The Art of Deception

a chair and smashed it against the window. The glass cracked, but held. Again, he rammed the chair, and again, until with a final heave, the glass shattered. Moving quickly, he went back for Kirby and held her head near the jagged opening.
    “Breathe,” he ordered.
    For the moment she could do nothing else but gulp fresh air into her lungs and cough it out again. “Someone’s locked us in, haven’t they?”
    He’d known it wouldn’t take her long once her head had cleared. Just as he knew better than to try to evade. “Yes.”

    “We could shout for hours.” She closed her eyes and concentrated. “No one would hear us, we’re too isolated up here.” With her legs unsteady, she leaned against the wall. “We’ll have to wait until someone comes to look for us.”
    “Where’s the main valve for that heater?”
    “Main valve?” She pressed her fingers to her eyes and forced herself to think. “I just turn the thing on when it’s cold up here…. Wait. Tanks—there are tanks out in back of the kitchen.” She turned back to the broken window again, telling herself she couldn’t be sick. “One for each tower and for each floor.”
    Adam glanced at the small, old-fashioned heater again. It wouldn’t take much longer, even with the broken window. “We’re getting out of here.”
    “How?” If she could just lie down—just for a minute… “The door’s locked. I don’t think we’d survive a jump into Jamie’s zinnias,” she added, looking down to where the chair had landed. But he wasn’t listening to her. When Kirby turned, she saw Adam running his hand over the ornate trim. The panel yawned open. “How’d you find that one?”
    He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her forward. “Let’s go.”
    “I can’t.” With the last of her strength, Kirby braced her hands against the wall. Fear and nausea doubled at the thought of going into the dark, dank hole in the wall. “I can’t go in there.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    When he would’ve pulled her through, Kirby jerked away and backed up. “No, you go. I’ll wait for you to come around and open the door.”
    “Listen to me.” Fighting the fumes, he grabbed her shoulders. “I don’t know how long it’d take me to find my way through that maze in the dark.”
    “I’ll be patient.”
    “You could be dead,” he countered between his teeth. “That heater’s unstable—if there’s a short this whole room would go up! You’ve already taken in too much of the gas.”
    “I won’t go in!” Hysteria bubbled, and she didn’t have the strength or the wit to combat it. Her voice rose as she stumbled back from him. “I can’t go in, don’t you understand?”
    “I hope you understand this,” he muttered, and clipped her cleanly on the jaw. Without a sound, she collapsed into his arms. Adam didn’t hesitate. He tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder and plunged into the passageway.
    With the panel closed to cut off the flow of gas, the passage was in total darkness. With one arm holding Kirby in place, Adam inched along the wall. He had to reach the stairs, and the first mechanism. Groping, testing each step, he hugged the wall, knowing what would happen to both of them if he rushed and plunged them headlong down the steep stone stairway.
    He heard the skitter of rodents and brushed spider-webs out of his face. Perhaps it was best that Kirby was unconscious, he decided. He’d get her through a lot easier carrying her than he would dragging her.
    Five minutes, then ten, then at last his foot met empty space.
    Cautiously, he shifted Kirby on his shoulder, pressed the other to the wall, and started down. The steps were stone, and treacherous enough with a light. In the dark, with no rail for balance, they were deadly. Fighting the need to rush, Adam checked himself on each step before going on to the next. When he reached the bottom, he went no faster, but began to trace his hand along the wall, feeling for a switch.
    The first one stuck. He had to concentrate just to breathe. Kirby swayed on his shoulder as he maneuvered the sharp turn in the passage. Swearing, Adam moved forward blindly until his fingers brushed over a second lever. The panel groaned open just enough for him to squeeze himself and his burden through. Blinking at the sunlight, he dashed around dust-covered furniture and out into the hall.
    When he reached the second floor and passed Cards, he didn’t break stride. “Turn off the gas to Kirby’s