The Trap (The Hunt 3)

“Up here,” she says from the driver’s seat. She’s sitting on one side of the bench, leaving room for me to sit next to her. Our eyes meet and she holds my gaze. I hop on, sit beside her.

I grab the reins, slap them down. The carriage takes off, slowly, then faster as the horses break into a gallop. The ground blurs beneath us, green to brown. With every bounce, Sissy and I bump against each other. She slides closer to me, leaning against me. I press back slightly. Wind blows hard against our faces. We don’t speak as we push toward the distant skyscrapers. Back into the hornet’s nest. But Sissy is next to me, Sissy is with me, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Thirty-eight

IN THE HEART of the metropolis once again. The horses trot nervously along, hoofs stamping loudly on the hard concrete, their ears flicking. Everything feels too close: the shuttered store fronts, cafés, delicatessens, the towering skyscrapers flanking us like enclosing fingers. Absent is the sense of emptiness and desolation that had always attended my daytime visits. Now there is only the sense of millions hanging behind paper-thin walls of the steeled skyscrapers.

By the time I pull the horses over and tether them to a pole in front of the Domain Building, the sun has dropped more than halfway to the horizon. Shadows creep across the street as if clawing us. There is less than an hour of sunlight remaining. We walk to the front entrance, a set of wide revolving doors. Unlocked, like everything else in the daytime.

“That’s a lot of floors to cover,” Sissy says, her head tilting back as she looks upward.

“Sixty-four to be exact. But Epap said he was hiding in sunlight. We’ll only need to search the atrium and the top floor—those are the only two areas where sunlight can penetrate. ”

“What else is in that building?”

“A bunch of government bureaus. Laboratories and conference rooms and lecture halls. We avoid them, okay? Our approach is simple: search the atrium, then, if we have to, get in the glass elevator, head up to the top floor. We’ll be covered in sunlight the whole way up. And back down, of course, when we leave. ”

“With Epap, right?”

“With Epap. ”

Sissy nods. She takes out the TextTrans one last time. Nothing. She puts it back into her pocket, biting her lip. “You can leave now if you want, Gene. I can find my way around on my own. ” She places her hand on my forearm. “There’s no telling what’ll happen once it’s dark. This might be your last chance to get out of the metropolis alive. ”

“That’s not an option. ” I take out the two guns from the backpack, hand her one, tuck the other into my waist. “We both live or we both die, but we do it together. Understand?”

She holds my gaze for a moment. Then nods. We push through the revolving doors, and then we’re inside.

It is exactly as I remember it. The only slight difference is the lighting. Because it is later in the day than when my father and I usually ventured into the Domain Building, the sunlight is more diffused. Instead of the sharp noon light that would gush down the sixty-four-story atrium and set the lobby afire with spinning flares of light, an orange haze burnishes the inside.

Sissy stands amazed, briefly forgetful of the circumstances that brought us here.

“They designed this building to be the securest in the whole metropolis,” I tell her, gazing upward. “That’s why this glass atrium is so huge. And the top floor is all glass—all the top-secret documents are kept there. With so much sunlight, there’s no way a dusker can break in during the day hours. ”

“Well, day hours are about to end. Let’s get a move on. ”

I nod. But as she turns around, I grab her arm. “Wait. ”

“What is it?”

Something in the air. My head tilts down with concentration. Something off-kilter. My sixth sense, almost as reliable as any of my other senses, is ringing with alarm.

“Gene?”

Instead, I shake it off. “Stay in the sunlight,” I say.

“What is it?”

“Don’t know. Just stay in the sunlight at all times. Don’t be tempted into the dark for even a second. And let’s be quiet. Don’t call out for him too loudly. ”

Her face tenses. “Okay. ”

We start out on the north side in front of small delis and kiosks. In the corner, a shoe-polishing stand. Next to that, a newspaper stand. Nothing moves. Everything is devoid of movement, of life.

“Epap,” I hiss as loud as I dare. “Epap!”

Silence.

“The security desk,” Sissy says. “We didn’t check behind the counter. ”

“He’s not there. ”

“Did you check?”

I shake my head.

“I’ll just take a quick look. ” And she walks away, her strides short and nervous.

I peer into a small café. Chrome tables and chairs stare blankly back at me. Cautiously, I check behind the counter. Nothing. No one.

Sissy’s at the security desk, her head disappearing below the countertop. She’s being thorough, no nook left unsearched.

Ping.

That’s the sound I hear. A small electronic beep, barely audible.