Page 145 of A Breath of Life
“Shit. Motherfucking shit,” I hissed.
I shone the screen light over the door’s surface, but it was solid.
Tallus grabbed the lock in his fist and yanked with a ridiculous display of force as the tendons at his neck strained. It would have been comical under normal circumstances. Who did he think he was? The Hulk? To his surprise—and my own—the lock popped open, and Tallus tumbled against me with the momentum.
“Whoa. Did you see that?” He stared at his hands like they were magical.
“It wasn’t locked.”
“Yes, it was.”
Now wasn’t the time to argue. We got lucky. The end. Before Tallus decided he’d grown magical powers and faced our foes with his bare hands, I took the lock from him and chucked it on the floor before grabbing the doorknob and yanking it open.
A bone-shivering creak sounded, and I cringed. We didn’t have time to be quiet. I shoved Tallus into the room and stumbled after him. We landed in a dusty chamber. An exit sign above another door washed the room in an eerie red glow. Overflowing boxes of battered hymnals, an empty cast iron votive stand, two brokenpews, and other religious detritus occupied the small space. A six-foot-tall bronze cross was balanced in the corner. The paint that had once vivified the face of a suffering Jesus peeled and flaked with the passing of time.
“Holy shit. We’re in the church,” Tallus said as I closed the door and unsuccessfully searched for a dead bolt. “Opening the lock was a miracle. A gift from the big guy upstairs. He’s watching out for us, D. He’s protecting us. Do you feel it? Motherfluffer. I never wanted to owe god. We’ve never really been friends. Do you think—”
“Shut up, Tallus. You weren’t blessed with superhuman powers. The lock was open. Help me move boxes. I can’t bar the door, and they’re following us.” I dragged the biggest box of hymnals I could get my hands on in front of the door.
Seemingly eager to fulfill the task, Tallus grabbed another and added it to the top, then another and another with the quick, jerky movements of an adrenaline high. The boxes wouldn’t hold long, but it would buy us enough time to get away.
Hopefully.
When he darted off to grab another, I snagged his hand and yanked him toward the glowing exit. “Enough. Come on. We have to find a way out.”
He ran, once again overtaking me, head on a swivel.
The church basement was lit with enough soft light that he shouted with excitement the moment he swept around a corner.
“Here. Here. Stairs. I found stairs.” His wide grin was out of place. It would have been more suited to a carnival or an amusement park, not a race out of a building while being chased by men who wanted to kill us.
Tallus took off like a shot, and I hiss-shouted for him to stay with me.
At the top, we found ourselves in the back wing of a church. The parish office was on the right, its door open. The lights were out, and I noted a desk, a filing cabinet, and a shelf of what I guessed to be parish literature inside. No one was around, quiet as crickets, save for the sounds of men trying to breach the door we’d blocked. If they didn’t know we were a few steps ahead of them before, they did now.
Down the hall, in the direction Tallus headed, a carved wooden archway welcomed parishioners to a private chapel. Tall stained glass windows, artfully crafted to display the stations of the cross, lined both sides of the narrow space. It was a haunting display without a backing of sunlight casting rainbow prisms on the pews below.
Before I could blink, Tallus was halfway down the next hall, skip-hopping along like the Energizer Bunny. “This way. This way,” he called.
That was when I heard a crash from the basement—a precariously stacked pile of cardboard boxes filled with books falling over, I had no doubt.
“A door,” Tallus squealed, not quietly. “Come on, D. We can get out over here.”
I ran, trying to catch up as he plowed into it with his shoulder, likely anticipating it would open, but it didn’t. He crashed hard and rebounded, landing on the floor with a groan.
“Um, ow. That was… not expected.” He rubbed his shoulder and glanced up as I approached. “It’s locked,” he announced unnecessarily, like I hadn’t just witnessed his failed Wile E. Coyote impersonation.
“What? No more magic strength?”
He pouted.
The exit was a massive arch divided into two doors, wooden and intricately carved. I was on the wrong side, but I had the distinctfeeling they were the same ones that I’d lain beside as I stared at a clear blue sky marred by a single contrail left behind by a distant airplane.
I couldn’t see a dead bolt anywhere and shoved the heavy wooden door with all my weight, confirming it didn’t budge.
Tallus got to his feet and brushed himself off. He must have heard the approaching men since he turned and faced the way we’d come, penknife at the ready. “Hurry up. Unlock it, Princess. I’ll hold them off.”
He would do nothing of the sort, but we’d be dead if I didn’t get the fucking door open. What the hell was holding it in place? I shoved again uselessly.
