Page 96 of Irreversible

Holy shit.

I whip my head right as my heart ricochets inside my torn-up chest. I hear my blood pumping in my ears, my pulse in overdrive.

I move.

Scampering to the door, I reach for the handle and pull, over and over. “Isaac! What are you doing here?”

“Code.”

My brain feels like scrambled eggs. “I-I… three, two, four…”

Beep, beep, beep.

“I think…eight?” I’ve memorized the tonal composition of the first three digits, but the fourth number has always remained elusive. It’s farther away from the others.

Beep.

I tug on the handle.

Nothing.

Panic buzzes through my veins as tears glide down my cheeks in salty streaks. “Isaac… You came back.”

He presses the numbers again, but they don’t work.

I choke out another cry and press my forehead to the metal door. “Try nine.”

Error.

“Seven.”

Error.

“Fuck,” he curses, his panic evident. “Stupid fucking thing.Goddammit.”

I hear him shimmying the handle.

So close. One number away.

My knees wobble as I bounce up and down, frantic. “Please, hurry. Oh, God…”

In another second, I’ll see him. He’ll take my hand, and we’ll run. We’ll breach the other side of these walls together.

I start second-guessing the first order of numbers as we both jiggle the door handle with sickly desperation. “Try two, three, four…”

“I’m such an idiot.” He practically growls the words as he fumbles through more number sequences. “Fuckingidiot.”

I sob his name. “Isaac…”

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

Error.

“This is stupid. This is so fucking stupid?—”

“I would have to agree with you there.” Another voice registers; a different voice.

The monster. Our sentencer.

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