Chapter Eight
False Guises
1
"Okay, maybe we should stick to the kitchens if we really want a butterbeer," Kyla Potter conceded to her friends as they walked back toward the entrance to the school grounds. "I just figured a little adventure would be fun."
"That was more than a little adventure," Monty griped. "That was nearly getting us expelled."
Kyla scoffed. "Don't be so dramatic. Kids don't get expelled for sneaking to Hogsmeade once."
"What if they've done it five times this semester?" Tricia asked with a mischievous grin.
"What they don't know, won't hurt us," Kyla replied smartly. The two girls giggled.
"Hagrid!" Trevor whispered urgently as he suddenly spotted the huge old man lumbering out of the Hogwarts gates. "Hide!"
They all dove to the right, but to little avail. Hagrid spotted their figures and shouted, "Oi! Who's 'at?"
The kids bolted up a path, which lead to the train station. Hagrid didn't move very fast these days, so all they had to do was get out of sight before he could see where they had run. The trees skirting the meandering lane gave them just enough refuge to escape, but they didn't stop until they reached the railway platform.
The Hufflepuffs collapsed against the sturdy wood structure to rest, panting worse than ever. The adventure was loosing its charm for all of them.
"We just can't catch a break tonight," Tricia complained. "I hope Hagrid doesn't wait around the gates for long."
Trevor nodded in agreement and peered around the platform, finding the big red steam engine parked on the other side. "Hey," he said, walking to the stairs and climbing up to the station floor, "I didn't know the Hogwarts Express stayed here the whole time."
"Careful," Tricia warned. "There's probably some sort of guard around who wouldn't want you up there."
Kyla said something to her blond friend that Trevor didn't hear. He walked along the platform, running his eyes over the sleek train and marveling at how inanimate it seemed in the dark. He was used to seeing the engine belch steam like a restless dragon ready to transport and protect its young cargo.
He gradually made his way toward the end of the train, casually taking in his surroundings and the huge metal machine beside him. He looked through each space were the cars connected, seeing only trees and the occasional streetlamp on the other side. It wasn't until he had reached the second to last car that he saw a man standing in one of the spaces, staring at him.
Trevor gasped and leapt back, tripping in his haste and tumbling to the platform. He fumbled to reach his wand as he heard the man's shoes hit the wood as well and approach him. Finally grasping his wand he spun around and aimed it at the stranger.
There was a moment when they both froze, Trevor in fright, the other in caution. Then he saw the man's face more clearly.
"R-Roman?" he stammered, still shaken.
"It's good to see you staying on your toes, bambino." He responded, leaning down and hooking a hand around the boy's arm to help him up.
"You surprised me," Trevor stated, putting his wand away.
The Italian didn't apologize. "You shouldn't leave the school," he said flatly. "Hogsmeade isn't a safe place anymore. I've told you that."
"But why were you on the train? Is something wrong?"
"I'm looking after things," Roman said, offering no further explanation.
There was a silence that grew awkward for Trevor, but apparently not for Roman.
Finally the man said, "You should go back."
This being the second Blood Traitor to tell him that in the past hour, Trevor nodded and started to leave, but paused to turn back. It occurred to him what Tricia had said just minutes before. "Isn't there a guard around somewhere?"
Roman didn't answer immediately. A shadow seemed to pass over his face.
"No guards can keep me away, bambino," he said.
A chill settled over Trevor as they watched each other for another moment. It was the same sort of feeling he used to get in the presence of the Neos after he was tested on.
"Trevor?" said a girl's voice, distracting him.
The boy spun around to discover a light being shined in his eyes by his friend's wand.
"Sorry," said Tricia, lowering the light so he could see. "Are you ready to go?"
Trevor hesitated, glancing over his shoulder to look back at Roman. However, the man had vanished and only the stationary Express was behind him.
"Yeah," he answered at last. "The sooner we get back the better."
