Part 13 (2/2)

Sylas starts down the hall, heading for the main room. ”Then I guess it's no more answers.”

I don't budge, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorway. I'm torn. I want to know what Dominic knows, yet I don't want to let him out.

”I have a map!” Dominic screams. ”It will lead you right to the tunnel.”

Sylas reverses down the hall. ”Where's the map?”

”Not until you let me out.” He pounds on the locker and the metal bulges out. ”Then I'll give it to you.”

”What's a map?” I ask Sylas.

He ignores me and storms in the room. ”If I let you out, you better not try anything.”

”What's a map?” I repeat, but he just hands me the lantern and knife.

”I won't,” Dominic says innocently. ”I promise.”

Sylas reaches for the circular lock, but pauses and scoops up a long metal pipe. He checks that I still have the knife in my hand. ”Be ready.” He clicks the lock, holding the door shut with his foot. ”And if you do try something, I'll snap your neck.”

Sylas isn't lying, and I'm glad. Knowing I can't protect myself very well, it's comforting to know that he is capable of doing so. But I envy him.

Sylas jerks his foot from the locker and then backs up until he's towering in front of me. My heart beats madly as I watch the locker from over his shoulder. The door jiggles and then it swings open, hitting the concrete with a clank. A head peaks out and my gag reflexes threaten to take over.

There are patches of hair on his mutilated head. One of his eyes has been stabbed out and part of his face is covered in teeth marks. It only gets worse as he stands up. His neck is thrashed with claw marks and his arms and legs have been gnawed. In some spots there is no flesh, revealing his bones.

”Good G.o.d,” Sylas whispers in revulsion. ”It's like the red door all over again.”

In the memories that took place behind the red door, I once witness a torn little boy eating his own arm. ”Did you do that to yourself?” I ask Dominic.

He steps out of the locker and his skin oozes blood and pus. ”I got hungry.”

Suddenly, Sylas bashes him on the side of the head with a pipe. Dominic covers his head with his arms and lets out a growl, his one eye glowering.

”That was your warning to be on your best behavior.” Sylas steps aside and gestures at the door. ”Now lead the way to the map.”

Dominic rubs his head and waddles between us. His feet leave a trail of green pus and blood as he leads us up the hall. Sylas holds the pipe and the lantern. I'm at the back with the knife. Dominic's unsettling because I can't read him. There's no indication of a lie, but no evidence of truth either. He is a mystery.

We reach the end of the hall and Dominic shakes his head vigorously. His tongue slithers out of his mouth as he speaks. ”This way.” His shoulders slouch over and he meanders into the silver-lined room. Then he shrinks back, s.h.i.+vering and shaking.

”I can't go in,” he moans. ”There's silver in the walls.”

I take the lantern from Sylas. ”Where's the map?” I ask Dominic.

”In the cabinet.” He points his bony finger at a sc.r.a.ped cabinet in the back corner. ”In the top drawer.”

I tiptoe inside, the knife gripped tightly in my hand. The walls reflect luminously against the glow of the lantern. There's a chair smashed in the corner and a set of chains piled to the side. When I reach the cabinet, I position the lantern on the floor and try the top drawer.”

”It's locked,” I call out, giving the drawer a good hard tug.

”Break it open then,” Sylas replies, annoyed with my incompetence.

Using the knife, I slip the blade in the crack. After a lot of grunting and sweating, the wood finally splits apart. The drawer shoots open and I s.h.i.+ne the lantern inside. There are a stack of papers, penned with red ink. I pick one up and stare at the multi-colored lines, weaving a path across it.

I turn to Dominic and hold the lantern to the paper. ”Is this a map?”

”Yes,” he hisses and I don't like the zeal in his tone. ”That's it. That's what you need.”

I fold it up and start to shut the drawer, when a gla.s.s vial rolls forward, along with a few syringes. The vial is filled with black liquid; the medicine that will transform me into a Day Taker. I left my vial back at the Day Takers' hideout. I don't know why I do it. But the back of my mind convinces me to take it. I quickly stuff it in my back pocket, along with a syringe.

”Kayla, what are you doing in there?” Sylas hollers. ”Hurry up.”

”I'm coming,” I shout and hustle to the door. I present Sylas with the map, but Dominic robs it from my hand.

”Watch it,” Sylas warns, intimidating the pipe at him. ”You're walking on thin ice here.”

Dominic hastily unfolds the map with quivering fingers. ”I'm sorry, I was just trying to show you where the tunnels are.” He smoothes it out on the ground and points to a large brown spot near the border. ”This is where we are right now.” He slides his finger to the center. ”And this is your entrance to the tunnels.”

Sylas angles his head over the map and his expression falls. ”Of course it is.”

I lean over. ”Where is it?”

Sylas studies the map, running his finger along a square of green. ”It's in the center of the park.”

I stare at the shapes and words that I don't understand. ”In the park from my memory.”

Sylas frowns. ”Yep, that would be the one.”

”What's so bad about it?” I ask. ”You seem uneasy about going there.”

He meets my eyes. ”First off, I'm never uneasy. I'm just not particularly fond of this park. And second of alla” His eyes dart down the hall. ”Where the h.e.l.l did Dominic go?” He jumps to his feet, his fangs already gliding out.

I fold up the map and stuff it in my pocket. ”He's probably trying to bolt.”

”He'll never make it up that pipea” He races up the hallway with the pipe gripped in his hands. The vial nearly burns in my pocket as I stay behind him.

When we barrel into the main entrance, I spotlight the lantern at the floor. ”Look,” I point at a route of blood and pus, ”he's been through here.”

Sylas holds up his finger, indicating me to stay put. He sidles toward the staircase, his footsteps light as air. He reaches the steps and peers up, his night vision skimming the upstairs. Then he climbs up to the top and slinks for the door.

I feel the breeze before the impact. But there's no time to react. I'm slammed to the floor. The weighty force knocks the wind out of me. I roll on my back, gasping as I peer up at Dominic.

”What are you doing?” I press his face back as his fangs nip at me. ”Get the h.e.l.l off me.” I force my knees between our bodies and launch him through the air.

He hits the wall loudly and his eyes roll in his head. I start for him, poising my knife for the kill. His bones begin to crack, his body shakes, and his mouth salivates. I think about running, but my feet won't budge.

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