When the Shadows Fall by Elise Noble

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 40 - EMMY

OKAY, WHO SET off the fire alarm?

Shadow Falls Academy had eight music rooms, two of which were on the ground floor. Only the one in the west wing had bookcases, so by process of elimination, we had to be in the right place. One minute, Nate was trying to work out which bookcase to blow off the wall, and the next, bells were ringing. Fucking smoke detectors. Maybe one of the kids was burning their stash? We’d worn DEA windbreakers for fun, battered down the front door, and marched straight through the building. The handful of students we’d come across had leapt out of our way when Alaric barked that we were there acting on a tip-off.

“Just blow them all,” Ana said. “We have enough charges, da?”

Then the shelves nearest to me began to move.

“Quiet!”

Everyone caught the urgency in my voice, and it took mere seconds for them to stack up either side of the widening doorway. Someone dimmed the lights. What the fuck was that stink? I wrinkled my nose. A cross between a swimming pool and one of Sofia’s science experiments? Ah, chlorine gas. I glanced over at her and saw she was putting goggles on, then she cut her hand across her throat. Message received. Bad shit. Standard operating procedure meant we all carried lightweight goggles in our pockets, and I followed suit, breathing shallowly. Sofia was the expert at this. If and when we needed to leave, she’d tell us.

A shadowy figure stepped through the opening, and Rafael lived up to his nickname—Quicksilver—and grabbed him around the throat. I saw the silhouette of a gun pressed to the man’s temple. The second suspect went to Ana, the third to Alaric. Black had finally turned up, and he snagged a fourth. We waited another thirty seconds, but nobody else appeared. I turned the lights up again and wedged the piano stool into the gap in case the bookcase decided to slide back. Fia was already throwing the windows open.

Who had we caught?

Well, well, well… Ezra Rosenberg. I recognised Sky’s chemistry teacher as well, plus the track coach and a member of the kitchen staff. As I watched, Rafael fished a revolver out of Ezra’s waistband and stuck it into his own. There was a contingent of Americans who wanted to arm schoolteachers, but I wasn’t sure this was quite what they had in mind. Hmm, where to start? In situations like this, I always went straight for the big dog. Ezra almost doubled over when I kicked him in the nuts, and I say “almost” because Rafael soon snapped him upright again.

“Where’s Sky?”

That grunt wasn’t really an answer.

“Blonde, my height, kind of mouthy?”

Vomiting didn’t help either. I stepped to the side so it didn’t splash on my shoes and tsk-tsk-tsked.

“Would it help if I shot you in the kneecap?”

“I-i-in the cellar.”

“Whereabouts in the cellar?”

“A h-hundred yards? Two hundred? F-f-follow the passage. She’s locked in a room.”

Two hundred yards? Fuck, that was a big cellar.

“And where’s your brother?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was he down there?”

Ezra managed a nod.

“Is there another exit?”

No answer, but Ezra’s eyes gave him away. There was another exit.

“Where?”

Silence. Obstinate silence. I booted him in the shin, hard, and he sagged in Rafael’s arms as he fainted. Ah, fuck. Why did bad guys have such low pain thresholds?

“Where did all this gas come from?” I asked the next asshole.

“I-I don’t know.”

I was pretty good at holding my breath, but I didn’t fancy searching a massive cellar without a respirator, especially if there were other gun-toting miscreants skulking around down there. We’d have to go slowly, and chlorine gas was nasty stuff. When it came into contact with the moist tissues of your eyes, your throat, your lungs, it produced acid that ate away at the surfaces. It wasn’t great for your skin either. I’d need to shower as soon as I got out of here.

But first, we had a problem to solve. Luckily, someone out there had done us a favour. Above the jangling din of the fire alarm, I heard sirens. Fire trucks. And they’d have breathing equipment on board.

“Get these fuckers secured and move them to another room. We need to borrow gear and search the cellar. Fia, you take Rosenberg. See what else you can get out of him.”

If four people stayed above ground with the prisoners, that left six of us to venture underground. Actually, make that five.

“Where’s Silver?”

