The Last Girl by Joe Hart Page B

ceilings again. He taps the calendar as he passes. “Tick, tick, tick, tick,” he says in a low voice.
    “Guards, are you satisfied with your inspection?” Simon says, finally stepping into the room.
    Dellert focuses on him, cocking his head.
    “Cleric, tell me, are you ushering us away from our investigation for a reason?”
    “I’m simply saying that it’s late and we’re all tired. Besides, I already told you I’ve always made my own inspections on time and never found a thing. If your suspicions have been allayed, I would suggest letting Zoey return to bed, especially since she’s not feeling well.” He keeps his eyes locked on Dellert as he says this and a surge of affection rises within her.
    “I would suggest you keep track of your tongue, or else I’ll report your interference to Assistant Carter,” Dellert says. He holds Simon’s gaze, and to Simon’s credit he stares back without faltering. Finally Dellert looks away, shooting a last glance around. His mustached lip curls and he signals to the other guards. “Let’s go.”
    They begin to file from the room, the Redeye stepping out first followed by the other two guards. Simon stays inside the door and doesn’t seem willing to leave until Dellert has left the room. Dellert moves past him and is almost through the door when the wind rises outside the window and a whistling comes from the far side of the room.
    Zoey’s heart falters, forgetting its purpose. She quits breathing, hoping against hope she was the only one who heard the sound.
    Dellert pauses and turns back, head cocked once again. “What was that?”
    “What?” Simon says, frowning.
    “I heard something,” Dellert says, crossing the space again. The two guards linger in the doorway but the Redeye moves past them, fingering the handgun on his belt. He corners Zoey, making her retreat with his encroachment. The wall meets her shoulder blades as she backs up.
    “It was the wind,” Zoey says, and to her horror there is a pleading note in her voice. Dellert seems to hear it and moves closer to the far corner, closer to the loosened glass panel.
    “Sure was, but it sounded strange,” Dellert says. He feels along the glass, his movements faster, excited. He shines his flashlight along the floor and then across the top frame of the window.
    The beam stops on the cracked casing around the right panel, and holds.
    Dellert freezes and slowly turns his head to look at her over his shoulder. “Oh Zoey, you clever girl.”
    Zoey begins to move, but the Redeye’s hand grips her arm and he shoves her back against the wall. Simon gives her a small shake of his head without looking her way.
    “Bring me the chair,” Dellert says. One of the other guards carries her desk chair to him, and he stands on it. There is a hanging moment that stretches and hope keeps the delicate thing in her chest whole for a moment before the glass panel shifts. Dellert pulls the piece away, his smile beyond joy as he hands it to the guard beside him. He turns back to the opening that floods the room with cool air and reaches into the darkness outside the window.
    When his hand reappears, it is grasping her books and the package of gum.
    “Well, look what we have here. Contraband.” Dellert shakes his head and steps down from the chair. As he approaches her, he begins tearing out single pages from The Count of Monte Cristo . They fall gracefully to the floor and the guard steps on several of them as he nears her. “So where did you get all this, Zoey?”
    She says nothing, only stares back at him with all the hatred she can muster. She wishes Zipper would have been in the alcove and torn his smug face completely off.
    Dellert shifts his gaze to Simon. “Cleric, do you know anything about this?”
    “No,” Simon says. “But it needs to be reported to the Director.”
    “I couldn’t agree more.” Dellert gives the guard at the door a quick nod, and the other man moves away down the corridor. “You’re in