Andrew Klavan - Empire of Lies

I don't know how long I went on like that. I remember I banged my shin at one point. At another point, I stumbled over something hard and staggered into nothingness a few terrifying steps before I regained my balance. Mostly, though, I just moved, slowly, blindly, my hands out in front of me, until the progression became dreamlike, until it seemed it would simply continue and continue and never end.

Then at last-at last, I began to see. Not much at first. Small lights here and there, lights I guess the killers couldn't disable. There was a green indicator on a machine of some sort and a red indicator not far from it. And there was another of those soft white fluorescents glowing somewhere around a corner out of sight. My eyes fed on these and began to pick out shapes. Large, looming structures all around me. There was nothing I could make sense of. The trace of grillework here, a clawing metallic arm arching overhead, a large clockwork of some sort with pendulums and pistons moving quietly but powerfully. I felt I had stepped into the heart of some great and terrible machine.

I stopped moving. I peered around me, disheartened, bewildered. Where the hell was I? What was I supposed to do now? How would I ever find the detonator in this dark? How would I ever find Serena?

The smell was dense here, dense as dense. My nostrils stung with it. My eyes teared. And the noises: guttural hums, periodic soughs, steady whirs of movement-they were louder, closer. I felt as if black mills and engines were hovering over me in the darkness, hovering almost hungrily, like living creatures, ravenous beasts. For a moment or two, in my tension and confusion, the sounds of them, their huge presence, that smell-it all nearly overwhelmed my senses.

And so, for a moment or two, I didn't hear those other, softer sounds nearby: the sound of something moving on the floor, the sound of a soft, struggling, breathless human voice.

Then I did hear it. I turned quickly, searching for it. I stepped blindly toward it. My foot touched something heavy and soft. I dropped to my knees, reaching out with my hands. I felt her. Yes, and I could see her now, too. I could make out the dim shadow of her. Struggling, tied. I put my hands on her arm.

"Serena!" I said, my voice breaking. "Serena. It's me. It's Jason."

She struggled harder, went on trying to speak even more urgently than before. I felt my way to her shoulder, to her face. I felt for the gag across her mouth. It was the same sort of duct-tape gag I'd used on Rashid. My heart was wild as I tried to get a purchase on it. I was wild with surprise and joy-and surging terror, too, because she was alive-which meant there was a chance I might save her-which meant there was a chance I might fail to save her, a chance she'd die under my hands.

My fingers found the edge of the duct tape. I worked it off her. I felt for the rag in her mouth. She was already trying to spit it out. I got the tip of it, worked it between her lips and pulled it free.

Serena gasped and coughed. She gulped air. I held her close to me, my eyes swimming. I felt her press her face against my neck. Then she pulled back. She looked up at me. I saw her eyes gleaming out of the dark.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it," she whispered fiercely. "I knew you'd come for me."

I tried to free her. I picked at the duct tape that bound her wrists behind her back.

"Don't," she croaked. "There's no time. Jamal already went upstairs. He has the button."

"Damn it!" I said. I couldn't get the tape off her. I couldn't find the end of it.

"Stop," she whined. "We have to go."

"Okay." I looked around at the vague and monstrous shadows. "We have to find the detonators."

"That's no good. They're all over. They go off if you touch them. There's a timer, too. It goes off no matter what. We have to get out."

I nodded once. She was right. I worked my hands under her. I took her into my arms and stood. She was small and light, nothing to carry. And I guess the adrenaline must've been pumping through me, too. I barely felt the weight of her.

As seconds passed, I stood there, holding her, looking around, disoriented. The looming, grinding machines-whatever they were-seemed to hem me in and bear down on me on every side. I couldn't see a way through them. I wasn't even sure which way I'd come.

"Go that way. That light," Serena said, lifting her chin toward it.

I found it. That pale fluorescent light around the corner, the one I'd noticed before. I moved toward it, maneuvering through the gothic silhouettes. Now I could make out the doorway. I maneuvered her through it. I came into a corridor. I saw the light. It hung above a door.

"Hurry," she said.

I carried her down the hall. The smell of her surrounded me. I could smell her fruity little-girl perfume and the cotton of her sweatshirt, clean and soft as a baby's pajamas. I could smell the urine where she'd wet herself and her sweat which carried the scent of her sex in it and the scent of her fear which was stronger than all the rest. In the pale light, I could see her frightened features, scrunched and shuddering. She was crying with terror. I felt an almost-crushing tenderness for her, something like what I'd felt for my children when they were babies in their cribs.

"We're gonna be all right," I told her.

"We're not," she whimpered. "He's already there. It'll happen any second. We're not gonna get out in time."

I set her down, one arm around her, so I could get a hand on the doorknob, open the door. I lifted her into my arms again and carried her into the stairwell.

I went up the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time, rising toward the brighter light above. I could feel now how unnaturally strong I was, how quickly my mind was working, outstripping time. I thought about what I would do when I got upstairs. Would I be able to save Serena and come back to try to clear the theater? No. I knew there was no time to do both. I had to choose. I either had to get her out or try to get everyone out. As I took that single flight to the upstairs door, whole worlds of tragedy flashed through my mind. There was the world in which I rescued the girl but all the others in the auditorium died; the world in which I tried to save everyone, but Serena was killed for my useless heroics; the world in which I got some people out, but not Serena…

I crested the flight, reached the landing, the door. This time, I managed to turn the knob without putting Serena down. I pushed the door open with my foot and held it open with her body. I stepped out into a dark corridor.

At once, there was a loud blast, a huge explosion. Serena cried out. The floor rattled under my feet.

I froze, eyes wide, mouth open. I felt Serena's body seize and stiffen in my arms.

But nothing happened. No gust of wind and flame, no destruction. Music rose. A patter of small arms fire sounded.

"Shit!" Serena said. "The movie."

I gave a quick, silent laugh.

The exciting music soared. I took one quick look around, this way and that.

There it was: the red light of an exit sign to my right, a guard standing underneath it. It was our chance of escape. I could get out that way. I could save Serena's life and my own.

To my left, I saw the swinging doors into the auditorium. There was a uniformed usherette standing there-a tiny old woman with black and silver hair.

I looked toward the red light. I looked back to the swinging doors. I made my choice. I barreled down the hall toward the auditorium. I had to try to clear the place. Even if it killed us both, I had to try.

I reached the doors. I turned my back to them. Serena's feet swung around and the ancient usherette had to leap out of their way.

The usherette began to say something. It sounded like "Ut-"