He walked back to the school with his housemates, feeling quite disconcerted and wondering how his family of vigilantes were fairing at the moment.
2
Remus Lupin returned to his office, Yates following on his heels – still convinced he had helped Logan Bireley escape.
"You were distracting me the entire time," she pointed out.
"Not on purpose," Remus retorted, sitting behind his desk as Yates leaned over it to stay in his face. When he pulled out his quill, she put both hands over the paper he was getting ready to write on.
"I know you're his friend, Remus. And I find it quite odd that you would be on the scene as soon as he was arrested," she persisted.
Remus stared her straight in the eye and calmly said, "Listen Rhonwen. Tonight you have yelled at my daughter, personally insulted me, and accused me of breaking the law. Now, if you'd like to be reasonable, I'm perfectly willing to talk with you – but if you don't get your hands off my desk, I will gladly remove you from my office."
Yates narrowed her wrinkled lids at him. "Reasonable? I think you know me well enough to know that I'm actually using quite a bit of restraint in this situation. Bireley's behavior alone incriminates him. He resisted arrest and he became a fugitive, knowing all the while that it would go on his record. A mark up like that would severely impede even the best behaved werewolf later – even if he's found innocent. Now, perhaps you should reconsider who's being unreasonable."
"You are, Rhonwen," said Harry, suddenly standing in the doorway with a silver haired vampire, "as always."
He stepped into the room, shoving the vampire inside before him. "I've got your man right here. His name is Nolan Quentin and Agape and I found him in Cardiff, thanks to a tip from Bireley himself."
"What?" squawked Yates.
Remus stood so abruptly his chair nearly toppled over. He stared intensely at Quentin.
"Hello, Remus," Nolan growled, grinning unpleasantly. "How's your wife?"
Lupin didn't take the bait.
"Did Bireley talk to you in person?" Yates demanded of Harry.
"No, I'm assuming he knows you sent the dogs after him, so he sent us the tip," Harry lied quickly. "He says you refused to talk to him, Rhonwen. Said that's why he resisted and broke out of your office. I guess he needed to talk to someone with a slight bit of rationality left in them."
"Are you implying-"
"That you're infirm? Of course not – I have too much respect for my elders to say such a thing. But anyhow, I think you'd probably like to talk to this fellow here, as he is quite important to your case." He flattened his palm against Nolan's back and practically shoved him into Yate's arms.
The old woman glowered at the vampire, who gave her an equally nasty look in return. She leaned around him to arch an eyebrow at the smart aleck Auror. "I want to put your report on this with mine tomorrow morning, Potter," she said sternly, though apparently appeased. "I'll take care of this one," she added and gestured to Nolan, "if Remus doesn't mind."
"I'll have plenty of time to talk to him later," Lupin told her, staring meaningfully at the vampire all the while.
After Nolan was escorted out, Harry made sure woman and vampire were all the way down the hall before closing the door and turning to Remus.
"Alright, two questions," he said, sitting on the edge of the chair in front of Remus's desk. The older man relaxed some and sat down as well. "Firstly: How do you know Quentin?"
Lupin sighed hugely and when he next spoke, it sounded as though he were summarizing a very long story. "He hurt my wife once, among other things. We've been trying to catch him since. He hates my family because we're connected to the man I sent you to speak to."
This reminded Harry of the way Pembroke had reacted to Remus's name. "Yeah – this wasn't one of my questions, but who the heck is that Cullen kid, and why does he hate you?"
Another sigh escaped Remus's lips. "Cullen is going to be my future son-in-law," he explained. "And since his grandfather hates him, he wants to hurt everything he loves – that includes my daughter and her family."
Harry's jaw dropped. "Little Lenore is getting married? And to some punk no less! Why didn't you tell me?"
"Can you blame me for hoping she wouldn't go through with it?" Remus said guiltily.
