Chapter 11

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|| Amelia ||

Shaking, I run. My feet pound the hallway of the jail in an irregular rhythm, and pain jostles up my side every time my left foot makes contact with the floor.

There's a sound behind me; Joshua must be following.

I'm still amazed at how I controlled myself a few moments ago. The look on his face, the curl in his voice as he spoke to me, they were all enough to send a wild heat up my spine.

It's a wonder I didn't launch myself at him and kill him right there, on his two little measly feet.

"This way!" I find myself yelling, and I turn right towards the second set of female cells. In my head, I pray that Angie is in one of these.

Please, please, please, I beg to no one in particular.

Joshua overtakes me. He sprints ahead, using his arms, which swing by his side, propelling him forward. I feel a sense of annoyance as we race down the hallway. His head turns back.

"You check the left cells, I'll check the right."

I set my jaw, wanting to refuse, to not listen to him. But he has a point. There's more chance of finding her quicker if we split up the search.

I slow down and scan the cells to the left of me whilst Josh continues up ahead, checking the right. There are more footsteps and my sister comes into view at the other end of the corridor. Her face is red and for an instant I forget about her asthma.

"Meelie," she wheezes, and she comes crashing into me so hard I go tumbling back. It's all I can do to cradle her face, listening to her rapid breaths that are loud and heavy.

"Come on," I say, trying to ignore the redness of her cheeks. "Don't have an attack on me now."

She continues to wheeze, but I don't really expect a reply. She's a silent girl, forever folding in on herself.

I pull on her arm and beginning checking the cells. Hands reach out for me, dirty ones, no better than my own. I meet sad eyes, faces of terror, despair, jealousy. And yet not one of them is Angie.

I get to the end and turn right again, where there is the last row of cells. Joshua is half-way down this one and he stands looking into a cell.

I call after him, but he doesn't reply. It's only when I reach him that I finally register who's inside the barred gate.

"Amelia," comes a small timid voice and those dark, dark eyes meet mine.

I look her over. Her face is grimy, glistened with sweat. She looks awful; bags under her eyes, fingernails filthy from scratching at the bars for too long.

But then again, I remind myself that she can't look half as bad as me.

I'm already tired from the run, but I fight to stay upright.

"How do we get her out?" I ask Joshua. "The guard doesn't know we want her."

"They don't need to know," he replies, voice more annoying than I remember. "We'll have to break her out."

And at his words, Maisie slumps to the ground.

The panic flares up in me as I dive down to her level. Her eyes are closed, body limp, face a bright, bright red.

"She fainted from exhaustion," says Josh behind me.

Before I can tell him to shut up, Angie's voice reaches my ears. "You don't have an inhaler, do you?"

I glance at her. She looks at me expectantly from her cell. "No," I say, a little defeated. "Mum had it in her bag."

My throat catches on the word had. Thing is, I don't know if my parents are dead or not. The only thing I do know is that I haven't seen them for months.

"We have to get you out of here," I tell Angie. "In fact, we've all got to get out of here."

And yet as I say the words, I know that none of us are strong enough to bust open a metal cell door.

"What about we call the guard?" I ask. "Surely he could let one more person free."

"I doubt it," Josh replies. "And anyway, he's long gone now."

There's a heartbeat of silence before Angie pipes up.

"The fire alarm," she says. And then again, with a smile, "The fire alarm."

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