Page 184 of Vying Girls
I follow Damien’s movements, the phone held out in front of us.
‘Nearly,’ he mutters.
When he finally punches in his security details correctly, I widen my eyes at Nic.
Placing her fist against the side of her thigh, she raises first her thumb.One…
My blood pumping, heart racing, she’s on the cusp of raising her third finger when Damien finally says, ‘What the fuck, Nicole? Says you’ve only sent—’
There’s no time to drop when the chamber suddenly fills up with red smoke, from out of it flying a muscular, dusky figure.
For a moment, the three of us are frozen, then Nic reaches out to grab me. I slip from Damien’s grip, my roll on the floordislodging both of their holds. On the ground, I spot my bag and unthinkingly scoop it up.
‘Tilda!’ I hear Haz shout.
I can’t see her or Nic anymore, just Damien kicking the smoke bomb away as he wildly looks around. His eyes meet mine the second I find my homemade pepper spray. On instinct, I raise it, the same time he raises the gun, and spray.
‘Fuck,’ he gasps, both hands flying to his eyes.
I should run but something makes me pause, my hands grappling for the gun. He stumbles, trying to swat me off him as he continues to rub his eyes. I smash his nose with the bottom of the spray bottle and he finally relinquishes it.
Then I turn and run, arms out as I desperately try and find the exit.
I don’t know which way they went. I don’t know which way is out.
More smoke bombs have been let off, the colours muted in the dim of Damien’s fading torchlight.
‘Tilda!’
I run towards the voice, Elly’s I think, my hands too full to find my phone. Shoving the spray back into my bag, I rifle around. I pass more chambers, their dark arches tempting me. I keep to the tunnels, unsure if I’m heading out or further in.
I hear running behind me.
Damien or the others?
I turn a corner, speeding up.
Shit, am I even going the right way? The thought of losing myself deeper in this death labyrinth makes me want to stop and reorient.
It’s still full of smoke though, a sure sign they’ve been here.
My hand is slick on the gun, the metal warm. My finger keeps slipping on the trigger, my body giving an internal shudder every time. I secure them around the handle instead. I don’tknow guns, don’t trust them. I’m just aware that it’s loaded and primed to kill.
My phone light bounces off the smoke. It makes me cough, so thick I can barely see through it.
Badly lost and out of breath, I pause momentarily in one of the chambers. My breathing’s too loud, my heart sounding like it’s in my head. I tighten my grip on the gun, listening closely.
The footsteps are getting closer. I tense, ducking further around the corner. A shadow fills my vision, a body glancing off mine. Then a hard shove brings me to my knees, a gasp forced from my lungs.
I scramble back up, gun out in front of me.
Nic stares back wide eyes.
‘Tilda,’ she breathes, before falling into my arms.
She cradles the back of my head with a palm, chest rising and falling quickly against mine. Holding her back, I keep my eye on the archway, so aware of the gun in my grip.
Pulling back, she cups my cheeks. She doesn’t say anything, looking at me with those dark, fierce eyes before glancing back over her shoulder.
