The dim lights overhead cast long shadows down the hallway.
Julian walked beside Rex. His eyes darted across the concrete floor, like he was searching for something he'd dropped.
They passed door after door. The silence was heavy. Rex slowed his pace and gestured toward a doorway on the left.
"Washroom. Don't take all night."
"I'll try," Julian said. He headed inside.
He went inside the furthest stall and sat down. His head lifted up. He pressed his palms against his face. His eyes darted left, then down, then back again.
Time passed.
Julian flushed and walked out to the sinks. He turned on the tap and washed his hands, watching the water swirl down the drain.
He looked at the mirror in front of him. A slow breath escaped his mouth.
He glanced toward the door to leave, then stopped. He saw something behind the door, wedged next to a plastic trash can. He walked closer to see what it was.
"Hey, Rex!" Julian called out.
Rex glanced at the washroom door. "What? Your shit not want to come out?"
"I found something."
"What?" Rex put his phone away and approached the door.
Julian stepped out into the hallway. He held a blade in his hands. Rex leaned in to check it out.
It looked like a dagger, but it was in bad shape. The edges were dented and thick with orange rust.
Rex took it from Julian's hands. He shook it once. The handle was loose, vibrating with a dull rattle.
"If you swung this thing at someone, the blade would probably fly off and hit the wall."
"It was inside the bin."
Rex tossed the blade back. Julian caught it by the hilt.
"That's where it belongs," Rex said. "This piece of junk ain't worth shit."
"You sure? I think it's worth something."
Rex turned and kept walking down the corridor. "Why do you think it was with the trash?"
"I don't know."
"Because it's trash. Now move it. You already took too long in there."
"Yeah," Julian gripped the handle and hurried after him.
As they walked, Julian saw three guys come out of a room further down the hall. They were carrying a heavy wooden crate between them. They glanced back at Julian and Rex before disappearing around a corner.
Rex stopped in front of a wooden door. The room number read 11 B. He pulled a key from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole.
"I was wondering something," Julian said casually, as he looked at the blade. "Do you know their names?"
"Nah. They didn't spill anything when we brought them in." Rex twisted the key. "Why you asking?"
"Because I do," Julian said quietly.
Rex froze. He lifted his hand from the doorknob and turned around slowly. "What did you just say?"
"I know who they are," Julian repeated.
"You son of a—"
Julian didn't let him finish. He shoved Rex with his left hand, using all his weight. Rex slammed hard against the door.
Before Rex could recover, Julian raised the dagger and thrust it upward.
The metal tore into the side of Rex's neck.
Rex's hands flew up to grab Julian's wrists, his fingers digging in with a final, desperate strength, then they went limp and dropped to his sides.
Julian let go of the handle and watched it vibrate. The blade had entered just below the jawline, tearing through the soft tissue of the throat before anchoring itself deep into the heavy wooden paneling of the door.
The dark red blood surged out. It instantly soaked into the collar of Rex's jacket, turning the fabric a deep, wet black.
Rex's hands twitched. His fingers clawed at the air, trying to hold onto something in the empty space. A thin trail of red leaked from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his chin. Then his eyes began to close.
Rex hung there, pinned like a bug to a board. His legs gave way, but he didn't fall to the floor. The dagger took the full weight of his body.
The blood hit the concrete floor with a heavy, wet pattering sound—tap, tap, tap.
Julian leaned in closer, his face inches away from Rex's fading heat. "And you said it belongs in the trash."
He didn't wait for a response that would never come. His hands slid into Rex's pocket, fingers slick with the cooling overflow from the neck wound. He fished out the phone.
Julian glanced left, down the long hallway where the men with the crate had vanished. Then he reached for the knob. He pushed the door gently. It resisted for a heartbeat, then swung inward under the dead weight of Rex's corpse.
"Class has ended, folks."
Julian stepped inside. The room was too dark to see anything clearly.
He thumbed the flashlight on the phone. The beam cut through the gloom, illuminating rows of wooden benches lined up.
Simon was sitting on the first bench. His hands and legs were bound tight with thick nylon cord. A rough cloth was wrapped around his face.
Julian approached him quickly. He set to work on the knots, his fingers moving with a frantic efficiency.
"Where is Sara?"
Simon pulled the cloth away as soon as it loosened.
"Should be here."
Julian turned, sweeping the flash toward the back of the room. The light skipped over dust motes and empty desks until it hit the last row.
He found her in the far corner seat, half-slumped against the wall. He climbed over the benches, his boots clattering against the wood until he reached her.
"Classes have already ended, girl."
Sara's head lifted slowly. Her eyes were unfocused, blinking against the harsh LED glare. No reply came out.
"Yeah, first that." Julian moved behind her and began sawing at the ropes.
Sara shoved the cloth from her head as soon as her arms were free. She reached behind her neck, fumbling with the thick rope that had been gagging her.
"Let me." Julian stepped in and untied the final knot.
Sara let out a sharp breath. She massaged her jaw, her skin marked with deep red welts. "What were you doing?"
"I... uh. I didn't know where they had taken you two. So I just waited." Julian watched her untie the ropes from her legs.
"And I thought it would be good to not bother anyone outside."
Sara stood up, her joints popping as she stretched her arms. "At least you came. I definitely thought I was going to get sold."
"I would have bought you."
"Nah," she whispered, a ghost of a smirk on her lips. "You wouldn't."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"I do."
They reached the door. Simon was already standing there, his frame silhouetted against the dim hallway light as he watched the corridor. He stepped out, and that was when Sara saw what was hanging on the wood.
She stopped. The blood had traveled halfway down the door. "You did this?"
"He was annoying," Julian replied softly. "But who cares. Just get out of here first."
"We still have things left to do," Simon said calmly.
Julian frowned. "What things?"
"George. We need him to bring him back with us."
"What? Are you serious?"
"You still remember the alley incident, right?" Simon turned his head to the corpse.
"Baldy. Warehouse. Yeah. I remember."
"George was the one on the phone call."
"Shit. But how'd you plan on abducting him? There are too many people out there."
Simon looked directly at Julian. "You can."
Sara watched Julian too. She didn't know what Julian had told them. She also wasn't interested in knowing, but she knew he was close with George. Close enough to get through a door without a gun being raised.
"I don't want to go back," Julian muttered, his eyes darting to the dead man on the door. "They will quickly suspect me if I go back alone."
Simon reached out and gripped the hilt of the dagger. He wrenched it free. Without the blade holding him up, Rex's body slammed onto the floor like a sack of wet sand. A fresh flood of blood began to pulse out, spreading across the floor.
"We will be waiting here," Simon said, wiping the blade on his trouser leg.
Sara stepped closer to Julian. She brushed her palm behind his back. "You know you can do this." She gave him a gentle, firm push toward the hallway. "Now go."
Julian staggered a few steps forward into the corridor. He turned back once, looking at the two of them standing over the corpse.
"Just... don't do anything stupid."
He turned and began the long walk toward the gymnasium. His figure grew smaller under the flickering lights until he slowly disappeared into the dark of the hallway.