Something Strange and Deadly (Something Strange and Deadly #1)(64)

For a moment the world around me vanished. I only heard my heart and my breath. I only saw the jittery glowworms. Then the world resumed, and I latched on to reality before insanity could paralyze me anymore.

I did as Daniel had ordered, and I hoisted a sack on my back. I tried for the second, but it was too much. Twenty sticks would have to do.

I crept through the hut. My toes were numb from the pinching boots, and one of the blisters had popped and now burned.

Once at the door, I pressed my ear to it and strove to catch any movement or sound. Nothing came but the faintest patter of rain.

I could do this. Daniel needed me. The Spirit-Hunters needed me.

Cracking the door, I peeked outside. No one! So I ran silently, through the rain and up the hill. I didn’t pause, look, or think. I just ran.

When I reached the wagons, I skidded behind and peered out at the three buildings on the river. Where would the guards be? Was Daniel still alive?

I couldn’t leave him. Yes, it was my job to get the dy***ite to Joseph, but it was also my fault Daniel had been caught. I was the only person who could save him, and he would die if I left him here.

In the space of a breath I made a decision. I did not consider it as carefully as I should have—I didn’t consider it at all, really. I was giddy with a sense of invincibility. It ran through my arms and legs.

This is a dangerous place. A dangerous place means an alarm. An alarm is something I can sound. An alarm will draw the guards away.

I hid the sack and glowworms beneath one of the wagons and then watched the huts. No one appeared. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, I raced back down the slope. I went to the middle hut, but the door was locked. The rain picked up speed and intensity, and as I scooted along the outside wall, it filled my ears and sank into my clothes. It also masked the sound of my footsteps, and this time I was careful not to leave tracks.

At the back of the building I tipped my head around the corner. Nothing. I bolted to the next hut. The closer I got, the more a caustic reek burned in my nose. Hadn’t Daniel said this was the nitroglycerin hut? A pipe the width of a man and at least twenty feet long spanned from the hut to the river, and I knelt beside it.

For several seconds I waited, allowing my ears to adjust to the raindrops on the river and my nose to accept the sharp nitroglycerin scent. There had to be an alarm in this building—anything as explosive as Daniel had described would have some warning system.

A door groaned nearby, and I slung myself beneath the pipe.

Please don’t let anyone look my way.

Three sets of red feet with a fourth set—brown and stumbling—passed by me. I bit my tongue and fought to keep my breathing under control.

“In the river,” said the whiny man. His voice was muted, and I risked a glance out. The man had a rag pressed to his nose. Daniel must have gotten in a good punch.

“Come on then,” said a gruff voice. “Don’t make us club ya first. Drowning is so much more fun ta watch.”

Drowning? I had to act now.

I rolled out from under the pipe and darted toward the door—or at least where I had heard the groaning sound of a door. It was at the center of the building, and once I reached it, I gave a quick look—the men hadn’t seen me—before pushing inside.

My hands shook as I moved within, but I kept them aloft and defensive. The room was longer than sixty feet in either direction and lined with chest-high vats. It was like the Centennial Brewery; but rather than the yeasty, sweet scent of beer, my nostrils were overwhelmed with the burn of acid.

My breathing seemed loud and harsh, and the single light that hung in the center of the room hurt my eyes. But I prowled onward, seeing no one and hearing nothing but the gentle whir of pumps. My eyes watered from the sting of nitroglycerin, and I pulled my shirt collar up over my nose. A glance at the door for guards showed it was still shut. That was when I glimpsed the alarm.

It was a large bell with a handle for turning, like any fire alarm. It hung over the door, and it was too high up for me. Blast it!

I sniffed and wiped my eyes. A stool was beside the nearest vat, so I scooted to it. It was heavy, meant to stay in one place, and as I lugged it backward, it scratched and moaned across the ground.

Until my back hit something. I whirled around to find the glowing scarlet of a guard. The door was wide-open, and a shadowy face leered down at me. Before I could react, he grabbed me by the collar and shouted, “There’s another.”

The man hauled me from the building to the river with no effort.

“Look! It’s a girl.” He snatched the cap off my head and then kicked me toward the other men. I tumbled to the muddy ground.

I dragged my eyes to Daniel. His hands were bound, and a gag was stuffed in his mouth. Though one of his eyes was almost swollen shut, hurt and fury still burned bright in his gaze.

The gruff man yanked me back to my feet, and the guard with the rag against his nose sauntered toward me.

“You’re a bit fleshy, ain’t ya?” He licked his lips. “That’s good. I like ’em fleshy.” He thrust at me. I flinched, and the three guards guffawed.

“Well,” the whiny one continued, tossing his bloody rag aside. “Fleshy or not, a knife will go in ya all the same.” He leaned close to me. The bones of his face were sharp, half his teeth were missing, and he had the sallow skin of a consumptive. “Got any weapons, darlin’?”