Chapter 4 - Into The Rainswept Alley
The heavy boots in the hallway scuffed against the carpet and then faded toward the elevator banks. We waited in breathless silence for three full minutes, neither of us daring to move. When the distant chime of the elevator doors signaled the enforcers' departure down to the lobby, Costlow let out a slow, controlled breath and lowered the knife.
"They're sweeping floor by floor," he said, his voice hard as iron. "They'll be back up here within the hour once they realize the back stairwell sensor tripped."
"We have to go," I said, the realization hitting me like cold water. My brief sanctuary was gone. If they traced the security footage, I'd be tied to a fugitive before the sun set.
"Pack whatever you need. Quickly," Costlow commanded, tossing me a canvas duffel bag he'd found in the closet.
I didn't hesitate. I threw in a change of clothes, a handful of cash from my tip jar, and my mother's silver locket. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped the zipper twice, but Costlow was already at the door, peering through the peephole into the empty corridor. The city outside was beginning to darken as heavy gray storm clouds rolled in off the river, turning the afternoon light into a bruised twilight.
"Through the laundry chute maintenance hatch," he said, pointing down the narrow utility corridor behind the kitchen. "It drops straight down to the basement service alley. Nobody uses it on stormy days."
We slipped out into the corridor just as a door slammed down the hall. I led the way, my maid uniform replaced by a dark denim jacket I pulled from my locker. We dropped through the greasy metal hatch one by one, sliding down the canvas chute into a damp, concrete-lined basement reeking of bleach and old detergent.
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The heavy steel exit door pushed open with a rusted screech into the alleyway, where a cold, driving rain was already turning the gutter water into black glass. We ducked beneath the overhang of the brick wall as thunder rolled across the skyline. Costlow grabbed my arm gently, pulling me against the brickwork as a black sedan crawled past the mouth of the alley with its headlights off.
"Stay close to me," he said, his face inches from mine, the neon sign from the diner across the street casting a crimson glow over his bruised cheek. "Once we cross the highway, we catch the northbound bus out of the county."
