Nothing.
The clock back in the living area seems to have doubled in size. All I hear is that watch hand clanging through each second like a death knell.
Closet is a bust.
I haul open the drawer in his nightstand. A bible, a spiral-bound notebook, hand lotion, condoms—
I freeze.
Condoms.
Condoms?
What the fuck—?
There’s no time, Trinity!
I slam the drawer shut, and try to will the sight of that black-and-gold packaging from my mind. I shove my hands under his mattress and shuffle all the way around the edge, grunting at how heavy it is.
Nothing.
I stick my head under his bed, and then crawl under when I realize it’s too dark for me to see.
I try not to imagine that there’s someone already under here, all the way at the back, reaching for me like I’m reaching for them.
Condoms?
Fuck it, concentrate!
Nothing. Bed’s a bust.
I’m about to crawl out again when my hand brushes against something.
A thousand spiders burrow into my hair. I let out a strangled scream and have to force myself not to cannon out from under the bed, yelling.
It’s just a bag, Trinity.
A bag hidden under his bed.
Jackpot!
I ruthlessly suppress the part of me that wants to wet itself and grab a fistful of the cloth bag, dragging it out with me as I crawl backward.
The closer I get to getting out, the more convinced I am that Gabriel is already standing in the room, waiting for me.
My heart is seconds away from exploding. I clear the last few inches and throw myself onto my back, clutching the bag to my chest like a shield in case Father Gabriel decides to pounce on me.
The room is empty.
No spiders in my hair.
Just condoms in the drawer.
I shove away the thought as I roll onto my knees and zip open the bag.
Gloves. A soft hat. A carton of cigarettes. A moleskin journal. Rolled up cables. A laptop.
A laptop.
I rip it out and flip it open. It doesn’t look new, but since I’ve only ever used the library’s clunky old desktop computers before, I wouldn’t wager anything on my knowledge of this shit. But to compare it to the sleek, black machine Apollo was setting up yesterday? Yeah, this thing is ancient.
The screen is blank. I hunt around the machine, finger raised, until I spot the power button.
I stab it.
The machine remains dead.
Tick-fucking-tock, Trinity.
I drag my fingers down my face and stab the button again.
Nothing.
Dad had a laptop too. Never used it, but heard him swearing at it all the time.
Dead battery.
Battery died.
Gotta plug it in.
Cables.
The cables!
My hands are shaking so hard that I drop the bundle of cables twice as I scramble over the floor to the nightstand.
There’s a lamp on it—has to be a power outlet nearby.
Tick. Fucking. Tock.
I yank the nightstand away from the wall, rip out the lamp’s plug, and shove in the laptop’s charger.
What time is it? How long has this all taken?
Don’t look at the time, it’ll only slow you down. They always get it wrong in the movies. Always looking back to see how far they’ve run, then—BAM! Dead.
Don’t die, Trinity.
I fumble with the other end of the charger, but I can’t get that tiny plug in that teeny little hole.
Stop.
Breathe.
Calm down.
Now try the fuck again.
It clicks into place.
“Fucking hallelujah.” My voice sounds hoarse and broken.
I stab the power button. The screen switches from black to gray.
“Oh God, please. Please.” I hike up the side of my dress and fumble in my underwear for the drive.
It’s not there.
I spin around, my eyes going wide. No. No! Did I drop it? Did it fall out while I was wriggling around under the bed?
PING goes the laptop.
My heart’s about to give out, but then my fingers brush the plastic cover. It shifted, but it’s still there.
The laptop’s whirring, but nothing else is happening. How slow is this thing?
I can’t stop myself.
I turn and look at the clock.
It’s five past eight.
I deflate like a balloon, my shoulders sagging as I let out a relieved sigh.
What the fuck are those condoms doing in the drawer?
I squeeze my eyes closed. What did Apollo say about this device? Did the computer have to be on all the way, or just powered up? He said I didn’t have to do anything, just plug it in, but when?
I guess it doesn’t matter. Sooner rather than later, right?
My fingers have turned into foot-long sausages. I drop the cap and spend several billion tick-fucking-tocks trying to get the stupid fucking drive into the stupid fucking slot.
When it finally slides into place like a greased pig, I glare at it.
No wonder people throw computers and shit against the wall. I’m stinking of sweat, never mind those fucking mothballs.
The screen starts spitting out letters.
Shit.
Shit!
Was this a virus or something? Was that the Brotherhood’s plan all along? But then I actually read the messages, and calm down a little. The computers in the library would spout shit like this too. Checking this, allocating that.
Normal. It’s all normal.
My gaze is inexorably drawn back to the clock.
Seven minutes past eight.
Fuck.
I drum my fingers against the laptop’s plastic frame. The Windows logo pops up, accompanied by a too-loud set of chimes that I’m sure Jasper heard back in our room.
Christ, I’m breaking out in hives.
Ten past eight.
This is ridiculous. There’s no way a computer can take this long—
A bright blue desktop pops open. Twenty or so folders and files scream for my attention.
I have no idea if the drive is doing its thing, but I can’t be bothered with it right now. I have about three minutes before I need to shove this thing back in its bag.
Three minutes to prove that Father Gabriel is a good guy.
Three fucking minutes.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zach
My timing was off. Instead of the five to seven minutes I’d thought it would take Gabriel to make his way down to the classroom. He gets here in three minutes.
Three fucking minutes.
Did he run track or some shit?
I think I’m hearing things when his shoes thump up the stairs. I barely get to the other end of the hall before he clears the stairs. My heart beats so loud in my chest, I’m shocked Gabriel doesn’t first stop to investigate the sound.
He races down the passage, a dark shape against the shadows. I’ve left the lights off to make it seem no one’s been here yet except Cass.
Hopefully, Cass heard him coming.
Muffled voices reach me. I make my way down the stairs, race across the downstairs hall, and then come up the other side where Gabriel entered.
By the time I skid to a halt outside class 2C, I’m panting.
I flick on the light, flooding the classroom white.
Gabriel is on the floor. The chair Cass had been standing on lies on its back a yard or so away.
“Father?”
Gabriel shifts at the sound of my voice, but he doesn’t look up. My chest is so tight, I can barely breathe. I like to think that I’m intelligent and cautious, but I just realized I’m an impulsive fucking idiot.