Lies(21)

Forget about my nerves; this situation has my whole body highly strung.

“Got to go,” says Thom, pulling a shirt over his head. “But we should talk about this some more later. Honest and open communication is important, right? Or at least, that’s what they write in all those books on relationships.”

“You want open and honest communication?” I bite out. “I trusted you with my body before and you let me down in more ways than I can count. I tried to love you and you hurt me.”

He blinks.

“That’s not happening again. So do not play with me. Is that understood?”

For a moment, he just stops. No motion or anything. The man is a statue. Then slowly he nods. “Understood. I’m sorry, Betty.”

“You know, you keep saying that.” I sniffle in as dignified a fashion as possible. “But I’m still not even sure you know what it means.”

“I’m learning.”

Once he’s gone, I slump back on the bed in relief. Maybe I should just let our unknown nemesis kill me. Blow me to smithereens. Because, honestly, this is the worst breakup of a nonexistent relationship ever.




A wailing alarm wakes me at some horrible hour the next morning. The noise is deafening. Red light fills the room, and the bedroom door is thrown open a moment later. Thom rushes in, throwing back the bedcovers and grabbing my arm.

“On your feet,” he yells, just as the siren shuts off. “Move, Betty.”

I shake off the sleep, bare feet touching down on the cold floor. “What’s going on?”

His face is all business. “Someone’s on the mountain. We’ve got to go.”

“What? Someone’s found us?”

“Looks that way.”

Mind reeling, I crouch down beside my duffel bag. Quickly, I grab a pair of jeans, another T-shirt. What does one wear when they’re on the run? Thom is wearing sturdy hiking boots, jeans, and a flannel. All very practical.

“Just put your shoes on,” says Thom, stuffing the clothes back into the bag. “We don’t have time for you to get dressed.”

“Okay.” My butt hits the mattress and on go the boots, over my thermal pajama pants. They have unicorns with laser eyes printed on them and are quite possibly the coolest thing I’ve ever owned. Not all of the sleepwear Crow bought is sexy. Thankfully. Though if I die in this ensemble, I just might haunt his ass.

I get to my feet, hauling the strap of the bag over my shoulder. No one is separating me from my stuff again—small amount that I have.

Thom gives the duffel a look, lips tight. “You’re going to have to leave it. We don’t have time to check for trackers or any such shit in there.”

“You said you trusted Crow.”

“Betty, we don’t have time for this.”

It sucks, but I do as told, setting the duffel bag down. He takes my hand and leads me out into the hallway. The red light gives everything a weird postapocalyptic vibe. And instead of heading toward Henry’s work area, we turn left, deeper into the subterranean complex.

“Where are we going?” I ask, half-running, trying to keep up with the man.

“Away from here.”

Like this tells me anything.

“Plan B,” he says. “You’ll have to come with me for the time being.”

Out of the gloom, Henry dashes toward us, breathing heavily. “You’re all set. Don’t stray from the path. It’d be a shame if you got your asses blown to pieces.”

“Thank you,” says Thom. He has a gun in his other hand now.

Henry just tips his chin, turning to me. “Later, Betty. Keep your head down, okay?”

“Okay.” My voice hardly quavers at all. “Thanks.”

Then he’s gone, moving past us. Thom leads me farther down the shadowy hall. It seems to go on forever.

“What’s he going to do?” I ask, out of breath now too.

“Henry takes uninvited guests pretty seriously. He’s got this mountain rigged with all sorts of shit. He’ll probably just sit in front of a screen and watch ’em burn.” Thom gives me a smile full of sharp teeth. “Or, if he’s feeling frisky, he’ll go out and have some fun with a sniper rifle.”

“If this place is safe then why don’t we stay put and wait them out?”

“Because I can’t afford to be on lockdown in the bunker for days on end,” he says. “As for you, I don’t like how fast they found us and I don’t know the extent of their resources. How much they’re willing to throw at this. Might only be a one in a thousand chance they breach the place, but I’m not risking it. Until I know more, you’re safer with me.”

“All right. Makes sense. So you think Henry’s going to kill them?”

Thom squeezes my hand. “Whoever these people are, they’re not our friends. Friends don’t sneak up on you wearing tactical gear, bulletproof vests, and carrying Uzis, while moving in an attack formation.”

“How did they find us?”

“Good question. I’m still figuring that bit out.”

Eventually, the hallway loses all pretense of sophistication and turns into more of a tunnel. Intermittent lights cast a scarlet glow from the sides of the walls and we duck our heads so we don’t hit the ceiling. At the end, a steel ladder leads up to a generous-size hole.