Page 67 of Irreversible

I wake to the incessant glare of fluorescent lights. There’s a fog in my head that comes from the kind of deep sleep I haven’t had since I can remember, and an ache in my balls that reminds me of the trip to an erotic fantasyland I took Everly on last night.

Gotta say, that was the last conversation I’d ever expect to have while being held captive by a twisted black-market ring, but no complaints.

I roll over and lay my hand on the wall. “You awake over there, Bee?”

“It’s late,” she answers. “Breakfast has come and gone, and I’ve been busy for hours.”

“Busy, eh?” I can’t help but chuckle at the innuendo running through my filthy mind. “You shouldn’t do that. Not with eyes on you constantly.” The camera in the corner looms like a threat.

“Oh, my God, give me some credit, will you?”

“I don’t know, you sounded pretty worked up last night. Thought you might have woken up and decided to blow off some steam.”

“Who’s to blame for that?” Thinly veiled laughter weaves through feigned annoyance. “And if I really wanted toblow off some steam,as you say, I’d pull up my blanket and no one would be the wiser. Don’t worry, I’m not over here putting on a show for the voyeurs.”

“I’m jealous of your blanket right now. It’s fucking freezing in here.”

“Yeah, well, you’d probably figure out how to kill someone with said blanket, and they know it. I only got mine once I convinced them I had too much will to live to commit suicide.”

“Fair enough. So, what’s been keeping you busy for hours?”

“Strategy. Plans. I’m not creative like you, but I’m trying. I’ve memorized the entry code to the door, in case it ever comes in handy.”

“Smart girl.” I’ve gone too long without a proper strategy, and it’s time to get creative. “I think it’s about time we took inventory of all our options.”

“I’m not strangling Roger with a blanket.”

“Nah, his neck is too thick. Unless you can trip him with it and hope he cracks his head open falling, having you take out the ogre isn’t on my list.”

But that doesn’t mean we can’t still use him…

“I need to knowwhatwe have to work with first, then we can look athow.”

“There’s a barrette. I considered using it as a weapon at one point when that awful nurse came in to give me an injection. Thought about jabbing her in the eye.”

“There’s a thought.” The visual of Everly scooping out the bitchy nurse’s eyeball is mildly entertaining.

“I’m glad you find that funny. I had nightmares for a week thinking about it. Eventually, I decided it was more likely to get me killed.”

She’s not wrong. And while I might be able to make a tool like that work in my favor, expecting Everly to turn into a deadly assassin by way of hair accessories is probably something that works better in movies.

“All right, let’s come back to that one. What else? Anything metal? Sharp objects?”

“Let’s see.”

She begins rifling through her collection, and for a long time, we get lost discussing her treasure trove of the dead.

Maybe, if we’re lucky, one of them can help us.

15

With my gun leading the way, I navigate the basement stairs of an old house I don’t remember entering. Shadows call to me in voices from the past. People I’ve lost, loved…failed. The staircase is never-ending, growing darker as I go. Even so, I descend further into my doom.

A hand shoots out between steps, locking onto my ankle like a shackle. It’s accompanied by a voice from nowhere.

“Have you forgotten about me already, Tanner?”

“Porter?” My foot slips.

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