Harry pondered how he would feel if his own daughter were marrying the long-haired, bad-boy bartender. "No I guess I can't. But Pembroke was very helpful. We couldn't have found Quentin without him."
"What was your original second question?" Remus asked, changing the subject.
"Right," said Harry, remembering. "Well, it's really Logan's question. You see, Nolan tried to strangle him and he kind of wolfed out a little… He's fine now, but the claws and fags haven't gone back to normal. He wondered if you knew anything about this kind of thing."
Remus's eyes were wide with concern. "He must have been very angry to trigger a transformation. There are so few studies done for werewolves, it's hard to say whether or not he'll ever go back to normal. Greyback never did."
"If his life were threatened again, could he become fully transformed without a full moon," Harry inquired.
He was quite relieved when Remus shook his head. "No, I don't think that's possible. However, there's no way to tell how much he could change while human – if he doesn't get a hold of himself, even his personality could change."
"That's happened already," Harry pointed out. "I've never seen him act that way before. When I threatened to arrest him back in December, he did everything I asked."
Remus shook his head again. "The way he acted before was the change – sounds like he's reverting back to his old self now. Before he was bitten he ran an entire company; he was an assertive, confident leader. This is just his personality going back to normal."
Harry nodded, understanding. Then, as his questions had been dealt with, the most pressing matter on his mind returned. "Well, I told Agape to be careful around him, just the same. I sent them on ahead to scout out the place Quentin said Liberty was, but I need some help with this one. I'm going to have the Blood Traitors with me, but I feel like we'll need some extra hands."
"Where should we meet you?"
3
"When is she coming back?" Alton asked urgently. He had walked into the room less than a minute ago to find Ferris on the phone with Julissa and immediately barraged him with questions. "Is she coming back tomorrow? Sooner? Maybe an hour? I can wait an hour."
"She says 'no and shut up,'" Ferris barked. Then he turned his attention back to his girlfriend. "What's going on, Jules? What's catastrophic?"
"It's about Potter's case," she said quickly. "He sent me a note that Roman was supposed to give to me – but he didn't."
"Then how do you know about it?"
"Howard got hold of it and was taunting me with it," she answered, her voice taking on a bitter quality when she mentioned her husband, Howard Dante. "He said Roman is in charge of – of… Ugh! I can't say. But Roman has been lying to everyone. Ferris, people are in danger."
"Who?"
"Oi!" called Celeste, "Harry's here."
Potter came down the steps two at a time, carrying a brick. "We found out where Liberty is," he said, his face set. "Logan and Agape are checking the area out right now, but we need to get there fast." He held up the brick in plain sight, saying, "I brought a portkey to take us to Betws-y-Coed."
Alton suddenly turned all business. "Call everyone, Celeste," he said before whirling back to Ferris. "Tell her we found Libby. Can she help?"
Ferris nodded, "Jules?"
"I heard him – and I'm sorry but I'm stuck. Howard has me trapped here. I was lucky to find my phone after he hid it." She paused in thought before swiftly saying, "Ferris, you know this is a trap."
"Yes," he admitted.
A soft crackling started growing through the line as Jules said, "Tell Alton not… att…"
"Jules? Jules!"
She swore vehemently on the other end, but Ferris could tell the phone was breaking up – something that was never supposed to happen on Alton's magic hybrids. "Say it quick!"
"Go… n… aves! In waves!"
The connection broke.
"Well?" Alton demanded, looking ready for another fight.
"I think she said 'Go in waves,' " he responded, frowning deeply. "Tell Celeste not to call Roman. There's something I have to tell you."
4
Inside of the Blood Traitor's safe house, Augustus Schmitt walked from the tiny kitchen to the living room and sat on the couch with a drink in hand. He didn't often have alcohol, but after infringing on countless laws while breaking Logan out of the Ministry and the misunderstanding with the Order, he felt the time was appropriate. When he heard the bedroom door open he ignored it and kept his back to the hall while taking a good swig from his beer.
