Vagabonds

Chapter Thirty-Three: Left Behind

Otto smirked, the skin of his face glistening. He was spreading his bare, shimmering fingers wide, gloves tossed aside, even as the soldiers moved to surround him.

"Freeze!" one ordered.

"Dumb fucks," Eliza heard Otto mutter before plunging his hands into the fluid lapping at his feet.

The very air seemed to crackle. There was a blinding flash and a sound like the loudest static Eliza had ever heard. She ducked back into the vent, but still she felt the whoosh of something fill the room, making her tightly curled hair rise like a cloud.

Soldiers screamed. Otto cackled.

And the ground sparkled like one big live wire.

"What the...?" Eliza breathed.

"He's shocking them," Tori said, mouth hanging open. "He's electric."

Eliza gaped at the scene.

Eagle. Housefly. Bat.

And... eel?

She shook her head. No time to think about that now. Otto might be delaying the attack, but he couldn't keep the soldiers at bay forever. She had to do something. Trying to swallow the oppressive claustrophobia, Eliza forced herself to turn herself around in the narrow vent and crawl toward the light of another grate. This one was over the hallway. She squinted down to see the soldiers crowded into the narrow space, all of them armed, all of them waiting.

There was no way out.

Unless...

Leaving the screams of electrocuted soldiers behind and ignoring Aquila's frantic shout for her to come back, Eliza edged her way down the vent until she was over the stairwell Moose had found, leading into the basement. Soldiers glanced up, their attention drawn by the warbling sound of her movements, but she passed them quickly, hunting, searching.

There.

A fire sprinkler right below the vent. Eliza squinted and could just make out the tiny glass tube in the middle of the sprinkler, the delicate signal waiting for heat. 

If she could break that tube, soak everyone, maybe it would help Otto. Maybe he could fight more of them.

Maybe they could escape.

It was the only thing she could think to do. So, heart in her throat, Eliza kicked the grate open. Soldiers whirled toward her, but she was already leaning out of the grate as far as she could go, feet pressing into the sides of the vent to keep her steady. She reached, stretched, channeling all her best gymnastics lessons as her body shook with exhaustion and terror.

Almost... there... 

Jamming her finger between the metal bars around the nozzle, she poked the glass tube once. Twice.

"Come on," she groaned as guns swung up toward her.

On the third jab, the glass shattered. Pain sizzled up her arm. Blood spurted from sliced fingers.

And a shrieking wail split the air.

There was a shout, a gunshot, an explosion of plaster by her head.

"AHH!" she screamed, toppling out of the vent. But she didn't make it to the floor. Arms locked around her, dragging her away from the wall just as water flooded from the line of sprinklers, filling the hall with rain.

Eliza looked up to find that horrible woman staring down at her, face twisted into a furious sneer.

"Kill her."