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It’s sniffing around the stained bag of coffee like a hungry child hovering around a birthday cake.
    Thump thump thump.
    This time it’s a solid sound, like someone is banging on metal with the heel of their hand. The rat didn’t do that .  
    I look around the room, but don’t see where the sound could be coming from.
    Thump thump thump.
    It’s steady enough and coming from the wall.
    And then I hear it. The voice is so faint, but it’s clear:
    “Carrie.”
    It’s a woman’s voice, and it’s coming from behind the shelving.
    I pull one of the heavy boxes filled with papers off the shelf. Nothing behind it. With as much effort as I can, I shove box after box off the shelf, not caring about the mess. Papers fly everywhere. One box tips over in an avalanche of paper. After each box, I pick up the candle to look at the shelf. Time after time there’s nothing there.
    And then, suddenly, there’s a hole. In the wall. It’s square, and no more than three feet wide, if that.
    Allie’s face is staring at me, bright, round brown eyes like headlights in a dirty face . Her body looks like she rolled in sewage on one of those reality television shows where you jump through an obstacle course.  
    E x c ept this is anything but entertaining.
    “ Help me,” she says. She looks like toothpaste coming out of a brown tube. Her shoulders are squished and she’s having a hard time breathing. “The opening narrows here,” she gasps.  
    “Where do I grab you?” I ask. She’s squeezed in there so tight.
    “Armpits,” she blurts out. I do as she asks and reach under, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ribs, armpits and breasts. My singular goal is to get her out of there, so I grab as hard as I can and pull.
    She comes flying out and topples into me. We crash to the ground and the candle goes flying .
    Into my hair.
    For a brief moment the entire room is illuminated by a brilliance that is captivating. And then the burning begins. White hot light and flame surrounds my neck. I can’t breathe. I’m inhaling heat.  
    “CARRIE!” Allie screams. She reaches into the hole and pulls out a tiny backpack. There’s a water bottle.
    “Don’t waste the water,” I say, and then I crumple to the ground, my last vision of my eyelashes feeling like they’re hot needles.

Chapter Nine
    I wake up to wetness everywhere and the glow of a cell phone screen.
    “No signal. No signal,” Allie is muttering to herself as she types on the phone. “Please let the text go through.”
    “Allie? What are you doing here?” I moan . I’m covered in a wet tablecloth. I look around the room. There’s a stand-up flashlight and Allie’s phone casts the blue glow.
    I look at Amy. She’s breathing steadily, slumped at a weird angle.
    “ C’mon, Chase. C’mon.” She’s muttering under her breath.  
    Bzzzz.
    “Yes!” she gasps. Then she looks at me. “Oh, God, Carrie. Chase knows I found you now. We’re getting you—” she looks at Amy “—and her out of here.”
    My head feels like someone put it in a spin-dry machine. “What are you doing here?”
    She reaches up and touches my head. If feels like one big rug burn. I lift my hand to the top of my head.
    It’s like I have a big B rillo pad up there.
    “What happened to my hair? Why were you in that hole in the wall? What do you mean, Chase knows I’m here ? Allie, what is happening!” My voice goes high with hysteria. “ Where’s Mark?”  
    “Calm down,” she replies in a soothing voice. As she tucks her phone in her back pocket, I see the outline of a gun along her hip. It’s tiny, no bigger than her hand.
    A thrill slides through my body.
    We have an actual chance of getting out of here alive.
    I slump against the wall. She takes the wet tablecloth and pats at my head.
    “How did you know where I was?” I ask, incredulous.
    “Wait.” Her voice is clipped as she reaches into her back pocket and types furiously. Then she returns her attention to me.