Authors: Mia Hoddell
Taking a step backwards, she lined up the sections of protruding wall with the objects on the inside.
They matched perfectly.
Heading over to the painting, she gripped it and slowly lifted it from the wall only to find the same painted plaster and a few scuff marks from where the frame had rested. Replacing the image, she moved over to the next one which drew curious stares from Kirby.
“What are you doing? You just missed out a huge chunk of wall,” he complained.
“I’m following a hunch,” she murmured adamantly in response as she reached up to the mirror.
Holding her breath she raised the gold frame off the hooks and lowered it down to the floor, her muscles straining under the weight.
This time there was an anomaly: a squared panel. A flash of excitement made her eyes widen. “Told you,” she stated confidently in Kirby’s direction as she stretched up to remove the latches holding the panel in place. Just out of reach, her fingers brushed over them. Stretching up on tiptoes, she tried to release them, desperately wanting to avoid having to ask for help. She realised though that she didn’t have time to allow her pride to stand in the way. “Well don’t just stand there,” she accused, not wanting to outrightly appear inadequate.
He snapped the latch open easily. Within seconds the panel joined the mirror on the floor and a cold draught blew from the black hole in the wall.
“Guess I have to go down there then,” Cora muttered, not thrilled with the idea of the small, dark, and tight space that was probably full of bugs. She was however, excited by having found a way out.
“Hope you’re not claustrophobic,” Kirby sniggered but Cora shrugged it off. She wasn’t.
“You got a torch or anything?” she asked, realising she was going to be underground at the bottom.
“Dad thought of that. You’ll find rechargeables plugged in below.”
“Right, well thanks,” she said awkwardly.
“Didn’t do it for you,” Kirby stated which made Cora turn on him instantly.
“Yeah I know. You hate me and I’m ruining your life although I have never done anything. I don’t even want to be here for Christ’s sake but you still blame me. Give me a leg up and I’ll get out of your life. I wouldn’t want to ruin your oh-so-spoilt, rich kid lifestyle,” she sneered.
Normally someone hating her wouldn’t bother her. However, when it was someone she had never met who seemed to have a dangerous and deep level of dislike of her, for no apparent reason, she found it intolerable.
Kirby didn’t care what she thought and ignored her comment; he wanted her gone fast. “When you get to the bottom, it’s a straight tunnel. After that you will reach another ladder that will take you up to the ground. The guards will be patrolling but your best opportunity will be to leave when they change shifts…which is in ten minutes. So I suggest you run,” he said checking his watch. Kirby’s voice sounded sly and a part of Cora hoped he was lying just to panic her.
To her disappointment, his words rang true to her ears as she gestured for him to hurry up. The last thing she needed was to be caught while trying to escape. It would just land her straight back in the mansion, without the luxuries, and she’d have to start over from a more impossible situation.
Kirby held out his hands, locking his fingers together as he rested them against his leg to create a stirrup.
Cora climbed into it and surveyed the empty black tube. She was thankful whoever had designed it had left room and rungs above the entrance so someone could go in head first and bring their feet in last. She didn’t think Kirby had the strength to enable her to go in feet first.
Gripping hold of the icy bars on the ladder, she stuck her head into the gap and by using all of the arm strength, she pulled her legs up and through easily before lowering them on to a bar beneath.
She turned to say something to Kirby, but was pleased to see he was already one step ahead as he replaced the panel, and suddenly she was immersed in darkness.
The tunnel was narrow and even Cora felt claustrophobic. Cautiously, she lowered her foot, it hanging in the air as anxiously, she wondered if there would be any support below. Then the sole of her shoe pressed down on the next steel bar as she started her descent, feeling for each bar embedded in the tunnel wall.
It was made more difficult because it was pitch black but one rung at a time she lowered herself and then scraped her elbows on the stone. Adapting she pulled them in and raised them above her head, wondering how Rogan managed to fit down in such a small space. Quickly, she got used to the repetitive equi-distance between bars and found a rhythm that had her feet touching the floor before even a minute was up.
On solid ground, carefully she shuffled around. She made sure to keep her hands outstretched, searching for a way out. When she was facing the opposite direction, she saw a dim, red light revealing narrow walls on a tunnel that led into the darkness beyond. Briskly, she moved through the cobwebs, knowing it would only be time before her absence was noticed.
Ten metres in, the tunnel released her into a small cavern. The red lights she had seen were the torches, neatly lined up on a bench in front of her. Hurriedly, she flicked each one on and off, looking for the brightest then turned back to the blackness of the tunnel that continued on out of the cavern. Shining the torch down, the way the beam ended in a fuzzy greyness, Cora realised the tunnel was long. She broke into a light jog that became faster until she ran, the fear of being caught driving her, the echo from her footsteps like someone chasing her.
