Trapped (15 page)

Chapter 15
– Desperation

“No, Emily. Absolutely not.”

“Please, Mom. It’s not a big deal.”

“I will not allow that boy to sleep anywhere near here tonight.”

“Mom, he’s just going to sit outside the car.”

“I said
no
, Emily. I know you think suddenly that rules don’t apply to you. But he’s not sleeping near our car, and that’s final.”

My eyes scan over the girls, their eyes wide in the backseat, before I turn back to Chris. All the windows of the car are open. Of course he heard every word my mom said from the driver’s seat.

He puts a hand on my shoulder, moving me gently aside so he can take my place. Bending down, he leans his forearms on the passenger side door, a smile on his lips.

“
I understand your feelings,” he tells her. “It’s just that…you know, it’s our last night here.”

“That doesn’t matter,” my mom says icily, “if you’re planning on seeing her
after
we get out of this tunnel.”

It’s
meant as a question, and I think my mom, the girls, and I are all holding our breath, waiting for his answer. He stands up briefly, meeting my eyes, before bending back down.

“The other thing is, well, I have some food leftover. Some of the other families are getting so hungry, that even though it’s our last night, I’m afraid they might try something on me. If I’m alone down on the other end of the tunnel, you know.”

Though I’m depressed by his evasive maneuver, the thought of food distracts my mom immediately. “How much do you have?”

“One and a half bottles of water.
A couple of packs of cookies. Just things I could fit into my pockets.”

“There are
some
in this tunnel who probably would try something,” my mom mumbles, and I’m not sure if she’s thinking of herself or Mrs. Potts. “Alright. You can sleep outside of the car. But I assume you’re planning on exchanging some of that food for our protection?”

I nearly laugh of the thought of my mom protecting Chris’s tall, athletic form from anything. But he takes her seriously.

“Absolutely,” he says, emptying his pockets.

The exchange complete, Chris opens my door for me, closing it gently when I’m safe inside. We’d agreed to do our best not to split up, and to stick close to the
twins just in case the plumbers try something. We’re still not sure what they know, if anything…but Chris is worried. Really worried.

Mr. Tara had seen guns. And we’re weaponless. The plumbers have plenty of food and water, but we’re nearly resource-less. And
although rescue, we know, is almost literally on the horizon…

We still have hours to wait.

Chris settles down, back to my door, though I know he’s not going to sleep. My mom is happy enough with our food supply to divvy some out to me and the girls. The twins munch quietly for a few minutes, and then I curl their jackets over them so they can fall asleep.

I try to read for a while, but I can’t. My mind keeps playing back the events of the past week, everything that’s led us to this night.
The three plumbers on the side of the road. The tunnel’s collapse. Phil’s lie that they had all been riding together. My worries about Chris, and his confession in the ventilation system. The poker games with the plumbers, and Chris winning them over. Mr. Tara’s death. My and Chris’s fake relationship. Phil’s renewed suspicion. Our first kiss.

I trace my lips, remembering. Chris had kissed me, long and passionately.
Like a real boyfriend. But when my mom had asked him if he’d come see me outside of the tunnel, he’d avoided her question. Is our relationship still fake, then? He hadn’t said otherwise. It probably is still …still just a charade designed for our safety, destined to fall apart the second we get out of here.

And
that kiss…that kiss was just him being nice. Making up for what happened in front of Phil.

Chris is always being nice. I shouldn’t be surprised.

And yet the knowledge hurts, making my heart thud painfully in my chest. It’s true what my mom had said…I’m not the type of girl that could keep him interested outside of this tunnel. I’m just quiet, rational, shy Emily. I’ll have to add broken-hearted to the list of adjectives in a few more hours, I suppose.

If I had any kind of backbone, I’d demand an answer from him tonight, instead of waiting for the pain tomorrow will bring.
Where do we stand?
I’d say, looking him straight in the eye.
Do you like me? Are we going to see each other again? Did you feel how I felt when we shared our first kiss?

I let out a heavy sigh, knowing another adjective I’d left off the list.
Unadventurous.
I won’t even risk asking him about it.

“Still thinking of your lover boy?” my mom interrupts my thoughts. Hea
d resting back against the headrest, eyes closed, her voice is low and critical.

I flush, knowing Chris is just outside, able to hear every word.

“He’s, umm, he’s not my—“

“Emily. I know what’s been going on since we’ve been down here in this tunnel. But you better be prepared – back home, I make the rules. You follow them. No more sneaking off. No more hoarding food. No more hiding
notes and letters. And no more boyfriend.”

“I…I understand,” I whisper, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whether or not those are the rules, I won’t have a boyfriend when I leave this tunnel anyway.

I’d nearly forgotten the note I’d written this morning, though it now feels like forever ago. I’m glad I didn’t leave it in the car – my mom would have torn our small sedan apart looking for it.

I pat the pocket of my skirt gratefully as I lean back in my seat. But I stop.

All I feel is cloth.

Reaching quickly into my pockets, I search first one, then the other.

No paper. No note.

I’ve lost it.

Though her eyes are closed, I’m sure my mom can sense my movement as I squirm around in my seat, looking everywhere for the small folded paper. Not on the carpet, not in between the cushions. Not in with the other papers, either.

Where is it?

My hands feel frantic as I lift up the bottom of my black tank top, searching my waist, feeling my pocket liners for holes. I search the glove box, the cup holders, looking all around the car for it.

“Mom,” I say at last, my voice shaking. “You didn’t find my letter, did you?”

This finally gets her to open one eye. “It’s
that
secret? No, I didn’t find it. If I did, I’m sure I would have learned way more than I wanted to know.”

