‘Yep.’ Otis is breathing heavily. He lowers himself down real slow. Feet, calves, knees; he’s almost to mid-thigh through when he stops.
‘You okay?’ I call.
‘I’m caught.’ He sounds panicked. His words fast, urgent. ‘Can’t get through.’
‘You want some help?’ I say, looking up at the hatch’s rectangular opening. He looks wedged. ‘How about if I support your weight, can you twist diagonally into the gap, make yourself a little more space?’
‘Maybe.’ He sounds unsure; the fear from earlier is creeping back into his voice.
‘Let’s try.’ I move closer to his legs. Make my hands into a stirrup and put them under his sneakers. ‘Press down on me to give yourself some leverage.’
He does as I say. I brace under his weight. Hold steady. But it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference.
‘We’re wasting time,’ Cabressa mutters. ‘We need to get going.’
‘Keep adjusting,’ I say. The muscles in my arms are burning. Sweat’s running rivers between my shoulder blades and down my back. ‘You have to do this.’
Otis gasps from the effort. Keeps moving within the small space of the hatch, trying to get himself through.
Cabressa continues muttering about it being pointless. I ignore him. Will for Otis to keep trying. Suddenly the pressure releases from my hands as Otis raises himself up through the hatch with a roar. Then he forces himself down and through. It works. He drops through the hatch real fast. The power making him land hard. I stagger sideways as his feet connect with my hip. The glancing blow makes me lose my balance, and I fall to the floor, landing hard on my butt.
Pain vibrates up through my spine from tailbone to skull. I pay it no mind. We don’t have time for it right now. The temperature in the cramped space of the elevator car is hot and rising, and I know that Otis is more than a little claustrophobic. I need to find us a way out of here before he starts freaking out.
‘You okay?’ Otis asks me. He puts his hand out to help me up.
I take it. ‘Yeah, sure.’
He looks around the elevator car. ‘So what now?’
‘We get out of here,’ I say.
‘Finally,’ mutters Cabressa.
Otis is staring at the closed doors. ‘How? Is there another hatch?’
I shake my head. ‘No. We’re going to need to open these doors to get out onto whatever storey of the building this is.’
I sound more confident than I am. In truth I’ve no sense of whether the elevator car stopped between storeys, or if it was stopped on a floor at the time of the blackout. There’s only one way to find out.
‘Get the hell on with it then,’ growls Cabressa.
I glance over at him. In the gloom, I see he’s gotten the Glock in his hand, his finger on the trigger guard. I fight the urge to challenge him right now. By my calculation he has three more bullets in the gun; more than enough to do some serious damage in the confines of this metal box. I need to wait until we’re out of this space before I tackle him. I just hope that Monroe is getting all of this on the micro camera feed. He’s in the building, and his SWAT team are stationed outside in vehicles on the street. Once he knows which floor we’re on he should be able to help us. I think about JT and the group that were heading up to the roof garden and emergency fire escape, and hope to hell Monroe’s already gotten them help.
‘Quit dawdling,’ Cabressa says. ‘Get us out of this thing.’
I take a breath. Swallow down the anxiety that’s threatening to overwhelm me. And step towards the elevator control panel. The only buttons on it are the four penthouses. My breath catches in my throat. I remember now. The design of the elevator means they only service the residential or the hotel floors, not both. This is a residential elevator – if we’ve climbed down past the floors of privately owned apartments we might not be able to exit the elevator car at all.
At the top of the panel there’s a call button for emergencies. I know there’s no sense in pressing it – the power outage will have cut all communications – but I try anyways. I flinch – the alarm sounds loud in the small space of the elevator car. But nothing else happens. I lift the emergency phone. The line is dead.
‘Well?’ Cabressa says.
I shake my head. Think back to the blueprints and the elevator design. I didn’t study that section of the plans real close, but there’s usually a way to get elevator doors to open manually in the event the electronic mechanism failed. ‘We’re going to have to do it manually.’
Otis shakes his head. ‘How do we—’
‘There must be a manual override for the doors.’ I scan the control panel. The luminous glow from above the wooden panelling gives me enough light to see there’s a small compartment, its access door built into the panel. The sign on it reads: In case of emergency. Authorised use only.
I run my fingers down the side of the compartment looking for the release. Turn to look at Otis and Cabressa. ‘I think this is it.’
I feel the door release for the compartment and press it. The small door springs open. Inside is a metal lever with an arrow pointing downward. The sign above it reads Emergency Door Release.
‘Thank God,’ says Cabressa.
‘Yes, thank him,’ Otis says, without a hint of sarcasm.
Gripping the lever I pull it down in the direction of the arrow. There’s a clunk as something in the elevator doors disengages, and I see the doors move apart a fraction.
Looking at Otis, I step towards the doors. ‘I’m going to need your help with this.’
‘Sure.’ He moves over to join me.
We push our fingers into the small gap between the doors. He takes the left, and I the right. The elevator car could have stopped anywhere within the shaft – on a floor or between floors. There’s only one way to find out.
‘You ready?’ I say to Otis.
He nods.
I brace my legs. Focus all my energy on the door.
