“Which is why you shouldn’t have walked through it.”
“Come on.” She stepped back into the wall. Darkness swallowed her up.
I don’t want to go in no stupid ass wall with fucking rats and spiders and shit. We’re sitting in a castle and of course, you find the one place in it that has all the rats and shit.
I ducked my head inside and scowled. Spider webs crowded the area. It was clear many people hadn’t used it. In fact, Valentina, Oleg, and Em might’ve been the secret tunnel’s first passengers in several years.
A moldy scent thickened the air.
I wore a skeptical expression. “Man, this shit won’t be good for our lungs.”
Em did as she would with the tunnels. She kept on moving. When she hit this mode, Daryl and I would always have to race after her. She remained too consumed with the mystery of what lay in the darkness.
I climbed further in, ducking my head even more. The painting shut on its own behind me. I gripped the gun tighter and followed Em as she held her phone in front, the flashlight app on. Light beams shot out and led the way.
Why would Valentina or even Em be fine with walking back here? This shit is creepy.
Thankfully, the ground was cement. Whoever had the castle had modernized this part. While it didn’t seem like many walked it, this section had been used before.
Shadows covered the whole space. In some areas, light, air, and noise slipped through the cracks in the stone.
“There’s more on the blueprint,” Em said.
“More what?”
“Ways to go inside and out the castle. Many of the hidden doors are camouflaged as other things—fireplaces, sliding bookcases, paintings. There’s a trapdoor in the banquet area.” Excitement dotted her voice. “I peeked in but saw a rug over where I assumed it’s at.”
“You peeked in from where?”
“The fireplace.”
“In the banquet room’s fireplace, there’s a hidden passage?”
“Yes, and a trapdoor on the floor.” She grinned in the shadowy light. “It’s a maze shaped like a castle. Most of the passageway leads to an underground water source. I don’t know if I’ll have time to check it out, but—”
“Other people hike when they travel. You go through mold and rat-infested tunnels.”
“Everyone needs a hobby.”
We walked several feet in silence. There was no need to ask her what she was doing. Whenever she was in a new home or surroundings, she spent the day searching for alternate ways to get out of it. She always needed three or four escape routes before she could lay down her head and relax.
Em did that the first time she arrived at a foster home, and that habit had continued. When we slept at a new library, she worked overtime searching for the back exits and service entrances. If we stayed in a hotel in one of the other boroughs, she made sure it was right between an elevator, stairwell entrance, and fire exit.
Actually, I was shocked she’d done so well on the plane. Surely, she’d had a parachute in the room with her while she spent time with the Russian.
But there was no need to ask her what she did with him either. We all could hear the moans fill the plane. At times, it made me jealous. Other times, I remained relieved and happy that she hadn’t killed him. If we landed and he was dead, there was no amount of drawing smiley faces on a dead body that could save us.
Tension rose in my chest. Since the Russian had stepped into our life, each day had seemed easier, yet more anxious. Shit was going too easy. It could make us relaxed and not on guard.
Em paused, turned off the flashlight app, and switched back to the blueprints on her screen. “According to this, if we walk twenty feet and go either in the right or left direction, we have an exit.”
“Where does it take us to?”
“The South Gate.” She pointed to it on the blueprint. “I think that’s where we came in.”
“Me too.”
She switched back to the flashlight app.
“Are you good now?” I asked. “You’ve got some ways out of here, if you need it.”
Her bottom lip quivered. “Yes.”
I wasn’t convinced, so I tried to soothe her. “Someone comes for you, stabilize them, go through the painting, hit a left or right after twenty feet, and then you’re free. Or you can do it the easy way and just come to my room.”
She kept a neutral expression and looked away from me. “You’ll be running with me.”
“Of course. We stay together.”
Noise sounded in the distance. We must’ve been close to the dining area or kitchen. Female chatter slipped through some of the cracked stone.
I could barely see Em, but I could feel her. Feel her just like we were one. Em breathed in and out, her chest rising and falling in a beautiful rhythm, and I swore I took in the oxygen too. A torrent of feelings moved inside of me.
One day, I wished that I could just have one friendly emotion when it came to her. That surely was the normal way to love someone. Instead, confusion lay in my heart whenever we had these moments, these silent instances in the darkness. In Harlem, we stood together in the quiet at the darkest part of a tunnel. In Prague, we stood together in a secret passageway hidden by ancient paintings and rich tapestry-covered walls.
Confusion came with Em.
In these moments, I yearned to hold her. Regardless of my feelings—sometimes brotherly and other times horny—I needed to pull her into my arms and tell her everything would be okay. But, I couldn’t. My father had stolen her innocence long ago. He’d made her into a sweetly skilled monster, an intelligent criminal. He’d turned her into someone who never felt safe and was more comfortable in decaying darkness than out in the world.
I fisted my hands to the side, making sure I didn’t bring them too close to her. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Promise?”
“I do.”
“Did I mess up by bringing us here?”
“No. You saved us.”
“Should I trust him?” she asked.
“Him as in the Russian?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed down my envy and told her the truth. “Yes. I think he’s falling in love with you.”
Suddenly, she walked around me and hurried down the passageway.
“Em?” I followed.
She kept her voice low. “We should get back to the rooms.”
“Okay,” I said. “Cool.”
I’m scared of old tunnels and rats. You’re scared of love. I wish I could switch fears with you and love you less.
We returned to our rooms in silence.
So far, no problems had greeted us.
Yet, there were hints that mayhem would come our way.
I hope I’m wrong about that.
Five
Kazimir
My uncle and I sat in his bathhouse. Our men relaxed further behind us, donning their own robes. I spent time with Uncle Igor while thinking of Em. Already the space between us felt too far. Like an ocean was between us.
This moment with my uncle was necessary. He had eyes all over the globe like me, but I wouldn’t use my people yet. Many still believed I was dead. Now, with my appearance here, there would be rumors of my surviving the bomb. Stories will be created and mixed so much that there will be more fantastical elements than actual facts.