54
I raced down the corridor, looking for exits, but didn’t see any as it turned right, then left and came to a dead end. “What the hell?”
Had I missed something? I felt along the walls, looking for a hidden panel or release. Nothing. “Where the hell’d you go?”
The pain in my left arm grew more intense. I jammed the pistol I stole from Richardson in my waistband and looked at my arm. The flesh was torn. Blood dripped down the length of my arm onto the floor. But the wound appeared superficial. I looked around for something to put over the wound, but there was nothing.
My right hand pressed on the wound as my gaze drifted to a spattering of blood on the floor. I noticed an odd seam near my foot. A trapdoor. “Son of a bitch.”
I found a hinged handle and pulled it up. A metal ladder disa
