Page 137 of Shroom for Improvement

Bingo.

One part was a shiny silver key with a black handle, and the other part was a diamond-shaped, blue plastic key fob which in silver lettering saidMONSTER RENTALSwith a telephone number.

For once, accidentally pickpocketing someone had actually done some good.

I stood on the toilet, one foot on either side of the seat, and poked at the panels on the ceiling. All solid metal. Upon pushing the panel up and peering into the void, I saw a space with height clearance of only a few inches at most. Fuck. No going up through the ceiling then.

I tapped the panels besides the pipes leading from the toilet. Also solid and unyielding. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What was I going to do? How much of my two minutes was this eating into? I ran my hand along the wall, looking for any weaknesses. If worse came to worst, I could try smashing through to the outside... but Jasper, with his mythic ears, would undoubtedly hear, and I’d have a head start of a second or two at most.

I was out of options and almost out of time. In desperate panic mode, I took the compass from my pocket and clicked the dial once. The text flipped fromMend a broken heartto—

Escape from a mouldy, rat-infested, truck-stop bathroom.

The needle pointed towards the sink.

I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle my triumphant yell.

And I saw it. Like a heavenly beam of light. I could practically hear the angels singing.

A crack—at its widest point only a few millimetres. I wouldn’t have noticed it had I not been standing at this super weird angle by the toilet bowl.

But there it was, in the wall, next to the mirror hanging above the sink. And daylight, actual daylight, spilled through. I dug my fingernails under the mirror. Not glass, cheapy plastic which was even better, but the thing stayed fixed in place.

Shit, okay. Breathe, Sonny, you can do this.

“You should be washing your hands by now. Doesn’t take that long to have a piss,” came Jasper’s voice through the door.

The mirror was about forty-five-centimetres tall, and thirty wide, and fixed to the wall by two screws. One at the top in the centre and one at the bottom. I dug around in my pockets, but the closest thing I found to any kind of screwdriver or tool was the flat edge on the plastic diamond key fob. It slotted perfectly into the groove of the screw, like it had been made to measure, and I worked the bottom one as quickly as I could.

It loosened and fell into the sink with an echoing clang. I winced, then pushed the mirror across to see what lay beyond. I was rewarded with a magnificent, obstruction-free passage to the rear side of the garage’s lot. I glimpsed a distant septic tank, and silos of... whatever, and trees. Wonderful, beautiful trees.

Jasper banged on the door. “If I don’t hear that flush within five seconds, I’m coming in.”

I squeaked. “I’ve just finished.” I didn’t say what I’d just finished. “I should wash my hands now.” I had to add theshouldto make it true. Then I flushed the toilet and climbed up onto the side of the bowl again.

With one hand, I pushed the mirror aside. Thankfully, the hole was only a single brick deep and then it dropped away to nothing but fresh air and wilderness.

I had to twist on my side to fit my shoulders through and brace my leg against the opposite wall.

And I thanked the gods that for all of my futile attempts, I had never been able to bulk up in the same way Mash had.

The bare brick scraped against the exposed skin on my forearms like sandpaper, and I was pretty sure I’d left a few decent chunks of flesh along the jagged mortar. But I was fae, I’d heal quickly. My biggest worry was just getting the fuck out of there.

I fell with a crunch onto my extended arm and shoulder, and hit the slabs outside what was probably once a window, but had perhaps since broken and been covered up with a flimsy, cost-effective mirror. I pushed to my feet as fast as I could, and I ran.

I ran in the direction I assumed the truck was parked in. How long would it take Jasper to smash down that door? How long would it take him to spot the screw in the sink, or the light coming from behind the mirror?

As I crested the hill, I saw the truck ahead of me.

And I heard Jasper behind me.

“SONNY!” His voice was so loud, it reverberated through the ground, through the trees lining either side of the road, and seemingly through the distant mountains. Every alarm on every car in the garage’s carpark began wailing.

I reached the truck and threw myself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind me.

“SONNY!” he roared again.

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