Page 93 of Love at First Sighting
Well, I didn’t seethatcoming, but why not throw another calamity on top of this day?
I mean, at least he likes me enough to not murder me here and now, but he will leave me for dead chained to a radiator.
He doesn’t say another word before storming out of the office and heading for the bunker. Heading forEl. Fuck. Fucking hell. I need to get myself out of here and get to her. I glance down at my shirt. This is bad. This isreallybad. I’m beginning to feel light-headed, and I taste blood in the back of my throat.
I slide a hand into one pants pocket and find lint. But when I reach into the other, I hit gold. Well, not gold, but a bobby pin.
There, I hear El say.For the next time you get stuck in handcuffs.
All I know is I am so fucking glad I wore these particular pants today.
Chapter 29
El
The bunker door opens with a harsh mechanical click and a puff of stale air. I turn the latch on the steel door and slink inside. Carter shut the stairwell door behind me, so I can’t hear anything happening up above, but if he got this door open for me, he has to be on his way back now.
I fumble forward and find a chain hanging above me, and I yank, turning on a dusty, flickering lightbulb.
The bunker is large enough to hold ten to fifteen PIS agents, should the worst Cold War–era fears come to pass. There are several sets of bunk beds on each side and a few rows of filing cabinets and storage shelves lining the center. The shelves contain everything from file boxes to canned goods that cannot be safe to eat anymore. There are extra sets of clothes, some rusted guns, and some medicine stacked as well.
It smells like mothballs, cold concrete, and metal in here. I take careful, calculated steps toward the shelves and start my search. My plan is to grab the file and run, find Carter, and get us the hell out of here.
I find cases of expired iodine pills, fallout safety manuals, and old documents stamped with dates back in the fifties.Carter wasn’t kidding when he said PIS had one foot in the Stone Age. I spot a stack of white books along the back wall. They’re all the same size, but the pages are gradually yellowing more the farther I go back in time. As I approach, I find exactly what I’m looking for.
PIS Code of Conduct
“Thank god.” I reach the shelf of books and skim the faded years on the side. I migrate closer to the present time. The 1995 edition is thicker than the others.
I flip the flimsy book open to the right page and find a manila folder wedged between the vacation and sick leave policies.
Brody, Johnthe tab reads.
Before I look inside, the door pops open with a rush of air and a sharp scratch of steel on concrete.
“Carter?” I call out.
No response.
And then I hear the click of dress shoes.
I’m not alone, and if Carter isn’t the one coming after me, someone else is. I duck behind one of the shelves and pull my knees to my chest. There are enough shadows down here that I can use them to my advantage.
I’ve never been scared of the dark, but the fear that someone must have taken down the Carter-shaped barrier between me and danger is debilitatingly scary. I pull out my key chain, sliding my alien-shaped key to Carter’s apartment between my knuckles.
Then the footsteps halt, and they feel so close, like someone is breathing down my neck. Hot, sinister breath that makes my hair stand on end. There’s a smell of smoke in the air.
I have a sneaking suspicion I know who is down here withme, and if I leave and don’t hold my own, Marcus is going to get away with all of this. I’m not sure if it’s a better idea to inch toward a corner and use the shadows as my best weapon or to face him head-on.
Whatever I do, I can’t show him I’m scared.
“I know you’re down here.” I recognize his voice from the hangar. Marcus. The silence between words feels like a roar. “We can make this easy, or we can make this hard. It’s all up to you.”
Marcus takes another step forward and his figure blocks out the light from above. He’s right next to where I’m huddled behind a shelf. I slide the backup file into my jacket and zip it up, keeping it covert and close to my body. I don’t think he can seeme, hidden in the shadows, but I have so few places to run. I spot a small crevice between shelves. I can fit in there and get a better angle on him. Maybe even find something to defend myself with.
Marcus and I stand in a silent, darkened stalemate for another few seconds before he lets out a frustrated huff and turns around. This is my chance.
I set my hand down as carefully as I can, only for a shard of glass from an old, broken jar to dig right into the palm of my hand as I begin to turn. I try to mute my gasp of pain, but Marcus’s footsteps halt immediately and he comes closer again. I could try to escape, but as Carter’s said—he isn’t expecting anyone to confront him.
