buildings. When they reached the building with the communications array, he touched her arm, silently asking her to wait, and then handed over his weapon. “If you need help, fire it. I’ll hear it and come to you.”
“Okay.”
“Thirty minutes,” he reminded her before backing away toward the building with the communications equipment.
Weapon in hand, she turned toward the other two buildings. The least damaged of the two still sported broken, faded letters above the entrance. There were many letters missing, but she could still make out the words school and dormitory. Certain this was her best chance to find answers, she walked toward the building and cautiously entered.
The gaping hole in the roof allowed enough sunlight so she could see fairly well. Even in its prime, the building must have been cold and austere. There was nothing warm or inviting about the space. It seemed hollow, empty and sad. She tried to imagine her mother as a child in this awful place.
So much of Maisie’s childhood made sense now. The way her mother had filled their living spaces, even the temporary ones, with happy drawings and plenty of books. Maisie had never gone hungry, and there had always been fresh fruit and milk with her meals as well as little treats. Her childhood might have been unconventional, especially once they started following her stepfather’s Splinter cell. Looking around this desolate place, Maisie appreciated the warmth and love her mother had always shown her.
She moved through the first floor of the crumbling building, trying to keep her steps soft and her movements smooth. She wanted to make as little noise as possible. Of all things Devious had taught her, being invisible was one of the most useful. This place seemed abandoned, but there was a chance Devious and Kris weren’t alone.
Maisie stepped through an open door into a classroom. Most of the desks were knocked over. Some were broken. A thick layer of dust and dirt covered the floor, and the cracked panes of glass let a chilly breeze and dampness into the space. She wandered through the classroom and back out into the hall. The other rooms on the left side of the hall looked exactly the same as the first.
When she crossed the hall, she slipped through a set of shattered double doors. The room she entered was enormous, running the full length of the building. At first glance, it looked like some kind of gymnasium. It wasn’t until she got close enough to read some of the faded posters still tacked to the wall that she understood this wasn’t a regular school gym. No, it was a training facility for killers.
The posters on the wall depicted various fighting techniques, some hand-to-hand combat and others using knives or batons. The ratty old mats on the floor had cracked from the constant exposure to the elements, but she could picture how they had been arranged when the gym was new and bustling with students. In her mind’s eye, she could see her mother tumbling on the mats and striking at the dummies standing so creepily in the corners of the tumbledown gym.
All the little questions she had always had about her mother finally had their answers. She had always wondered why her mother was so assured in dangerous situations and why she never shied away from a fight. Her mother’s skill at handling a knife had always been something that fascinated her. Even just watching her mother chop vegetables or field dress meat was a wonder.
This was why her mother had rarely spoken of this place. This was why her mother had remembered this part of her life with such abhorrence. This was why her mother hadn’t run away from Randy or his Splinter cell. She had been a spy.
Overwhelmed by the realization that her family was even more fucked up than she had ever imagined, Maisie backed out of the gym and crept toward the staircase. She planned to go as high as she safely could. If Devious or Kris had taken cover inside the building, they might have chosen to go to the second or third stories.
The second floor of the building housed the dormitories. They were split into two large sections, one for boys and one for girls. There were locker room style bathrooms at each end and smaller private bedrooms for staff. She walked down the rows of beds in the girl’s dormitory, imagining all the little girls sleeping in them. Did they wonder if their