Gauntlet: Chapter 10 (final)

Chance looked up and caught August’s wrist as it arced down. They grappled as the syringe hit the floor.

Clio scrambled backwards, trying to get to her feet, and her hand brushed something cold and hard–a statue that had fallen. Her fingers wrapped around the bronze figure.

She lunged toward August and swung as hard as she could.

The statue caught August on the temple; he crumpled just like Sunshine, only he fell all the way to the floor in a limp heap. Clio stared at Chance with wild eyes, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest.

“Wh-what did you do to Sunshine?” she blurted. The kneeling giant hadn’t moved a hair.

“Trigger phrase. August’s specialty.” Chance smiled grimly. “He didn’t know I had one, too.”

Clio felt ill, but she was too keyed up to dwell on it. She watched as Chance knelt next to August and managed to hoist him over his shoulder.

“He’s not dead, is he?”

“No. He’ll live.” Chance turned his dark eyes to her. “Thank you.”

Clio stared back, feeling rather numb.

“He was going to sacrifice Sunshine to get the bracelet. Sunshine would’ve given it to him.” Clio’s revulsion broke through some of her quiet shock. “And he’d have it free and clear.”

Chance grunted. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. Bring the syringe.”

Clio picked it up gingerly and followed Chance to another room. She opened the door for him and looked around at the medical supplies that lined the walls.

A dull thud made Clio jump. Chance had dumped August’s limp body onto a gurney. She hurried to help Chance fasten the restraints, breathing easier once the wrist and ankles straps were attached. The three straps across the body were probably overkill, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances–and neither was Chance, apparently.

August was already starting to stir; Clio took an involuntary step backward when his eyes opened. She could see the exact moment his confusion cleared. He jerked violently and spewed a litany of foul language, his gaze locked on her.

Clio recoiled.

“It’s all right.” Chance advanced on the gurney, holding a bit gag made of black leather and a long, slender bar. “You don’t have to listen to this.”

“Chance,” August immediately began to plead. “Don’t do this. It’s always been us. You were the one who turned your back on that! We can finally do what we talked about–put our research out there, get the best of both worlds! Chance…”

Chance paused, but his expression was stony, even as August shot Clio a venomous look. “Don’t let her come between us! You can’t trust her. She just wants to use you!”

Chance gave a short laugh. He bent over August, who tossed his head wildly as Chance tried to force the gag into his mouth. Chance grunted impatiently and called Clio.

“You’ve got the syringe? If he doesn’t calm down, just jab it in his thigh.”

August shook his head frantically. “Chance…what are you doing? Don’t. That’s just a sedative. Until I could get you to listen to reason. Things will change–I swear. I won’t hurt Clio. We can all work together–”

“It’s too late,” Chance said softly. “And we both know you’ll say anything to get what you want. You’ll do anything.”

“Wai–mmph…”

Chance shoved the bit into August’s mouth. August struggled until Clio moved forward at Chance’s nod and held the syringe poised over August’s leg. She swallowed hard, but shot him a look that promised she’d do it if she had to.

August’s eyes rolled wildly, but he stopped resisting. Chance buckled the gag and tightened it until August could do no more than make garbled noises.

“Let’s go. The sooner we get out of here, the better.” Chance started rolling the gurney out into the hallway, and Clio followed, holding out the syringe.

“What about this?” she asked.

“We’ll keep it.” Chance took it from her and tucked it into a pocket at the side of the gurney. “Just in case.”

August struggled again, making guttural grunts around the gag, but Chance didn’t even glance down at him. She jogged along as they wheeled the gurney through the hallways.

“Why are you so quiet?” Chance finally asked when all Clio did was glance at him.

She shook her head and shrugged. “I…I clocked August over the head.” She started giggling, and it turned into full-fledged, breathless laughter. She had to lean against the gurney as she bent over from the force of it. “Did you see him just drop?”

A snarl from August made her laugh even harder. She looked down at his furious eyes, his disheveled hair, and the mortification on his face at his undignified state. He was seething.

“It was…” All of a sudden, her knees turned to jelly as whatever adrenaline had been fueling her disappeared. Clio sank down to a crouch against the wall, still laughing.

“Oh my God, it was so…” Clio gasped. “I thought… I thought Sunshine was going to kill you.” The hysterical laughter went on long enough to make her stomach hurt. It was better than crying, though–better than the appalled nausea that made her want to throw up. Things hadn’t gone as planned, exactly, but they were still alive.

Chance’s eyebrows rose, and his mouth quirked. He walked around the gurney and held out a hand.

