Authors: Sophie McKenzie
‘We need to move this out of the way,’ I said.
Shelby turned round and, together, we wrenched the cabinet a few centimetres away from the wall. I bent down, my lungs stinging and my eyes watering. Trying to breathe as shallowly as possible,
I peered at the chain. It had been wound through the bars of the air duct grille that was set into the base of the wall. I felt through to the end of the chain. It was padlocked.
I sat back, my heart pounding, fighting the dizziness that filled my head.
‘Can you get it free, Lauren?’ Shelby sounded terrified.
‘Yes.’ I nodded for emphasis, but the truth was I couldn’t possibly see how I could get the chain out of the grille.
The chain was too strong and the padlock too sturdy to break. Maybe if I’d had half an hour and an axe I might have done it.
But I had neither.
I stared at the grille. Well, maybe if I couldn’t get the chain out of the grille I could just get the grille out of the wall.
I gripped both ends of the chain and gave the whole thing a yank.
Nothing happened.
‘Here.’ Shelby shuffled back to give me more space. ‘Use the wall to push against.’
I propped myself against the filing cabinet and pressed my feet to the wall above the grille.
I pulled hard on the chain.
Still no movement.
Shelby swore, her voice rising in panic. ‘Oh my God, Lauren.’
‘We’re going to do this,’ I insisted.
I got up. Holding my sodden jumper to my mouth I raced across the room. There had to be something here that would help me remove the grille.
I yanked open the top drawer of the row of drawers that ran along the far wall. It was full of stationery. I flung it onto the floor, then moved onto the next. It was full of scraps of string
and tacks and nails and rubber bands. I threw it onto the floor beside the first.
‘See if there’s anything there we can use,’ I said, shoving both drawers closer to Shelby.
She bent over, still coughing into her cardigan, sorting through the contents.
I went back to the chest of drawers: there were blocks of A4 paper, bundles of envelopes, boxes of staples . . .
‘Come
on
,’ I muttered to myself.
The room was thick with smoke now. My eyes were stinging. I tried to take tiny, shallow breaths. Panicky thoughts sped through my head. How long had the fire been raging? Was Jam OK? I strained
my ears, hoping to hear the
nee naw
of a fire engine’s siren. But I could hear nothing over the hiss of the fire and the soft thuds on the floor behind me, as Shelby ransacked the
drawers I’d given her.
‘What about this?’ she said.
I spun round. Shelby was holding up a small metal ruler. We both glanced over at the grille behind the filing cabinet. It was held in place by two screws, one at either end.
Another burst of smoke filled the room. I bent double, eyes squeezed tight shut. I was coughing so badly it felt like my lungs were about to explode out of my throat.
I forced my eyes open. ‘Let’s try it,’ I said, snatching the ruler off her.
There was just enough room for me to fit the tip of the metal bar into the first screw on the grille. As I steadied it, black smudges gathered at the edges of my vision.
No
. I felt horribly giddy, like I had done when we’d got free from the cave earlier.
I turned the tiny ruler, focusing everything I had on making sure it didn’t slip out of the screw. I reckoned I had less than a minute before I blacked out from the smoke.
This was our only chance.
The Burning
I twisted the ruler again. The screw was now jutting out from the grille.
‘It’s working,’ I said.
‘Good,’ Shelby croaked.
Another twist and the first screw fell onto the floor. With trembling fingers, I set to work on the second screw. Around me the smoke was growing thicker. I narrowed my eyes, trying in vain to
minimise the amount of smoke getting into them. They stung badly.
I concentrated on turning the screwdriver. I was so dizzy I could barely keep myself upright, but I kept going. Another twist. Another. I lost all sense of time. All my focus was on this screw
and this metal ruler and this moment.
At last the screw fell out.
Yes
. Hope surged through me.
I gripped the chain threaded through the bars of the grille and yanked hard. With a sucking noise, the grille came away from its setting.
‘Look!’ I held up the grille and turned to show Shelby.
But her eyes were closed. She was lying, slumped on the floor. The cardigan which she had been clutching to her mouth lay on the ground beside her.
Had she passed out from the smoke?
I scrambled over. ‘Wake up, Shelby!’
