The Journey The Only Survivors

Chapter XXIII: The Run

Liam and I met Bryan and Bella outside the room at exactly eleven fifteen.

"We didn't find anything," Bryan said. "We looked all over the deck and on this level. There were too many people on the two levels in between here and the deck, so we decided to look all around here."

"We looked all over the bottom two levels. But found nothing. . ." I said.

"So, shall we start where we left off?" Bryan asked.

I nodded.

Liam and I headed down the stairs.

"Maybe we should make use of the elevator next time," I said.

"I've had a fear of elevators ever since I was small," he said. "I'm always afraid they are going to fall."

"Did something happen when you were little to make you afraid of elevators?"

"Nope. I know—I'm a baby."

"You aren't a baby. Everybody has, at least, one irrational fear." I turned my attention to the task at hand.

"Okay, I was thinking, what if the phone is in a cabin. . ." Liam said. "As we search, if we see some cabins open, let's check them. It's risky, but we don't have time to be polite."

"I agree." He nodded.

We decided to sprint, this time, through the hallways.

"As we run, I'll search the walls and rooms on our left," I said. "You take the ones on our right."

We took off. Liam knocked on doors as we ran. If someone answered, he kept running, because it would be rude to check a room if someone was in there. Thinking this was a good idea to knock first, I started to do the same. Three people answered in a row, and then one didn't.

"Hey, Liam," I said.

Liam stopped and turned to look at me. "Is something wrong?"

"Nobody answered this door." I pointed toward it.

"Open it," he said. I tried the door, and it was open. Good thing too.

We searched the room, up and down, with no luck. We did the same with every vacant room, to no avail. There was something about people in third class not locking their rooms. Maybe they didn't have enough valuable things?

When we reached a dead end, we turned around and found another hallway to run down. We almost ran into a few people along the way. By the looks on their faces, they weren't happy with us, but they had no way of knowing the importance of our actions. We stopped when we ran out of hallways. I grabbed my knees, out of breath. Liam seemed to be just fine.

A minute later, we climbed the stairs to the next level and began the same routine. By the time we reached the end of that level, I was breathing hard again.

"What's wrong?" He knew the answer.

"There are. . . so many. . . levels," I said between breaths. "And. . . when we do stop. . . to look in an open room. . . my heart beats really fast. . . in anticipation of. . . finding the phone." I fought for every word.

"Don't you play sports?"

"Just softball, but we don't do a lot of running."

"Well, you're getting some exercise now."

"True. How are you not tired?"

"I can eat and eat and still not run out of breath when I run. I do get really sick sometimes, but—"

"Well, I'm not like you. You play football and run all the time."

"I do spend time on the treadmill during free periods at school or back at the gym at the orphanage."