Clio grabbed it and let him pull her to her feet, a few stray giggles slipping out as she tried to compose herself. She leaned against him for a moment, appreciating that he understood her inappropriate release of emotion.

“And you say my sense of humor is odd,” Chance said dryly.

“I’m sorry.” Clio didn’t mean it. “But that felt kind of good.”

“I’m sure. But we need to get out of here.”

Clio flashed Chance a smile. “Right.” Despite everything, her spirits were soaring now that they were finally on their way out.

They rolled August through the hallways to a different exit than the one Black Jack had taken her to. A small elevator–just big enough to fit the length of the gurney–took them to street level. They slipped out of the building and were able to navigate the alleys without seeing anyone else. The only tricky part was getting August into the tunnels that led to the tower.

By collapsing the leg-locking mechanism, they were able to slide him down into the tunnel. Clio’s grip slipped at the end and August landed on the floor with a hard bump. He groaned.

“Oops.” Clio kept a straight face as they raised the gurney onto its wheels again.

Chance snorted. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.” Clio felt like she had every right to enjoy a little revenge. She’d feel even better once August realized just what was going to happen to him. She wished she had a camera.

“You’re kind of scary when you smile like that,” Chance observed, one eyebrow cocked in mock wariness.

“Don’t worry,” Clio said cheekily, “I won’t hurt you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Clio was about to retort when a gagging sound stopped her. She looked down and saw August’s face twisted in a look of disgust, obvious even with the slight distortion of his features caused by the gag. Apparently, August didn’t appreciate their banter.

She made sure to aim for every rough patch and bump in the floor she could find, and they made good time through the tunnels. When they emerged to street level to make their way to the other tower, their pace slowed a bit; they still had to be wary about any people loyal to August. But no one appeared, and soon enough, the shadow of the tower fell across their path.

For the last time, Clio opened the door, and they pushed August inside. He was all attention then, doing his best to take in everything from his limited viewpoint. His eyes roved greedily around the interior as if to consume all its secrets.

It wasn’t like Clio wanted to keep him in suspense. She rolled him right up to the elevator and let him get an eyeful of the panel. His reaction was gratifying. His eyes widened, and he jerked at his restraints. Garbled words spilled out from behind the gag.

For once, Clio wanted to hear what he had to say. She reached for the buckles behind his head and peeled the gag away.

August’s jaw worked as he stretched the muscles that had been locked in place, but he didn’t speak yet. His fingers spread and stretched toward the display of symbols. His face was transformed by a simmering excitement that made no sense given that he was still strapped down and helpless.

Clio watched him with a revolted kind of fascination. He really did completely buy into his own hype.

“This is it, Chance,” he said, his voice hoarse and throbbing with barely leashed exultation. “We can finally do everything we talked about.” He ignored Clio completely, turning the full force of his charisma on Chance. “I know we’ve had our differences, but just think…just think what we can do now.”

“Yes,” Chance said softly. “I have thought about it.” His fingers reached for the buckle of the strap at August’s wrist, but he paused in the middle of loosening the leather strap. “It’s you who forgot our plans, wasn’t it?”

“No, I never did! I got sidetracked–I admit that. Maybe I did some things that I’m not proud of, but I was…I was angry that we were trapped.” August spoke rapidly, his feverish gaze locked on Chance. “But that’s over. We have everything we want now…everything we need. Chance, you can’t abandon what we started now.”

“What about Clio?”

August’s eyes flicked to her for a moment, but returned to Chance. “She can come with us, okay? I’m sorry I stood in your way before. I was too focused on making sure we could get out of here–making everything we planned happen. I’m sorry.” He rolled his head to meet Clio’s riveted gaze. His expression appeared to exude such sincere remorse that Clio was almost impressed by his ability to lie so well.

“Clio, I know I didn’t treat you well, but you know how this place can get you to. I had to find a way out. I had to.”

She let out a breath. “Then you want to get out? Even with me?” Now that it had come to this point, she felt as if she was watching from a distance–above everything, yet also thrumming with a sense of secret knowledge, of superiority, of the deep-rooted amusement that came from knowing she held all the cards. Was this how August felt when he manipulated people?

“Yes.” His earnest murmur, accompanied by a heartfelt grin that showed his dimples, was perfectly designed to emphasize his boyish charm. “We’ll beat whoever’s behind the Gauntlet at their own game. Finally. I know you want that.”

“Yeah,” Clio agreed. “I do.” She nodded at Chance, and his fingers worked at the buckle of the restraint.

“Yes,” August hissed, his fingers twitching in anticipation. “You won’t regret this, I swear.”

