Brad Meltzer - The Zero Game

I kick the window frame as hard as I can. The glass shatters, but the frame holds. Pulling some glass out to get a good handhold, I yank as hard as I can. I can hear the pounding of Janos’s feet up on the catwalk.

“Pull harder!” Viv yells.

The wood splinters in my hands, and the window flies open, swinging toward me. The pounding’s getting closer.

“Go…” I say, helping Viv slide inside. I’m right behind her, landing hard as I hit the gray-carpeted floor. I’m in someone’s office.

A stocky coworker comes rushing to the door. “You can’t be in here-”

Viv shoves him aside, and I fall in right behind her. As a page, Viv knows the inside of this place as well as anyone. And the way she’s running — sharp turns without a pause — she’s not trailing anymore. She’s leading.

We cut through the main welcoming area of the Senate curator’s office and fly down a curving narrow staircase that echoes as we run. Trying to stay out of sight, we jump down the last three steps and duck out on the third floor of the Capitol. The closed door in front of us is marked Senate Chaplain . Not a bad place to hide. Viv tries the doorknob.

“It’s locked,” she says.

“So much for your prayers.”

“Don’t say that,” she scolds.

There’s a loud thud from above. We both look up just in time to see Janos at the top of the staircase. The left side of his face is bright red, but he never says a word.

Viv jackrabbits to her left, up the hallway and toward another flight of stairs. I head for the elevator, which is a bit further, just around the corner.

“Elevator’s faster…” I tell her.

“Only if it’s-”

I hit the call button and hear a high-pitched ping. Viv quickly catches up. As the doors slide open, we hear Janos lumbering down the stairs. Shoving Viv in the elevator, I follow her inside, frantically trying to pull the door shut.

Viv jabs wildly at the Door Close button. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…”

I wedge my fingers in the door’s metal molding and pull as hard as I can, trying to tug the door shut. Viv ducks under me and does the same. Janos is a few feet away. I see the tips of his outstretched fingers.

“Get ready to pull the alarm!” I shout at Viv.

Janos lunges forward, and our eyes lock. He jabs his hand toward us just as the door clicks, thunks, and slides shut.

The elevator rumbles downward, and I can barely catch my breath.

“My… my hand…” Viv whispers, picking something from her palm, which is bright red with blood. She pulls out a piece of glass from one of the broken windows.

“You okay?” I ask, reaching out.

Focused on her palm, she doesn’t answer. I’m not even sure she hears the question. Her hand shakes uncontrollably as she stares down at the blood. She’s in shock. But she’s still sharp enough to know she’s got far more important things to worry about. She grips her wrist to stop the shaking. “Why’s the FBI chasing you?” she asks, her voice cracking.

“He’s not FBI.”

“Then who the hell is he?”

This isn’t the time for an answer. “Just get ready to run,” I tell her.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You think he’s not sprinting down the stairs right now?”

She shakes her head, trying to look confident, but I can hear the panic in her voice. “It’s not a continuous staircase — he’ll have to stop and cross the hallway at two of the landings.”

“Only at one,” I correct her.

“Yeah, but… he still has to stop at each floor to make sure we didn’t get out.” She’s trying hard to convince herself, but even she’s not buying it. “There’s no way he’ll beat us down… right?”

The elevator bobs to a stop in the basement, and the door slowly slides open. Sprinting out, I barely get two steps before I hear a loud click-clack on the metal treads of the staircase that rises directly in front of us. I crane my neck up just in time to see Janos whipping around the corner of the top step. He’s still silent, but the smallest of grins spreads across his lips.

Son of a bitch.

Viv takes off to the left, and I’m again right behind her. Janos storms down the stairs. We’ve got nothing more than a thirty-step head start. Viv makes a sharp left so we’re not in his direct line of sight, then a quick right. Down here, the basement’s got low ceilings and narrow halls. We’re like rats in a maze, twisting and turning as the cat licks his chops behind us.

Dead ahead, the long hallway widens. At the end, a bright shot of sunlight glows through the glass in the double doors. There’s our way out. The west exit — the door the President uses as he steps out for his inauguration. From here, it’s a straight shot.

Viv looks back for a half second. “You know what’s…”

I nod. She understands.

Pouring on the speed, Viv clenches her fists and heads for the light. A few drops of blood drip to the floor.

Behind us, Janos is galloping like a racehorse, slowly closing the gap. I can hear him breathing — the closer he gets, the louder it grows. We all dig in hard, and the pounding of our shoes echoes through the hallway. I’m neck and neck with Viv, who’s slowly losing steam. She’s now a half step behind. C’mon, Viv.. . Only a few feet to go. I study her face. Wide eyes. Mouth open. I’ve seen that look on people at mile twenty-five in the marathon. She’s not gonna make it. Sensing her pain, Janos shifts a bit to the left. Right behind Viv. He’s so close, I can almost smell him. “Viv…!” I shout.

Janos reaches out, raising his hand for the final grab. He lunges forward. The door’s straight ahead. But just as he swipes down, I grip Viv’s shoulder and make a sharp right, whipping us both around the corner, away from the door.

Janos skids across the polished floor, struggling to follow us through the turn. It’s too late. By the time he’s back in pursuit, Viv and I shove our way through a set of black vinyl double doors that look like they lead to a restaurant kitchen.

But as the doors swing shut, we find fourteen armed policemen milling around the hallway. The office on our right is the internal headquarters of the Capitol Police.

Viv’s already got her mouth open. “There’s a guy back there who’s trying to-”

I shoot her a look, shaking my head. If she blows the whistle on Janos, he’ll blow the whistle on me — and right now, I can’t afford to be taken in. From the confused look on her face, Viv doesn’t understand, but it’s still enough to let me take the lead.

“There’s a guy back there who’s muttering to himself,” I say to the three nearest officers. “He started following us for no reason, saying we were the enemy.”

“I think he snuck off his tour,” Viv adds, knowing just how to rile these guys. Pointing to the ID badge around her neck, she says, “He doesn’t have an ID.”

Janos shoves open the black vinyl doors. Three Capitol policemen move in.

“Can I help you with something?” one of them asks. He’s unimpressed with the FBI windbreaker, which he knows can be bought in the gift shop.

Before Janos can even make up a lame excuse, Viv and I continue further up the hallway that’s spread out in front of us.

“Stop them!” Janos shouts, taking off after us.

The first officer grabs him by the windbreaker, pulling him back.

“What’re you doing?” Janos roars.

“My job,” the officer says. “Now let’s see some ID.”

Twisting and turning back through the maze of the basement, we eventually push our way outside on the east front of the Capitol. The sun’s already passed to the other side of the building, but darkness is still an hour or so away. Hurtling past the groups of tourists taking pictures in front of the dome, we race toward First Street, hoping the Capitol Police give us enough of a head start. The white marble pillars of the Supreme Court are directly across the street, but I’m too busy looking for a cab.