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The sound of the door unlocking leads me to reaching for the nearest bottle of air freshener and arming it like pepper spray during my cross back to the only point of entry. My captor barely manages to get the door open before I’m squeezing the trigger, sending a floral scented stream straight into his eyes and open mouth.

“Ahhhhhhrrrggg!!!!” is attached to furious body flailing that makes it impossible to scoot around.

Shit!

Why did he have to go all parking lot Weeble Wobble on me?!

“Youbitch!” he coughs in my general direction prompting me to release another round in his face.

This one has him stumbling slightly off to the side creating a small gap for me to get through, yet when I attempt, my arm brushes against his, just enough to alert him to where I am. Instantly, he grabs my wrist and swings me into the doorframe causing my face to collide with the hard surface. Unspeakable pain spreads through the middle of my forehead from the initial impact and being flung in the opposite direction like an empty backpack, results in additional inconceivable agony that drops me to the floor, can sent flying elsewhere.

Blurred vision doesn’t assist in my escape; however, I refuse to let it deter me.

I have to keep going!

I have to get the fuck out of here!

Hastily scrambling to get upright is stopped by the kidnapper grabbing my ankle to drag me back into the temporary prison. “Get your ass back here, you little cunt!”

Between clawing at the ground being futile and having nothing to grab onto other than the doorframe, I force myself to ignore the blood, sweat combo dripping down my nose, roll over, and propel my free foot forward with all the strength possible, nailing him square in the chest. He immediately relinquishes his hold, leaving me to once more attempt to scurry elsewhere, except I can’t.

I can’t seem to get up.

I can’t seem to get the ground to stop wobbling.

I can’t steady my hands.

Or my feet.

And I need to steady those.

I have to!

It’s the only way to escape!

But the crimson stream I’m scooting through is somehow simultaneously increasing as the view of everything else is decreasing indicating that I won’t.

I can’t.

This is it.

This is where I die.

Chapter 26

Hogan

“Dock”

“You’re fucking sure?!” I shout into the phone that Flames is still toting in the hand not holding his weapon. “You have to be fucking sure, Dive!”

“Tone,” snips our resident hacker at the same time he digitally unlocks the doors to the main building. “Superrrrrrr unfucking helpful, brah.”

“Where exactly are we headed?” Bones asks, watching our six.

“Take your third left,” we’re instructed during our steady jog through the empty school. “There should be a set of double doors directly across from the cafeteria that’ll give you the closest access to maintenance hall.”

Passing by portraits and plaques of the academy’s important people – like the founders and current administrators – pushes bile up the back of my throat.