It felt like hardly any time had passed when Cora slowed her pace, reaching another ladder that was rustier than the first one she had climbed down. The fact that she had done it so quickly made her question Kirby’s running speed, but it was a fleeting thought.
Shining the torch upwards, she could see a manhole cover at the top of the ladder. For a moment the thought of what might be on the other side made her hesitate, but she didn’t have time and it was her only way out. She placed the torch in the waistband of her jeans so it pointed up. It gave her sufficient light to see as she reached out and grabbed the first rung. With spider-like movements, it only took seconds for her to pull herself up to the final rung below the manhole. She switched off the torch not wanting the light to spill out and draw attention from anyone who may have been outside.
Laying one hand flat on the underside of the cover while hanging on with the other, she pushed up as silently as she could. The scrape of metal grinding together made her pause for a second but figuring that there was nothing she could do about it, she continued and pushed up again. However with the considerable weight, it became evident gently easing the cover off was impossible so she forced her arm upwards with all her strength, aiming the cover to land to her left. To her luck, it was hinged and balanced by itself.
Poking her head out of the hole, just like Kirby had said, the entire shed she came up in was dark. She could smell the damp wood and outdoor air but nothing else caught her attention. Pulling herself out of the hole, Cora shut the lid, careful not to make a sound before she moved over to the small sliver of light that highlighted the door.
Opening it slightly she noticed the house lights behind her glowing brightly in the darkness and the outhouse to the left. There were a few shadows moving around inside the building but checking all around her, she couldn’t see any of Rogan’s men guarding the perimeter, only a single guard was stood in front of the outhouse. Staying where she was would risk her getting caught, so swiftly she opened the door only as far a she needed to get out and dropped instantly to a crouch as it shut behind her.
She needed to get around to the front of the house and she needed to do it quickly.
Scurrying into the shadows, Cora ran in the opposite direction of the guard’s building.
She didn’t hesitate and she didn’t look back.
Suddenly a security light blasted brightly in her face like an explosion. Instinctively, Cora threw herself at the ground. Holding her breath in fear, she glanced back and saw the bored guard whip his head in her direction. She felt exposed and was certain the guard could see her, but there was a slight undulation in the ground that she hoped was sufficient to conceal her. She felt like they were staring into each other’s eyes as the guard scanned for a reason why the light had switched on. It seemed like forever when a cat appeared in the light in between them and ran across. Exhaling as the guard noticed the cat and resumed his round, Cora’s heart accelerated with fear, causing her breathing to start coming in short sharp breaths. She watched the cat run to the other side and with one deft movement saw it easily spring up on to a lower reinforcing buttress of the bomb-proof wall, then with another jump it leapt on to the top level.
That gave Cora the idea: The wall was impossibly high but built to keep people out, not people in. For a moment she allowed herself a smile at her only ally that looked back at her and meowed before it jumped down the other side.
There was only fifty metres of open ground. She was sure she could make that. The guard was distracted and turned away. Then the security light extinguished itself. That was all Cora needed. In the relative blackness, she jumped up and sprinted out into the open and towards the wall. She didn’t look sideways, only focused on reaching that wall. Fifty metres seems like the longest race when your life depended on it. With every muscle she pushed herself forward. Then just as the guard was turning back, she reached the other side and with one bound, she pulled and clawed her way up on to the buttress. Taking one last look at the mansion behind her, Cora allowed herself the first victorious smile as she swung her legs over and dropped to the ground on the other side.
She was free.
She was excited.
She knew where she was going.
But she definitely wasn’t safe.
Cora ran most of the way away from Rogan’s. She wanted to build up as much of a lead as possible before she found somewhere to sleep for the night. She had a rough idea of where she was heading but every now and then she had to pause when she came across one of the old tourist road maps.
Thankful that they hadn’t been removed, even though people had long stopped coming to England, she managed to get to Wensworth Road without much difficulty.
Cora had no idea of the time, or how long she had been running, but she felt tired. She also knew that she would need to be on alert the next day. So, finding a dark alleyway that looked deserted, she slipped behind a cluster of discarded wheelie bins and settled down to try and sleep.
* * *
“Where the hell is she?” Rogan roared at the two men who, unfortunately for them, had been standing guard on Cora’s door during the time she escaped the next morning. Requiring her for a job, Rogan had summoned her to his office but when Nick had gone to collect her, he had only found an empty room. Not believing that it was possible for her to have escaped from anywhere other than the tunnels, Rogan was impressed that she had found it so quickly. He still needed to see the room for himself though.
“We’ve been stood here all night, sir. She never left the room, only your son visited her. He said you had ordered him to check on her.”
