Chapter 18 · Someone Else's Switch

"It's not the lock." Torin's voice comes out low, flat, like he's talking himself into believing it. "Feel that?"

I feel it. Our hands are still stacked on the key, four fingers of his over two of mine, and there's a pulse coming through the metal that isn't mechanical. A give-and-take. A weight pushing back from the other side of the hatch, steady, patient, like something breathing against a door instead of a lock refusing to turn.

"Somebody's leaning on it," I say. "From outside."

"Yeah."

"You said this key overrides everything."

"It's supposed to." His jaw ticks. "Supposed to means the panel's obeying the system. If a body's holding the hatch shut with its own weight, the system doesn't matter. Doesn't matter if you've got the President's key in there."

The countdown on the wall reads 14:02. It doesn't blink anymore. It just counts, mean and quiet, red digits reflecting off the wet concrete.

"So we're not fighting a lock," I say. "We're fighting a person."

"We're fighting a person who wants us thinking it's a lock.