I can’t believe it’s another ladder. Climbing one by myself is unnerving enough, but taking my sister up this seems impossible. I’m not strong enough, and I need both hands to climb. Yet I have to find a way. I can’t leave her behind, not even for a minute to see what’s above.
A drip falls with a plink somewhere nearby. I need a sling of some sort, but all I have are my clothes and hers. I try settling her over my shoulder to see if that will work, but we’re top-heavy and awkward. I gingerly settle Dubbs at my feet so I can take my scrub pants off and wind them into a bulky rope. Then I wrap the rope around my back and over one shoulder. I hug Dubbs against my chest at an angle and tie the rope behind her, under her arms, so we’re knotted into a hug. It’s bad. One of her arms is awkwardly under my chin, but I can basically brace her weight on one leg at a time while I use my arms to reach up. In any case, if we fall, we’ll fall together.
I take a deep breath and a last look up to the top, and then I start precariously climbing up the ladder with Dubbs. With my left knee bearing most of her weight and my left hand gripping tight to a rung, I can reach higher with my right hand to advance up once more. Then I do it again, and again. And again. I swear Dubbs gains ten pounds with each rung. Sweat breaks out all over me. Dubbs’s head lolls back, into the ladder, and I have to bounce desperately to bring her face back against me. The ladder groans inauspiciously. We’re only halfway up, and my muscles are already dying, but I call on my innate brute stubbornness and refuse to give up.
Rung over rung, I haul my sister higher. I think of nothing but the next grip, the next shift of her weight. I’m panting hard. Every muscle strains and burns, but I keep reaching up. I keep finding the next metal rung.
A shaft of white sunlight lands on my fingers. I’m getting close to the top. A wild, unexpected eagerness barrels around in my chest and sends my heart pounding so hard that I can barely breathe. I grit my teeth and hold tight to the ladder with both hands, but that’s even worse. My muscles strain with pain.
“Stop this!” I say. “We have to get out!”
My inner stampede checks itself, and then a new infusion of strength surges through my muscles. My grip is suddenly strong, as if the force of my will has been forged into iron. I pull up on the next rung and keep going, rung over rung, until I reach the top of the ladder.
Two small circles of light, the size of my fists, greet me, and they’re surrounded by a circle of smaller holes, too. I’ve reached the underside of a maintenance hole cover, and through the closest circle is a glimpse of pale, peachy sky.
17
DOUBLE SCRUTINY
THE MAINTENANCE-HOLE lid is heavier than it looks. It takes me two tries to get the right leverage, and then I push it off with a grating, metallic sound. Mustering my last strength, I haul Dubbs out of the hole, and we collapse together on the ground. I’m utterly spent.
“We made it, Dubbs,” I whisper, amazed.
I take a quick look around, but we’re alone, and I’m happy for that, too. Smiling, I smooth the hair out of my sister’s relaxed face. She’s still sleeping, even though she’s shivering in her wet gown. She has no idea what we’ve gone through, mercifully. I reach behind her to the knot in my scrubs pants, and twist it to where I can see it while I work the fabric free. When my sister and I come loose from each other, I sit up to put my damp pants back on.
Above, leaves rustle softly. We’ve arrived not in the middle of Grisly Valley, but in a small stand of eucalyptus trees near a deserted, decaying road. Bark peels in colorful, untidy strips from the tree trunks, and the dust is covered in the detritus of fragrant, dewy leaves. Fresh early-morning air carries a hint of the ocean moisture, and around every shadow, sunlight is landing with clear, almost painful precision.
A greedy, happy tingle lights up the back of my brain. I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my wrist.
Yes, it’s good to be alive, I think.
The tingling sensation sends an extra current, as if to confirm my thought. It’s seriously strange. Unnerving, for sure. I’ve had some experience coexisting with another voice in my head, but this is a whole new level of strangeness.
It occurs to me as I rest there beside the maintenance-hole cover that I’ve just done something that I was physically incapable of doing. I’m not normally strong enough to carry Dubbs through a river with some kind of mutant fish creature, much less up a ladder like I just did. Besides, I should be weak from my captivity. I understand the strength of willpower and desperation, but that doesn’t seem like enough to explain what I’ve just done. Is it possible, I wonder, that the new presence in the back of my mind helped me rescue Dubbs and escape?
“Can you talk to me?” I ask out loud. “I used to have another voice that could talk to me. Are you like that?”
A stillness answers me inside, an inner readiness. Then my fingertips start to tingle and grow light, like they’ve been released from gravity. Letting the sensation guide me, I lift my right hand off Dubbs, and I stroke my fingers along my forehead and down my cheek like I did once before in my cell. It seems like a deliberate response, but I can’t guess what it means.
“Are you saying that’s you?” I ask.
My hand comes to the base of my throat and rests there gently. Affirmative.
Okay, it’s spooky. Definitely. My skin lifts in goose bumps. I’m not sure I want to believe it, actually. In any case, I can’t sit around talking to myself and pawing my own face. It’s only a matter of time before the doctors in the vault discover where I’ve gone.
Rising, I scoop Dubbs into my arms, and the full weight of her is a shock. I bite back a groan, and then I start along the old, pocked road. I need to find my car, I think, before I remember the doctors took it. I’ll need to come up with a proper plan, but for now, putting distance between me and the park is the most important thing.
My wet socks pick up nubs of dirt as I trudge along. The road winds up a forested hillside through the OEZ. Leaves flicker in the occasional breeze, and plenty of insects wing through the shadows, but there’s no sign of any birds or rodents. It feels strangely deserted. Too quiet.
Eventually, the road opens on a view of the Grisly Valley Theme Park, which is farther away than I expected. Once I have my bearings, I’m able to aim toward the outer fence of the OEZ, far in the distance. Once I’m there, I’ll beg a stranger for help, I guess, and try to get a ride back to Lavinia’s.