If I Should Die Read Online Free PDF Page B

like saucers.
    â€œQuickly, over there!” Bran whispered, nodding across the room to where a child-size metal door sat at the bottom of a flight of ancient stone stairs. Georgia moved to his other side and we speed-dragged him to the door. He fished a key out of a niche in the wall and stuck it in the old lock.
    From above us came a voice I immediately recognized. The voice of a young girl. “Where is he?” Violette demanded. There was a bang as the back door slammed and footsteps pounded down the stairway.
    â€œFor the love of God, get that friggin’ door open!” Georgia hissed, as Bran wiggled the key in the lock. The door popped forward, and we stooped to scramble through the low frame into the dark, cavernous space beyond. I had enough time to see the reflection of a river running beside us before Bran swung the door closed and locked it. We were instantly enveloped by the odor of something sour and rank and the sound of rushing water.
    â€œTake the bar and block the door with it,” Bran told me, and shifted his full weight onto Georgia, who staggered a little before recovering her balance. There was enough light spilling through the cracks between the door and its frame for me to see a heavy iron bar above the lintel. I grabbed it and wedged it into brackets on either side of the door frame.
    â€œThis way!” Bran said, and Georgia teetered off with him into the dark. Cries of surprise and anger came from the other side of the door.
    And then a voice appeared in my head—the one I had been listening for since it disappeared over the river. Kate, run!
    Vincent was here! He had survived being burned—at least his spirit had. Relief hit me like a tsunami, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. “Vincent, it’s you!” I whispered.
    I’m bound to Violette, and she’s just a few feet away from you on the other side of this door. They don’t know which way Bran’s gone yet. You better get out of there before they figure it out and break the door down.
    Ignoring his warning, I asked, “Are you okay?” My mouth was so dry I could barely get the words out.
    The power transfer didn’t work, so Violette kept me with her. She needs Bran to figure out what she did wrong. Now, Kate . . . go.
    â€œFirst tell me what we can do to help you . . .”
    Now!
    â€œKate, come on!” Georgia urged from a few yards ahead. “What are you doing just standing there?” It took all of my strength to tear myself away from the door—away from the possibility of being near Vincent’s spirit—but once I had made up my mind, I sprinted to catch up with my sister and Bran.
    â€œI can’t see a thing,” I said after a few seconds.
    â€œMe either,” Georgia responded. “Here, take him.” I propped myself under Bran’s right shoulder, draping my arm securely around his waist and helping him move forward. He was so light that, if it weren’t for my own injury, I probably could have carried him.
    From behind us, a strong light switched on, illuminating the space around us. I glanced back at the glowing rectangle Georgia held aloft. “iPhone flashlight app,” she said proudly.
    â€œQuick,” Bran urged, and directed us around a corner and down another passageway.
    As we struggled forward in the glow of the cell phone flashlight, I took in our surroundings. We were heading down a large tunnel with vaulted ceilings lined with brick. A river ran down the middle, and on either side was a sidewalk wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side. Though I’d never been here before, I knew exactly where we were: the Paris sewers. A network of over a thousand miles of tunnels carrying rainwater, drain water, and . . . yes . . . the sewage of Paris.
    â€œIf I see floating poo, I’m gouging my eyes out with this box cutter,” Georgia called from behind me.
    I ignored her, and