Pure rage ripped from Rogan’s mouth as he pushed past the men, scattering them like pins in a bowling alley. Throwing open the door he stormed into the room, prowling the empty space like a lion looking for its kill. Tearing the room apart, he pulled open cupboards, threw back the duvet, looked under the bed; checking any space that was big enough for her to fit in. Just like his first thought, and what Nick had said though, the room was empty.
Standing, a flicker of orange in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Stalking over to it, he grabbed the piece of paper off the floor. As he read the words that were written upon it he wanted to both punch something and shout with smugness at Cora’s stupidity.
“Nick, you and a team head to this address. That’s where she’ll be if she hasn’t headed there already. You are to use any force necessary to bring her back here, you understand?”
Nodding once, Nick turned briskly and left the room.
Taking one last look around the suite, the guard’s words finally filtered through Rogan’s rage. He knew Cora, no matter how skilled, would never have found the escape routes on her own and the fact that Kirby had visited her using a lie to gain access only led him to draw one conclusion. With determined strides, Rogan headed for the door, slamming it harder than necessary behind him. He saw Kirby, poking his head out of his room, his face marred with worry.
“I’ll deal with you when she gets back.” Rogan felt no need to elaborate on his threat, Kirby knew well enough what would happen and the wait would only add mental torture of what he was going to have to endure.
* * *
Cora was the first to admit when she awoke that it was one of the worst night’s sleep she’d had in a long time. There was a persistent ache in her neck, her back hurt and her right arm was numb from lying on it. Her mind had refused to go into a deep sleep in case someone approached her and she needed to wake quickly, so for that reason Cora woke up feeling less refreshed than normal.
She did however, feel alert. Her mind was focused on the task at hand and after she brushed herself down from all the dirt she’d slept on, she headed out of the alleyway towards the almost deserted Starbucks. Cora thought it was a miracle they were still open for business but they had probably been funded by Rogan as surprisingly, coffee was something people didn’t want to give up.
Walking into the building, she saw only two other customers sitting at a table and a girl standing behind the counter. Apart from the odd clang of mugs being placed on their plate, slurping or the sound of the till, the room was silent. It was like death’s waiting room.
“Hi, what can I get you?” the girl’s voice rang out, sounding too loud in the silent room.
“Regular coffee, please.” There was no point elaborating as they wouldn’t have it. A vanilla latte used to be Cora’s favourite, however Starbucks had long stopped selling anything elaborate when the economy went under. People couldn’t afford the extra expense and so now regular coffee or tea was all that was available in most shops.
As Cora handed over the correct amount, she retrieved her coffee and headed over to a table to wait. She had no idea who the mystery man or woman was, or what they looked like—for all she knew it could be one of the two people already sat. Observing them, she quickly dismissed that idea. One was an elderly woman, the other a slim frail looking man wearing a threadbare jacket. Neither of them paid any attention to her. She figured that if they could track her every movement and save her from Rogan numerous times, they would know what she looked like. So, taking a seat, she waited for someone to approach her.
She didn’t realise it, but Cora spent most of the next ten minutes eagerly staring at the clock. Three customers had come in to purchase a drink and each time she had looked up, trying to make eye contact. None of them paid her a second glance.
Finally the clock reached ten. Almost instantly the bell above the door chimed, signalling someone was either leaving or entering the building.
Looking over, Cora saw a man with light brown hair who was wearing a white T-shirt that was slightly too big for his slim figure. He wore jeans, but unlike the top they fitted perfectly. There was also a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes but that was a normal sight. It was just another precautionary device people used to stop themselves being identified.
Due to the fact he had his back to her, Cora could not see his face and deciding she didn’t want to be caught staring, she went back to stirring her coffee with one of those wooden rods you’d find on the table of extras.
She was still staring at the mini whirlpool she had created in the paper cup when a shadow covered her. Looking up she saw the guy who had just entered the premises looming over her.
His ears where slightly too big for his head—or maybe the hat made them stand out more—and he had a crooked smile, but what caught Cora’s attention the most were his strikingly blue eyes that were encased by a thick wall of dark lashes.
Cora didn’t realise she was staring until he cleared his throat. Shaking her head, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
“Can I help you?” she said, trying to sound irritated by his interruption.
“You Cora Shields?” He cocked his head to the side as he questioned her.
“Why? Who wants to know?” she replied defensively, not wanting to give him the time of day, even though she had come for answers.
He nodded towards the chair opposite her as if asking permission to sit down. Cora shrugged in response. No one else would know her name in these parts unless he was one of Rogan’s men or the mystery note leaver. Cora figured if he was her mystery saviour she had found what she came for and if he was one of Rogan’s, it was already too late to leave.
Resting his cup on the table, he slid into the uncomfortable wooden chair. “I’m Jed. Jed Sanders.” He held out his hand but Cora just stared at it until he retracted it awkwardly.