Deep Dark Night

by Steph Broadribb

  ‘Doing my best,’ he says.

  I smile at that, despite the ache that’s creeping into my hands and fingers from finding and clinging on to the metal struts of the elevator cage. As long as Otis is here it’ll be two against one when we reach the bottom. There’s hope that between us we can disarm Cabressa. We’re younger and we’re fitter. And the mobster will be tired after the climb, hopefully more so than us. I have to believe we can get the gun from him. I have to make that my plan.

  *

  There’s no light now. My cellphone battery’s died.

  I keep climbing. Maintain the same rhythm. Find the footholds with my toes, and the handholds with my fingers. My bare feet are sore; cramp is setting in to my toes. There’s no way to tell how far down we are. All we can do is keep climbing until we reach the ground, and so we do.

  Minutes pass.

  We keep climbing.

  My fingers become numb. My biceps and thigh muscles ache like a bitch.

  Still we climb.

  ‘How much longer?’ calls Otis. He sounds exhausted.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I reply. I want to give him hope, but we could have four storeys to go or forty. The darkness and the echoing metal tube of the elevator shaft are disorientating. I have no sense now of how far we’ve climbed.

  ‘Just move it,’ growls Cabressa. There’s aggression in his tone, but tiredness too.

  We keep moving, climbing. It’s all we can do.

  Cramp turns my fingers into claws. I struggle to grip the struts of the elevator cage. Cuss under my breath and force myself to grip the metal through the pain.

  I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.

  Keep climbing.

  Maintain the same rhythm.

  Fight the pain in my fingers, my arms, my legs.

  My foot hits something solid. Metal. The sound of it echoes like a thunderclap in the constricted space of the shaft.

  ‘Lori?’ Otis calls, fear in his voice.

  ‘What’s the hell’s that?’ Cabressa calls from a way above me to the right. ‘Did you reach the ground?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ I slide my foot along the metal. Put a little more of my weight onto it and feel it flex beneath me. Remove my foot. The metal vibrates.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Otis asks. ‘You okay?’

  I don’t reply.

  ‘What’s happening?’ says Cabressa. He sounds worried.

  ‘It’s real hard to tell with no light,’ I snap back. ‘Give me a minute, will you.’

  They both stay silent.

  I climb lower, so I’m not stretching to reach the platform, then put one of my feet back onto it. The metal is cold against my bare foot. Slowly I put my weight onto that foot. The metal flexes again, but this time I keep my foot in place until all of my weight is on it. The metal holds. Feels secure. I think it’s the roof of an elevator car.

  Removing my foot I twist around, changing my position from facing the shaft wall to being side-on to it. Gripping the metal strut with my left hand, I reach my right hand out into the middle of the shaft void. They hit the thick, twisted metal cables that move the elevator cars up and down the shaft. Holding onto the thickest one, I feel my way down it to the platform. The cable is attached to the car via a heavy metal ring.

  Stepping off from the struts, I place both feet on the car’s roof. The metal flexes like before but holds my weight. Letting go of the cage strut with my left hand, I drop to my knees and run my hands over the metal roof of the car. Searching.

  It takes me a minute to find it, but when I do I feel relief flood through me. There’s a hatch in the car’s roof. If I can get it open, we’ll be able to climb down into the elevator car.

  ‘What’s going on down there?’ says Cabressa.

  ‘It’s the elevator car,’ I shout up to him. ‘I’m trying to open the hatch so we can climb down into it.’

  Above me in the darkness I hear Otis praying.

  ‘Quit that, will you,’ growls Cabressa.

  Otis is quiet for a moment. Then he continues, a little quieter than before.

  Personally I’m happy for the prayers. Right now we need every piece of help we can get.

  I run my fingers around the rectangular edge of the hatch. It’s hinged along one of the long edges. Flattening my palms, I swipe them over the hatch. That’s when I feel it – a handle. Gripping it with my right hand, I try to open the hatch.

  Nothing happens. The handle is stuck rigid.

  I try again. Use both hands around the handle. Twist it left, then right.

