Page 179 of Vying Girls
Great. Psychoandon drugs.
I open my mouth. ‘What—?’
He grabs my hair, face close to mine as he yanks my head back.‘I—do not—give you permission—to talk.’
I squeeze my eyes shut, a whimper escaping me unfettered. His spit sits on my lips. Hot tears well behind my eyelids, the pounding in my head worsening to the point I really think I’m going to throw up.
I hear a scuff, prying open my stinging eyes to see him picking up a black cloth from an open bag on the floor.
I shake my head as he ties it around my face, followed by tape.
No, no.
I can’t breathe like this. It’s too close. My nose is too blocked. I’m going to throw up.
My breaths are loud and hot behind the cloth. I close my eyes to concentrate on slowing my breathing but that only seems to worsen it. I can’t breathe. I really, really can’t breathe.
I kick out, my tied legs achieving nothing more than making the chair shift an inch.
Damien glances my way. ‘No signal.’ He holds up a phone. ‘Let’s hope Nicole’s still good at orienteering.’
I cry out, the sound muffled and pathetic. Damien doesn’t look this time. He’s preoccupied with the contents of his bag. I scream louder, my vision dimming. I’m panicking. I’ve never felt panic like it. I’m going to die, suffocated by this gag.
I pull in a breath through my nose, hard as I can, but it’s not enough. My chest is heavy, burning, desperate for oxygen.
My struggle rouses Damien, who pauses then stands, eyes studying me intently.
My mind flickers, my eyesight blackening. Grey blobs kaleidoscope.
Damien chuckles, his silhouette wavering before my eyes.
‘Jesus, Nicole. What have you bagged yourself?’
Nic
The boat’s barely touched the shore before Haz stops it with her boot. The Charon watches warily. We’re not hiding the weapons, my blade and the two kitchen knives we filched from the closest dorm. It’s usually quiet this time of day, more so with Varsity going on on the other side of the woods. Charons probably thought they were in for a quiet shift, some easy money. Unfortunately for them, this is Hazelhurst. We don’t do quiet.
They don’t challenge Elly. They know better. They sit with their cloaked back to us, rowing steadily. Too steadily for Haz who faces the same way, pounding the tip of her knife into the wooden edge of the boat with such force it rocks like on a stormy sea.
‘Plan,’ she bites out.
I look at the dropped location, noting the bars at the top slowly trickling away. Once we’re underground, there’ll be no signal. No updates from Damien. Haz knows the labyrinth as much as I do. Me through The Order and her through her nocturnal explorations, some on which she brought Tilda. That’s one measly advantage I can see in this whole clusterfuck. Not that it’ll count for much. Damien was the fucking president. He’ll know every secret there is to know down there.
Of course, there’s no mapping of the labyrinth itself. No chambers or tunnels. I just know the closest entrance to them is via the Vaults.
I grit my teeth as I think. ‘There’re chambers. Tonnes of them by that entrance. I want us staggered. Haz a chamber behind me, Elly behind her.’ I raise my voice when Haz whips her headround to protest. ‘He said alone, Haz. Just stay behind me. You fuck this for Tilda, and I’ll murder you. Don’t underestimate Damien. He’s beyond fucked in the head.’
Haz glowers, so much running through her eyes. She doesn’t need to say anything. Bit rich coming from me, isn’t it, when all I’ve done is fuck things for Tilda. I snort at the sick irony of it all. I finally decide to get over myself and now it all might get whisked away.
‘I also need someone to watch for Blakely and Fina.’ If Tommy ever finds them, if they’re bothered to even get involved again. ‘I don’t want Damien alerted toanything.Not until I say.’
‘Again,’ Haz says. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘I don’t fucking know, Haz! Get in, get Tilda out. That’s all I’ve got.’
‘I think Nic might be right,’ Elly says tentatively. ‘This is basically a hostage situation. One wrong move and…’
I toss my head against the wind, refusing to consider theand.‘This is my shit, just let me deal.’