"Hey, Nervous-bloke, do you have another of those?"
Gus nearly choked; he hadn't expected her to approach so quietly.
"Sorry," she said, slightly amused. "I didn't realize you were so jumpy."
"That's a lie," he countered good-naturedly. "There's no way you couldn't have noticed. Not after all the flinching I did tonight."
"Okay, I did notice. You're in the wrong line of work."
"That's indeed true. And yes, I do have another," he said in response to her first question before pointing his wand toward the kitchen and levitating a second beer to her.
She wrapped her fingers around the offered bottle and joined him on the couch.
Only then did he realize she had conjured herself some clothes to replace the Azkaban robes. She now wore unfastened black robes over a blouse and a long, flowing skirt. She looked so immensely different and strangely casual; he might not have recognized her if it weren't for her mane of brunet waves and that terrible scar.
He realized he was staring and quickly took another sip of his drink.
She smiled a little. "So, Nervous-bloke, what is this shack? And why can't I leave?"
"It's a safe house, Miss Jett," Gus informed her. "You must either know the safe word or be a Blood Traitor to leave. We're not trying to keep you prisoner, but…"
"You can't risk me sleeping near headquarters, I get it," she finished for him.
"By the way, you can call me Gus, instead of Nervous-bloke," Gus replied, grinning slightly as he adjusted his glasses.
"Right. Gus." She said the name as if she were filing it away in her memory. She eyed his work robes and asked, "How long have you been with the Ministry?"
"Almost eleven years now," he sighed. "I was an assistant to Miguel De la Fuente, Head of Investigations, before he retired and Garrison Moore took his place."
"No kidding? Garry Moore?" she said, her eyebrows shooting up.
Gus was shocked she knew the name. "Yes. Do you know him?"
"Know him? I hate him. How do you work for that tosser?"
Gus uttered his nervous laugh. "Yes, he can be a bit coarse at times. But how do you know him?"
Jett took a draught of her beer before answering, "I – er… I dated an Auror once."
Gus's eyes widened behind his glasses. "Is that right? What was his name?"
"Fairbairn. His name was Fairbairn."
His jaw dropped and he stared at her. She merely took another drink, not looking at him.
"Y-you – you knew Charlton?"
She nodded solemnly. "Before I became… well, you know."
"I'm Charlie's cousin," he told her, leaning closer to look at her better. "When did you two date?"
The woman suddenly looked much less relaxed. After a moment of staring at him with blank indecision, she finally said, "Just before he disappeared."
Gus could tell she had given something away she hadn't meant to. He pondered what it was that would make her so tense about a bit of dating. Then it finally hit him.
"Merlin's beard," he breathed. "You're the Auror… H-he trained you!"
Her head jerked to the side to face him. Her golden eyes were defensive and challenging. "Boy, Charlie told you a lot didn't he?"
"We worked in neighboring departments," he informed her. "He told me all about you. He was very, very fond of you. Wait I remember! Mears! You're name is Mihayla Mears!"
Her jaw clenched and unclenched. "Yes," she snapped bitterly. "You have an absurdly good memory. Do you realize how long it's been since I've heard my real name? I've been underground for so long I could almost drop it completely."
"But, Mihayla," Gus continued, almost plaintively, "why did you go underground? Why are you helping the people that murdered him?"
"I have my reasons."
That wasn't good enough for Gus. Charlton Fairbairn had been a brilliant and brave individual, and his death had been a hard blow to Gus's family. He needed to know why someone so close to his cousin would betray him in such a way. "What reasons? Why Mihayla?"
"Stop calling me that," she snarled.
"Charlie loved you," he persisted. "He wanted to marry you! But you never came to his funeral, you just left. And now you work for them? Why?"
She stood and turned away from him, saying angrily, "That wasn't a funeral. You buried an empty casket."
"We could never find his body. They murdered him and threw him away. Why would you help them do these awful things? Were you with them then?"