  Looking up, I yell towards the others, ‘I’ve found the way into the car, but the damn handle won’t budge.’

  ‘You want some help?’ Otis asks.

  ‘Sure do,’ I reply.

  In the darkness I hear Otis start to climb down towards me. His progress is slow, and from the sounds of his feet on the struts he was far higher above me than I’d realised.

  ‘Come on, come on,’ says Cabressa. ‘What’s the hold-up?’

  Otis doesn’t reply. But a moment later I hear his feet strike the elevator car roof, and the metal sheet flexes beneath me.

  ‘Where’s the handle?’ Otis sounds out of breath from the effort of climbing. From the direction of his voice I figure he’s on the other side of the elevator car roof, the other side of the cables from me.

  ‘Move towards me,’ I say. ‘It’s over here. Be careful, the cables are attached in the centre of the roof. Go slowly.’

  Up above us, Cabressa tuts.

  Otis ignores him, says, ‘On my way.’

  I hear Otis slide his feet across the roof. The metal flexes beneath his weight, and I hope to hell it’ll hold us both. Then I hear the sound of clothes rubbing against the steel cables and smell his fruity cologne mixed with the odour of musky, sour sweat. A moment later he’s beside me.

  ‘Let’s get this thing open,’ Otis says.

  ‘Down here,’ I say.

  He kneels beside me, and I guide his hands to the handle of the emergency hatch. ‘I can’t get the damn thing to budge.’

  ‘Okay,’ Otis says.

  I remove my hands and let him grip the handle. I can’t see what he’s doing, there’s no light – all I can make out of him is a vague shadow – but I hear the effort. He grunts like a weight lifter in a muscle gym. Gasps. ‘Jeez it’s tight.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say.

  ‘Get it done,’ calls Cabressa.

  We both ignore him.

  I put my hands over Otis’s on the handle. ‘I’ll help.’

  ‘Okay,’ he says.

  We try again. No movement.

  ‘It’s hopeless,’ says Otis. He sounds beat, real defeated.

  ‘We can’t give up. This is our only way out.’ I clench my fingers tighter around his and the handle. ‘Again.’

  We tug at the handle. I’m leaning back, pulling with all my weight. Otis grunts and groans.

  I feel it give a fraction. ‘Keep going, it’s working.’

  Otis is breathing hard. He keeps pulling, so do I.

  There’s a fraction more movement in the handle, and for a moment I think it’s stuck again. Then it slides the rest of the way real fast. I lose my balance and fall back against Otis. We land sideways on the metal sheet. The vibrations from our fall echo through the elevator shaft.

  ‘What the hell’s happening?’ Cabressa yells.

  ‘You okay?’ I ask Otis.

  ‘Yeah,’ he replies, still breathless.

  I push myself back up onto my knees. Reach for the handle. It clicks, and the hatch opens down into the elevator car. I peer through the hole. There’s no light inside the car, but it seems that the trim around the top of the wooden panelling is coated in luminous paint, giving the interior a slightly ghostly glow. After the pitch dark of the elevator shaft it seems almost as good as daylight. Relief floods through me. We’ve done it. I look up into the blackness of the shaft and call to Cabressa. ‘We’re in.’

  *


  Cabressa insists that he’s the one to climb into the elevator car first. I don’t argue, and there’s no sense in it, but something else is troubling me – whether Otis is going to fit through the emergency hatch.

  Otis and me step off the elevator car roof onto the struts of the cage as Cabressa steps down onto the sheet metal roof. I figure we’re hitting the maximum load it can hold with the two of us. It’s safer this way.

  ‘Go onto your knees first,’ I instruct Cabressa. ‘Then go feet first into the car. It’s a little ways down so keep a grip on the roof until you’re straightened up.’

  ‘Got it,’ says Cabressa. His tone implying he doesn’t need my help.

  Fine by me. I’m not sure why I’m even caring.

  I stay silent. Listen to the sound of Cabressa’s breathing, his feet moving across the sheet metal roof, the grunt of effort as he crawls through the hatch opening. There’s a bang as he hits the floor of the elevator car, followed by a stream of cusses.

