My lips and chin tremble. I am starting to hyperventilate. “Get me out.” I scrape my hands against the floor, and debris cuts into my skin.
“Working on it,” he says. “Listen to me. I need you … to open your eyes just for a minute, and see if you’re able to move anything.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, but it sounds like I’m blubbering.
“Yes, focus on my voice and do it.”
“But what if … ”
“I’m not going anywhere without you. Even though you can’t see me, I’m right here.”
Opening my eyes, I’m immediately lightheaded. The room spins, and I see black spots. “I’m going to pass out.”
“Oh hell no. Don’t do that. Breathe, deep breaths … slow deep breaths. You’re strong; you can do this.”
My arms shake when I try to move a piece of cement; my muscles feel like jelly. I try again but with no luck.
“It won’t budge,” I say.
“It’s all right,” he says in a not-so-calm voice this time. “Just give me a minute to think. There’s no need to panic.”
“Too late.”
I run my hand down the wall, and sweat makes my fingers slip off. Ash covers my arms and hands, making a thick, filmy layer on my skin. I taste the thick, dry paste coating the inside of my mouth. Yup, here we go. I’m going to puke. I turn and heave, but only saliva-thickened ash comes out. That’s new.
I pull my legs to my chest and rest my forehead on my knees. I hear Cole moving chunks of concrete. But then I hear someone or something moving around on the other side of the back wall. The movement stops.
“Cole,” I say through my clenched jaw.
“Yeah?” he asks, slightly muffled.
“How long?”
“Not sure,” he says.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice some of the rubble moving in one little area, and then Zeus’s paw breaks through.
“Zeus.”
I scoot forward and reach out to touch him, wrapping my hands around his paw. His pads are rough, almost like sandpaper, and his nails are worn down to almost nothing. He whimpers, and he doesn’t pull back his foot, almost like he knows I need a paw to hold on to.
“Not good.” Cole grunts, and I hear something scrape across the floor. A giant crashing noise follows. “Damn it,” Cole says.
“Now what?”
“I’m not gonna lie,” he says. “This might take a while.”
I say nothing in response. Zeus whimpers, and I hold on to him. On the other side of my prison, Cole’s feet drag back and forth. I imagine he’s working as fast as he can, but from my end, nothing looks like it’s opening up. I close my eyes and hum a tune to calm my nerves.
Pretty soon, I notice it’s getting darker. The sun is setting. How long have we been here? I try shifting my position, but my tiny cell doesn’t allow me to stretch out my aching legs. I lick my lips, but my tongue’s dry and scratchy.
“Cole?” My voice comes out raspy.
“What?”
“Can you hand me your water?”
“How?”
“Through the hole Zeus made.”
“Huh? Zeus made a hole?”
“Um yeah, I’ve been holding his paw.”
“What the heck? Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds exhausted. I’m furious with myself for needing to be rescued.
“I figured you knew.”
“How would I … Never mind. Hold on. Zeus, move your paw.” But Zeus growls at Cole as he pulls his paw out of my hand. “Geez, controlling much? She’s mine too, you know.”
I picture Zeus lowering his chin to his chest, but keeping his eyes on Cole. He does that when Cole annoys him.
Cole’s bloody hand comes through the hole, and he grabs my fingers.
“Thank God,” he says as he gives my hand a squeeze. I don’t want to let go. “If you want water, I need my hand back.”
“Sorry.”
“Here.” He shoves a small canteen through the slit. It’s warm going down my throat, but it takes the pasty crap with it.
“Thank you.” I push it back through the hole, and immediately Zeus sticks his paw back through so I can hold it. “Any progress?”
Cole’s silent at first, and I bite my lip. “I’m going to die in here, aren’t I?”
“No,” he says.
“I’m gonna lose it soon.” Sweat pours down my face, back, and chest. I feel warmth throughout my body, and my ears burn.
I rest my head back on the wall and wait for it.
“Look what’s here,” he says.
Keegan places his palms against the tall bureau and pushes it along the wall. The knobby legs wobble as it catches on the carpet in his bedroom. A small, wooden door appears out of nowhere.
“Wow, when did you find it?” I ask.
“Just last night,” he says. Keegan bends over, putting his hands on his thighs, catching his breath. “The door’s stubborn as nails, but I eventually got it open. It takes you to the hallway, near the fire escape.”
“You snuck out?” I ask, my voice squeaking at the end.
“Shhhhh,” he says and quickly locks his bedroom door before returning to jam open the secret passageway. I peek inside, noting the thick cobwebs through the darkness.