The color drains from my face.

“What?” she says, opening both eyes now to frown at me. “You must have dropped it outside of the car. I haven’t seen anything in here.”

Oh no.

Oh, God no.

Scrambling for the door handle, I wrench it open, nailing Chris in the back. “I’m sorry!” I say as he groans, scooting out of the way so I can open my door fully.

“I’m not going to make it out of here alive at this rate, Champ,” he says, rubbing at his lower back and grimacing.

“You have no idea,” I say, closing my door and moving quickly.

My eyes scan the ground, looking everywhere for the folded white slip of paper. What had I written, exactly? That we suspected the plumbers of destroying the tunnel? That we had evidence? That we feared for our lives?

Oh, please let me find that note.

I retrace my steps from that morning, walking down the tunnel with knees bent and eyes searching wildly. Nothing near Hannah Avery’s car, nor by the Expedition.

Could someone have found it? Did someone pick it up?

“What’s wrong, Emily?” Chris grabs my elbow, stopping me.

“It’s the note. The letter. The one I wrote after we talked last night.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “That’s what your mom was talking about?”

I nod, feeling faint.

“It’s missing?”

I nod again.

Chris is all action, bending to look under every rock, down every crevice, as we work our way down the tunnel. There’s a chance that it hasn’t been seen yet by the plumbers. There’s a chance they don’t know how much we know. There’s a chance I didn’t just blow our one shot at survival – the secrecy we’ve worked so hard to protect.

But after what Phil did to us this morning…the chance seems incredibly slim.

We work quickly, reaching the middle of the tunnel. Fortunately the plumbers are all in the back of the truck, talking quietly, so they don’t see us scavenging the rocks. I check around the concrete bench, while Chris crawls around the other side. Our feet scuffle loudly on the pavement as we move rocks and dirt aside, searching frantically. We get to the circle of lawn chairs – just five now, since Chris was effectively kicked out of the group. I move forward to check under the chairs, terrified that I’ll find something this close to them.

“
Shh.” Chris stops me, placing his hand on my shoulder. Bent down next to the cargo space of the truck, we can just barely make out what the plumbers are saying.

“
…rescue team is coming tomorrow. It’s not like we got that much time to sit around and make decisions.”

“All I’m
sayin’ is, everyone has a price. If it’s just these two, why don’t we just pay ‘em off?”

“It’s cleaner that way.”

Fumbling, my hand reaches for Chris. Our fingers lock tightly around each other.
Cleaner than what?

“They
ain’t got a reason to stay quiet after we pay ‘em, though! They could spill as soon as we slip them the cash!”

“We
gotta take ‘em out. Hide the bodies.”

“And besides – there’s still that other one we need to take care of.”

Chris and I look at each other.
Are they…are they talking about the Governor?

“Maybe we should wait and ask the boss’s opinion? I just don’t think—“

“I’m the boss down here,” Phil interrupts, his voice slightly louder. “We were told when we signed up for this. Once we got down here, we’re on our own. No communication. No help. No nothing. It’s my call.”

“Seems to me,” says a voice that sounds like Henry, “that if we can’t take care of them two clean, then we probably
gotta take care of everyone else. Get rid of ‘em all. Leave no witnesses.”

I put a hand over my mouth, terrified at what I’m hearing. Chris pulls me away, backing us quickly behind Simon Tara’s car. Out of sight.

“Chris…Chris they’re going to kill everyone. My sisters!”

“
Damn. I know. Just…just relax for a second. They haven’t made any decisions yet.”

“They’re about to! They’re deciding right now – to kill just us, or to kill everyone in this tunnel! Chris, I’m so sorry – I-I can’t believe I lost that note. I c-can’t believe they found it!”

“It’s not your fault, Emily,” he says, taking me into his arms. I’m shaking, I realize numbly, as he rubs his hands up and down my back. His heartbeat thuds softly under my ear, pressed as I am against his chest. I can feel his voice vibrate as he whispers over me. “Phil’s been suspicious of us this entire time. No matter what we did, ever since Simon Tara, he just couldn’t stop worrying that we might know something, too. Champ, it…it probably would have come down to this anyway.”

I shake violently in his arms, the finality of his words tearing at my heart.
I think numbly of my failure a week ago, how I’d let my friends down at the Math League competition – how trivial it all seems now. I lost a trophy and some scholarships for my teammates, but here…I’ve lost everyone their lives.

My mom, my poor sweet sisters.
Cranky Mrs. Potts. The Rodriguez family. Hannah Avery. The hikers. The Governor.
Chris.
I gave the plumbers just the proof they needed to act.

I close my eyes tightly, terrified of what’s to come. The rescue team won’t arrive until tomorrow.
What time is it now? Midnight? One in the morning? Maybe two?

My head spins, my heart pounding heavily. If the rescue team gets here early in the morning, we could maybe hold out till then. Five, six, maybe seven hours…we could hide, we could bargain, we could distract them. Something.

Could we make it twelve hours? Another day? What if the rescue team got off target? Could we hold out against the plumbers long enough to make it out of the tunnel alive?

No…no.
As soon as they come to a decision, they’ll get out their guns and…and they’ll act. We don’t have hours…we have minutes.

I feel Chris take in a heavy breath, feel him shake slightly as he holds me to him. His arms tighten
around me just a little, as if he’s picturing what’s to come. I settle more closely to him, pressing my cheek against the warm skin of his neck, drawing from his strength. Fake relationship or not, we need each other right now. Clinging to each other in the pale, steady light, time seems to melt away.