Mills gazed upon the man’s face. It was tanned, clean-shaven, and Hollywood-handsome with all the right angles in all the right places. But his skin was cold, pale. His eyes were dry, lifeless. “He looks… peaceful.”
Elliott reached a tentative hand toward the body. Mills slapped it hard.
“Ouch.” Elliott withdrew her hand like a snake had bitten it. “What was that for?”
“Your own good,” Mills said. “What if he’s got some kind of weird disease? I mean, why else would he be in there?”
“I don’t know.” Elliott studied the wheel. “It looks like an isolation chamber. Maybe it was some kind of experiment.”
“Then why is he dead?”
“We know the exterior fence lost power. So, it stands to reason these wheels lost power, too. Animals overran the fence and whoever was monitoring the experiments went upstairs, got themselves killed.” She gazed at the body. “This poor guy was trapped with no food, no water, no oxygen. Death was inevitable.”
“Yeah? Then how come he’s just lying there, all peaceful-like? How come he didn’t try to claw his way to freedom?”
Elliott frowned, but only for a moment. “Maybe you’re right about the disease. If so, this thing isn’t an isolation chamber. It’s a life-support system. And that would explain those wires and tubes. They were used to monitor him, care for him. When the power failed, the system went off-line. People went upstairs to see what had happened. They died before they could restore the electricity.”
“And this guy died shortly after,” Mills twisted her mouth in thought. “It makes sense. But it doesn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why build a life support system in the middle of nowhere? Why not just take him to a hospital?”
Elliott shrugged.
On a whim, Mills marched to the central core of monitors and machines. A little browsing turned up a large logbook made of fine leather. Her brow furrowed as she started to crack it open.
“Get your asses up here,” Toland shouted from above. “The roof is—”
Cracking and crackling noises drowned him out.
Elliott raced to the ladder. Mills lingered for an extra second, her gaze locked on the logbook. Then, for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom, she tucked it into the back of her waistband and darted to the shaft.
As she followed Elliott up the ladder, Mills shifted her gaze skyward and saw streaks of fire zoom across the ceiling like shooting stars. Beams buckled and splintered as the roof disintegrated before her eyes.
Elliott climbed out of the shaft. Then she ran to the door.
Muscles aching, Mills pulled herself up the rest of the way. The logbook slipped as she gained her footing so she took it out of her waistband and clutched it against her chest.
Her bare soles pounded against the floor as she sprinted for the door. She felt heat at her back, at her sides. Flames jumped from machine to machine, chasing her down in relentless fashion.
She reached the doorframe seconds behind the fire. She caught a brief look outside, at Toland and Elliott standing in the clearing. Then more flames sparked up, surrounding the frame on all sides.
The heat drove her back a few feet. Something exploded behind her. Throwing caution to the wind, she ran forward and leapt through the rectangle of fire.
She landed hard on the damp soil, still holding the book to her chest. Elliott and Toland grabbed her elbows, lifted her up, and hustled her away from the building.
Another explosion, the biggest one yet, rang out. The shockwave pushed Mills to run faster and she didn’t stop until she reached the fallen metal post.
“That…” Sucking at air, Elliott hunched down, hands on her knees. “… that sucked.”
Mills flopped onto the ground and watched the structure crumble to the earth. She felt dull on the inside. Dull and hopeless. Despite the corpses of its former inhabitants, she’d still viewed the building as a potential refuge. A place to hide from the saber and whatever other horrors awaited them in the forest. But now, it was gone, returned to the earth from whence it came. And she would soon follow suit, she reckoned. Maybe by the saber’s claws, maybe not. It didn’t really matter. Death was death, right?
“What the hell were you doing down there anyway?” Toland growled under his breath.
“We found something.” Quickly, Elliott filled him in on the map of the Vallerio, the strange wheels, and the dead body.
“So, let me get this straight,” Toland said as she finished up. “You don’t know anything.”
Elliott’s face flushed. “Weren’t you listening? I said—”
He held up a hand. “Do you have the map?”
Elliott glanced at Mills.
Mills shook her head.
“So, all we have is a bunch of useless speculation. We might be in the Vallerio. Corbotch might have put us here. Those wheels might have been life support systems.” Brushing soot from his hair, Toland hiked to the concrete block. “Well? Are you two coming or not?”
With a deep breath, Mills pushed away her dark thoughts. She couldn’t give up. She had to keep fighting, keep surviving. “We can still stay here.” She nodded at the metal post. “We just need to stick that back in its block, cement it somehow. That should keep out smaller animals. And maybe we’ll find some supplies or tools once the fire burns out.”
“My plan is better.”
Elliott rolled her eyes. “Of course it is.”
“I found a large whiteboard just before the roof started to cave,” he said. “There was a rough map on it.”
“What kind of map?” Mills asked.
“Does it really matter?”
“It might.”
“There was a small box, surrounded by empty space and a bunch of squiggly lines. Farther back, there were trees. I figure the box was the building.”
Elliott smirked. “And you accuse me of speculating?”
“The empty space was shaped like this clearing,” he retorted. “And the squiggly lines matched up perfectly with the fence.”
“Fine. You might have found a map of the clearing.” Mills coughed some smoke out of her lungs. “How does that help us?”
“Above and to the left, I saw a large X.” He smiled broadly, as if he’d just solved the world’s toughest math equation.
“That’s it?” Elliott said after a moment. “What’s the X?”
“Another building?” He shrugged. “Who cares? At least it’s not here.”
Elliott rolled her eyes. “Yeah. This is a great plan.”
Whistling noises rang out. Turning around, Mills watched as small bits of fire shot into the air like missiles. They rained down on nearby pine trees. The first wave of fire quickly burned itself out on the damp wood and needles. But the second, third, and fourth waves were a different story.
Equal amounts of pain, horror, and helplessness filled Mills’ heart as she watched small blazes and gray smoke spring up all around her. A stiff breeze caught hold of burning branches and needles, sending them to new trees and fanning the flames in the process.
Unfortunately, the fire extinguishers were buried in the building’s ruins. And even if they had access to more extinguishers, the flames were far too high to reach. The New Yorker Chronicles would love this. She could almost imagine the headlines. Billionaire Bailey Sets Wilderness Ablaze! The Boozing Bad Girl Burns Down Famous Backwoods!
“Do you think you can lead us to that X?” she asked.
“Do fires like wood?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yes. Of course, I can lead you there.”
Mills shifted her grip on the logbook and stood up. “Then do it.”