Uproarium's Brightest

Chapter Twenty-Three: Run Boy Run

The moon hang low that night, casting an eerie light over the mess of papers spread over my wooden desk. I rested my head on my palms, pursing my lips. Rubbing my fingers over my eyes, my shoulders slumped forward with fatigue as I put all my strength into staying awake. The pencil felt warm in my hands and I was surprised to see it hadn't lit on fire from how copiously I was using it.

Thorne had given me the charge size, the range, hell, even the kind of explosives. He'd been chillingly specific and the numbers he had presented me with were... Phenomenal. The mechanism itself was light-weight, delicate even, one could say. Yet it was capable of so much destruction.

I bit my lip, letting out a curt exhale. Things weren't looking up for us, that was for sure.

45 feet in its radius meant certain doom, I couldn't help but remember, running a hand through my hair. 70 meant being buried under rubble, waiting for a saviour that might not even get there on time. A saviour that could be tipped off, swayed by false promises. I took in a sharp inhale, raking my pencil across a hand-drawn map of The Manor. My heartbeat echoed in my neck, reminding me of the rising tension building in my throat.

There had to be something I was missing. My eyes flicked to the sketches of the Door Barriers, the tip of my pencil tapping persistently on the circuit locks, a constant reminder of being trapped inside the Manor. I tried to remember all I had ever learned about explosives, electricity, but my mind felt fried, my head fuzzy with an ever-growing confusion.

"Well, circuits can be overidden, Mal"

I swirled around, snapping my head towards the disembodied voice. The curtains flicked and warm air rose from the fireplace, swaying them in a gentle wave. I had resorted to speaking to Mary Clementine in my head, I thought, head between hands. Great, just peachy.

"You just need a big wave, you know?"

A chill crept up my back and the curtains swayed much quicker now. The fire behind the metal fence grew in intensity, the tips of the flame tickling the lower part of my bare legs. I grabbed the short, rigid metal rod, stirring the ashen wood in the pit. The mechanic's voice continued to echo in my head.

"Breathe," I took in a sharp inhale, attempting to focus. I paid attention to the sway of the curtains, the unruly carpet laid down underneath my feet, the fabric of my clothes sticking against my skin.

"Remember. Waves"

Blast waves, my eyes widened in realisation and I immediately made the connection. Those Barriers wouldn't endure the blast. They were a weak point, an Achilles's Heel in the whole operation. The waves would override the security, the circuits would malfunction in seconds. For once, I thanked Thorne for his genius. He'd, knowingly or not, created an exit, an escape tunnel. A fail-safe.

We could survive, we just had to be far enough to withstand the explosion and then, run. Which, to be honest, was much easier said than done. I pushed my chair back, my back muscles aching in protest. I gasped, feeling a pull in my shoulder, my fingers instantly inching towards it. I sighed, resting my head in my palms, yet I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth.

I had figured it out. I really had. And with great achievement, comes great need to take a nap.

**** **

"That's such good news!" Mary Clementine exclaimed, her lips twitching. She let out a shaky breath, her silver gaze fixating on an invisible spot on the wall.

"Is everything... okay?" I found the courage to ask slowly, my brows furrowing in suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm, I'm fine," she waved me off, a reassuring grin spreading over her cheeks. "Why- why're you asking?" Mary Clementine muttered, twirling the auburn waves of her hair between her fingers.