Ryder was trussing up Ezra now, flex cuffs on the fucker’s arms and ankles and duct tape everywhere else. He jerked his head towards the door.

“He went to check the Rosenberg residence.”

For fuck’s sake. I tried raising Rafael on the radio, but I only got a crackle in response. Bloody storm.

“He can take care of himself,” Black said.

“Yes, I know, but rescuing Sky is our most pressing problem right now. We need all hands on deck. Time’s ticking.”

“He’s gone to look for Saul. Ten bucks says there’s an exit at the house.”

“Fine.” I had to concede that did make a certain amount of sense, and there was a chance Saul could have taken Sky with him if she was incapacitated. “Let’s get the kit we need.”

We didn’t bother to ask the firefighters if we could use their stuff. Thankfully, they were too busy herding running students and trying to work out where the fire was to even notice us rummaging through the trucks. My coat was too big, and Black’s was a little tight across the shoulders, but the breathing apparatus worked just fine.

The gas was still thick as we descended into the bowels of the school, and the place sure lived up to its name. Dark, shadowy, ghouls hid in every corner. Ezra Rosenberg hadn’t been kidding about the distance either—the passages went on for what seemed like miles. I was impressed. It put the arrangement of tunnels underneath Riverley to shame. But we’d done ours with an excavator, and here it looked as if a small army had carved the maze out of the limestone rock a million years ago, so I guess they’d had a head start. Fifty yards in, I tripped over a body. When I flipped her over with my foot, I recognised Saul Rosenberg’s assistant. Ah, well. Saved me a job later.

We carried on.

What was this place? Through the haze, the passage opened into a cavern. Some pretentious prick had even installed a fucking chandelier.

“Is this a church?” I asked. “Are those pews?”

“A synagogue,” Xav told me. “That closet looks like the Aron Kodesh.”

“The what?”

“The Holy Ark. The place where they keep the Torah scrolls. My people have been persecuted all their lives. Some decided it would be safer to worship underground.”

“Literally underground?”

“In this case, it appears so.”

No, in this case it appeared they’d lost their faith entirely. The Holy Ark and most of the pews were covered in a thick layer of dust and the odd cobweb. Nobody had worshipped there recently, that much was clear.

“Do they all keep stolen shit in a side room too?” Ana asked. “These are paintings, yes?”

I ran over to take a look. Holy hell, again quite literally. I read the scribbles on the first crate. Hieronymus Bosch—The Last Judgement. There had to be over a hundred wooden boxes in that room, most of them slim and flat enough for paintings. The Master wasn’t just a thief, he was a bloody hoarder. But the paintings weren’t the priority tonight.

“Sky isn’t in here. Keep looking.”

“I found the source of the chlorine,” Sofia said from across the room. “And this dead guy has two phones in his pocket. Is one of them Sky’s?”

It was—she had a picture of my cat as her screensaver and the “I’m Sunshine with a chance of Hurricane” sticker on the back came courtesy of Bradley. The dead guy on the floor could have been Sky’s handiwork too, but where the hell was she?

“Clump of long blonde hair caught on the door frame over here,” Dan called. “Might be Sky’s.”

“Get after her.”

I was about to follow, but movement by the passage from the music room caught my eye. The enemy? I got my gun up, then lowered it just as quickly. It was Black. Better late than never, but what did he have in his hands? The gas cloud shifted in a draught, and I got a clearer look.

That cunning, conniving, devious motherfucker. I had to hand it to him. That was slick. Real slick. As soon as the remainder of the team disappeared through the far doorway, he stepped forward.

“Put them in there,” I told him, pointing to the side room Ana had found.

He didn’t hesitate, just strode inside and stacked his offerings with the rest of the loot. One wooden box and one aluminium briefcase.

“You kept the pay-off all this time?”

“Thought it might come in useful one day.”

“I don’t know whether to kiss you or kill you.”

“If you don’t do the first, you might as well do the second.”

I stared at him for a beat, considering. I’d told Black to fix things for Alaric and he had, but Sky was still missing, and if anything had happened to her…

Black could wait. I turned and ran after the others.