Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Great. Break the glass and bring it over.”
She nods, takes off her jacket to protect her hand, and rams a fist through the glass. She carries the fire extinguisher over. “But what do you need this for?”
I point to the doorknob. “Discharge it onto the doorknob. That’ll help freeze the locking mechanism.”
“How on earth do you know that, Doctor?” Dinah asks.
I swallow. “Never you mind. Just do it.”
“Got it.” Bianca points the fire extinguisher at the lock and shoots the foam at the doorknob. Once she does it, I bring my leg up and give it a good kick.
“Keep discharging the extinguisher.” I look to Dinah. “Help me kick. We’ll trade off. Aim right for above the doorknob. That’s the weakest part of the door.”
“Got it,” Dinah says.
We take turns kicking at the door while Bianca works the extinguisher. Finally, a decent-sized crack appears next to the doorknob.
“We’re getting there,” I say. “One sec. Dinah, keep kicking.”
I run back over to my Cadillac and open the trunk, using my cell phone as a flashlight. There’s some rope, my spare tire, a few loose bottles of Gatorade, a colorful gift bag—where the hell did that come from?—but then I find what I’m looking for. My crowbar. Thank God I keep it in my trunk at all times.
I bring it back. Dinah’s continued kicks have widened the crack just a bit. I insert the hook of the crowbar into the crack as far as I can and I pull. The wood of the door moans as it continues coming apart.
I pry the crack open as far as I can and then give one last good kick.
The door finally breaks.
Bianca drops the fire extinguisher. “We did it!”
We walk inside. A musty smell clings in the air, and the inside of the hotel looks far rattier than the outside. But none of that matters, because sitting on the side of a very stained, very thin mattress is Alissa.
Bianca and Dinah gasp as they look at her. Her skin, which was always light, is extremely pale. Her cheeks are sunken in, and she’s clad only in a dirty set of panties and bra, which hang off an emaciated frame.
I rush to her, immediately grab her wrist to check her pulse. “Alissa. Have you been eating?”
She slowly shakes her head. “Not since we got here.”
“We? Is Maddox here too?” Dinah asks.
Alissa nods, slowly points to the wall. “Next room over.”
“We’ll get him out in a minute.” I take her pulse, turn to Dinah. “Her heartbeat is pretty weak.”
“Sounds like malnutrition to me.” Dinah takes Alissa’s face in her hands gently. “How long have you been here?”
Alissa bites her lip. “I…lost track. At least a month.”
“You couldn’t have lived that long without water, though.”
Alissa eyes the hotel room’s bathroom, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Got that…from the loo.”
Dinah bursts into tears. “My God, Liss.”
Alissa’s face twists, but I don’t think her body has enough moisture remaining to actually produce any tears. “Maddox… He… He stopped talking to me a few days ago.”
“Shit. He did?”
My heart races, and I strain to keep a steady face. Could my best friend be dead? He’s bigger than Alissa and his body requires more calories to function, so he’d succumb to the effects of malnutrition faster than she would. A rush of emotions threatens to burst out of me, but I swallow them down. Right now, Alissa needs someone who is calm and rational. Stable.
“Dinah. Do you have any snacks in your bag? Something that will be easy for her to digest?”
She nods. “I have a pack of applesauce.”
“Excellent. Make sure she eats that.” I toss her my car keys. “There are a few bottles of Gatorade in the trunk of my car. Once you get the applesauce in her, have her drink a whole bottle. That should stabilize her at least until we can get her proper medical attention. Bianca and I will work on Maddox’s door and then we’ll get them both to the hospital.”
Alissa grips my hand. “Be quick. I don’t know…if he has much time left.”
I give her hand a squeeze—God, it’s bony—and then lead Bianca out. We cross over to the next room, this one painted black and marked as 1-E.
We make decently quick progress on Maddox’s door, even though it’s just me kicking this time. Now that we know our process will work, we’re doing it with a lot more confidence.
Finally I pry the door open with the crowbar and we rush in.
There he is, lying on the bed in his underwear. Paler than Alissa, and the muscles in his chest and arms have begun to atrophy.
My heart sinks. He’s not moving.
I run over to him. “Maddox! Are you okay?” I grip his shoulders, shake them gently. Lightly slap his cheek. No response. I lower an ear over his mouth and nose.