A second later, he saw it. Thin tendrils of gray smoke curling from under the locked door, slow and snaking, like a warning.
Hank caught the scent. His nostrils flared. His head jerked toward the room. “s**t,” he whispered. “f**k!”
He turned, grabbed Mandy by the arm, and shoved her back hard. “Get away from the hallway….NOW!”
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
“MOVE!” Hank snarled, panic ripping through his chest. “Get back, damn it!”
He stormed down the corridor, his boots pounding the floor. The smoke was real. It wasn’t a trick. Something was burning.
His hand shook as he reached for the key clipped to his belt. It took him three tries to unclasp it. His fingers weren’t working. They trembled like leaves in a storm. “ELOISE!” he roared, his voice cracking. “Luna, can you hear me?!”
No one