"No!"
"Then why? What would possess you to do something so foolish?"
She whirled on him and her beautiful features were twisted in fury. "Because, I had to find him!" she shouted. "Unlike the rest of you, I did find his body and I saw what they did to him – I buried him myself so they couldn't hurt him anymore! That's why I joined!"
Two tears ran down her face and she stood there taking shuddering breaths, trying to collect herself. Gus couldn't believe what he was hearing from this woman. It was all so surreal.
"And that's why you really agreed to help us," he concluded, "to work against them?"
"No," she snapped, "to destroy them! To tear them apart until they can never come back." She sat back down on the couch, seemingly loosing steam. "I tracked down everyone who was in that room when Charlton died – that's how I found out about Roman…"
Gus started. "What about him?"
"I've known he was the Ministry's informant for a while," she admitted. "I saw him talking to you several times – or at least I suppose it was you. That's the only reason I didn't get him arrested like I did everyone else who watched Charlie die." She looked bitter, her face dried of tears.
This was more news to Gus's ears. Roman had never told him he had witnessed Charlton's death. However, he hid this fact from Mihayla, reasoning with himself that he had never told Roman his cousin's name, nor had they ever discussed the matter properly. Roman might have no clue who he saw being murdered.
"I can't believe I just said all of that to you," Jett said, slumping down and burying her face in her hands.
"I-I think your secrets are safe here," he told her with a hesitant smile. "I'm just glad we have a few more beers to drown them in."
The pretty woman scoffed derisively. "I've been drowning them for years, and it obviously hasn't helped."
At that moment Darth Vader's theme rang on Gus's mobile phone and he saw Alton's name appear on the tiny screen. "Hello," he said after flipping it open.
"We need you in the basement," Alton said, his voice grim and hurried. "Potter has a portkey to take us to Liberty. Get here as quick as you can."
"I'm o-on my way."
He bounded to the front door in five steps and wrenched the door open, looking at Mihayla over his shoulder one last time.
"Be careful," she said rather awkwardly. "This is just another part of their plan."
5
Betws-y-Coed, nestled in the Conwy valley in Wales, was a place of breathtaking landscapes and streams perfectly formed by nature. With her enhanced eyes, Agape could see its beauty even in the darkness. The closest stream curved around the base of the hill she and Logan sat on and a lovely looking village was not far from the opposite bank. However, the calming atmosphere was ruined by what was hidden beneath the rocky hill.
From what Nolan had smugly confessed, Morrigan – one of the seven leaders of the Optimates – was holding Liberty and possibly other missing children within a dungeon built underground. The vampire told them where to find the entrance, and Harry told them to simply go there and wait.
Currently crouching on the forest floor just beyond an unpaved path, they did just that. Logan dug at the earth with his new claws, too anxious to sit still. He bit at his bottom lip with his sharper teeth and Agape could tell he was holding his breath, a habit he was prone to.
He stared at the supposed entrance they were meant to watch, which consisted of a few crumbling remains of some ancient stone hut. Overrun by ivy and moss, the seemingly harmless place was little more than a handful of lilting walls. Even this dilapidated shack was rather picturesque sitting a few meters off the trail.
"It won't be much longer now," Agape assured Logan softly. "Harry and the others will be here soon."
Logan shook his head in frustration. "She's so close, Agape. If I could just know she was alright…"
"I know," she said. "You can, in just a few minutes. Then we can get her back."
His eyes narrowed ponderingly at the hut, then he peered all around them, as if checking for something. Making up his mind, he stood and moved quietly out of the cover of the surrounding trees.
Agape held back a cry as she lunged forward and caught hold of his wrist. "Wait!" she hissed desperately. "Not yet. Please, just wait like Harry told us."
"Let go of my arm," he growled.
The look on his face was so fierce she immediately obeyed and he stalked toward the hut before she could stop him.