Her head lolled on her chest. I said her name again. No response. I reached back my hand and slapped her hard on the cheek.
‘Aagh!’ It came out as a low moan, but her eyelids flickered. She coughed.
I shook her shoulders. ‘Get up!’ I ordered.
Eyes still closed, Shelby stirred. She reached out her arms and I helped her to stand. I could barely stay upright myself. My head was spinning, my throat clogged with smoke.
‘Come
on
!’ I tried to yell, but all that came out was a hoarse rasp.
‘OK,’ Shelby muttered.
Leaning against me, she shuffled forward. I pushed open the door to the hallway. A wall of heat and smoke smacked us in the face. Flames were spreading across the landing. We both turned away,
coughing violently. I could feel Shelby slipping down my side and gripped her more tightly.
Come on, come on
.
The dizziness in my head was building. Black smudges floated across my vision. We only had seconds to get to the relative safety of the second storage room before the smoke and the fire
overwhelmed us. I pushed myself on, keeping tight hold of Shelby. She was moaning now, dragging herself across the floor. Another step and we’d reach that back room. Just one more, just one
more.
There
. I pushed the door open and flung Shelby inside. She staggered across the room, collapsing in a heap at the base of the chair under the open dormer window. I slammed the door shut.
The air was smoky in here, but nowhere near to the same extent as on the landing, or in the room we had just left.
I followed Shelby over to the window, clambered onto the chair so my head was outside and took a few deep breaths of the cold night air. The black smudges at the edges of my vision smoothed
away.
I could see nothing except the roof tiles and the dark sky above – and hear nothing except the crackle of the fire. The smell of burning drifted up towards me. I tried to shout
‘help!’ but my throat was too sore. All that came out was a useless gasp.
I got down off the chair, feeling dizzy from the exertion of attempting to shout. I leaned against the wall, trying to work out what we needed to do next.
Smoke was still slipping through, round the sides and at the base of the door, but the fresh air from the dormer window would buy us a little time. And, surely, even if Jam or Annie hadn’t
been able to call for help
someone
would have seen the fire by now. Hope rose inside me. All we had to do was sit tight for a few more minutes. Sit tight and wait for the fire brigade. Not
even Cooper could stop a whole emergency service.
Shelby was curled up on the ground, her eyes tightly shut. The only sign that she was alive was the fluttering motion of her chest as she breathed in and out: shallow, panicky gasps.
‘Hey, Hog Girl,’ I said. ‘Don’t sweat it, the fire engine will be here soon.’
‘A fire truck?’ Shelby opened one eye and looked up at me. ‘Can you hear the siren?’
‘No,’ I admitted, ‘but the fire’s been going for ages now . . . somebody’s bound to have seen it.’
Shelby sat up. ‘Lauren, it only started, like, about two minutes ago.’
‘Whatever, we’ll make it.’ I swallowed. My throat was still burning from the fumes I’d inhaled. I pointed to the chair. ‘If you stand on that you can get your head
through the window. We’ll be OK until the fire fighters get here.’
Shelby struggled to her knees and leaned against the chair, her face tipped to the window. Her skin was a deathly grey colour.
‘I feel dizzy,’ she said.
I reached out my hand to steady her. ‘Let me help,’ I said.
‘Wow.’ Shelby turned to me, raising her eyebrows. ‘Who’d have thought . . . Nurse Lauren.’
I stared at her. I couldn’t figure her expression at all. All of a sudden, words I hadn’t even consciously thought spilled out of my mouth.
‘You really hate me, don’t you?’ I said.
I froze. Why on earth had I said that?
Shelby stared at me. Several long seconds passed.
‘Yes,’ she said.
My stomach shrivelled inside me. Despite the naked honesty of my question, I hadn’t really expected Shelby to be honest back.
Resentment rose inside me. Hadn’t I just risked my life to save her?
‘You’ve got no reason to hate me,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘I’ve done nothing to hurt you.
Ever
. In fact, I’ve gone out of my way to be
nice to you.’
Shelby’s eyebrows shot up. ‘
Nice?
’ she said with withering scorn. ‘If the past two years have been you being
nice
then I’d hate to see what you being
mean would look like.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Well, what about what you nearly said yesterday or whenever it was . . . about how you wished I’d been kidnapped instead of Madison.’
