harder. Flying backwards toward a nearby boiler, she felt her full weight crash into Barry as the tip of an exposed pipe drilled into his back, grinding into his spine.
Howling in pain, Barry crashed to his knees, unable to hold on any longer. He could hear Viv’s shoes scuff against the concrete. She scrambled deeper into the room. Not far. Just enough to hide.
Rubbing his back, Barry swallowed the pain and looked around the room. There wasn’t much light, making most of the shadows muddy blobs that seemed to float in front of him. In the distance, he heard a series of raspy grunts and nasally groans. Harris and Janos. It wouldn’t take Janos long to finish that, which meant Barry just had to focus on Viv.
“C’mon—you really think I can’t see you?” he called out, following the scratch of her shoes and hoping the bluff would draw her out. Up high, he could make out the edges of the air-handlers, but down toward the floor, the details faded fast.
To his left, there was a scraping of rock against concrete. Viv was moving. Barry turned his head, but nothing flashed by. It was the same muddy blob as before. Had it moved? No . . . stay focused. Especially now, Barry told himself. Once he got Viv . . . when they pulled this off . . . He’d been at the bottom—this was his turn at the top.
A second later, he heard a high-pitched clink behind him. One of the propane tanks. He turned to chase the sound, but the pitch was too high. Like a pebble against metal. She’d thrown a rock.
“Now you’re testing me?” he shouted, spinning back to the machines. He was trying to sound strong, but as he scanned the room—left to right . . . up and down—the shadows . . . no . . . nothing moved. Nothing moved, he insisted.
All around him, machines hummed their flat, droning symphony. On his right, the furnace flame flicked on, belching up a loud whoosh. On his left, a chugging compressor finished its cycle, clicking into oblivion. The wind whistled straight at him. But still no sign of Viv.
Searching for the panting rise and fall of her breathing, Barry isolated each sound—every