Page 145 of What Remains

This is my plan. My failure.

“Shit. We’re gonna have to go up to go down,” Dad whispers, then urges me to go that way.

Sebastian told us there’s a secret set of stairs leading from a room on level six to the emergency exit from room twenty-two. His overkill in keeping his family safe for when they stay here is more than likely the only reason Dad agreed to use this place.

“They’re on our ass. Hold on.” Easton cracks open the fourth-floor door and rushes me inside. “Stay here. Don’t move.”

“They’ll have night vision,” I cry out like they don’t already know.

“We’ll handle it,” Dad says. “Wait for us to open the door.”

Easton’s hand slips from my arm as they fade into darkness. The door closes with a soft click.

Sound ricochets—blasts, boots, and shouts—my heartbeat competing with all of it.

Then . . . silence.

The door opens slowly, and I know it’ll be them, because they won’t let anything happen to me, but relief still hits hard when Dad whispers my name.

“They’re down, but alive.” Dad takes hold of my hand and helps me over a body I pray is really only unconscious as we continue to level six.

“Almost there,” Easton murmurs, his presence somehow steadying me.

He and Dad—fighting side by side because of me.

Dad opens another door and hisses low, “Get her out of here.”

“Wait, what?” I turn toward his voice. “Why aren’t you coming?”

“They’re too close. Buying you time.” Dad nudges me away again, in a hurry for me to obey.

“Please.” Panic tangles in that word, but Dad doesn’t argue.

He’s locked into operator mode, and he shuts the door on us before I can beg even more.

“Come on.” Easton snatches my hand and pulls me down the dark hall.

“How will you know where the room is?”

“I measured the distance on the plane in case we had to leave this way. I counted the steps.”

Another blast rocks the corridor, and smoke billows in. Without ear protection, every sound is brutal and punishing.

“Dad!” I cry out on instinct, unable to stop the scream.

Easton spins me around behind him.

Before I can think, he pushes me into a room—no locks since this isn’t operating as a hotel, which helps us and them.

“What about Dad?”

“I have to get you out first. That was always the deal.”

Deal?

“I’ll go back for him,” he grits out. “You have my word.”

The cold air slaps me in the face when the exterior door flies open. Easton passes me off to Carter and Constantine, who are waiting outside by an SUV. Smoke stings my nose, and sirens wail somewhere too close. I barely have time to understand what’s happening, or to say goodbye to Easton, before he disappears back inside, Constantine at his six.