33
The thwack of the electronic bolts in her cell door jolted Elayne out of sleep.
Two in the morning by the clock.
That had never happened before.
She didn’t waste time getting dressed, she didn’t need to.
Since finding out about Holly Harper’s survival, she’d slept fully clothed—ready at a moment’s notice for the slightest chance.
Maybe this was it.
She dropped her feet to floor, ready to rush whoever came in the door.
Her sneakers splashed ankle deep in cool water.
An incredibly good sign. When things went wrong, opportunities arose.
By the time she reached the door, it was swinging open and the water had increased from ten to twenty centimeters.
The common room was in darkness. The only light was that red-lit “Exit” sign above the vault door—plenty for her night-adapted eyes
