We couldn’t stop. Not here.
“Come on, Bones,” I muttered, half-dragging, half-hauling him toward the blown-out door. “You survived your time in the torture spa, you don’t get to die in a museum. You might be old, but you arenotthat old.” I grunted, growled, and groaned as I fought for every inch of space we achieved. “You stubborn bastard.”
The hiss grew louder—more vents kicking in. The air thinned further, my head swam, and my knees felt watery. I stumbled, slammed my shoulder into a shelf—when did that get there?—and nearly sent both of us back to the floor.
He groaned. That sound vibrated against my skin and lit a fire along my spine. He was still with me. Still breathing. Still fighting. If he could do it…
Then dammit, so would I.
I gritted my teeth and pushed us forward, one foot after another. I didn’t know where O’Rourke had gone. Didn’t know whereanyonewas. Comms weredead silent—like we were sealed in our own little hell, cut off from the world.
It was really hard to get a deep breath. The more I tried, the more my vision seemed to swim. Oh, and wasn’t that just great. Now I was seeing stars. I didn’t want to think about how low the oxygen had to be for me to feel it.
Pushing away from the shelves, I guided us across the room, following the path they’d made me memorize. Only, I wasn’t so sure about it at the moment.
The hallway stretched ahead—long, dark, scattered with debris. I didn’t know the museum had this many back corridors. I didn’t know where they went.
I saw light at the end of one. Flickering. Smoke-diffused.
Good enough for me.
Angling toward it, I stagger-walked with Bones like he weighed nothing and everything at the same time.
A burst of static hit my comm and I jerked, half stopping before I made myself keep going. Bones was trying to walk. We needed the momentum.
Then—finally—Legend’s voice.
“–exit north-side loading dock—repeat, Grace, do you copy?—”
I had no hand free, but hopefully if I was receiving, it was transmitting again. “Legend, I copy—barely. We’re moving. Bones is moving, but barely. Suppression system’s dumping gas, we’re getting lightheaded.”
“Gas is non-toxic, but oxygen levels are being sucked out to kill the fire. Keep moving. You’ve got four minutes tops before you both black out.”
What was I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I wasn’t a damn soldier.
Four minutes.
How much time had we already lost? Bones had gone limp again, and my own legs were trembling like a newborn foal trying to stand for the first time.
“Bones,” I whispered. “Don’t you dare quit on me now.”
Nothing. Just his weight pressing into me.
I pushed forward.
Another corner. Another hallway.
I could see the loading dock now—bright halogen lights stuttering on through the haze. The doors were cracked open, smoke pouring out into the night beyond.
Fresh air. Just a little further.
Another step.
Then another.
And then—O’Rourke emerged from the smoke near the loading bay, dragging a fire ax behind him like he’d just walked out of a war zone.
“You two lovebirds planning on dying dramatically or getting in the damn truck?”