Chance lifted August’s arm. The sleeve of his jacket slid down, exposing the chain bracelet that held the heart charm. August let him press the little charm into the matching groove. A slight magnetic pull engaged and it clicked in place.

Chance pulled Clio’s bracelet from his own pocket while August watched, an avid gleam in his eyes. One by one, Chance removed the charms and pushed them into their slots.

Without any fanfare, the elevator door slid open.

It was empty and plain–an elevator that could exist in any building in the world, just like those Clio had first encountered in the Gauntlet. Her heart sped up and she looked at Chance.

This is it.

He nodded, a small smile playing about his lips.

A small click was the only warning before the magnetism that held the charms released. The heart fell and swung from the bracelet around August’s wrist, while the other three charms clinked lightly on the floor. Chance bent over and picked them up, then passed them over to Clio along with the bracelet itself–from which the joker charm still dangled. “This is yours.”

“What are you doing?” August cried.

“Don’t worry,” Clio said with a vicious grin. “You’re still coming with us. It’s just that it’s going to be a one-way trip.”

“He’s going with you,” Chance corrected her. He gave the gurney a push through the open elevator doors, ignoring August’s fresh curses and frothing speech.

Clio froze. “Chance…no, you’re coming, too.”

“I can’t just leave things like this. There’s a power vacuum now, and August isn’t the only one to worry about.”

Clio’s insides shriveled. “But you don’t have to fix it all!” she said angrily. “Why can’t anything ever be easy here?!”

“I’ve been a big part of the mess August made. I have to clean it up.” Chance didn’t flinch from her anger. “I never told you I was going with you,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but…but I thought…” Clio trailed off.

August started laughing, and they both looked at him with varying degrees of weary disgust.

“Looks like you’re getting dumped again, Clio,” August crowed.

Clio’s eyes narrowed, but before she could retort, Chance pulled her forward into the open doorway of the elevator.

“I’m not dumping you,” Chance said with an infuriating smirk, one that made her stomach flutter a little even as she frowned up at him. “Are you dumping me?”

“I should,” Clio quipped. “Long-distance relationships suck.”

Chance’s expression softened, and this time, he kissed her. Even August’s snide remarks couldn’t ruin it.

Chance pulled back and smiled at her. “Try to resist the temptation to throttle him and focus on getting out.”

Clio laughed. “No promises.”

The smile faded from Chance’s face, and he gently pushed Clio backward. “Take this.” He handed her a small envelope. “Open it when you’re home.”

She nodded, her fingers curling around the envelope. Her throat tightened, and Clio couldn’t do anything but stare mutely as Chance took a step back and the doors began to close.

August thrashed and cursed behind her, but she barely noticed. She was finally leaving, after all this time, because of the help she’d received from Chance and Britt and Black Jack–even Lilah. She never would have expected her emotions to be so mixed when it came to this.

Right before the doors sealed, she reached out blindly toward the gap. “Chance!”

Her hand slapped impotently against the blank doors, and her head dropped. “Thank you…” she whispered.

The elevator took them down. The doors slid open and a long hallway stretched out before her.

Clio tucked the envelope away, took a deep breath, and wheeled August out of the elevator. Curiosity had shut him up for the moment. His head lifted as he peered forward.

Doorways lined the walls on both sides, and Clio could see that the doors to the rooms were half open. She didn’t relish the idea of having to walk past each one. This place was clean and obviously well-maintained compared to the nightmare building she’d first been thrown into, but it was still creepy.

Her gaze focused on the far end of the corridor and the exit sign. The red letters were a bright beacon.

Clio began walking, her boots clicking on the clean tile. She glanced into the rooms as she passed them. All held neat beds–made with fresh linens–and small items of furniture that were dusted and bare, just waiting for an occupant. It was like a before and after picture, only she was seeing it in reverse order. The chaos and grime of her beginning had finally led to this.

August found his voice again.

“Clio, listen to me. I know you have every right to be angry, but I–”

“Shut up, August, or I’ll drug you right now,” Clio said mildly. “You said you wanted out, even if it was with me–so you’re getting your wish.”

His face screwed up in desperate anger, and his eyes rolled back a little as he tried to look at her. “But I– You won’t have any way to get back inside. Not unless we work together.”

Clio laughed. “I have no intention of letting you get back inside. I’m going to take you through that exit door, and then I’m going to leave you there–wherever it is. Then I’ll destroy the rest of my charms so you can never use them.”

“You have no idea what you’ve been given! This is why you deserve to be treated like a pawn! What’s so great about your life out there? You were so scared in here–you just scuttled around never thinking, never seeing the potential, just reacting to things like a dumb lab rat.”

