It took me a moment to realize that Dr. Clark was talking about Emilia, not me.
“High value or low value?” the guard she’d addressed asked.
“Low.”
Low value, because Emilia’s parents are dentists, I thought, the realization somehow managing to pierce its way through the constant and overwhelming terror that had claimed my entire body. Low value, because her family doesn’t have anything the terrorists want.
Anna Hayden’s father was the acting president of the United States. High value. It wasn’t much of a stretch, given my relation to Ivy and William Keyes, to think that they’d consider me high value, too.
I heard the door to the library open.
“Boss wants to talk to you,” a new voice informed Dr. Clark. “A couple of kids are missing.”
Boss? I thought. What boss? Dr. Clark had said that killing John Thomas wasn’t her idea. Then whose idea was it? Who pulled the trigger?
It had to be someone at Hardwicke. Someone with access to the security cameras. Someone with the authority to bring new people in.
I didn’t finish that thought. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t do anything until I heard Dr. Clark and the others leave.
I heard the door shut behind them. But it wasn’t until I looked down at the tablet Emilia had thrust into my hands and saw two guards pass, one escorting Emilia and the other striding next to Dr. Clark, that I let myself suck in a breath of air.
Alone.
CHAPTER 49
I forced myself to move. My leg muscles screamed in objection. My feet were asleep, my muscles in stone-hard knots from holding myself still. My jaw hurt—I’d clamped it down too hard for too long.
I stayed low and moved slowly, trying to avoid the motion sensor. I have to get out of here.
Out of this library, and out of Hardwicke. My mind went immediately to the tunnel, the one that let out in the Aquatics Center. If I could get past the guards, get outside, make it to the tunnel—
This place is a fortress. The dead Secret Service agent’s words echoed in my mind, followed by a statement issued by one of the guards. The snipers are in place.
If I went outside, they’d see me.
If they thought I was making a run for it, they’d shoot me.
No way out. I tried to ignore the low, insistent voice that told me this wouldn’t end well, that if the terrorists had used the element of surprise to let more than thirty armed men onto campus, if they had snipers on the roof and were prepared for the onslaught of a SWAT team or worse, I stood no chance of getting out of here.
That voice told me to hide.
It told me to stay here, where it was safe.
There is no safe, I thought. Dr. Clark had ordered the guards to take a head count and figure out who was missing. Once she realized I was unaccounted for, they’d sweep the building.
She’d remember that Emilia had surrendered herself here.
I have to move. I have to go—
“Where?” The word burst out of my mouth, a whisper as raw as an open wound. My chest was tight, each breath hard-won. My throat hurt. My eyes stung
Pull it together, Tess. Think.
I turned my attention back to Emilia’s tablet. If she’d managed to tap the security feed, she was on Hardwicke’s wireless, and if the wireless was up and running, I might be able to get a message out.
I launched a browser. Every site I tried to go to was blocked. I tried to text, tried my phone again—nothing.
Pulling the security feeds back up, I stared at them, trying to memorize the patterns of movement.
I can’t stay here. They’ll find me.
I had to move—without being seen.
Experimentally, I tapped the screen. Instead of a split screen, that let me go through the feeds, one by one. There were more than six of them now.
Armed guards at every exit.
There were over thirty cameras in the main building, giving me eyes on most of the rooms.
Including this one.
I couldn’t see myself on-screen. That was good, given that whoever was sitting up in the Hardwicke security offices right now was probably seeing the exact same thing.
If Emilia were here, she might be able to tell me how to knock some of these cameras out.
But Emilia had given herself up to save me. Why? I didn’t have time to let that question plague me.
You’re a fixer, I told myself. You don’t ask why. You take what you’re given, and you find a way.
I went through the security cameras a second time and took stock of where the gaps in the coverage were. No cameras in the bathrooms. No camera in the security center itself.
I tried not to dwell on the footage of the classrooms, of the students trapped inside. They lay on their stomachs, hands secured behind their backs.