Liam limped onward determinedly, teeth gritted, one hand clamped around his wounded shoulder, but her brother was lagging behind. A tiny, hateful part of Rebeka wanted to leave him. She’d done nothing but save him for the past several months, and he’d repaid her by dragging her into this. Instead, she slipped her hand into his and tried not to mind the sticky, drying Nazi blood on his fingers.

“Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s live to fight another day.”

Daniel nodded, but his jaw was tight. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

As they passed beneath the corridor lights—specifically, as Liam passed beneath them—each bulb flickered and went dead. She glanced questioningly at Liam, but he kept hurrying them along. Darkness pursued them down the corridor, and Rebeka envisioned grasping claws, coiling vines. Then the first bulb shattered—then the next, and the next after that. She jumped, her nerves scraped raw.

“What the hell?” Daniel muttered. But there was no time to stop and consider it. If they turned left at the next corridor, they should nearly be to the garage—

A fierce wind tore down the corridor then, rushing down the path they’d taken and whipping past them with an inhuman screech. “In here!” Liam shouted, and threw himself into the deep recess of a doorway. Rebeka and Daniel dove in beside him.

The wind shivered, lowed, then howled once more. In the center of the corridor, a lightbulb shattered, and the burst socket crackled with a surge of electricity. Ice flooded her veins as her vision split in two: the image of the corridor before her, and then the sight of herself, running, fleeing.

That was certainly a new development—but not one she had time to consider. She’d never been able to watch herself this way, or watch as if from two eyes—but whatever it meant, it couldn’t matter right now.

“We have to go this way!” she shrieked over the clatter, and yanked them down a side hall. The second vision dissipated as if it had lost its quarry—she didn’t dare look behind her. This building hunched all around them, unknowable, a labyrinth of horrors yet to unfold.

The wind flickered, a sad little whimper like a wounded animal, then stopped.

Silence.

“Well?” Rebeka asked, after a heavy moment. No hum of electricity, no distant shouts or footfalls. The nothingness was overwhelming. Suffocating. It constricted her with fear, wringing her nerves dry.

“Well, what?” Liam asked through gritted teeth. He still clutched at his wounded shoulder, and sweat glistened on his flushed face.

“Is it safe now?” She leaned out and risked a glance down the hallway. The twilight glow of the courtyard just barely penetrated the thick shadows that had engulfed the hall. Her eyes were starting to adjust, but only dull forms gave any hint of the corridor ahead.