Instead, he found Ghost in the laundry room, tearing at the tables and bins by the far wall.
“What?” Tobias asked helplessly. “We’re leaving, Ghost.”
“Go, then.” He didn’t hesitate, instead tearing madly at the small rugs that would keep the cold tile floor comfortable for bare feet. “I’m not leaving without it.”
“Ghost!” Tobias grabbed at his arm. “Whatever it is isn’t worth your life, now come on!”
Ghost shoved him hard enough that Tobias went flying into the wall, stumbling and going to one knee before blinking up at him in shock. For a second he thought Ghost would kick him, but instead he upended a small cabinet so that detergent and dryer sheets came tumbling out. “I didn’t go through all of this for nothing,” he bit out, checking the newly cleared area for whatever it was he’d lost. “Now either help me search or get the fuck out.”
Tobias got up, shaky and furious and stung, and said, “What am I looking for?”
“A USB. I threw it in here and it’s—it’s got to be here. He’d have said if he found it, so it must be here, it must’ve bounced off of something—” Ghost’s words grew more panicked as he went. Tobias uselessly kicked aside the overturned laundry basket and pawed through the dirty clothes there.
He heard Sullivan call his name, his tone a rich mixture of anger and concern. Damn it. He was supposed to be gone, he was supposed to be safe by now.
Tobias went to the door and yelled back, with all the fury he could muster, “You don’t need to be here. Go!”
It came out impressively commanding. A second later, footsteps echoed overhead. Something thudded loudly. Then silence.
All right.
All right. Sullivan was gone. He would be safe. He was gone. It was on Tobias now. And that was as it should be, because this was his mess, and had been since the beginning.
He glanced at Ghost, who was searching through the wreckage he’d caused with an air of utter single-mindedness. He felt suddenly certain that he’d made a tremendous mistake and was grateful that Sullivan had gone instead of following him down here into it. But there was nothing else to be done about it now—he couldn’t leave without Ghost, and he couldn’t make Ghost leave without what he’d come for.
So Tobias started yanking on the washer, a black and chrome monstrosity standing on a raised dais inset in the wall in a way that would be tricky to shift. It was heavy but not immovable; it rocked when he tugged on it.
“Here,” Tobias started, and Ghost’s head jerked up, eyes sliding to him, narrowing on the washer when he saw what Tobias was up to.
“Yes,” he said, and the two of them managed to work the washer out by several feet. It was awkward and slow, and they’d only gotten it halfway out when Tobias caught a glimpse of his watch.
00:00.
Who knew how long it’d been flashing that collection of zeroes?
“Ghost,” he said, his throat tightening, but it was useless. Ghost was hoisting himself up on top of the dryer to lie flat on his belly, lurching forward so that his head and half of his torso disappeared back behind the washer, legs spread to help him keep his balance, and Tobias grabbed his ankle to provide leverage. For a second there was nothing, and then Ghost popped back up, lips pressed tight and bloodless.
“It’s behind the dryer,” he said. “I saw it. It’s back there. Help me.”
“Ghost,” Tobias repeated. “We’re out of time. We have to—”
Ghost didn’t say a word; he only grabbed Tobias by the elbow and thrust him in the direction of the dryer, and Tobias found himself moving without thinking, found himself clutching at the dryer’s corners and heaving.
“Again,” Ghost gasped. “Pull.”
Together they got the machine to the edge of the dais, and Ghost didn’t bother waiting for Tobias this time so they could lower it together. He let it go and Tobias couldn’t hold it alone; his sweaty fingertips slipped and the dryer crashed to the floor with an immense racket. Ghost was already scrambling up and over, deft as he eased his way down behind the wreckage. He vanished from sight for a second only, and then was vaulting back up, slipping over the stainless steel in his bare feet, and landing in a crouch with a small black USB clenched in his fist. He brushed past Tobias, leaving him behind without a word or glance, and as he hurried to catch up, Tobias tried to ignore the blinking zeroes on his watch. The stairwell loomed in front of him, Ghost already halfway to the first landing and then—there—the sudden sound of a door opening overhead.
Ghost froze. “Is your partner still here?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” Tobias mouthed. He hoped not—the fear clogging his throat only worsened at the idea of Sullivan upstairs.
The footsteps were cautious and slow, the floorboards creaking in a vaguely circular pattern, and Tobias swallowed hard—it wasn’t Sullivan. Sullivan would have no reason to work his way through the living room and kitchen like that.
“Move,” Ghost said, hurrying back on silent bare feet, guiding Tobias with unkind hands into the guest room on the opposite side of the hall—the one Ghost had previously occupied. He shoved the USB into Tobias’s back jeans pocket.
“Don’t lose that or I’ll kill you,” Ghost breathed, and Tobias wasn’t entirely sure he was being flippant. No, there was no—Those green eyes were colder and harder than emeralds by far, reptilian
