remains • b. barnes

14

"In one week's time," Loki was saying. "There will come the strongest surge of power we've yet to feel. We're going to harness it. Truthfully, I thought you might have known already. It's why I was baiting you. It's also why I broke into—"

"Can we—take a break—?" I panted. Loki's brisk walking pace was a jog for me. Ten minutes ago, he'd ushered me, invisible, out of the main building, down into the tunnels under the old facility, damp and dark. It was largely damaged, too, with dead ends filled with dirt and rubble. Everything that was still in tact, like the dirt, metal, and pipes over my head, appeared to be on the verge of caving in. I worried about what else I didn't see in the darkness. I was dependent on the flashlight in Loki's hand.

Loki looked down at me. He pointed the flashlight at his own face so I could see his expression—faintly surprised or a little disgusted. He didn't slow down. "Are you tired already? How do you go about your day, being fragile as you are?"

"Can you maybe just walk slower?" I stumbled on a rock.

"No," he said. "Much to do."

"Is it much farther?" I asked.

"No," Loki said. "But if you collapse, I'll surely catch you."

I held back, letting him advance without me. My heart was beating in my throat. I held the wall with one hand as I tried to catch my breath. I heard him finally stop when I didn't catch up. He spun around and walked back toward me slowly, boots crunching in the dirt.

I could tell we were heading toward the red oak. In my head, I'd kept a map of the twists and turns we'd taken. I could have made it out if I'd had an opportunity to run—but I hadn't.

My breathing didn't even out, no matter how I gasped. My heart rate wouldn't slow down either. I felt like I was going to collapse. I slid down the wall to sit in the dirt and pulled my knees into my chest.

"I'm going to remain standing while I speak to you, but it's only because I'm not fond of dirt," Loki said.

"Just give me a second," I said into my skirt. I could still see the light from his flashlight around  me.

Then he sighed, as if I'd somehow protested. I looked up. He lowered himself down reluctantly, into a careful crouch that kept his pants from touching the ground.

"I see that you're upset," he said. He shined the flashlight directly into my face. When I didn't respond, he said, "I can't help but feel as if I may be to blame for this."

He sighed again, heavier this time, and I heard his movement, a crunch of dirt as he sat down beside me. "Are you afraid of spiders?" he asked.

I didn't reply.

"I've just stopped one from crawling onto your head. Do you want to decide its fate?"

He pointed the flashlight at the squirming spider that he was dangling, its leg pinched between his thumb and index finger.

"Let it go," I said. "It's scared."

"I knew you would say that," he said.

He placed it down on the floor. It scuttled toward me, and I flinched. I stomped my foot over it.

"That was just cruel," Loki said. "To give it a taste of freedom only to stamp it out. Evil."

"It was coming toward me!"

"I, too, lash out when I'm afraid."

"I wasn't lashing out!"

"Don't you feel better now?" he asked. "After lashing out? You're breathing again. It's because you took control. Power makes us feel safe. A little power over a little thing will—"