  ‘You okay?’ I call.

  There’s more cussing. Then he replies, ‘My goddamn ankle twisted.’

  I don’t feel sorry, I feel hope. If he’s injured it’ll be easier for me and Otis to get free and clear of him once we’re out of the elevator.

  ‘You go next, Lori,’ Otis says.

  Neither of us say it, but I reckon he’s thinking the same as me – can he fit through the hatch opening?

  ‘Okay,’ I say, stepping down from the cage strut and onto the roof of the elevator car. I move lightly across the metal roof to the hatch. Drop to my knees, and bring my feet around to dangle through the hole. I see now why Cabressa fell – there’s nowhere to get a decent handhold. I grip the edge of the hatch real tight. Can’t afford to injure myself, not if I’m going to break free of Cabressa.

  Taking a deep breath, I swing myself down through the hole into the elevator car.

  44

  It takes a while for JT and Johnny to find the emergency stairwell. And when they do it’s not as JT expected – it’s like a modern, sleek take on an old zig-zagging fire escape. He’s never seen anything like it on such a tall building. He would’ve thought it’d be against safety regulations, but here it is. It curves like a chrome lattice around the exterior wall, climbing roses with pink, white and red flowers camouflaging it with a riot of colour, fitting in so well into the garden design that it’s practical purpose is almost invisible.

  JT stands in the space between the exterior wall and the back of the glass summerhouse structure. The gap is a couple of yards wide and is the point that the chrome lattice morphs from a climbing frame for plants to a climbing frame for humans. There’s a break in the exterior wall of just over a yard where a heavy metal gate is fastened into the brickwork – the entrance to the emergency escape route. The chrome lattice, flattened into a thin band, bends around the top of the gate and then broadens as it plunges down below it, taking the form of a tight, zig-zagging staircase.

  He looks down. It’s steep and the treads of each step are narrow. Johnny’s bleeding and still drunk, and Carmella’s in a bad way from the lack of oxygen. Getting down from sixty-three storeys to ground level isn’t going to be easy.

  ‘We going down that?’ Johnny says.

  JT nods. ‘Only option we’ve got.’

  Johnny grimaces as he moves towards the gate and pulls back the heavy bolt to unfasten it. ‘Okay then.’

  ‘We need to get Carmella,’ says JT.

  Johnny looks around. ‘Where is she?’

  JT spots her through the glass windows of the summerhouse. She’s still in the same place as before, on the other side of the summerhouse, lying on the tiled mosaic floor. It looks as if she’s sleeping. He gestures towards her. ‘I’ll go get her.’

  ‘Whatever, dude,’ says Johnny, pulling the gate wide and stepping through it onto the staircase. ‘I’m out of here.’

  JT’s not surprised. It’s already clear Johnny’s only out for himself. He doesn’t reply, instead he hurries around the summerhouse towards Carmella.

  She’s lying flat out on the mosaic pathway, her body limp, her eyes closed. JT crouches down beside her. Puts his hand on her arm and gives her a small shake. ‘Carmella, wake up?’

  She wakes with a start. Eyes wide, gasping for breath. ‘Help … I…’

  ‘It’s okay, you’re safe,’ says JT.

  As Carmella looks at him her breathing steadies, and the panic in her eyes disappears. ‘I thought I was back in the suite. That the air had run out and…’

  ‘We’ve found the way out of here,’ JT says, standing up. ‘We need to go.’

  Carmella peers through the gloom, looking around. ‘Where’s Johnny? You said he was here too.’

  ‘He’s already gone.’

  Carmella says nothing. If she’s surprised about Johnny not waiting for them, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she silently gets to her feet. As she straightens up, she loses her balance, staggers sideways.

  JT grabs for her. Holds her upright. ‘Take a moment.’

  She nods. Grips his arms, leaning into him for support.

  He wonders how she’s going to manage on the staircase. ‘Wait until you’ve got your balance back. Your body’s still trying to get your oxygen levels up.’

  ‘But you’re okay. Why am I still affected?’