Slowly we start to prise open the doors. They’re real heavy and all kinds of stiff.
I grit my teeth. Pull harder. Know that if the elevator car is between storeys then we’re stuck here with no way of escape until the blackout ends. Beside me, Otis is murmuring quiet prayers.
As my arm and back muscles start to burn again I join Otis in a silent prayer to a God I don’t believe in.
Please, don’t let us be trapped.
46
They catch up with Johnny but not because of their speed. He’s stopped at level forty-nine according to the large number painted onto the emergency door that leads from the building to the twist of the staircase. Johnny shakes his head as they approach him. ‘It’s the end of the run, dudes.’
JT sees why. There’s a scaffold structure erected around the next flight of stairs – stretching from level forty-nine to forty-eight. He’s been conserving the battery of his cell, only using it when he has to. Now he pulls it from his pants pocket, switches on the flashlight and focuses the beam on the steps for a clearer look. A few steps below them the stairs have gone – there’s a flight of approximately twenty steps missing before the staircase continues. They must have gotten damaged or some such and been removed for repair or replacement. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t help them now. There’s no way to jump the distance. They’re going to need to find another way down.
Carmella turns to JT. ‘What now?’
‘We go back up,’ says Johnny. He gestures towards the emergency-exit door with the number forty-nine painted on it. ‘These exit doors can’t be opened from the outside, and there’s no lock for this dude to pick.’
‘We’re not going back,’ says JT. He can’t give up. Has to get round this. Switching off the flashlight on his cellphone, he checks if the service is back on, thinking he could call someone – Lori, Monroe – try and get help. He cusses. There’s still nothing.
‘The stairs are gone,’ says Carmella. ‘We can’t just—’
‘We’ll have to climb.’ JT moves past Johnn
y on the twist of the stairs and steps down to the final remaining step on this level. Taking hold of the closest scaffold pole, he pulls himself up and onto the structure. ‘If we climb down through the scaffolding we can reach the steps where they continue below.’
Johnny’s shaking his head. ‘Are you a crazy person?’
‘I’m a person who wants down from this building,’ says JT, his tone firm. He glances towards Carmella. ‘You coming?’
She looks torn. Glances up through the staircase to the roof, then back down at the gap in the steps. Shakes her head. ‘I’m not sure if I can.’
‘It’s your call,’ JT says. ‘But this is what I have to do.’
‘Johnny?’ Carmella looks at the ball player. ‘What are you going to do?’
Johnny cusses. Looks real pissed. ‘I hate heights, you know. This here is my kind of nightmare.’
‘We can go back to the roof,’ Carmella says. ‘Wait until the blackout’s over.’
Johnny shakes his head. ‘No, I don’t think so. I ain’t no pussy.’ He moves down onto the final step and reaches for the scaffolding bar. ‘And I want to get out of here just as much as this man.’
JT’s surprised, but he doesn’t say anything. His arms are starting to ache from the effort of holding the scaffolding, and he can feel a tremor in his legs as he braces against the bar below. ‘We need to move.’
Carmella bites her lower lip and steps towards the scaffold. ‘Okay.’
‘Go back up if you want,’ says JT. ‘We’ll make sure someone comes to get you once this is all over.’
She shivers. Hugs her arms around herself. ‘I’d rather climb down with you guys than stay up there alone.’
JT’s worried she’s not up to the climb, but it has to be her decision. ‘It’s your choice.’
‘Yes it is,’ she says, moving her gaze from JT to Johnny. She narrows her eyes. Takes a hold of the nearest scaffolding bar, still looking at Johnny, and pulls herself up onto the scaffold structure. ‘And I’ve made my decision.’
47
The doors open real slow.
Otis and me keep pulling. My arms are shaking from the effort. My dress is drenched with sweat. Opposite me, in the gloom of the elevator car, Otis grimaces as he leans back, putting all his strength against the doors.
Inch by inch they open. The scrape of metal on metal is loud in the elevator car, the sound amplified by the confined space of this metal box. I grit my teeth and redouble my efforts. Hope to hell we’re not opening the doors to reveal the side of the elevator shaft.
A few more inches, and the news is good. The elevator car must have stopped abruptly, in motion along the shaft, just past the exit to one of the floors – it’s half and half. From waist height the car is level with the wall of the elevator shaft, but waist-down there’s an opening into the building.
‘Do you know where we are?’ Otis says. His breath still laboured from the effort of opening the doors.
Crouching down, I peer out through the gap. It looks like a hallway, but it’s hard to tell as there’s no main lighting. The dull light there is comes from out of my eye-line – emergency lighting in the ceiling I reckon. Still, wherever we are, our best option is to get out of this elevator car.
Cabressa steps alongside me and squints out through the gap. ‘What’s out there?’
‘Freedom, man,’ says Otis, bending down to look.
I nod. ‘We’re going to need to climb out through the gap. I can’t tell exactly how far down it is to the hallway floor, but it’s definitely a bit of a drop. I’ll go first and then I can—’
‘No, I’ll go first,’ Cabressa says.
I glance over at him. In the murky darkness I see the outline of the Glock. Realising I’m watching, Cabressa taps the barrel against the palm of his other hand.