It stung. Clio couldn’t help but lash back. “Isn’t that exactly what you are, too?”

“I’m no one’s lab rat,” August sneered. “I made choices. I did things. Brilliant things. I didn’t run and hide. And I’m not a hypocrite like you.”

“I’m not a hypocrite,” Clio said angrily.

“You cry about how badly you’ve been treated, but you’ve used plenty of people in here, or you’d never have gotten so far. You’re just as willing to use people as I am–and then leave them behind.”

“That’s not true,” Clio said with less confidence than she liked.

“It is. We both know it’s true.” August strained his neck to look at her. “But it’s not too late.”

Clio paused just before the exit and walked around the side of the gurney. “I never said I was giving up on the people in here.”

“No? How are you going to help them? You need me to do that,” August countered.

Clio watched a smug smile spread across August’s face. “I’m so embarrassed that I ever found you attractive. Seriously.” Clio bent down and grinned just inches from his nose. “Keep the heart charm. Think of me every time you look at it. Remember it was me who kicked you out of your sandbox and me who kept you from going back.”

“I’ll make you regret this.” August practically choked on the words as Clio leaned against the bar of the door and pushed. She began pulling him through. “No matter how long it–”

A shrieking siren pierced the air as the heavy door swung shut; the bright light beyond flickered and went out.

A familiar rush of adrenaline raced through her veins. Clio froze, one hand on the gurney, her face raised to test the air.

A sudden whoosh of something stirred the loose hair around her face. A hiss, loud in the dark, came from up high, along with a faint chemical odor. A moment later, her knees began to sink to the ground and her eyelids drooped.

A smile curved her lips before she hit the floor.

***

The warmth was oppressive.

It woke her from her dream, but the light kept Clio from opening her eyes. It was too bright beyond her eyelids. Clio groaned and rolled away from it and into a blessed, cool dimness.

Wait.

After a moment, she forced her eyelids apart. She slowly turned her head, blinking rapidly in the light.

She was alone in a large room, lying next to a shaft of sunlight that streamed in through a stained glass window above a set of grand, red doors. The room was cavernous, but spotless. Surfaces were shiny and immaculate. Her heart leapt into her throat.

This was it. This was The Building–the first face of the Gauntlet, the building she’d entered on that fateful night she’d met the Jacks.

She was finally back at the start.

She pushed herself to her feet, then turned slowly in a complete circle to take in everything. She half-expected to see the crazy old lady who’d given her the bracelet still huddled in a pile of trash in the corner.

But there was nothing. No lady, no rubbish, no rats–not even August.

She spared a brief thought for him, but he wasn’t her concern past that exit door. This was her ending–back out the way she came. It made a Gauntlet sort of sense, she supposed.

All she had to do was walk out the door.

A strange reluctance made her limbs feel heavy as she crossed the last twenty feet. The clomp of her boots rang loudly in her ears.

She threw a look over her shoulder at the door at the far end of the entry hall.

“What would happen if I turned around and went back into that maze?” she asked quietly, although her voice still sounded loud in the empty room. No answer came, so Clio was left to wonder.

A dry laugh escaped her. “I’m not about to find out now.”

She faced forward and pushed the huge doors open. Bright sunshine made her blink as she stepped outside. She sneezed three times as the sensation tickled her nose. A lovely breeze cooled her warm skin, and, even more wonderful, the sounds of people and not so distant traffic reached her ears.

She stumbled down the steps into the odd little neighborhood she remembered. Its squat buildings looked the same, but not ominous at all in the early morning light. She saw clotheslines adorned with white linens and bright clothing. She heard laughter, and two small boys ran across the courtyard, chasing a ball. A woman’s voice called from somewhere.

Across the small square, she could see a vendor’s stall at the end of an alley. Her nose told her it was selling pastries and breads. The sweet smell made her stomach growl. Clio realized that she was grinning widely.

“Everything’s still here. Still the same.”

She’d questioned her sanity more than once, but other than the fact that she was talking to herself on the steps of an abandoned–so to speak–building, this was reality. Normalcy. She appeared to have finally reentered the life she remembered.

The two little boys grabbed their ball and looked at her. Their heads bent together and they giggled. Clio didn’t mind.

“Time to go,” she murmured, and she walked down the steps.

At the bottom, her backpack sat innocently on the lowest stair. Clio sucked in a gasp of surprised pleasure. The unexpected sight of this mundane reminder of how she’d started out left her so disoriented that she had to sink down and sit on the steps.

Inside the backpack were all the little necessities of her life out here: keys, identification, money. Even the book she’d taken during a scavenging run with Britt was there.