"Logan, please," she implored, following. "I can't let you do this. It's not safe without back up."
"You said they'd be here in a few minutes," he reminded her.
"Exactly!"
"Then they'll be right on our trail."
He kept walking, but Agape stopped and swallowed hard before extending her wand in his direction.
"Logan," she said quietly, but clearly, "don't make me stop you."
The werewolf paused in mid stride and turned halfway back to look at her. He waited, wordlessly calling her bluff. Her brow nit in frustration and she lowered her wand, surrendering.
"Sorry, Agape," he said, beginning to cross the path, "I'm not here to help you pass your first Auror test."
Instantly offended, she went after him. She couldn't very well let him go inside by himself.
They approached the front of the stone hut and simultaneously paused, their ears and eyes straining to detect any hidden sentries who might try to impede them. But there was a deep stillness in the night that told them they were alone.
Agape could look through the small doorway of the shack and see trees where a long ago crumbled back wall should have stood, but there was no sign of a dungeon entrance. Logan cautiously crouched and stepped through the tiny doorway onto the threshold.
Then he was gone.
Agape stood frozen outside, staring wide-eyed at the spot Logan had just been, but all she saw was ivy and trees.
6
Logan found himself standing in a long, narrow space made up of uneven stones and earth. Around a distant bend, there must have been a torch providing him with some light. He moved toward the bend, stealthy and well aware that Agape was not with him. His steps had to be inaudible; surprise would be his only defense as long as he was alone.
The light was finally visible as the hall twisted to the right. Here the walls became more structured and the floor more level. There was another corner within his sight, this one going left. He crept to it and peered around carefully.
A single masked Optimus stood sentinel before a primitive looking slab door. He was facing the wall opposite him, and even from the profile view Logan could see he was quite bored. The man was smaller than the werewolf, and less than a meter away.
Wand in hand, Logan sprang around the corner and tackled the Optimus from the side. Pinning the startled man to the ground, he pressed his arm into his throat and the wand to his forehead.
The man started to shout, but Logan hissed, "Shut up! Drop your wand!"
His teeth were bared in fury, a string of saliva shining between his lips, and at the sight of his fangs the Optimus tensed and went silent. His wand clattered out of his fingers and across the floor just before he held up his hands in submission.
"Tell me where Liberty Kimber is!" Logan commanded.
"Are y-you a vampire?" the man stuttered, his terrified eyes focused on those thick fangs.
"I'm a werewolf, you little fool," Logan snapped, impatiently. "And if you don't tell me where Liberty is soon, I'm going to see how badly I can carve up your face." For good measure, he gave the man a hard shake.
"Wh-who's Liberty? Who are you?" the Optimus sputtered quickly.
"She's my little girl. I know she's here, now take me to her!" He shook him again, pressing his wand down harder.
"Ow!" the Optimus squeaked. "A-all of t-the prisoners are – they're all kept in there!" He frantically pointed toward the stone door held to the wall with massive metal tracks. "If s-she was taken, she's in there! Please! Don't bite me, please!"
Logan did not straighten from his crouch over the masked man, but he lifted his face enough to scowl at the door. "How does it open," he demanded.
"You just slide it open," the Optimus said simply. Logan gave him a livid glower and he added in a whimper: "L-like normal – I swear! Morrigan says if intruders want in, they'll j-just be added to her collection."
Logan pulled him halfway to his feet and snarled, "Take me to my daughter."
The Optimus made a short yelp of horror. "What? No! Please, don't make me go in there!"
A rush of alarm surged through Logan at these words. Was the other side of that door so terrible that even an Optimates would fear going inside? What did that mean for Liberty?
"Besides," the smaller man continued, clutching Logan's shirt pleadingly, "I d-d-don't even know which cell she's in. I'm no use to you, honestly! Morrigan would kill me-"
Logan stunned him in mid sentence and stood up to face the door. It didn't look rigged, or cursed, but none of them did. He decided it was a necessary risk and placed his hand on the rough surface of the stone. Nothing happened, so he hooked his fingers around the sides and heaved the door into motion in the metal tracks until all that was before him was a gaping black space. No hexes, or curses – nothing but another hallway.