I’d hoped to get out first then overpower Cabressa while he was off guard during the climb down. I guess he’s figured I might have been thinking that, but in this tight, confined space, and with him holding the gun, there’s no sense in arguing right now. I step back from the edge. ‘Fine, go ahead.’
Cabressa moves first to his knees and then swivels round onto his belly so that he can use the floor of the elevator car for stability. He swings his legs over the edge, and starts to lower himself down into the hallway. It’s not fast, and he doesn’t make it look easy, especially with the gun in his hand.
‘Come on,’ says Otis.
I look over at the big boxer. His leg’s jigging and he’s looking real twitchy again. ‘You okay?’ I say in a hushed voice.
He nods. ‘Yep. Just hate being in this metal coffin. Need to be out, you know?’
‘Sure.’
Cabressa lets go of the edge and I hear a thud as he lands in the hallway below. There’s a beat, and I wonder what he’s doing. Then I hear his voice.
‘Come on.’
I want to get out of the elevator car real bad, but I can manage a little longer. I look at Otis. ‘You want to go next?’
He nods. Cracks a brief smile. ‘Appreciate it.’
I watch him manoeuvre himself into position – facing towards the back of the car on his hands and knees – and then reversing out of the gap feet first. He’s faster than Cabressa, and I’m thankful for that. I’m itching to get out of this metal box too.
As Otis drops down through the gap and disappears, I get ready to follow him. As I slide backward out through the gap, and dangle for a brief moment half in and half out of the car, I try not to think about what would happen if the power returned at this moment; how the elevator car would restart its journey along the shaft, and I’d be cut in two. The thought makes me move faster.
My exit isn’t elegant, but it’s effective. I land on my feet and exhale in relief. The hallway is dark aside from a dim glow from the safety lights that are recessed every few yards into the ceiling, powered, I assume, by the building’s back-up generator. We’re in a small lobby-type space. There are a couple of couches and a low table with a large flower arrangement in the centre. Opposite us, over on the far side, there’s a large floor-to-ceiling window.
Turning to Otis and Cabressa, I ask, ‘What floor are we on?’
‘Forty-nine,’ says Otis.
Hot damn. We climbed down fourteen storeys and have made it through the residential levels to the main hotel. This is good news. Monroe’s room is 5209 – just three levels above us. I hope the micro camera is still in place and working so he’s getting the feed; the power shouldn’t be a problem – it’s field equipment, designed to run off batteries and track by satellite. If he sees where we are he can come help, or send in the SWAT team he’d have gotten stationed outside the building. I stare at the sign for floor forty-nine to make sure the camera picks it up, and repeat Otis’s words. ‘We’re on floor forty-nine, great.’
‘Enough chit-chat,’ says Cabressa, gesturing along the hallway with the gun. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
I need to delay. Give time for Monroe and his people to get to us. Taking a risk, I ignore the old mobster and walk over to the floor-to-ceiling window on the opposite side of the foyer space. I gaze out through the glass. The city is still in darkness. The blackout isn’t over.
Glancing over my shoulder I look back at Cabressa. He’s scowling. Obviously anxious to get out of here and force me to lead him to the missing chess piece. He doesn’t care how many people have died. And he doesn’t care how many more die before he gets his way.
But I do.
Thisisn’t over.
48
The scaffold poles are rough from rust and the wear of usage. The air is damp, moisture lining the bars, making them slippery to handle. JT moves steadily along the pole, making sure every move is deft and deliberate. He keeps a tight grip and pushes his weight down into his feet. There’s no safety net – a mistake will result in a plummeting, forty-eight-storey fall, and there’s no coming back from that. The breeze that seemed gentle on the roof garden is stronger out here on the side of the buildi
ng, powerful gusts buffeting them as they climb.
JT glances up towards the others. Johnny’s doing okay; he’s tall like JT so he can reach between the poles and get good holds for his feet and hands. Even with the alcohol in his system, his athleticism means he’s navigating the scaffold with relative ease. Carmella’s a different story. She’s petite and lean, and too short to be able to get secure hand- and footholds at the same time. JT can see she’s tiring as she alternates between pulling herself up with her upper body strength, and then resting for a moment, crouched with her weight in her legs. Every movement down is riskier for her, and every drop to the next bar an over-extended stretch. JT can’t fathom why she didn’t choose to wait on the roof.
As they descend no words are spoken; the silence of the night broken only by the noise of their breathing and the occasional grunt of effort. Through the gaps in the scaffold JT sees the city stretching out below like a sleeping dragon. It looks still, dormant, but he knows that’s not true. In a blackout people can lose their perspective, sometimes their humanity. He hates to think what horrors are happening below on those darkened streets. He hopes Lori is staying safe.
He reaches the bottom of the structure. This is the hardest part. The scaffold sticks out over the staircase; to get back onto the steps he needs to manoeuvre himself around the bottom of the poles and a couple of yards back towards the stairs. There’s no easy way to do it. He figures the best option is to use the scaffold pole like a gym bar, and use his upper body strength to swing himself along the pole and onto the first step.
Deep Dark Night Page 19
