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And no snake she knew of smelled like overripe gym shoes.
“Fuck; gas.”
She glanced at him sharply. “What?”
“That noise—it’s some kind of gas being pumped into the room.” He grabbed the wristcom and disks, and then scrambled to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.”
She didn’t argue. Gas leaking into a room was never good. Gas leaking at a time when they’d be using the com-unit and normally not notice could only be a trap. The bedroom door slid open. Vapor hissed into the main room, thicker and more noxious than in the bedroom. She held her breath and ran for the front door, only to see it slide shut. The locks clicked firmly into place, a sound that ricocheted across the hissing, as sharp as death.
Trapping them like rats in a prison.
“IT HASN’T BEEN HALF AN hour yet, has it?” Sam pulled uselessly at the handle, and then got out the key-coder Jack had given her.
“No.”
The key-coder flashed red. It couldn’t break the lock. She slapped the door in frustration and turned, watching a puff of pale yellow vapor creep foglike across the carpet. “I think we’d better contact reception and see if she can open the door again. And fast.”
He already had his cell phone out. “No answer,” he said after a moment. “Any idea what’s behind door two?”
The vapor began to catch at her throat. Fighting the desire to cough, she tried to breathe as shallowly as possible. “Bathroom, maybe?”
“Maybe. Come on.” He touched her arm, guiding her across the room.
The vapor was thicker near the doorway. It tore at her throat and seeped down to her lungs, burning like fire. Dizziness swept through her, and for an instant, everything blurred. Only Gabriel’s light touch kept her upright,
kept her moving.
The second door swept open. He pushed her through, and then slapped a hand against the control on the wall. The door shut, momentarily locking the vapor out. She took several deep breaths, then bent over and coughed long and hard.
“You okay?”
His hand touched her back, its warmth contrasting starkly with the ice creeping over her skin. She nodded and straightened. His eyes were red-rimmed and watering, and his face was the color of milk.
She looked around, noting the shower and washbasin. “It is a bathroom.”
“And service room, by the look of it.” He handed her the disks and wristcom, then stepped past her and pressed a button on the wall. The response was the soft hum of machinery. “Service lift. And this …” He tapped a circular panel on the wall. A small door gently rocked. “… would be the laundry chute.”
She wiped the tears away from her eyes. Vapor was beginning to seep under the door, curling like yellow strands of rope round her feet. “Neither of which will help us get out of here.”
A bell chimed softly. He pressed another button and a door slid open, revealing a three-foot-square elevator. He glanced at her.
She swallowed heavily. He surely couldn’t mean for them to climb in there. It looked too small for one, let alone two. A shudder ran through her. Too small and far too enclosed. “The two of us won’t fit in there.”
“I could in hawk form, but one of us has to stay behind to close the door and send it down. Get in.”
She didn’t move. Couldn’t move. “What about you?”
“I’ll use the laundry chute. Come on—the vapor’s getting thicker.”
The yellow strings were beginning to wind their way up her legs. Legs that didn’t want to move.
She licked her lips, and then edged forward. The closer she got, the smaller the space looked.
“Isn’t there another way to get out of this place?” she asked, balking at the last moment. She knew the question was inane, that she was only delaying the inevitable. But once she climbed into that lift, and the door closed, there would be only darkness and fear.
“You know there’s not.” He hesitated, coughing. “Get in. I’ll meet you down at the bottom.”
She wet her lips again, and then slowly climbed in. The metal seemed to weigh down on her, as heavy as the gathering darkness and colder than her skin.
