Chapter 11 - Through the Air ShaftMace found the ventilation grate thirty seconds later.
It was high on the wall, nearly hidden behind a row of old file cabinets. Too narrow for an adult. Too dangerous for anyone sane.
Perfect for Maisie.
“No,” Finn said immediately.
Maisie turned toward him. “You haven’t even heard the plan.”
“I heard enough when everyone looked at the tiny air tunnel and then at you.”
Julian was already measuring the grate with his eyes. “She can fit.”
Finn rounded on him. “She is not a tool.”
The words hit the room hard because they were the exact opposite of what Victor had called her.
Julian looked at Finn.
For once, he did not answer like a boss.
He answered like a man trying not to become his father.
“You’re right.”
Maisie blinked.
Finn did too.
Julian crouched in front of her. “You don’t have to do this.”
The timer clicked faster.
Behind the hidden door, a child cried out.
Maisie’s face tightened.
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
Elena grabbed her shoulders. “Maisie, I lost you once.”
“You didn’t lose me,” Maisie whispered. “They stole me.”
Elena’s eyes filled.
Maisie touched her mother’s face, learning the shape of her with trembling fingers. “And now we steal them back.”
Elena pulled her into a fierce hug.
Then she let go.
Finn looked like the decision was killing him.
“I’m coming after you,” he said.
“You won’t fit.”
“I’ll become smaller out of spite.”
Maisie almost laughed.
Mace removed the grate.
Cyrus whined, pacing beneath the opening.
Maisie touched his head. “Guard them.”
The dog resisted, pressing his muzzle into her palm.
“Please,” she whispered.
Cyrus lowered his head, obeying.
Julian lifted Maisie carefully into the vent.
The metal was cold beneath her hands. Dust filled her nose. The space was tight enough that each breath scraped fear against her ribs.
“You hear me?” Julian called.
“Yes.”
“Left at the first split,” Elena said. “Airflow should lead to the holding room.”
Maisie crawled.
Behind her, the adults became muffled.
Ahead, the crying grew clearer.
The timer continued.
Click.
Click.
Click.
She reached the first split and turned left.
The tunnel dipped downward.
Her knee struck a screw. Pain shot up her leg. She bit her lip and kept moving.
Then Victor’s voice came through a speaker inside the vent.
“Brave little thing.”
Maisie froze.
“I watched your mother make that same mistake. Thinking courage changes the ending.”
Maisie’s hands curled.
Victor continued. “Do you know why Elena survived? Because broken mothers are useful. They obey when daughters are threatened.”
Maisie crawled faster.
“Do you know why you were blinded?”
She stopped.
The world narrowed.
Victor’s voice softened.
“It was not illness, child.”
Maisie could not breathe.
“Your vision was taken because your hearing made you more valuable without distraction.”
Her stomach turned.
For years, she had believed darkness was something that happened to her.
Now she understood it was something done.
Tears fell onto the metal beneath her.
Victor whispered, “Ask your mother. She knows.”
Maisie shut her eyes though they saw nothing.
Then she hummed.
Four notes.
Slow.
Steady.
Not for Cyrus.
For herself.
Her breathing steadied.
Victor’s voice sharpened. “Keep crawling, then. You have one minute.”
Maisie moved.
She reached another grate.
Below her, children huddled in a small room with dogs lying around them. She heard five children. Seven dogs. One guard outside the main door, panicking into a radio.
Maisie kicked the grate.
It did not move.
She kicked again.
Pain burst through her heel.
A small boy below whispered, “Who’s there?”
“Maisie.”
“The blind girl?”
“Yes.”
“The bad man said you were coming.”
“Bad men talk too much.”
The boy sniffed.
“Can you open the grate?” she asked.
“I can try.”
Small hands scraped metal from below.
Maisie pushed from above.
The grate fell.
She dropped into the room and landed hard on her side.
Children rushed toward her.
Dogs lifted their heads, uncertain.
Maisie forced herself up. “Listen. We have to leave through the vent.”
A girl cried, “The dogs won’t go.”
Maisie turned toward the animals.
They were terrified. Injured. Too large for the vent, most of them.
And the timer had maybe forty seconds left.
Maisie heard something near the floor.
A drain.
No.
A tunnel beneath the drain cover.
“Help me lift this,” she said.
The oldest child, a boy about twelve, knelt beside her. Together they pulled at the metal cover until it shifted.
Cold air rose from below.
An old drainage tunnel.
Big enough for children.
Maybe dogs.
Maybe hope.
“Go,” Maisie said.
The children climbed down one by one.
The dogs followed after she hummed, uncertain but willing.
Then the holding room door opened.
The guard stepped in.
Maisie stood alone beside the open drain.
The guard raised his gun.
Above them, Cyrus roared.
The main door burst inward.
Julian stood behind him.
“Touch her,” Julian said, “and Black Orchard will be the kindest thing that ever happened to you.”
The guard dropped the gun.
Maisie smiled weakly.
May you like
“Found the kids.”
Then the first bomb detonated.
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