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hard voice. It’s so unlike her that I look up in surprise. “Get up now, Carrie. Get your mind in focus and let’s get Amy out .”
    “I can’t,” I whine. She doesn’t understand how tired I am. I’m exhausted. It’s like someone drained all the blood out of me.  
    “You will. Fall apart tomorrow. Not now.”
    “It’s not like I’m choosing to fall apart!” I whimper. She’s pissing me off.  
    “Yes, You are.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “ Good. Anger is better than despair. You’re angry because it’s true. You’re still breathing. You can still move freely. You have a choice, damn it, and you have a man who is out there relying on me to bring you back home safe. I refuse to go out into the world and tell Mark you gave up. You will not do t hat . I won’t let you.”
    “It’s hopeless.”
    She twists her forearm so the nasty scar is showing. She pulls back the wall of hair in front of her face and shows an array of stretched skin along her hair line.
    “This,” she says through clenched teeth, “is what I got in return for deciding to choose to fight. You know what happens when you don’t fight?”
    “What?”
    “You don’t get scars like this. And you don’t get scars like this because you’re dead . I’m not letting you die, Carrie, so as Chase would say—get your ass over here. Now.”
    “ Why are you being so mean?” I ask in a voice that sounds like a petulant five year old.  
    Allie just laughs through her nose. It’s not a funny sound.
    I stand as she reaches into the hole and slides Amy back. We secure the rope around Amy, looping it through the belt loops o f her pants.
    Allie looks at her phone. “Chase says someone needs to crawl behind her. Push her.”
    “I thought there wasn’t enough oxygen for two people in there at the same time .”
    “There might not be, but the alternative isn’t good, either.” She closes her eyes and moves her lips. Is she praying? Praying ?
    This is worse than I thought.
    “I’ll push her.”
    “ You’re exhausted, Carrie. I’m worried you won’t have the energy. Plus, I’m smaller.”  
    Some part of my tiny shred of pride looks her over. “We’re the same size!”
    “You have wider shoulders and hips. This isn’t about weight, Carrie,” she says flatly. “It’s about being practical. I can get her up the pipe faster and back to you with the rope.”
    “The rope?”
    “We have to get her up with the rope, then drag the rope back for you.”
    “I can crawl,” I say weakly. But she has a point.
    “Mmmmmm,” she says doubtfully. “You’ve been in here for most of a day.”
    “I have?”
    “Honey, it’s Sunday.”
    Sunday.
    “WHAT?”
    “Sunday, about 6 a.m. The coffee shop is about to open. We need to figure this out before the place is full of people. Drew’s worried about innocents becoming collateral damage,” she explains.  
    “Innocents?”
    “He’s worried that Frenchie and his crew will turn the coffee shop into a bloodbath.”
    “Oh,” I say in a small voice. “Is Frenchie capable of that?”
    She shrugs and tugs, hard, on the rope as Amy ducks down and groans. The sound of her moan is muffled by the pipe. “Frenchie and El Brujo are capable of anything. Whatever the worst you can imagine is, double it.”
    And with that, she tucks Amy’s legs up an d I watch Amy disappear. Allie crawls in right behind her, then hands me her phone.
    “Use this to text with Chase. I’ll be back,” she says, her voice fading fast. “ I promise.” She bends the arch of her fe e t so her toes dig into the muck-covered pipe and then she’s gone.
    They’re gone.
    I am alone.

Chapter Eleven
    Being stuck down here alone, but with a flashlight, water and a working phone is a completely different feeling. As long as Amy and Allie make it to the surface, being trapped in here will be worth it.  
    Mikey saved Amy’s life by luring me in here and closing that door. He doesn’t know that.
    But he may have also ended