Smoke was already sliding along the ceiling of the corridor.
Zarek stepped out of the office first, sword low. Vance stumbled behind him, stiff-legged, hugging the half-empty water bottle to his ribs. Elsa followed, keeping a few steps between herself and the old man. Zarek had tossed her a first-aid kit on the way out, and she was winding gauze around her forearm as she walked, wincing every time her boots hit concrete.
"Three paces back," Zarek said without turning. "Step past my shoulder, Vance, and I drop you."
"I’m not sprinting anywhere, kid." Vance coughed into his fist. "Left at the junction. Utility trunk. It skips the kitchen shafts."
Zarek stopped at the corner and looked first. The main hallway was solid black smoke rolling down from the broken vents, and the heat off it hit his face like an oven door. Somewhere above, steel groaned as it twisted.
"Main route’s dead. Tell me about the trunk. Short version."
"A crawlway under the steam pipes. It comes out right at the freight door." Vance leaned on a fire extinguisher bracket. "The hangers were rusting before the power went. If the heat warped them, the pipes might be sagging."
"Then you go first at the tight spots. If something drops, it lands on you."
Vance laughed, but he didn’t argue.
Thirty yards on, the yellow paint was blistering off the walls in curls. The passage dipped, and then it ended in a wall of rubble. A section of ceiling had come down and dropped a steel pipe frame across the corridor.
The only gap was a narrow slot near the floor.
Zarek crouched and looked at how it hung together.The frame was bent like a bow, with loose masonry piled across it. The whole thing looked ready to collapse. Push the wrong piece, and the corridor would be sealed completely.
"Can we clear it?" Elsa’s voice was tight as another warm wave of smoke rolled over their heads. "We can’t stay here!"
"We’re not clearing it. Vance. Bypass."
Vance pointed a shaking finger at a small steel plate set into the right wall, knee-high. "Valve hatch. Runs alongside the pipe and comes out past the pile. But the inside has a drop-pin. Someone has to hold it clear while the outer plate opens, or it locks."
Zarek looked at the hatch, then at Vance’s shoulders and shaking hands, then at Elsa.
She went pale. "No. Zarek, I can’t. My arm. If it shifts while I’m in there..."
"If we stay here, you burn." He said it quietly. "You crawl in, you free the pin, you hold it till I kick the outer plate. Fast, or I leave you on this side."
A tear ran through the soot on her cheek. She looked at Vance, but he avoided her eyes. When she turned back to Zarek, he was still waiting. He wasn’t going to change his mind.
She dropped to her knees, pulled the cover off with her good hand, and wriggled in headfirst.
For a moment, Zarek could hear nothing but the scrape of her clothes against metal.
"How much farther?" Elsa called.
"You’re nearly there," Vance answered.
"You don’t know that!"
"I know the maintenance layout."
"That’s not the same thing!"
Zarek glanced toward the ceiling. Another creak passed through the corridor, followed by a shower of dust.
"Save the argument for when we’re outside," he said. "Elsa, find the pin. Vance, tell her how to release it."
Vance moved closer to the opening and explained the mechanism. Zarek kept his attention on the rubble. If the support frame shifted, he wanted to see it before the passage came down.
The tube smelled of hot rust and old grease. Elsa dragged herself forward, and her bandaged arm scraped a rivet and tore a muffled sob out of her. "I’m at the pin! It’s stuck!"
"Hit the base with the pry bar. Don’t pull."
She gripped the bar, steadied her breathing, and slammed it down.
CLANG.
"It moved! I’ve got it!"
Zarek moved to the other side of the wall and drove his heel into the outer plate. The rusted hinges tore loose, and the hatch swung open. Smoke poured out, and Elsa came after it on hands and knees, coughing hard.
He hauled her up by the jacket collar. "Up. Vance, move."
Elsa stumbled away from the hatch, coughing so hard she had to brace herself against the wall. Her injured arm hung close to her body.
Zarek gave her a quick glance. "Can you still use your legs?"
She shot him an angry look but nodded.
"Good. Keep moving."
She wanted to curse him , but the smoke in her lungs made speaking difficult. She picked up the first-aid kit and followed.
Vance hurried after them. Behind him, the damaged passage groaned again.
None of them looked back.
The passage sloped downward and the heat fell behind them. At the end stood a heavy blast door with a hazard stripe slashed across it, its keypad dead and dark. Vance opened a cover beneath it and showed them an iron wheel on a drive rod.
"Takes two," he wheezed. "The gears are dry."
Zarek took the other side. "On three. Slack off and I break your fingers in the spokes."
"One... two... three!"
The wheel shrieked, showering rust from the spindle. The locking bars slid back with a series of hard thuds. Zarek released the wheel and shoved the door with his shoulder. It moved a few inches before sticking, forcing him to push again. Cool, damp air slipped through the gap, carrying the smell of wet concrete.
"That’s under West Boulevard," Vance panted, sliding down the frame. "Told you."
Zarek went through first, sword up. The freight tunnel was a long concrete arch with a skin of stagnant water on the floor, reflecting the dim light from the open door behind them. He walked down the middle with Elsa and Vance trailing him, still wheezing, while the draft cleared their lungs.
The air was better here, but Zarek didn’t relax. A clear route out of the hotel didn’t mean a safe route through the city.
He checked the sword in his hand and glanced at the two people following him. Elsa was holding herself together despite the pain. Vance looked as though another hard sprint might put him on the floor.
Neither was in any condition to fight properly.
That meant Zarek would have to be careful about what they encountered next. He had no intention of risking his own life to compensate for someone else’s weakness.
Fifty yards in, Zarek stopped and raised a hand.
A thick steel door had been built into the curved wall. Crossbraces reinforced its surface, and long gouges scarred the metal around the manual wheel lock. A small window glowed with a faint amber light.
"That’s not on any map I’ve seen," Vance whispered.
Zarek studied the gouges. Whatever had made them hadn’t been using a tool.
"Someone wanted to keep something out," he said.
"Or keep something in," Elsa replied.
Before Zarek could answer, he noticed the locking bolts. They had been pulled back, leaving the door unlocked.
A thin trail of black, oily liquid seeped from beneath it, mixing with the water on the tunnel floor.
Zarek recognized the substance.
Mutant blood.
A metallic scrape came from behind the door. Then the wheel lock shifted slightly.
Zarek tightened his grip on the sword.
Whatever was inside wasn’t necessarily trapped anymore.