All the Pretty Ghosts (The Never Alone Series Book 1) (19 page)

Taz found it hilarious, holding his belly while he laughed at the poor kid. Jet seemed like a saint in comparison. And that was saying something.

If the gang were here to raid the place, all plans of bringing back supplies to the shelter were going to go up in flames. I didn’t want that to happen but I wasn’t sure how I could stop it either.

I had to find a way.

Oliver was looking at me when I glanced his way. I nodded toward the path we had followed in, silently asking him if we should get out now while we still could.

He nodded.

We started creeping back down the aisles again. This time I was extra careful not to trip over anything. We could not make any noise.

There were only about half a dozen boys in the place, they couldn’t carry everything. If we waited until they left, we could come back inside and take the rest. They’d never know we were here.

My ankle caught on a lever and tripped me. I bit my lip so I didn’t cry out, but my foot hit the ground hard. The noise sounded like a jet engine in the quiet of the factory.

Oliver and I both froze. If we could stay completely still, maybe they wouldn’t notice us. Maybe they never heard the sound or didn’t think it was worth investigating.

Maybe wishes were pennies.

And I’d be rich.

The sound of the feet rushing toward us echoed the beating of my heart. There were four of them standing in front of me before I could react.

Taz had to be at the front of them, of course. “It’s the princess!” He stepped closer, walking around me like I was the prized cow at the county fair. “I was hoping I’d see you again. Our time before was cut too short.”

My eyes followed his figure, not daring to leave him for a second. I didn’t trust Taz. Not by a million miles. The memory of his hands on me last time we had met was still painfully real in my mind. All I had to do was close my eyes and I was back there again.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He purposefully rushed at me, expecting me to flinch or step backwards. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“I just don’t wish to speak to you,” I replied, refusing to let my voice shake. I wished it sounded more confident than it did. The boys would be able to see right through my little act.

Taz spat at my shoes. I still refused to move. No matter how disgusting it was.

He turned away from me, addressing the others. “Tie her up, we’ll deal with her later. Then, get back to work.”

I didn’t have a chance of moving before the boys grabbed me. One on either side made sure I couldn’t go anywhere. They dragged me away, the entire time I cursed my stupid clumsy feet and awkward machinery.

As I was turning to go around a corner, I glanced back to look for Oliver. He was crouched behind some boxes, his eyes wide with the horror of what was happening.

For just a second, we locked eyes.

It was all we needed.

He told me he would find a way to get me out. He told me he would come to my rescue before the boys could hurt me in any way. He told me he was there for me.

Forever and always.

Chapter Sixteen

B
ehind all the boxes at the back of the factory was a set of stairs leading to a mezzanine level. There was no railing, just a sheer drop – a fact the boys liked to exploit by shoving me toward the side every chance they got.

They found my fear funny.

I found them repugnant.

The only consolation when we reached the top was that it was brighter up there. Large windows allowed the sunlight to come in, even through the winter weather. It was warmer, almost pleasant if that was at all possible.

One of the boys found a seat while another had picked up rope along the way. They wasted no time in throwing me on the chair and binding my hands, feet, and chest.

I couldn’t move.

Breathing was barely possible.

They left me, answering a call from Taz to hurry the hell up and get back to work. Like they were having fun with me or something.

Perhaps Taz wanted to get me alone again. Finish what he started before. Oliver wouldn’t let that happen, I knew he wouldn’t. We were a team and teams didn’t let each other down. We worked in unison, solving all the wrongs with the world.

But the more minutes that ticked by, the larger the panic grew. If they found him too, it was going to be all over. Neither of us would stand a chance against the six of them. Not when they played dirty. Not when they wanted to kill us.

I tried to focus, studying the room so I wasn’t completely drowned by the sheer fear coursing through my veins. The floor was covered in junk, another layer of dust covering it again. I doubted the room saw much traffic even before the Event.

The windows weren’t the kind that opened, so that would put a stop to any heroic ideas I had of jumping from the second floor and landing on my feet to run.

I could hide, but that would only buy me time. It wouldn’t guarantee my freedom. Nothing would.

Where was Oliver?

