I held the CHRONOS key out into the room, hoping for enough light to pick a relatively clear, corpse-free path to the window. As I began to move away from the door, my skirt brushed against something solid. I really didn’t want to know what it was, so I just kept inching forward.
“Are you okay, Kiernan?” I asked, reaching back for his hand.
“I’m okay, Miss Kate,” he said, but he slipped his hand into mine. “We need to hurry. I mean, if he set the fire, then this is prob’ly his escape route, too…”
I moved forward as quickly as possible with only the CHRONOS keys for light to guide me. The room was mostly empty, aside from some stray items of furniture, but it was only about four feet wider than the broom closet had been.
We passed several shadows that looked like cots along the left-hand wall and I was pretty sure that the long, thin object dangling from the edge of the second one had once been someone’s arm. I heard a quick intake of breath from Katherine a few seconds later, and when I looked down at Kiernan’s face his eyes were tightly closed—he just clutched my hand firmly and blindly followed my lead.
We’d covered another five yards or so when a shuffling noise came from behind us. A quick glance back revealed nothing. I told myself it was probably just the body that I’d shoved away from the door slumping the rest of the way to the ground. Or a rat. Normally, either of those ideas would have freaked me out, but right now they were a source of great comfort.
But the sound came again. And then again. Either the body was following us or it was a very large rat. Even more likely, it was Holmes.
He obviously knew we were in here. If I could hear one person moving stealthily behind me, he could definitely hear the three of us. Holmes must have known we were in here before he even entered—otherwise, why no lantern? We had a slight advantage, in that he could not see the light from the CHRONOS keys that we were using to find our way forward. He had a much better idea of the territory, however, since he’d designed this nightmare.
“Go,” I whispered, still moving forward. “Keep low and stick to the side so you aren’t silhouetted by the window. If it won’t open, smash it. Don’t stop for anything. You both know what you need to do once you’re out of here. I’ll see you—eventually.”
Kiernan leaned in toward me for just a moment and clutched my hand. I was afraid he was going to argue, but he didn’t. “Bye, Miss Kate. Be careful.”
I gave him a quick kiss on the top of the head as they moved past me. Pulling myself as close against the wall as possible, I listened, trying to separate the sounds of Katherine and Kiernan on my right from the less obvious movements to my left.
Inching over a few feet, I positioned myself across from the two cots I’d seen earlier. The room was, at most, six feet across, and with the obstacle of the cots on the other side, Holmes would have to pass directly in front of me in order to get to the window. I fought the temptation to tuck the medallion back in my pocket. There was no way he could see the light, but it still made me feel exposed—a bright blue beacon pointing out my location.
I took a few slow, deep breaths to try and steady my pulse and then stole a quick glance at Katherine and Kiernan. I couldn’t see them clearly, just the glow from Katherine’s CHRONOS key ten, maybe fifteen yards away from the window. Please, dear God, let this be the window with the ladder, I thought.
Holmes was still advancing from the left, but it was very hard to gauge his exact distance. His breathing was jagged—as if he’d recently been running or had inhaled a lot of smoke.
Another quick glance at the window. I couldn’t even see the blue glow anymore; Katherine must have slipped the key back into her dress.
I was about to turn away when the faint outline of the window shifted slightly. There was a loud creak as the frame resisted, but the gunshots were even louder.
Holmes fired twice in rapid succession. I don’t know where the first shot landed, but the second shattered a section of the window. I twisted toward him just as the third shot went off and was able to pinpoint his location—he was almost on top of me. In fact, if he hadn’t been staring at the window when he fired, I’m pretty sure he’d have caught a glimpse of me in the brief light of the explosion.
I stood up, my back pressed to the wall. The blue light gave an unearthly glow to Holmes’s face that would have been sinister enough without the long-barreled revolver he was clutching. He had stopped in order to take a more careful aim when I kicked upward. The goal was to hit his arms, which were holding the revolver at chest level, but the skirt limited my movement and the blow caught him just below the belt of his overcoat.