Which was a very bad thing, because A) He'd only looked a little surprised to see me there—which means I'm predictable; and trust me, for people in the clandestine services, predictability is a very bad thing. And B) I'm pretty sure the bra was only hanging on by a thread—literally! I think it was hooked on the waistband of my pantyhose or something, because I could feel it swinging around my thighs. (Note to self: find out why the Gallagher Academy can manufacture raincoats that double as parachutes, but not a strapless bra that can make it through one covert evening.)
"What are you doing here?" I breathed.
"Looking for you."
"Why?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure he didn't know that I'd actually come there so I could take off my bra and stash it in the secret passageway behind the Gallagher family tapestry. Still, I felt like double-checking.
"Because this is where you came the other day."
"Oh."
"I thought this might be where you come…when you're upset." He stepped closer and put his hands in his pockets, which is Body Language 101 for putting someone at ease, but everything about Zach Goode made me uneasy.
He was handsome. He was strong. And most of all, I knew that even though Josh might have been the boy who "saw" me, Zach knew where my favorite passageways were; Zach knew I was a pavement artist; Zach knew where I sat in class and what I ate in the Grand Hall and who my best friends in the world were. Zach "knew" me—or at least the version of me that Josh would never see.
And that was maybe the scariest thing of all. So scary that I temporarily forgot I wasn't just being cool standing there with my hand on my hip—that my hand actually served a very different purpose—so when Zach cocked his head and asked, "So what is it, Gallagher Girl?" I reached up to touch the cold stone wall.
And my bra landed on my feet.
But I didn't have time to panic or worry about how I was going to have to stand in that very spot for the rest of the semester (or at least until Zach walked away), because a siren pierced the air.
A mechanical voice and the words "CODE BLACK CODE BLACK CODE BLACK" sounded.
And then the lights went out.
Chapter Seventeen
The sirens blared, piercing our ears, and the words "CODE BLACK CODE BLACK CODE BLACK" echoed, running together as they reverberated down the long stone hall.
Beside me, the tapestry that bore the Gallagher family tree was moving, sliding slowly between a gap in the stones that then sealed itself as if it had never been there at all.
The only light in the corridor was the moonlight that shone through stained glass windows, but even that was disappearing as thick steel doors slid over the glass.
Although normal protocol says that students are supposed to report to their common rooms in the event of a Code Black, nothing about that night seemed normal at all, so I grabbed Zach's hand and started running toward the Grand Hall as quickly as my high heels would allow.
When we passed the recycling bins at the end of the hall, a container marked BURN—CLASSIFIED MATERIALS ONLY burst into flames.
The vending machines that double as secret entrances to the science labs sank into the floor and were covered with stones identical to the ones that lined the corridor.
And then, one by one, a series of lanterns that hung almost unnoticed along the corridor sprang to life, their pale yellow glow filling the darkness.
"I thought those were for decoration," Zach yelled through the pulsing sirens.
"If everything goes right, they are."
"So this means …"
Formally attired men and women from the maintenance and security departments ran past us, but didn't stop.
"Something is seriously not right."
Bookcases slid into walls, doors swung closed, locks slid into place, and I struggled to yell over the sirens.
"It's security protocol," I said. "There must have been a breach. The whole system goes into lockdown—nothing gets in."
Then, as if to prove my point, steel doors fell from the crown molding, sealing the hallway behind us. "And nothing gets out."
As we ran past the library, I noticed motion through the glass panes and saw that the bookshelves, the couches—the entire room—was spinning, sinking, spiraling into the floor, disappearing before my very eyes.
"Does this happen a lot?" he asked, and the answer was maybe the most terrifying thing of all.
"No."
When we reached the foyer I saw that the front doors had been covered with the kind of metal used on space shuttles and nuclear missile silos. Emergency lights burned in the rafters, casting an eerie red glow over the place I knew well but barely recognized.
I rushed toward the doors of the Grand Hall, but then the sirens stopped. Silence filled my school like a tomb.
The doors to the Grand Hall suddenly swept open, and a hundred pairs of eyes and at least a dozen very powerful flashlights pointed right at me. I squinted and shielded my face against the glare. And that's when I realized that Zach was no longer holding my hand. I glanced behind me, but he was gone.
"Ms. Morgan," Buckingham exclaimed when she saw me standing alone in the dark, deserted foyer. "Exactly where have you been? There is an exam taking place, Ms. Morgan—not to mention a Level Four security infraction. Now, why weren't you in the Grand Hall with your classmates?"
But before I could answer, I heard a voice call, "Cameron!" I looked to the balcony overhead to see my mother staring down. "Come up here. Now!"
The Gallagher Academy is protected by lots of things: Our walls. Our legends. And some very impressive electrical gadgets that block any and all electronic frequencies from penetrating our air space. But that night, something—or someone—had tried to get in. Or tried to get out. So it wasn't any wonder my legs felt a little unsteady as I started up the stairs.