All the realities of her old life slammed into her at once. Would her apartment still be there? Would her job? Would her family have come looking for her? What kind of mess would she be stepping back into?

She’d thought of those things before, of course, in the Gauntlet. But after the first couple of weeks, they’d become distant worries, almost unreal because her immediate problems were so much more compelling.

What was she going to do if everything was gone? How would she explain?

“Hey!”

Clio looked up to see a red ball rolling toward her. It bounced against her feet, and the two boys waved their arms wildly. “Throw it back!”

She stood up, slinging her backpack over one shoulder and hefting the lightweight ball in the other hand. She drew her arm back and threw. The ball arced high, and the boys laughed and ran, jostling each other as they vied to catch it.

A bemused smile crossed her face, and she began walking toward the alley and that delicious smell. First things first. She would have breakfast, and then she would see what happened after that.

She found herself noticing, as she made her way through the city, the vividness of the day, the clarity of the speech around her. Even the facades of the buildings seemed to stand out in sharp relief. The cooing pigeons intruded stridently on her notice, as did all the pungent odors of the city.

But it was the people she noticed the most. The man she bought a pastry from–did he look at her just a little too long? The woman across the aisle on the bus–did she give Clio a knowing smile? Even those little boys in the courtyard made her think.

How did she know she wasn’t still playing the game?

“Don’t be paranoid,” she said under her breath, though strangely, the uncertainty didn’t alarm her. The too-fast race of her pulse put a bounce in her step, and she approached the brownstone walk-up that housed her fourth-floor apartment.

Her key fit.

The apartment was untouched. Her things were just as she had left them. The air was stale; she opened all the windows to let the morning breeze circulate through the small rooms. Clio pulled off her boots and backpack, sat on her couch, and put her feet on the small coffee table in front of it.

“I’m home,” she said softly, testing the truth of it.

There was so much to think about–mundane things. Should she contact her job? Her family? But somehow, she wasn’t worried. She had a feeling that it had all been taken care of.

A car honked on the street. Other sounds filtered through the open windows as Clio reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope Chance had given her.

Her fingers smoothed over the unmarked surface. The envelope was light and thin. She pried up a corner of the V-shaped flap and tore it open. The only thing inside was a small card.

On its plain, white face, an address glittered in gold ink.

***

Clio navigated the busy avenue with brisk steps. Her freshly cut hair brushed against her jawline as the wind ruffled it. Over the last two weeks, the weather had finally begun to turn, and the clammy heat of summer had given way to crisper mornings.

The people on the street wore lightweight jackets or pullovers with hoods that could be easily removed when it warmed up later in the day. Clio was just happy it gave her an excuse to wear her boots.

Their magic seemed to work outside the Gauntlet just as well, making her feel ten feet taller and strong. A harlequin diamond-patterned scarf was knotted loosely at her throat, set off by her black sweater. She felt confident, enjoying the looks sent her way that told her she was striking as she walked with her head up and her eyes alert.

She felt ready.

Clio paused at the curb and raised her hand; a yellow cab pulled up beside her. The cab driver threw an assessing look at her over his shoulder when she gave him the address, but he turned back with a grunt of acknowledgment and drove.

They wound through an area of the city far from any stations of public transportation. This elite neighborhood seemed worlds away from the frenetic bustle of the parts of the city she knew.

They pulled up in front of a building that was tall and slender, a mere sliver compared to the high-rises of the city’s common quarters. It was beautiful–glass and steel, almost too fragile to exist.

Her stomach churned as she stepped out of the cab. Every step toward the building’s entrance made it twist a little more, and her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the intercom next to the door. She was highly conscious of the security cameras trained on her from both corners of the entryway.

A woman’s voice acknowledged her presence–muted, but clear. “Yes?”

“I’m here…” Clio began, but she stumbled on her words. “I’m here to see…”

With a sudden flush of embarrassment, Clio realized that as much as she’d rehearsed the things she wanted to say to whoever she found at this address, she had not planned how to introduce herself–or even how to get in the door.

“Yes?” the voice asked again in clear amusement.

That made Clio angry. “I’m here to see whoever’s behind the Gauntlet,” she said bluntly.

The silence went on for too long, and for a moment, Clio felt a sick sinking in the pit of her stomach. What if she’d come here for nothing? What if these people thought she was crazy or trying to scam them or God knows what? Maybe this was just a final way to trick her.

Clio frowned, but then she raised her arm to the camera and tugged at the sleeve of her sweater to expose her wrist. The joker charm–all alone–swung from the silver bracelet.

The intercom buzzed loudly, and Clio heard the locks on the door click.

Proceed to Chapter 10, page 4–>