If I could somehow get out of the ropes I could try making a run for the stairs. If they didn’t immediately catch me, I could hide in the machinery. It was just dark enough down there to make searching for me difficult. I could get lucky.

Probably not.

Luck wasn’t my friend.

I tested the rope, seeing if there was any give. My feet were about half a foot apart, the slack might allow me to walk slowly. Or hop. I could probably hop quite fast if my life depended on it.

My hands were another matter. My wrists were pushed together, all I could do was entwine my own fingers. I couldn’t reach the rope enough to work the knots. I came to the same conclusion about the rope around my chest. Straining against those only guaranteed my lungs a painful experience.

Movement at the stairs caught my eye, making my head shoot up. Oliver had made it. He wasn’t tied up and he wasn’t followed. He had come to save me, just like I thought he would.

He would be able to get me out of the ropes in no time. Then it would only be a matter of running. If he had made it up the stairs, the boys couldn’t be watching it too closely. Hope filled me, giving me the boost I really needed.

The moment Oliver saw me, he raced over. One look at the ropes and his hands reached toward me.

And then stopped.

Footsteps were stomping up the stairs.

“Hide,” I whispered urgently.

Oliver struggled between staying with me and hiding to save himself as his eyes darted everywhere. But he couldn’t stay with me, doing so would ensure both our deaths.

“Hurry,” I said, nodding toward the mess at the side. “We can’t both get caught.”

He wasn’t happy about it, but he went anyway. Diving behind a pile of junk, he made it just in time before Taz reached the top of the stairs.

Taz was alone. But his hands weren’t empty.

In one was a can of kerosene.

In the other was a lighter.

“Jet said you were hot, so I thought I’d put it to the test,” he said, taking the cap off the can. “It’s about to get really hot up here.”

He let out a belly-shaking laugh as he started pouring kerosene on the floor. He covered the junk – including the pile Oliver was hiding behind.

As he moved, he whistled a tune to himself. I didn’t recognize it, I was too busy freaking out. My time limit on escaping was quickly counting down and I still didn’t have a plan.

I couldn’t see Oliver without making it obvious I was looking at him so I forced myself to fix my gaze forwards. His movements would occasionally appear in my periphery but I didn’t dare turn around for a better look.

Taz returned to stand in front of me. “Do you smell gas?” He laughed like he had said the most hilarious thing in the world. His contempt disgusted me.

“I want to speak with Jet,” I said. It had worked for me with the mole people, I had to take my chance again.

“Jet’s not here. Are you blind as well as stupid?”

“I’m his property, you can’t do anything to me unless he says so.” I was glad I didn’t see Oliver’s reaction to that statement. I didn’t want him to think Jet had any claim on me. But, right now, I would say anything to get out of this room alive.

My comment spurred Taz into a brand new fit of laughter. “His property? Who do you think you are? I’ve got news for ya, girly, you’re nothing. And I don’t give a shit what Jet thinks about it.”

“He’s your leader, your boss.”

He leaned down until our noses were almost touching. Every inch of my body wanted to turn away from him but I forced myself to stay still.

I would not show weakness.

“Nobody is the boss of me,” he snarled, his caustic breath infiltrating my nostrils. “If I want to burn you alive, I’m gonna burn you alive. Got it?”

I wasn’t going to answer.

I
couldn’t
answer.

His open hand collided with my cheek as the slap forced my head to the side. In that second, I caught a glimpse of Oliver. His mouth was set in a grimace, his eyes full of hatred for my tormentor.

“Got it?” he yelled at me again. The rage was barely being contained within him. How Jet could be friends with someone like this told me a lot about the guy. If there was any chance of him helping me with the adults, they were certainly completely quashed now.

He raised his hand, ready to strike again. I quickly replied. “I’ve got it.”

“Good.” His lips slithered into a smile, showing me all his yellowed teeth. “Now, let’s get on with the show. I’ve always wanted to see what it looks like when someone burns to death.”

Taz took a step back again, playing with the lid of his Zippo lighter. His eyes were crazed as they studied me. He was relishing every moment of my torture.

