Page 126 of The Devil's Advocate

Patricia tried to get up off the bed, but cried out when she put her weight down on her swollen ankle. The day, like every day, had taken its toll on Patricia Dubois. Andy helped her up. She was in her dressing gown and slippers. Andy in sweatpants and a tee.

He helped Patricia to get moving, supporting her weight on her weak side, holding onto her arm with one hand, his other arm draped around her for balance.

With every step Patricia grew a little stronger, and the ankle became accustomed to the weight. They left the room, Kate let go of the door and led them down the hallway to the stairs. There were no other guests in The Chanterelle. They were one floor up. No elevators. They took the stairs as fast as they could, Patricia holding onto the rail with one hand and Andy on her bad side.

They reached ground level. The bar, lounge and reception were empty. The front door was wide open. Kate could hear a large engine idling.

Eddie had told her not to use to front exit.

She looked around, but there were no signs for an exit other than the front door.

‘We should get out the front while we can,’ said Patricia.

‘No, we can’t go that way,’ said Kate, breathing hard. It wasn’t from the light running. Kate was short on breath because she was on the verge of panic. It was stripping down her strength – and stopping her from thinking clearly.

Shutting her eyes tightly, Kate swore, then dug her nails into her palms. She needed something. A jolt. A sharp flash to wake her up from this rising, nervous energy that took over her body and mind. Clouding everything.

It worked.

‘Kitchen,’ said Kate.

The Chanterelle only served one meal a day. Breakfast. With a choice of pancakes and eggs, or eggs and pancakes. They had both. On Thursdays it was waffles and bacon. Served in the lounge.

Kate took off down the hallway toward a door with a sign on it that readStaff Only. She tried the handle and the door opened to reveal a small kitchen. White tile on the wall, yellowed with grease, a grill on the other side of the stainless-steel island in the center of the room. Next to the grill – a fire door.

‘Come on,’ she said.

Andy and Patricia followed Kate into the kitchen, around the island, and Kate saw the bar on the fire door had been broken. She pushed it, shoved it with her shoulder and the door gave way to the outside. Kate held the door for Andy and Patricia. There was a step down from the kitchen to the back lot.

Once they were through, Kate came out and the fire door slammed shut behind her.

Andy and Patricia were standing there. Unmoving.

‘We need to get clear of the building. There’s …’

Kate’s voice trailed off as she joined the mother and son. They were in a rear storage area for the hotel. Busted lounge seats, an old mattress and various cardboard boxes lined an area not much bigger than one of the bedrooms in the place, with the entire area caged off with a ten-foot-tall chicken wire fence.

There was a door in the fence, made of aluminum bars and chicken wire, with a deadbolt that went through the metal bar that was part of the doorframe. The deadbolt was padlocked.

‘We can’t get out,’ said Patricia, gasping for air. The exertion was part of it, but she was scared too.

The padlock wasn’t new, but it looked sturdy and secure. Kate looked around for something heavy, anything she could use to break the lock. There was an old gas cylinder, rusted to the ground behind some garbage bags but she didn’t think she could lift it. An old paint can, but that wouldn’t be heavy enough.

At the door of the fence they were maybe twelve feet from the building. Certainly not clear of it. If a bomb did go off, they were not safe. Not even close.

Andy ran past her and leapt at the fence. He climbed over, dropped down to the other side. Beyond the fence was an alley, with more trash and old boxes piled up.

‘Andy, go. Get out of here. We’ll be okay, but you need to go. We can’t let anything happen to you,’ said Kate.

‘Go, baby. Get out of here,’ said Patricia, tears glinting on her face in the moonlight.

Andy looked at Kate. Then his mom. He turned and ran down the alley.

Kate breathed out, put an arm around Patricia and looked back at the hotel. It was an old wooden building, and it would fall like a house of matches.

The fence was too high for her to climb. And even if she could get over it, which she doubted, she wasn’t going to leave Patricia.

‘Go on, you too. I’ll be okay,’ said Patricia.