Chapter 4 - Down Where the Hotel Breathes

Adrian stared at the maintenance sheet. "That door was marked as an emergency exit."

"It still is," Marisol said. "They painted over the sign when they renovated."

From far below came a muffled metallic bang. Once. Twice. Then nothing.

Iris slipped the photograph into her jacket. "Owen's alive. We move."

They found the basement landing blocked by a new steel gate that did not match the old tile around it. A keypad glowed green. Marisol pressed her employee code. Red light. ACCESS DENIED.

"It worked this morning," she said.

Adrian tried the emergency release beneath its plastic cover. Iris photographed it before anyone touched anything else.

"Someone made a trap," she said.

A side door opened behind them. A young guard stepped out, keys shaking in his hand. "You need to leave. Mr. Holt said there's a gas leak."

"Then why are you sending us deeper into the building?" Adrian asked.

The guard looked down. He was barely twenty. His name tag read VICTOR LIN.

"He told us to do it," Victor whispered. "Chain the north stairs, switch the alarms to service, keep everybody upstairs. He said he'd cover us if the police came."

"Nobody can cover you if somebody gets hurt," Iris said. "Open this gate."

Victor struggled with the key ring. His radio crackled. Holt's voice cut through the stairwell: "Victor, report."

The young man froze. Adrian held out his hand. "Give me the radio."

"Victor," Holt repeated, sharper now. "If the girl in black is with you, you know what to do."

Adrian pressed the button. "She's with me. And so is a camera."

Static. Then a quiet click.

Victor found the right key. The gate swung open with a squeal that carried through the corridor. Beyond it stood shelves of banquet chairs and crates of winter decorations. The lights flickered again. This time a hot, dusty smell came through the vents.

Marisol touched a gray door at the end of the hall. A scrape answered from within.

"Owen?" she called.

May you like

Billionaire’s Wife Kicked a Waitress in Front of 300 Elites—One Slap Exp...

The billionaire’s wife tried to kick a waitress in the face in front of 300 wealthy guests. But seconds later, she whispered three...

My Mother Grabbed My Wife by the Hair Over Cold Soup—But What My Father...

My mother grabbed my wife by the hair over a bowl of cold soup. And the most shameful part? For one terrible second, I almost defe...

My Parents Kicked My 6-Year-Old Daughter and Me Out on Christmas—Then I...

My mother kicked my six-year-old daughter out of Christmas dinner, never realizing I was the only reason she still had a house to...

"Don't open the archive room!" came a weak voice. "They've put something against the other side."

Iris glanced at the top of the frame. A thin ribbon of smoke slipped out beneath the sprinkler pipe.