  He shakes his head. ‘Everyone’s different. Just be patient.’

  She mutters something under her breath. Sounds like, I don’t have time to be patient.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asks.

  Carmella doesn’t repeat it. Instead she lets go of his arms and says, ‘Okay, let’s go.’

  He’s concerned she’s not ready, but he doesn’t argue. Carmella’s a grown woman; she can make her own decisions. And he wants to get out of here, to find Lori.

  ‘It’s this way,’ says JT, leading her along the pathway towards the back of the summerhouse. The starlight seems to glint off the tiny silver pieces of mosaic in the path and the chrome frame of the summerhouse roof. It’s kind of beautiful – or it would be in other circumstances.

  Johnny’s left the gate to the stairwell unfastened and swaying in the breeze. Taking hold of it, JT pulls it open wider and gestures to Carmella to go first. She’s looking steadier on her feet now. He hopes she’s up to this. ‘Watch your step,’ he says. ‘It’s pretty steep.’

  She takes a few steps down. Looks unsteady, her pace erratic.

  ‘Hold the hand rail,’ JT says, keeping close behind her. The steps are narrow, and the chrome is too polished to give any kind of grip. The zig-zagging staircase might look good, but it’s more dangerous than the old iron pull-downs its design seems to be based on.

  A few steps later Carmella slips. Cries out.

  JT lunges for her. Manages to grab the back of her dress and stop her falling. As he pulls her back a metal clip comes loose from her hair and clatters down the staircase. They watch it fall from step to step. A moment later there’s a shout.

  ‘What the fuck?’ Johnny’s voice comes from somewhere below them, but too far away for them to see him in the gloom. ‘You trying to kill me, dude? I almost took a dive.’

  ‘Sorry,’ shouts JT. ‘It was an accident.’

  ‘Just don’t do anything like that again.’

  ‘Yep.’ JT turns to Carmella. She’s pale and shaken-looking, but there’s something else in her expression too. Annoyance. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Sure.’ She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Looks down the staircase. ‘How far down is Johnny?’

  ‘It’s hard to say.’

  Carmella peers down into the darkness. ‘He can’t be that far away, a couple of levels at most.’ She looks back at JT. ‘We should catch up with him.’

  Before JT can reply, Carmella starts down the stairs again. She’s holding the rail now at least, but she’s moving faster. JT hurries behind her, alert for any more slips, but it’s hard work. His lungs feel heavy, breathing is more difficult than normal, and Carmella is fast.

&nb
sp; ‘Hey,’ she calls down the stairs towards Johnny. ‘Wait up.’

  45

  I catch my hip on the way through the hatch; the metal pulls at the fabric of my dress and scrapes my thigh, but I make it through and land with a clatter on the floor of the elevator car. I manage to stay on my feet. Straighten up. Over in the corner I see Cabressa leaning against the wall. There’s a pained expression on his face, and he’s favouring his left leg, but when he sees me looking he straightens up. Gets his poker face on. It’s too late though; I’ve seen the weakness.

  ‘Clear,’ I shout to Otis.

  I hear a thud above me and know that he’s stepped back onto the elevator car’s metal roof. His footsteps are slow and heavy as he moves over to the hatch. I’m real worried. It’s kind of narrow. Cabressa was fine and all, but he isn’t a broad guy. Otis is tall and muscular from the boxing. I’m not sure he’s going to fit.

  I wait. Looking up at the open hatch. Waiting for Otis.

  ‘Taking his time,’ growls Cabressa. ‘We need to keep going down.’

  ‘No,’ I say, my tone firm.

  Cabressa scowls but he doesn’t push it. I figure he knows that he’s physically compromised and that puts him at risk. I could tackle him now, and it could be that I’d get the better of him. But I hold back, just for a little longer. If he was to get a shot off inside the elevator car, the ricochet could kill us all. I’m not willing to take that risk.

  There’s more movement on the car’s roof, and I see Otis’s feet appear through the hatch opening.

  ‘Steady,’ I call up to him. ‘It’s quite a drop.’