Page 120 of Death and Do-Overs

I couldnottrust him.

I shouldn’t concern myself with him at all. I had every right to run for it and save my own skin. What did I care if Otis was the person Levi cared about most in all the world?

If I stayed, if I tried, all I’d do was die alongside him.

I grunted my frustration.

Except…I didn’t have to choose myself or Otis. I could choose both.

I created another me, leaving the copy to see where the vents led. Then, because I was an idiot with a death wish who couldn’t leave well enough alone, I dropped back down onto the back of the bull-like monster who was ramming Otis. I wrapped my legsaround his middle and an arm around his neck, then I scratched at his eyes.

I shouldn’t care if Otis died. It served him right after he’d killed Nie.

But no matter how much I didn’t want to, I did care.

The bull howled in pain and backed up at a surprising pace. I held on and kept scratching.

Then my back smashed against the bent metal door.

Pain radiated all over my body. All of the air whooshed out of my lungs.

I knew I needed to hold on, but my grip slipped.

I fell to the ground.

Move or die.I had to move.

I rolled onto hands and knees and crawled toward the hall. My vision narrowed. I could hear my own ragged breathing, fear clawing at my thoughts. Just a little farther and I’d have a chance.

Thick fingers wrapped around my ankle, hard and fast.No.Please, no. The bull ripped me back into the closet.

Panicked, I reached for anything to grab onto. I caught the door frame in a jolt to every aching muscle.

Then I was released.

I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what was happening. I turned in time to see Otis beating the bull with the mop.

Out of nowhere, the blue-haired woman raced past me and bashed the bull in the back with a mace. The bull howled. The mace stuck in the hairy muscle just below his shoulder. The blue-haired woman pulled on the mace’s handle as the bull twisted and bashed her in the head with his fist.

Otis scrambled past them. He grabbed my wrist.

And we ran.

We ran away from the room where we’d woken, away from the closet where we’d hidden, through a maze of halls.

The sounds of battle faded completely, leaving only the sounds of our footsteps. The quiet should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. It only meant I could no longer hear the threats that were definitely still coming.

None of the doors off the hallways were locked, though each room appeared to be empty. Well, they were all empty until we found a barrel full of swords in one room, which looked like it belonged on the deck of a pirate ship.

I took one. So did Otis.

We walked quietly, cautiously, through dark hallways for what felt like hours without incident.

Were there cameras down here, like there were in the rest of Nevermore? Was The Competition the same as Bernadette’s “stories” that she’d been intent on watching? Was all of Nevermore watching us right now?

I couldn’t quiet my brain. Furthermore, the longer we walked side-by-side, the less often I thought to look at Otis to make sure he wasn’t going to suddenly change his mind and strike me down.

Otis had helped me, twice. He, like Nie, had been forced into this murder mayhem, and not by choice. Maybe he wasn’t lying about what happened between him and Nie.