Brad Meltzer - The Zero Game

She reads my panic easily but, unlike last time, doesn’t brush it off. “I didn’t see him that long… buzzed salt-and-pepper hair… I guess a creepy smile… and eyes that kinda, well… kinda look like a hound dog if that makes any sense…”

My throat locks up, and my eyes flash over to the door. More specifically, the doorknob. It’s unlocked.

I dart full speed at the door, ready to twist the lock shut. But just as I’m about to grab it, the door bursts toward me, slamming into my shoulder. Viv screams, and a thick hand slides through the crack.

The door’s barely open an inch, but Janos already has his hand inside. Viv’s still screaming, and I’m still moving. Lucky for me, momentum’s on my side.

My full weight collides with the door, pinching Janos’s fingers in the doorjamb. I expect him to yell as he yanks his hand free. He barely grunts. Viv also goes dead silent, and I look over to make sure she’s okay. She’s standing there, eyes closed and hands clasped around her ID. Praying.

As the door slams shut, I dive for the lock and click it into place. The door thunders as Janos rams himself against it. The hinges shudder. We’re not gonna last long.

“Window!” I say, turning back toward Viv, who finally looks up. She’s frozen in shock. Her eyes look like they’re about to explode. I grab her hand and twirl her toward the small window that’s high up on the wall. It’s got two panes that swing outward like shutters.

There’s another thunderclap against the door.

Viv turns and panics. “He’s-”

“Just go!” I shout, pulling one of the spare chairs toward the windowsill.

Hopping up on the chair, Viv can’t stop her hands from shaking as she tries to unhook the window latch.

“Hurry!” I beg as the door once again rumbles.

She pounds the windows, but they don’t move.

“Harder!” I tell her.

She hits them again. She’s not a small girl — the impact’s tremendous.

“I think they’re painted shut!”

“Here, let me-”

With the base of her palm, Viv gives it one final shove, and the left window pops open, swinging out toward the rooftop. Her hands lock on the windowsill, and I give her a boost up. There’s a loud bang against the front door. The lock buckles. Two screws look like they’re about to come loose.

Viv turns toward the sound.

“Don’t look!” I tell her.

She’s already halfway out the window. I grab her ankles and give her one final push.

Another screw flies from the lock and clinks against the floor. We’re out of time. I hop on the chair just as Viv crashes against the balcony outside. Behind me, I spot Matthew’s notebooks sitting on the nearby table. Janos is one good kick away. I’ll never make it…

I don’t care. I need that info. Leaping off the chair, I scramble back toward the desk, grab the Grayson section, and tear the pages from the three-ring binder.

The door flies open and crashes to the ground. I don’t even bother to look back. In one mad dash, I leap on the chair and dive toward the open window. My pelvis crashes against the windowsill, but it’s enough to get me through. Teetering forward, I tumble outside, blinded by the sun as I hit the floor of the balcony.

“Which way?” Viv asks, slamming the window shut as I climb to my feet.

Rolling up the stack of papers and shoving them in my front pocket, I grab Viv’s wrist and tug her to the left, along the three-foot-wide pathway just outside the window.

Overlooking the Washington Monument, we’re on the long balcony outside the Senate wing. Unlike the enormous Capitol dome, which rises up in front of us, the path on this side of the building is flat.

I glance over my shoulder just as the window bursts open behind us. The glass shatters as it swings into the white wall of the building. As Janos sticks his head out, it only makes us run harder. We’re moving so fast, the intricate marble railing on my right starts to blur. To my surprise, Viv’s already a few steps ahead of me.

The sun beats down, reflecting off the white railing so brightly, I have to squint to see. Good thing I know where I’m going. Up ahead, the pathway forks as we approach the base of the Capitol dome. We can go straight and follow the pathway, or make a sharp left into a nook around the corner. Last time we did this, Janos caught me off guard. This time, we’re on my turf.

“Left,” I say, yanking the shoulder of Viv’s suit. As I tug her around the corner, there’s a rusted metal staircase dead ahead. It leads up to a catwalk that’ll take us up to the roof, directly on top of the room we were just in. “Keep going,” I say, pointing her toward the stairs.

Viv keeps running. I stay where I am. By my feet, a trio of thin steel wires runs along the floor of the balcony, just outside the windows. During the winter, the maintenance division sends a small electric current through the wiring to melt the snow and prevent the ice from piling up. During the rest of the year, the wires just sit there, useless. Until now. Squatting down, I press my knuckles against the floor and grab the wires. As Janos runs, I hear his shoes pounding against the roof.

“He’s right around the corner!” Viv yells from her perch on the catwalk.

That’s what I’m counting on. Tugging up like I’m curling a barbell, I pull the wires as hard as I can. The staples that hold them in place pop through the air. The metal wiring goes taut, rising a few inches from the ground. Perfect ankle height.

Just as Janos turns the corner, his legs slam into the wiring. At his speed, the thin metal slices into his shins. For the first time, he yells out in pain. It’s not much more than a muted roar, but I’ll take it. Tumbling forward, he skids face first against the ground. The sound alone is worth it.

Before he can get up, I leap toward him, gripping him by the back of his head and pressing his face against the burning-hot green copper floor. As his cheek hits, he finally screams — a guttural rumble that vibrates against my chest. It’s like trying to pin a bull. Even as I grab the back of his neck, he’s already on his knees, climbing to his feet. Like a trapped panther, he lashes out, swiping a meaty paw at my face. I duck back, and his knuckles barely connect with a spot below my shoulder, just under my armpit. It doesn’t hurt — but as my entire right arm tingles and goes numb, I realize that’s where he was aiming all along.

“Harris, run!” Viv shouts from the catwalk.

She’s right about that. I can’t beat him one-on-one. I spin back toward Viv and sprint as fast as I can. My arm’s dead, flapping lifelessly at my side. Behind me, Janos is still on the ground, clawing at the wires. As I race toward the metal staircase that leads up to the roof, a half-dozen more staples pop through the air. He’ll be loose in seconds.

“C’mon!” Viv yells, standing on the edge of the top step and waving me up.

Using my good arm to hold the railing, I scutter up the stairs to the catwalk that zigzags across the roof. From here, with the dome at my back, the flat roof of the Senate wing is spread out in front of me. Most of it’s covered with air ducts, vents, a web of electrical wiring, and a handful of scattered rounded domes that rise like waist-high bubbles from the rooftop. Weaving through all of it, I follow the catwalk as it curves around the edge of the small dome that’s right in front of us.

“You sure you know where you’re-?”

“Here,” I say, cutting to the left, down an offshoot of metal stairs that takes us off the catwalk and back down to a different section of the balcony. Thank God neoclassical architecture is symmetrical. Along the wall on my left, there’s a corresponding window that’ll take us back into the building.