He didn't hesitate to step through the doorway into the darkness beyond. He lit his wand to see by and, armed with light, saw that the hall was straight, long, and lined with doors. Many, many doors, each with a single window to peer through.
Logan knew immediately they were cells. A deep, saturating chill settled over him and he had to force himself to keep moving.
Reaching the first little window, he looked inside cell number one. It was empty, and so was number two across the hall. However, his breath caught when he looked into cell number three.
A small filthy form lay on the floor, curled in the corner. It was a young boy, shivering uncontrollably in little more than a pair of shorts. Logan tapped on the glass, earning no response. Even when he banged on the door several times, it seemed the child inside couldn't hear him.
The door wouldn't open and no spells seemed to help. He had to move on. A slightly older girl was hugging her knees in the middle of cell four, also dressed in rags and unable to hear him knocking. The boys in five and six were in similar states and none seemed to hear him in the hall as he moved from one door to the next.
It was nightmarish. They were all so thin and tortured, and Logan felt more helpless with each step. He was both horrified and incensed that anyone would do this to human beings. These were someone's children, someone's babies. He wanted to get them out so badly but couldn't, and he couldn't stop looking inside the tiny windows because somewhere among them was his daughter, his baby.
Some of the sights made his stomach churn and a lump rose to his throat. It was obvious several of them had been tested on. One girl, maybe twelve-years-old, was lying awkwardly with her hands and forearms raised off the floor, the flesh on them covered in black scaly protrusions. A boy about Trevor's age sat propped against the farthest wall of his cell with his head lolled to one side – his eyes were wide open and glazed with a foggy white color. Another child he couldn't distinguish as a boy or girl at first because their head had been shaved. Then he noticed the long red strands scattered all over the floor and realized it was a girl whose hair had fallen out.
Several cells were empty, and one contained only an enormous red stain that covered most of the floor.
Logan had to stop and clutch the wall as he gasped in huge gulps of air, trying to hold himself together. The one thought that kept him going was that the other Blood Traitors would soon be there to help. They might be able to save the kids from this monstrous place… he just hoped they could save them from everything that had been done to them.
That's when he realized he was at the end of the hall. Five slender cells made up this wall, each door facing the length of the hallway and all the other cells. Numbers thirty-six through forty. If Liberty was here, she was in on of these.
Logan took one more fortifying breath before rushing up to the window of thirty-six.
Empty.
He moved to thirty-seven – also uninhabited.
He held his breath and peered into thirty-eight.
Crouched in a corner was a girl, five-years-old with bushy black hair, wearing puppy-dog pajamas.
"Libby!" Logan cried urgently, banging on the door. "Libby!"
He seized the handle and pulled frantically. To his astonishment, the door opened instantly and he fell backwards. Recovering his feet, he slowly moved into number thirty-eight.
His little Liberty was sitting bolt upright, her eyes huge with fright from the abrupt commotion. When she saw him, she blinked a few times, as if making sure he was real.
"Daddy?" she said at last, her small voice filled with hope.
Then Logan scooped her into his arms and she clung to him with all her might. Tears streamed down both their faces as Logan muttered that everything would be alright now – that he was going to take her home where she would be safe.
She sobbed incoherently but he just held her tighter, so immensely thankful that she was alive and whole in his arms.
After a moment Liberty asked shakily, "Daddy, who are they?" She pointed over his shoulder.
His back facing the door to the cell, Logan turned around to look outside and his blood went cold.
The empty hallway was now full of bodies. Small bodies, all facing the last five cells in a deathlike silence, staring at him and Libby with many pairs of young haunted eyes.
The children had left their cells, and something was terribly wrong.