“There must be a loophole.”
“If there is, I haven’t found it.”
He saw it before Mena did, a shadow that filled the room, starting from the corner, and growing rapidly. He looked up to find the source and that’s when the bats hanging from the ceiling became visible. “Mena.”
She shrieked and jumped into his arms as the first mechanical bat swooped them. Not close enough to touch but close enough to make you think it might.
He went for the door and backed into the corridor, pulling her with him. Through the open doorway they could see the ceiling was swarming with bats and other crawly things. It was so realistic, Mena was shaking.
“I won’t let them get you.” He held her loosely with one arm at her back.
She thumped her forehead into his chest, her breath coming fast, half a laugh, half a sob. “Have I told you I hate you?”
It didn’t feel like hate to have her this close. “You might’ve mentioned it.”
“Do not leave me for anything.”
One day a woman might say that to him and mean it for real. “I won’t.” One day he might find a woman he’d want to say that to.
He knew now what kind of woman that needed to be. Someone smart and determined like Mena, someone fun who understood him, made him feel known, invincible like Philly had long ago.
He’d happily deal with all the spiders and creepy things for them and call it a future.
NINE
Grip’s body heat was comforting in this place of things that made your skin crawl. The escape experience was so incredibly well done, Mena totally bought in on it. Despite being edgy, okay, scared, she wanted to find out what came next, and with Grip alongside her, she didn’t feel like it was going to beat her.
He was a steady presence. He didn’t do anything to hype her fear, nor did he laugh unkindly at her when she twitched and jumped. Yes, they were touching, and it had given her a moment’s pause, but there really wasn’t anything sexual about it. Holding hands in the dark was practical and bumping against each other was almost guaranteed.
He’d just saved her from being swooped by mechanical bats that felt incredibly real. She looked up at him. “I’m ready.”
If there were clues, she was yet to find one, but she wasn’t done trying. She broke away and opened the door closest. It was storage. Full of suitcases. Most of which originated in the days before wheels. And cobwebs. Shudder. She closed the door but Grip stepped past her opened it again and retrieved a torch. “You never know.”
He had fake cobweb in his hair, she twitched to brush it off, just as well fake cobweb was spider adjacent, so no, just no.
There were two doors left at this end of this corridor. “I guess we have to go through one of these.” The one in front of her had the words Linen Press written on a sign that was badly attached and swung off one nail. She opened the other door just as Grip said, “Wait.”
The rotten egg gas smell that assaulted her was enough to make her gag. Slamming the door closed, she coughed and then choked out, “Linen Press it is.”
Grip stayed her hand before she opened the door. “I know what happens in this room.”
“Are there spiders?”
“No spiders.”
Sheet storage sounded benign. Not that anything was what it seemed here.
“The door locks and the room gets smaller.”
“How small?”
“Until we have to stand close.”
Oh, linen press. “For how long?”
“It’s quick. A hatch opens up and we have to crawl out of there. If you’re in any way claustrophobic, let’s go back the other way and pick another door.” He flashed the torchlight against a wall plaque that said the same thing in warning.
“I’m game.”