He nodded, and we braced our feet against the door. I linked my fingers with his, as if I could gather some extra vampire mojo just by touching him, and then we pushed with all of the strength in our legs. The door buckled, and the box frame twisted, giving us enough room to slide out. Ben gently pushed me through the opening, cupping his hand over my head so I didn't smack it against the frame.
When he was out, too, I turned and saw that the padlock was still intact. Goddamn Master Locks. Growling, Ben kicked at the cage. It didn't budge. I brushed the dirt from around the bottom of the cage and saw that posts on each corner had been buried to stabilize it. And the stamp on the bottom bar of the cage read "Titanium alloy-Made in the USA." Dr. Hudson had put quite a bit of planning into this crazy vampire trap.
///
"We've got maybe five minutes before sunrise, and we're in possibly the largest tree-free space in western Kentucky. These tobacco leaves are nice but not wide enough to shade us all day as we lie here unconscious. And on fire."
"Fair enough," Ben said. He grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the distant tree line. It was only a mile or two away but seemed to be moving farther from us with every step. There was something wrong with my legs. I couldn't move fast enough. And the more the sun peeked over the horizon, the slower I moved. It was that same moving-through-Jell-O sensation I'd experienced my first morning at Jane's house. And add to that, we'd just busted our way out of a metal death box, so our muscles were tired.
"What's wrong with my legs?" Ben moaned. "I feel so weak and tired. I feel like my dad after Thanksgiving dinner."
"Fight it," I told him, dragging him along. The sun was coming up. The sky was a beautiful coral, and I could feel the beginnings of warmth on my face. I couldn't help but think that if I had to die, at least I would see those colors, I would feel that warmth, and I wasn't alone. Ben's fingers were laced through mine, and it felt right to be linked to him in this way when it could all be gone in a few moments.
We skidded to a stop, still too far from the trees to dive to safety. The top curve of the sun was visible, a beautiful, glowing, golden orb peeking over the edge of the world. It was like standing on a cliff, waiting to fall off, knowing this would be my last moment alive.
Ben yanked me close, cupping my face in his hands, and crushed his mouth to mine. I sobbed into his kiss, holding him tightly against me. I threaded my fingers through his hair, trying to memorize the silky sensation against my skin. If I was going to die, this was the last thing I wanted to feel. Ben's arms around me, anchoring me to him.
That warm light washed over my face, and I braced myself for the pain.
Nothing.
The eyes I'd squeezed shut slowly opened. And Ben was standing in front of me, whole and perfect.
"Why are we not on fire?" I asked him.
Ben shook his head, but before he could answer, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out. He landed in the dirt with a thud, sprawling over a couple of crushed tobacco plants.
"Huh," I mumbled, before toppling over and landing facedown on his chest.
If this was death-real, final death-it wasn't so bad. It was dark and cool, and I could smell freshly mown grass and Ben's spicy cologne.
I opened my eyes to see an expanse of stars above me, brilliant little pinpricks of light against velvety blue. I was tucked into Ben's side, my face buried against his chest. His hands were curving around my ass, squeezing lightly, which led me to believe that he was OK. Surely he wouldn't devote the energy to sleep-groping unless he was a hundred percent.
Probably.
I sat up slowly and looked around. We were still in the tobacco field, which was good . . . right? No one had shown up while we were sleeping to move us to the next level of the Saw killer trap. But we were still in the tobacco field, which meant that Jane didn't know where we were. That she'd gone to bed at dawn not knowing whether we were safe. And it occurred to me that the idea of causing Jane that sort of worry hurt me.
I would think about what that meant at another time, when I wasn't pondering how the hell I was going to trek across Half-Moon Hollow to get to Jane's house. I leaned over Ben, who was still pretty much asleep, and kissed his mouth. He slowly came to life underneath me, moving his hands over my back and moaning softly into my mouth. I nipped his top lip, dragging my teeth across the flesh and sliding my tongue against his.
"We need to get moving," I told him.
His eyes fluttered open, and he started, like he was still caught in the memory of running from the rising sun. He sat up so quickly I had to roll aside to keep from being head-butted. He covered my body with his and whipped his head around. "What? Why aren't we little piles of ash?"