For lack of any other option, my mouth started running. “Please don’t do this. You can let me go and just tell everyone you killed me. I will disappear, they’d never know any different.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you don’t really want to kill me.” Except, he really did. “I’m a hassle. Burning me will cause this entire building to come down and you need the stuff inside. You don’t want to explain to everyone what happened, that you lost your temper.”

He wasn’t buying any of it. Not that I really expected him to. Taz wasn’t the kind of guy that cared about consequences for his actions. He did things first and then dealt with whatever resulted.

“No deal, girly,” he finally replied. He flicked the lighter and the flame came alive. “Have a nice death.”

He held a rag over the lighter and it quickly caught alight. He dropped it on the floor and hurried to the stairs. He stood, taking one last look at me as the flames suddenly hit the kerosene. A great
whoosh
rang out as a wall of fire was put between us.

His laughter carried as he went down the stairs.

In less time than it took to blink, the fire spread. With the kerosene feeding the flames like a greedy child, it blazed a ring around me. The heat quickly rose to rival any furnace. The burning junk crackled and hissed as it was eaten up.

My head snapped around, desperate to see Oliver. He needed to get me out of my bindings. There was no way I could even think of getting through the flames until the ropes were removed. He was the only one who could help me now.

“Oliver!” I called out.

I couldn’t see him. The boxes he had been hiding behind were burning. Colors of orange, yellow, and red were lighting up the room.

He might have been just as trapped as I was.

We could both die. Right here, right now. It could be the end.

I bucked against the ropes, not really having any plan but needing to do something anyway. Panic was about to consume me and it took everything I had to keep it at bay. Doing so now would guarantee my death.

My eyes took in the room again, now starting to water from the smoke. We were at the top of the building, the smog didn’t have anywhere to escape. The grey haze just accumulated, the wispy tendrils curling upwards and enveloping everything it found.

Oliver was suddenly standing in front of me. He had made it through the ring of fire. “Please undo the ropes! We need to get out of here!”

“I can’t help you,” he muttered.

My eyes found his, locking for a moment. His were full of regret, something I really didn’t want to see right at this moment. I wanted him to be determined, angry, focused.

Anything but regretful.

Anything.

“Just help me with the ropes, we can do this,” I urged. I needed to convince him because we were losing seconds and every single one counted. The heat was cooking me from the outside in and the smoke was making water accumulate in my eyes until everything was a blurred mess.

“I’m so sorry, Everly,” he said, shaking his head.

Why was he just standing there?

“Don’t be sorry, just help me. Please.”

“I can’t.”

Tears were starting to streak down my cheeks and I wasn’t entirely sure it was only because of the smoke anymore. There was nothing about Oliver that was making sense. All he had to do was bend down and loosen my ropes. We could then get away, never have to see fire again.

“Please,” I begged, sobbing as I spoke. “Just help me.”

“I can’t,” he repeated.

“Oliver,” I moaned his name. The fire was so close it was starting to lick at my clothes. If it liked the taste, it was going to consume me whole.

I was going to burn alive.

Did Oliver hate me that much that he wouldn’t even help me survive? Why wasn’t he saving himself? He could at least save himself.

He kneeled down so we were eye level. “I am so, so sorry, Everly. I never meant for this to happen. I thought…” His words trailed off as tears welled in his eyes. I wanted to brush them away, they didn’t belong on his face.

We were going to die together.

All because he wouldn’t help me.

“What are you talking about? Oliver, please. It doesn’t have to be like this,” I begged. The smoke was starting to fill my lungs, clogging my throat and making every breath burn.

Then he reached forward. Oliver actually moved for the ropes, he was going to help me. Maybe we would have a chance of getting out. Whatever had gotten into him was gone, he was going to help me.

His hands went through the ropes.

He couldn’t hold onto them.

My mouth hung open as I stared between him and the ropes. I had to be seeing things, imagining things because of the fire and the smoke.

I was delirious.

Oliver tried again, his jaw clenched as he concentrated. Like if he put enough thought into the movement, his hands wouldn’t go through the ropes again.

But they did.

Again and again, no matter how hard he concentrated and tried, he couldn’t hold onto the ropes. I watched him get frustrated and it was heartbreaking.

Because it could only mean one thing.

Oliver was dead.