THE SCRATCHY, STAINED army blanket reeked from a mixture of sawdust and kerosene, but as Viv ducked her head between her knees and shut her eyes, the smell was the last of her worries. Tucked underneath the olive green cloak, she could hear the scratching of Janos’s shoes as he entered the room. From the noise Harris was making – banging on what sounded like sheet metal in the distance – she figured Janos would run. And for a few steps, he did. Then he stopped. Right in front of her.
Holding her breath, Viv did her best to remain motionless. Instinctively she opened her eyes, but the only thing she could see was the tip of her right foot sticking out from underneath the blanket. Was it covered up, or was that what Janos was looking at? As a slow grumble rippled through the air, Janos pivoted slightly, bits of concrete grinding beneath the tips of his shoes. Knowing better than to move, Viv gripped her knees, digging her nails into her own shins.
“Hurry…!” Harris whispered in the distance, his voice echoing down the concrete hall.
Janos stopped, twisting back toward the sound.
Viv knew it was Harris’s lame way to distract, but as Janos started running, it was clearly working.
Counting to herself, Viv was careful not to rush it. Don’t move an eyebrow until he’s long gone. Once again, she held her breath – not just to hide, but to take in every sound. The rumble of the air-conditioning units… the buzz of the overhead lights… and most important of all, the light rasp of Harris’s footsteps fading in the distance… and the gnawing, quick shuffle of Janos’s shoes as he gave chase right behind him.
Even when they were out of earshot, Viv still took another few seconds, just to be safe. Finally peeking out from below the blanket, she scanned the entryway. Nothing anywhere. Just some garbage cans and her fellow propane tanks. With a sharp snap, she whipped the blanket off her shoulders and sent it flying toward the trash.
Scurrying for the door, Viv burst out into the hallway and followed it back around to the left. “Help!” she cried. “Someone… we need help!” As before, the piles of discarded office furniture were the only things to hear her call. Mapping her way back to the Capitol police, she raced for the short staircase up on her left – but just as she turned the corner, she smacked flat into the chest of a tall man in a crisp pinstriped suit. The impact was hard – her nose collided with his magenta Zegna tie, pressing it against his chest. To Viv’s surprise, the man managed to backstep and roll with it. Almost as if he heard her coming.
“Help… I need help,” Viv said, her voice racing.
“Take it easy,” Barry replied, his glass eye staring just off to the left as he put a hand on her arm. “Now tell me what’s going on…”