“No one ever listens to me but I know what’s what. You go in there and bad shit’ll happen to you.”
“Like what?”
But he’s already moved on, pushing his cart out of sight around the back of a taxicab.
I turn back to continue my search for a card reader. I find it hidden behind a laurel plant in a terracotta pot. I swipe the card Cathy gave me. There’s a quiet beep and then a click as the door unlocks.
I walk inside and there’s something eerie about the place. An office building with no people in is a strange sight, like a party with no guests. Or the Overlook just before Jack starts to really lose it.
If Danny appeared from around the corner on a trike, whispering, “Red Rum,” I wouldn’t be that surprised. Better him on a trike than Jigsaw anyway if I’ve got the option.
I look for a staircase. I’ve never been a fan of elevators. Confined spaces like that remind me too much of my childhood.
I can’t find one. Not even a sign for one. In the end I’ve no choice but to walk past the empty reception to the bank of elevators, all of them with black doors, the ubiquitous F painted on each one.
The letter is everywhere I look. On the reception desk, on the walls, on each door. Even each marble tile in the floor has a small F in the center.
I press the nearest call button and wait, listening hard. No sound at all. The elevator either isn’t opening or working at all. I try the next one. Same thing.
Only when I get to the end elevator do I get a response to my button press. A whir of the cables. Loud in the silence of the empty building.
Am I the only person in the entire place?
I get a sudden urge to strip naked and run around doing cartwheels, maybe a Risky Business kind of dance. I stifle a giggle, picturing the sight of me doing that in the altogether.
Maybe if there was no one outside, I might indulge in a bit of madness. And the human race had been wiped out. The building might be empty but the city isn’t. People can see in just as easily as I can see out. They would see me.
I feel a flash of stupid excitement at the idea but I swallow it down as the elevator bell rings. I’m never going to do anything like that. Not now, not ever.
The doors slide silently open to reveal a burgundy carpet with an F in the center, mirrored walls, my reflection looking back at me.
I do not look like I belong in here. Faded gray top, jeans, battered overcoat. I imagine the CEO walking in and finding me here, tossing me out into the street for daring to sully his sacred business space with such dismal attire. Thick Italian accent like he’s walked off an ice cream commercial. Mario level mustache. “Whya you looka so bad? Mama mia.” His hands waving before he tosses me out and then returns to jumping on turtles.
I walk into the elevator and turn to face the buttons. Before I get a chance to hit the B, the doors close and I’m whizzing upward.
The walls close in on me. My breathing becomes ragged. I punch the B button. Nothing happens. I’m still going up. I hit all the buttons one after another, slamming my fist into the panel a moment later when they refuse to respond at all.
In my panic I punch the panel again and the elevator grinds to a halt, sparks coming out from behind the buttons.
“Uh oh,” I say out loud as my breathing grows ragged. There’s no other sound. Only my panting as my heart pounds in my chest, the walls getting ever closer. I see myself in the mirror, getting scared by how wild my eyes look.
The five hundred dollars doesn’t seem worth it now. I’m trapped in an elevator. Maybe I should have listened to the guy outside. Bad juju. He wasn’t kidding.
What if the elevator falls? No one here to find me. I’ll be nothing but mangled flesh and broken bones all night. Alone. What if it doesn’t kill me straight away? What if I slowly bleed to death and they find my body in the morning?
My breathing gets even more labored as my mouth opens wide, a cry for help emerging that’s worryingly close to an out of control scream.
“Help!”
Relax,I tell myself.Just calm down.
I can’t calm down. I’m stuck in here and there’s no way out and I’m going to die and no one will find me until it’s too late.
Take a breath. Is there a button to call for help?
I don’t know. I don’t care. I need to get out.
Stop panicking. Look at the panel.