Cleo's hands flew fast across the keyboard. She had gotten no other calls from Emma, and didn't expect to, so she had gone back to trying to find out as much about this fortress and the people holding Lewis against his will.
Today was a great deal less cold, and for that she was grateful. She just needed to wear a jacket, instead of being huddled up in her blanket like the day before.
I'm still coming up with nothing, she thought. How discouraging. She pushed the keyboard away from her and stood up.
She gathered her hair into a bun, grabbed her bag and emerged into the daylight.
She pulled at her wrinkled clothes and started off for Sovereign Street. She was at the ominous building in no time, having completely memorised the route without really meaning to.
She snuck in through a broken window, her light blue top snagging on a shard of broken glass. She winced as the sharp fragment spilt through her t-shirt and scratched against her skin. She dropped to the floor.
She pushed herself against the wall and examined her injury. A deep red stain was spreading across her top, and she gasped against the sudden pain. But she couldn't stop now. She forced herself up and kept going.
Lately she had been spying on the 'guards' scattered throughout the abandoned building, hoping to overhear something about Lewis's whereabouts.
She crept around the wall, hearing voices.
"I can't believe we had to move that idiot boy," One said. "I mean, he hasn't been a help so far. And she's only a girl, it's not like she can really do anything! I don't know why we didn't just kill him."
Cleo bit back tears at this comment.
"Don't be so irritable. We only moved him three floors down. No biggie."
Cleo's eyes widened. Three floors down? Is that where he is?
She didn't wait to hear any more. She thundered down the steps and stopped at the floor Lewis used to be on. Three floors down. That's easy enough.
She raced down three more flights of stairs and stopped at the right floor. A guard walked past, so she quickly scrambled into a hiding place. She peeked around the wall.
The hallway was deserted, except for one room in the middle. In front of it were dozens of guards. This has to be it, she thought. What else would be so heavily guarded?
She snuck out further an listened intently. She didn't want to run in there without knowing if it really was Lewis that was in that room.
"Look at this," A guard said, turning around a little leather notebook in his hands, "Property of Lewis McCartney. That's the kid in there, isn't it?"
Another nodded distractedly. "Yup. That's him alright."
Cleo felt lightheaded. It's him! She thought. It's him it's him it's him it's him it's him!
Suddenly, the guards started to disperse. She had no idea why – but this was her chance. As soon as all of them were gone, she raced to the door, shaking with anticipation.
She heard footsteps behind her. She jumped away from the handle as though it were on fire and ran back to the safety of the shadows.
A woman swept into view, opening and closing the door behind her so quickly Cleo couldn't possibly get a good look at her.
She almost screamed in frustration. So close! She thought. I was so close and then someone just had to come and wreck all that for me!
She grumbled unintelligibly and sat herself against the wall. She was going to wait for that woman to come out, no matter how long it took.
Three hours later...
Cleo had been waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
The woman still hadn't come out. She was now fiddling with her phone – which she had turned on silent after yesterday's escapade – and swallowing little multi-coloured ghosts with something that looked like a lemon cheesecake with a slice missing.
She waited fifteen minutes longer, and finally the woman came out, disappearing as quickly as she had walked in.
Cleo waited for a while more, just to make sure that no one else was coming. She scrambled up and raced for the door. With shaking hands, she turned the handle.
She slipped inside.
There was a figure sitting in a chair in the middle of the room.
Cleo raced over to him. She gasped as she took in his face – a split lip, a cut cheek, a black eye, and a small gash across his forehead.
"Lewis!" She screamed, shaking him.
He looked up, his eyes flashing dully. "Cl... Cleo? Is that you?" He asked slowly.
"Lewis, it's me," She whispered.
"I'm delusional." He groaned, banging his head against the back of the chair.
"No, you're not," She said, smiling and kissing his sweet, beautiful forehead, "I'm here. Don't worry."
She scrabbled at the restraints around his legs and hands, having no idea how they were going to get past the guards once she had freed him.
"Cleo," He said, his voice raspy and hard.
"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at him.
"Go. Go now." He said.
"Never," She replied, "I'm not leaving you."
She frowned and stood up, trying to see if there was any other way to loosen his restraints.
"Cleo!"
She turned around. "I've told you. I am not leaving you!"
"No, it's not that," He said, looking up at her intently, "You're bleeding."
Cleo looked down and realised that the huge red stain had grown. "Right," She muttered distractedly. "That."
She managed to loosen the binds on his hands. "There," She said happily. "One more left."
"Cleo," He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to his level. "You're bleeding too much. Go get help."
"No, I'm fine." She insisted, although she was beginning to feel a little lightheaded.
"Cleo, listen to me," He said, looking down at her red stained t-shirt, "At least let me help."
She shook her head firmly, resolve burning in her eyes.
He poked lightly at the large gash in her stomach. She gasped, her eyes pricking with tears.
"That proves my point. Let me help you."
Tears of pain dribbled down her face as she leaned on Lewis for support. "I'm fine," She said, her voice strangled and broken.
He petted her hair. "No you're not. Stubbornness only goes so far, Cleo,"
She wiped at her face and stood. "No. I'm getting you out of here. We can worry about me later."
She scratched and fiddled with the restraints around his legs, but they just wouldn't come loose.
She cried in frustration and buried her head in her arms. The sound of a door opening made her look up.
A guard walked in, and she scrambled for a patch of shade at the edge of the room.
"I heard voices. Who are you talking to?" He demanded, peering down at Lewis with disgust. "You got out of your restraints. You're covered with blood. How did you manage that?"
Cleo wanted to give this man an award for stating the obvious. He seemed to be rather spectacular at it.
Cleo watched helplessly as the man re-bound Lewis's wrists, and this time put a rag over his mouth. He knelt in front of him.
"This is your last chance. What do you know about the mermaids?" He asked.
Lewis seemed to be saying something. The man took away the cloth covering his mouth.
"Go to hell!" Lewis screamed and spat in the man's face.
Cleo watched in horror, tears dribbling down her cheeks, as the man covered Lewis's mouth once more and struck him hard across the face. His cheeks dribbled with blood.
The man walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Cleo ran back over to Lewis, stroking his bleeding face. "Lewis," She gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry. For everything. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, I'm sorry I let them take you at all!" She sobbed.
He pressed his forehead against hers, not being able to speak. It must have hurt a lot due to the large gash on his forehead, but he stayed there, comforting her, regardless of the pain.
"I love you so much," She whispered. "I will come back for you."
She cried and kissed his forehead before heading for the door. She couldn't afford to stay in there – if there was one guard, there would be others. "I promise." She said and closed the door shut behind her.
She grabbed her bag, tears dribbling down her cheeks, and climbed back through the broken window, making sure to be much more careful this time.
I will fulfil my promise, she swore to herself. I will come back for him.