Spark(73)

Staying low, she dashed to the door and wrenched the handle. It didn’t budge. She tried again, throwing all her weight behind it. Panic pulsed, hot and frantic through her veins, keeping time with the blaring alarm.
“Help!” she cried. “Let us out!”
Spark pounded on the door, cursing the fact that there were no windows facing into the hall. But there were some on the other side of the room.
Coughing, she scrambled toward the windows, then stopped when she heard Aran groan.
“Spark? What’s going on?” His voice was groggy.
She knelt beside him. “Fire, and we’re trapped. Trying the windows.”
“Sec.”
He sat up and stripped off his T-shirt, then ripped it in half. The cloth left streaks of blood on his hands. With a crooked smile, he handed her half his shirt, then tied the other section over his nose and mouth. Spark, trying not to be squeamish about the blood, did the same.
The two of them scrambled across the room. When they reached the windows, Aran stood. Spark took a few copper-flavored  breaths, feeling dizzy. The smoke was starting to get to her.
He dropped back down, eyes bleak.
“Jammed,” he said.
“Break it?”
There was a chair pushed into the corner by the window. Aran grabbed it by the legs and swung it hard against the glass. The chair bounced off, and he cursed.
“Legs first,” she croaked.
He pointed the chair legs at the window and rammed it, his body shielded by the seat. The glass shivered, but held. The alarm shrilled out its useless cry.
“Damn reinforced glass.” Aran dropped the chair, coughing.
“Get down here.” She beckoned him to the floor.
Face taut, he went to his hands and knees.
“Any other ideas?” he asked.
Spark shook her head. She didn’t even have her messager on her—it was on the nightstand upstairs.
“Hey.” She covered his hand with hers. “I’m sorry none of this worked out for us.”
“Don’t give up yet.”
“Lie down, anyway. Better air.”
He dropped to his stomach, looking like a bandit with the blood-smeared cloth over half his face.
They lay there quietly, and Spark concentrated on breathing.
“There has to be another way out,” she said.
Aran went up on his elbows. “We should check the whole room. I’ll go right.”
She nodded, saving her breath, then began crawling over the scratchy brown carpet. Smoke stung her eyes, and she was starting to feel lightheaded, but they couldn’t give up.
Halfway down the wall, she found the air vent. She didn’t have the breath to yell for Aran, so instead she kicked a table over. The clatter brought him running, though he was smart enough to stay doubled over.
“Vent,” she gasped. They had nothing to pry it open with. Except…
Leaving Aran at the vent, she scrambled over to her sim system and grabbed the helmet. VirtuMax wouldn’t like this, but it was a small price to pay. She set the helmet by Aran.
“Break,” she said.#p#分页标题#e#
He understood right away, and gave the helmet a couple heavy stomps. They took turns yanking at the visor, until the plas-glass was loose on one side. Hands shaking, she tried to slip the edge behind the metal grill of the vent.
“Let me,” Aran said. “Lie down.”
She didn’t argue, just concentrated on not coughing while he worked on loosening the grill edge.
A sharp whistle made her sit up. She glanced wildly around.
“What?” Was she having an auditory hallucination.
“Scoot back,” Aran said, taking her arm and pulling her away from the vent.
The grill flew off. A moment later, Niteesh stuck his head out
“Nit!”
“Sparky! And random guy. Into the vent, quick.” Niteesh held out his hand.
Spark took it and forced herself into the small space, grateful for Aran’s boost. She crawled up behind Niteesh, and he moved forward.
The metal was cool under her hands, and the air was several degrees fresher. Still, they couldn’t just stay there. The smoke would fill the vents soon enough.
“Aran?” she called, though it came out more like a croak.
“Here.” He tapped her ankle.
She started crawling, following the waving beam of Niteesh’s flashlight and trying not to imagine the metal walls closing in on her.
“Okay, slow down,” Niteesh said. “Tricky turn here. But we’re almost out.”
The vent got darker as he slid around the corner. Spark crawled forward on her elbows. She could feel perspiration, damp on her forehead. The vent made a left turn and she tried to fold herself into its sharp angle. She wiggled a few more painful inches, then twisted. Dammit, she was not getting stuck in here!
Her hips cleared the turn and she slithered through with a gasp. She had no idea how Aran was going to manage. Although he was lean, his shoulders were broad. She didn’t voice any doubt, though, just went forward to give him room to get through.