Page 22 of No Way Back
Part of me is drenched with worry, fearful and anxious about leaving her alone and unprotected with real criminals running loose. The other part of me worries forthem. I run, one foot after the other, chasing after the loud racket the Danvers kid leaves behind him. How he hasn’t gotten merked by one of the prisoners yet is beyond me. My boots squeak below me, bloody footprints following on the ground.
He must have realized he couldn’t get out from the entrance and tried to make his way back up through the stairwell. I step down to the dungeon with both feet at once, pulling my chainsaw from my back and switching the safety off. I press the throttle, lifting the saw into the air and revving the motor for sheer theatrics.
The kid is hiding in a corner somewhere, probably biting his nails. Taking large strides, I walk through the basement of the prison, passing by dozens of open solitary confinement cells, but there’s no sight of Kyle Danvers.
I take a different approach, shutting off the motor of the chainsaw and throwing it behind me again. I step into an open cell, the wall-to-wall brick surrounding me, nothing but a narrow little window along the top for fresh air not even bigenough to stick a hand through. It’s hauntingly quiet, so I wait. A minute passes, but there are still no sounds, no footsteps, nothing that says he’s coming out of hiding.
A breeze brushes past my neck. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but I know I’m alone in this cell, so I don’t dare turn around. Stepping out, I bring my hand to my mouth and amplify my voice. “Danvers,” I call out into the dark hall.
No response.
I try again. “Danvers.”
The sound of rubber sneakers against the concrete are low in the distance. “Kyle.”
“Professor?” His voice is shaky and filled with fright.
This is going to be easier than I thought. “Are you alright?” I feign concern.
I just need to keep him in my sights until she’s here.
Then, it’s up to her.
“Oh shit, fuck! Thank God it’s you. There was some psycho with a chainsaw chasing me!” His squealing sneakers get louder as he runs my way.
I can’t help but smile.
I despised Kyle Danvers when he was in my classes, and I hate him doubly now. He stumbles into me, chest-to-chest, bouncing off me and falling back on the ground. “Fuck,” a pained shout leaves him.
There’s a piece of me that says I should stick my hand out and help him up, but I don’t. By the time he’s standing in front of me again, I can hear the soft tapping of her boots against the concrete, and within a few seconds, she’s at my back.
“Found him,” I toss behind my shoulders.
“Naya?” he asks, his voice full of concern.
“Nope.” Camila pops the P, still hiding behind me.
“Mila!” He exhales in relief. “I-I lost Naya. Have you seen her?”
“Nope.” She does it again.
He takes a step back. I can’t gauge his mood—it’s too dark to see his expression—but I sense he’s suspicious.
“W-where have you guys been?” His voice is shaky.
I take a slow step forward as Camila laces her tone in her sweet voice. “In the stairwell.”
“D-doing what?” He puts distance between us, stepping back to where I can no longer find him in the shadows.
“Your mom.” She bursts out laughing.
Kyle takes off running into the depths of the dungeon, but there’s only more solitary confinement and the old warden’s torture dungeon. There’s no way out of here for him. Camila takes off running past me, cackling like a madwoman while taunting him. “Come back, bestie!”
One leisurely step after another, I follow, listening for the sound of her deranged laughter echoing in the distance to guide me forward.Sheis my compass, and her needle always points to hell.
By the time I get to The Death Warden’s torture chamber, she has already cornered him. The glow of the battery-operated prop lanterns is the only thing in this whole prison providing any sort of illumination, the better to see the terrified look on his face. “M-Mila.” He uses her nickname like he has any right to it.
Chainsaw already in front of me again, I rev it, just in case he hasn’t taken the hint yet.
