The Wire Hanger

Chapter Eighteen

From Lower Queen we followed Jezebel, flashlights off and stowed away in our packs. “You’re going to need your hands,” she’d told us, so I had visions of crawling on our hands and knees, but it turned out that we had to swing up through a trapdoor in the ceiling a ways into a tunnel that branched off the main one we’d been traveling in. The Tigers had no trouble, effortlessly swinging themselves and disappearing into the ceiling; the Bears, a little more, but with some help from the ground they managed.

            When it was my turn, I stared up at the hole in the ceiling. There was no way. I couldn’t even reach, let alone pull myself through.

            Noah said, “Here.” He held out his hands, laced together, palms up. I stared at him uncomprehendingly and he said, “Step in my hands. I’ll give you a boost.”

            “My feet are really gross,” I said.

            “That is foremost on my list of worries,” he said. “You’re right, terrible idea.”

            “And I’m heavier than I look.”

            He gave me a onceover, a second or two longer than was strictly necessary given the circumstances. “Nah.”

            There wasn’t time to argue. I stepped forward with my right foot into his hands, bracing my own on his shoulders for balance, and with one quick motion he stood, delivering my head into the ceiling.

            “Hi,” I said to the others gathered around, as though I were a gopher popping out of a hole. Jethro reached for me and hauled me up by my armpits. As soon as I was through, Noah pulled himself up as though it were nothing. I had to admit I was impressed. But I was never going to tell him that.

            Then all at once I realized we weren’t in a room – we were in the corner of a parking garage. And there were footsteps at the other end. Everyone around me froze and we waited, crouched, listening. The footsteps came closer, paused, then receded. Once we couldn’t hear them anymore we let out a collective breath. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding mine and was suddenly a little bit dizzy.

            “Patrol,” breathed Jezebel. “They’ll be back. We have to be quick. Follow me, but look before you go. Only one at a time.” And she darted away without further explanation. I could barely track her movements as she slipped through the shadows, about twenty feet away, and then disappeared into the wall. Then Obadiah did the same, then Adah, and on down the line until it was my turn. I was not at all convinced I knew what to do but my feet moved forward as if of their own accord, curling and tucking my body the way I’d seen the rest of them do.

            Then I heard the footsteps returning. I froze. I wondered if the others, somehow secreted in the wall, could hear as well. I waited for the pause and retreat but it wasn’t coming the way that I remembered it, and I was trapped halfway between the trap door, now in the floor, and wherever it was they had gone. There was a very faint sound behind me and then a clatter at the opposite end of the parking garage. The footsteps went running towards the sound and I felt Noah’s hand close around my wrist for the second time that night.

            “Move,” he hissed in my ear, and together we hurtled towards the wall.

            It was an elevator. Of course. An ancient freight elevator, the doors long since rotted away. We were standing on a metal platform – it was large enough to accommodate us all and then some, although we were standing close together – and there weren’t any guardrails at the side. If I’d wanted to I could reach out and touch the slimy cement wall.