Once We Were

Sabine stood a few feet behind him.

“How long do I have?” I demanded. “How long until the bomb goes off, Sabine?”

“Any second,” Sabine said.

I shook our head. “You wouldn’t have come this close if that were true.”

“I came to stop you,” she said. “I came to save you.”

“And I’m going in there.” I jerked our chin toward the institution. “How much time do I have to get out, Sabine?”

She took a step toward us. She clamped her voice back to its usual calm. “You don’t have any time, Eva. Just come back—”

“I’m going in.” I matched her calm. “I’m not going to let them die, Sabine. I can’t. I won’t live with that. I’m not going to let Ryan live with that.” I stared at her. Whispered. “I’m not going to let you live with that, Sabine. Now, you can tell me how much time I have to come out, or I can just take my chances with guessing.”

<She won’t tell you> Addie said. <She doesn’t care, Eva.>

Sabine just stared at us.

I turned and started for the institution.

“Thirteen minutes,” Sabine said. “Thirteen minutes. That’s it.”

THIRTY-EIGHT

There was a guard at the back door. He startled when he saw me running toward him, then stepped forward, his arms spread out, his hands held high. “Hey—hey! What’re you doing here? This—”

“They have to get out,” I shouted. He grabbed at me, and I darted backward, out of the way. “You have to get them out!” Our heart pounded so loud I could barely hear myself speak, so hard each beat exploded in our chest. “There’s a bomb. There’s a bomb inside. You have to get them out.”

The guard just frowned. He didn’t believe me. Dear God, he didn’t believe me.

I shoved past him, ignoring his shouts. It was cold inside the institution. My shoes squeaked against the tile, the sound reverberating off the white walls. There wasn’t another soul in sight.

In seconds, Addie and I were across the lobby and darting up the stairs. What if they were on the topmost floor? On the other end of the building?

I looked at our watch. A little over eleven minutes left.

We reached the second floor.

“Hello?” I shouted.

Our voice echoed back, but nothing else. I ran down the hall, still shouting, peering into rooms, glancing through windows. We caught glimpses of narrow metal beds, sheets already tucked in tight. We saw flashes of spartan, locker room–style bathrooms, porcelain surfaces gleaming. But no people.

Then we were back in the stairwell, on the other side of the building. The stairs here were narrow and long—two flights for every floor. The running and shouting left us breathless.

It was with a weak shout that we crashed into the third floor hallway. “Anybody th —”

They turned as one. The entire group of them. We froze, our mouth still open, our throat still trying to squeeze out the end of our question.

Thirteen of them, a few more men than women, formally dressed.

The closest to Addie and me was Jenson.

He stared at us, same as the others. But unlike them, recognition bloomed in his eyes. His proximity almost made me stumble. I shook my head clear.

“You’ve all got to leave,” I said. “You have to get out.”

Nobody moved. A woman turned to Jenson. His eyes had not left our face. “What’s going on, Mark?”

A glance down at our watch—eight minutes. They had eight minutes. We had eight minutes.

<Just tell them, for God’s sake, Eva—>

“There’s a bomb in the building,” I said. “You’ve got eight minutes to get out.” Our voice didn’t want to work right. It kept giving out. It wouldn’t go loud, as I needed it to.

But everyone was listening now. Everyone was listening, but no one was moving.

“A bomb,” I screamed. I seemed only capable of a trembling whisper or a full-on scream, nothing in between. One of the women cried out in response, a startled bird noise. I dove back the way I’d come, looking over our shoulder, hoping my movement would incite them to follow.

Something flashed across Jenson’s face. A bolt of understanding, like he’d just put together the last pieces in a complicated puzzle.

I didn’t have time to ponder it.

The man farthest away from the staircase was the first to move. He threw himself forward, nearly knocking over the man directly in front of him. For a second, he and the falling, flailing man were the only ones in motion.

Then suddenly, everyone surged toward us. An unbroken wave of terror. The people behind us shoved us into the stairwell. Elbows and limbs lashed out. Then it was down, down, down the steps, the walls echoing with the thunderous noise of our escape.

How much time left? Enough to make it down the stairs, across the lobby, and up the hill?

<Don’t think about it> I whispered, to myself as much as Addie.

Don’t think about the seconds clicking down.

Don’t think about the nauseating crush of bodies all around us.

Don’t think about Jenson, God only knew how far behind.

None of that could be helped by thinking.

Just keep moving. Keep moving.

We were just past the second floor when the man beside us stumbled. Knocked into us.

Made us slip.

We tangled with someone, our limbs knotting with his, his momentum kicking us forward. We screamed as his weight came down on us. He gripped the railing. We grabbed for it but missed—

Everything was chaos as we fell. People dove aside to avoid being pulled down themselves. I only knew the moment of impact by the searing pain in our leg.

For a moment, we couldn’t see clearly. Couldn’t hear clearly. When everything came into focus again, we saw some of the officials hesitate. A few almost stopped. One actually did. Our ankle burned, shooting pain up our shin.

“Keep going,” Jenson said. There weren’t many people left behind us now. Most had pushed on. “There isn’t time. I’ll get her.”

There was no arguing against that voice, especially when there was so little motivation to do so. They fled.

And despite his words, Jenson went with them.

We tried to stand, but the pain in our ankle only got worse with pressure. Our watch had smashed during our tumble down the stairs.

How many minutes did we have left?

<He said he’d get us> I told Addie.

<He’ll come back for us> she told me.

Neither of us believed it.

Gritting our teeth against the pain, we managed to shift onto our knees. Crawling was bearable, at least for