Oh, man
. ‘I
didn’t
say that,’ I said, my face reddening.
‘Yeah, but it’s what you were
going
to say.’
‘No,’ I protested. ‘I was just upset. I didn’t mean it.’
‘No? Like you didn’t mean to take Madison away from me . . . or Mom or Dad or—?’
‘What?’ I said. ‘How on
earth
did I take
anyone
away from you?’
‘Madison and I were real close until you came back.’
‘No, you weren’t,’ I snapped. ‘You were bullying her, for goodness’ sake.’
Shelby shrugged. ‘That started afterwards, because of
you
. Anyway, with Mom and Dad . . . you were all they ever thought about. All my life it was Martha Lauren this, Martha Lauren
that . . . their lives were dominated by whether some old lady in Tampa had seen you or if you’d turned up in some elementary school in Chicago . . . or—’
‘None of that was my fault.’ I folded my arms. ‘I didn’t
ask
to be kidnapped.’
Shelby sighed. I glanced at the door. Smoke was still seeping into the room, but at least the air in here was relatively breathable.
‘Don’t you see that you were always there – like this idealised person out in the world somewhere who I had to live up to . . . they never gave me a chance.’
Shelby’s mouth trembled. ‘And once you came back, it got worse. Our whole lives turned upside down. Look at the way Mom and Dad ran off to London to buy that apartment and the way every
holiday was dominated by making sure
you
had time with
both
your families. Everyone thought it was all so hard on you having to deal with four parents, but all four of them tiptoed
around you like you were a queen. And you acted like one too.’
I opened my mouth to make some cutting remark back about Shelby being pretty good at acting like a queen herself when, without warning, something someone had once said to me came into my
head.
You have four parents who love you. For that maybe it is possible to belong in two places
.
I bit my lip. I’d never really compared my situation to Shelby’s before. I thought of Duchovny. He was her father and he certainly didn’t love her.
‘It still wasn’t my fault that I got taken away when I was a little girl,’ I said.
‘Maybe
that
wasn’t,’ she said, ‘but afterwards, when you came back, you were so smart and so pretty and I just felt ugly whenever I was next to you.’
I stared at her. Was that really how she’d felt? ‘Me coming back didn’t change Sam and Annie’s feelings for you,’ I said.
‘Yes, it did.’ Shelby sniffed. ‘I used to be Mom’s favourite, like Madison was Dad’s. But once you came back
you
were her favourite.’
‘That’s not true,’ I said, though inside I wasn’t so sure. Annie had followed me around everywhere when I came to live with them. It drove me nuts, to be honest. With a
jolt, I realised that I’d never once considered just how difficult seeing Annie grasping for my attention must have been for Shelby.
‘It is
so
true, Lauren.’ Shelby sighed. ‘Don’t you see? You go in search of a Mom and a Dad who never wanted to lose you and who are over the moon to have you
back.’ She looked down at the floor and lowered her voice. ‘I find out my Mom had an affair and my Dad isn’t who I think he is and
my
dad . . . my
birth
dad . . . he
doesn’t want to know me.’ She looked up at me and there was real pain in her eyes. ‘I heard him . . . Duchovny . . . talking to Cooper Trent. He said I was a mistake . . . an
accident. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.’
That was true. And in that moment I saw Shelby in a way I’d never seen before.
Her
life dominated by my disappearance.
Her
life thrown into turmoil on my return. She had
Annie, for sure, but Sam had died and now she’d discovered another father . . . one who wasn’t at all interested in knowing her.
I’d never had to deal with either of those things.
We looked at each other. I wanted to say something . . . something honest and kind.
‘Shelby—’
A huge explosion shook the building. The ground trembled under our feet. Shelby screamed. I clutched at the chair beside me.
‘What the hell was that?’ Shelby gasped.
I struggled onto the chair. ‘Come on, get up here,’ I ordered.
‘But—’ Shelby’s next words were lost as another explosion, even louder than the first, rocked the building to its core.
I held out my hand to her as the door blew in on us, off its hinges. And a huge ball of fire rushed furiously into the room.