I hit the balcony hard, and stumble, but I’m safe.
Angel’s smile is lopsided and manic. “You’re coming with me?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m coming, too.”
“I knew you got it. They haven’t sucked you in yet.”
His eyes trail past me as he speaks. I think he’s looking at the sky, but then Zach calls for me in alarm. I turn around to see a pair of legs dangling from the upper balcony.
“Jesus, Zach!” I dart forward and stand between his legs and my balcony’s ledge, so I can steer his landing. Jon’s worried face is peeking over the balcony ledge, and his hand is outstretched toward Zach just in case.
“Okay,” I say. “Drop. I’ve got you.”
Zach lands between my arms. We both turn to Angel, who’s decided to try the balcony door. To my relief, it opens. One terrifying balcony leap was enough for tonight.
He stumbles inside, and Zach and I follow into the pitch-dark room. The bed is unmade, but the room is empty. Thank god for the thriving Budapest nightlife. Saturday Breaking and Entering is the last headline we need right now.
“You know,” Zach says loudly. “I think Jon’s idea was good. Let’s go up to his room and get him drunk!”
Angel either doesn’t hear him or ignores him, still muttering to himself about Chorus. He bursts through the front door into the hallway, with Zach and me on his heels. I already know where we’re going. The fire exit.
Zach pulls out his phone. I expect him to message Jon, but instead he starts a FaceTime call with him. Of course—so Jon and the guards know exactly where we are. I’m impressed.
Jon answers as we start down the fire escape stairs, but before he speaks, Zach holds a finger to his lips. Then he taps the screen to turn the video around and film us as we run.
The escape opens into a dimly lit underground garage filled with cars. Angel turns in a circle, looking for an exit, and I wonder if Zach and I should just tackle him. Together, we could surely take him. But I’m not sure how violent Angel might be in this state. I don’t want to hurt him. And if he hurt Zach because of a call I made, I’d never forgive myself. So, I decide, we just stall him. Jon and the guards can’t be more than a minute off. The guards will know how to deescalate this.
“So, where do you wanna go?” I ask Angel in the calmest voice I can muster. My phone starts to vibrate again, and it speeds my heart rate even more. Focus, I need to focus, and I can’t focus with Mom trying to reach me, because when Mom’s mad at me, bad things happen. I try to ignore the buzzing. I try.
Angel stops turning and blinks at me. “Far. We just need to get far away. Somewhere they can’t get us. Come on.”
At the last word, he breaks into a run, sprinting through the rows of parked cars. Crap. “Wait,” I say. “Where’s the exit? Where are we going?”
“It’s … there’s gotta be one. Help me. We’ve got to find one. Now. Ruben, hurry. They’re going to find us, and they’ll lock us away. We need to get away.”
“It’s just a temporary restriction, Angel. It’s not forever.”
“It is forever. They’ll never let us go, Ruben.”
“Come on. You know that’s not true.”
Angel slows to catch his breath and swings around. “You’re not dumb. You know. You … you know, and you don’t say it. But I know you see it. You can see what they’re doing to us.”
Zach tugs on my coat sleeve as he reaches me. “They’re in the fire escape,” he says below his breath. I nod with as much subtlety as I can muster.
“What are they doing to us?” I ask gently. I know the answer, but keeping him talking nonsense is the only way to stall.
Angel’s laugh is high pitched and frantic. It bursts out like a howl. “We are their prisoners! And they won’t stop, so we have to run. Help me find the exit. Quick!”
Zach lowers his phone and steps forward. “We’ve only got to get through the rest of the tour. Then it’ll be back to normal.”
“Normal?” Angel spits. “When’s it ever been normal?”
“Before. It wasn’t so bad.”
“Before.” Angel runs a hand through his sweaty hair, and glances around us to check for spies. He looks afraid. Terrified, really. “Three years ago I was called Reece.”
“Angel—” I say.
“I was called Reece,” he shouts, his face contorting. “They took my name from me! And you think they’re going to let you come out on your own fucking terms? You’re both fucking deluded!”
A door slams with a heavy clang of metal behind us. The three of us snap our heads up. Beyond the rows and rows of cars are Erin, Jon, and four guards.
“No,” Angel says, turning on his heel.
Zach, who was still catching his breath, lets out a frustrated sigh as we give chase again. “I’m gonna kill him in the morning,” he pants to me. “Making me … jump off a fucking balcony … run laps around a freaking garage…”
We round a corner, and suddenly an exit sign comes into view. Erin’s yells echo through the garage as she pleads with Angel to slow down. Angel stumbles through the door, and Zach and I follow him. Erin’s voice is abruptly cut off as the door swings closed.
The night air has a fierce bite to it. Not cold enough for snow, but the wind still stings my cheeks, and I can feel my breath as it travels down my chest, the frigid air scraping against my lungs. I button my coat with prickling fingers and brace myself against the chill. Zach hugs his arms to his chest and stands behind me to take shelter from a gust of wind.
Angel’s not wearing a coat. I doubt he feels the cold at all. His eyes dart around rapidly, then he rushes toward the street. Toward light.
I don’t like where this is going.
“Angel,” I say urgently. “Not this way. That’s the main street.”
He ignores me.
“There are people camped out here.”
“We can hide in the crowd. Yeah. We’ll … they won’t be able to find us in the crowd.”
“No, we’ll get mobbed by the crowd.”
Angel’s voice is shaky, desperate. “Shut up.”
“He’s right, Angel,” Zach says.