Life Blood---XXVII---Page No 100

"Just get ready." I quietly pulled back the door and peered out into the dark hallway. It was empty, abandoned, no snakes, with only a light breeze flowing through.

When I stepped out, the fresh air hit my face and I had a

moment of intensity that made me realize what I really wanted to do, first and foremost, was see Tz'ac Tzotz one last time. A last farewell to one of Sarah's children. Stupid, yes, a private folly of the heart, but I had to do it.

I was halfway down the hall, experiencing flashes of color before my eyes, when I heard a voice.

"They're all praying for you. It's almost time."

I turned back, startled, barely able to see. Finally I made out
Marcelina, in her white shift. We were standing a few feet from the
stairs, where I wanted to go, and I was tripping, my reality almost
gone. I think she knew that, because she reached out to help me
stand.

"Marcelina, where's Sarah?" I grasped her hand, which

helped me to keep my balance. "Is she still down there in that . . .
place?"

"She's been so looking forward to the ceremony. She wants them to bring her—"

"You don't know where she is?" I realized nothing was going to go the way I'd hoped it would.

"They all love her. They're taking good care of her."

"Well, I love her too. And I have to get her. Now." I was

whispering to her, trying to save my strength. "Marcelina, promise me you'll stop all this. It's so horrible. So sad."

"It's our life," she whispered back, then turned her face away.
        I didn't know what else to say, and I was terrified Alex
 Goddard might materialize, so without another word, I pulled
away and started up the steps.

When I reached the top of the stairs, the hallway was lighted by the string of bulbs along the floor, and I made my way as fast as I could to my room at the end. I pulled my passport out of my bag, along with a charge card, slipped them both into my pants pocket, and headed back down the hall.

When I got to the door of the room where Tz'ac Tzotz and his
mother were, I gave it a gentle push and peered in, but the glow
from the lamp above the bed showed it and the crib were both
empty. . .

No! They must have already taken the children. Next they'd

be coming for me. I realized I'd been a fool not to head straight for the lab. I should have just gone—

The room went completely dark, together with the hallway, a
pitch-black that felt like a liquid washing over me. The main
power, somewhere, had abruptly died, or been deliberately shut
off.

Then I heard a thunder of footsteps pounding up the steps, hard boots on the marble.

I made a dash, hoping to slip past them in the dark hall.

I'd reached the top of the stairs when I felt a hand brush

against my face, then a grip circle around my biceps. Somebody had been too quick.

I brought my elbow around hoping to catch him in the face,

bring him down, but instead it slammed against something metal, which clattered onto the floor.

"Chingado!" came a muffled voice.

I drew back and swung, and this time my arm scraped hard against the flesh of a face and the bastard staggered backward his grip loosening.

I twisted away and dropped to the floor to begin searching for what had fallen. Surely it was a pistol.

The marble was cold against my bare arms as I swept my
hands across the floor. Then I ran my fingers down the edge of
the stair.

And there it was, on the first step. My left hand closed around the cold barrel of an automatic. I shifted it to my right, grasping the plastic grip, not entirely sure what I should do with it. But at least I had a gun. I'd never actually held a real one before, but it was
heavy and I assumed it was ready to fire.

I was halfway down the first set of stairs, on my way to the
landing, when I felt an arm slip around my neck. I ducked and
twisted away, stumbling down the last three or four steps, and
landed on my feet, staggering back against the wall to regain my balance. All I knew was, the next steps loomed somewhere to my right. Just a few more feet . . .

But he was there again, moving between me and the final stairs. Get around him, I told myself, but at that moment he grabbed me at the waist.

Dancing in the dark, but the swirl had no music and no swing, just a quick, dizzying pirouette. I aimed the pistol as close as I could to his face and pulled the hard metal trigger.