5.p.
“Down here!”
Fair Wage called out. He was standing
near an open door in the blue-lined hallway.
Inside was a stairwell illuminated by a harsh amber light which stabbed
out into the cool, twilight tones of the corridor. “Oh crap.
I hear something.”
Fair Wage
jumped back and closed the stairway door.
Supply rushed forward yelling, “No.
It’s him. It’s him.”
She pulled the
door open and went to the edge of the landing.
“Supply? Is that you?” Demand said.
“Yes. I’m here,” she said. Corporate Man and Senior Executive brought
Demand up to the landing where Supply hugged him to her chest. Instead of wincing at the pressure to his
injuries, he stood taller. He seemed
strengthened. His wounds stopped
bleeding. Supply gasped for breath when
they parted.
“Where are
we?” asked Senior Executive.
“We’re still
on the thirteenth floor,” said Supply, still trying to catch her breath. “A secondary level though.”
“Any
hostiles?” Corporate Man asked.
“None so far,”
she said and slumped against Senior Executive.
“Just some
creepy photographs,” said Franklin Buck.
There was a
loud clanging slam as a steel panel fell from the wall, swung against the down
stairwell, and sealed it shut. A chorus
of similar sounds echoed throughout the floor.
“That can’t be
good,” said Franklin Buck.
Corporate Man
gathered everyone together, advised them all to stay close to avoid getting
separated, and moved them down the hallway through the dim, bluish light.
They’d walked
for what felt like hours and though the immediate danger seemed a distant
memory, somehow the atmosphere of the place had grown more ominous. They searched various offices, a couple
cleaning closets, a break room, and some bathrooms, but found nothing.
Fair Wage was
getting tired. His aged body was under
much strain. When they found themselves
in another break room he marched to the water cooler and said, “I don’t care
what they charge me, I need water.”
He filled a
small cup and drank deep.
“Oh god. It’s salty.”
The water
cooler gurgled and sputtered then started to shake.
“Everyone get
back,” said Business Woman, herding them to the far side of the break room.
The water cooler
burst, spouting up like a geyser, boiling against the ceiling, and drenching
the room. Similar explosions could be
heard throughout the floor.
The Union
fled the break room, but found the hallway equally discomforting. Water streamed from huge metal grates in the
ceiling. A deep, meaty slapping sound
pounded against the grates and the entire floor shuddered. Then the bolts securing the grates to the
ceiling gave way and the whole thing crashed to the floor, pinned beneath the
bulk of a large, agitated shark.
“Oh shit,”
said Business Woman.
“Is that a
Great White?” asked Franklin Buck as the shark flopped and writhed in the six
inches of water that had accumulated on the on the hallway floor.
“No,” said
Fair Wage as he and the rest of the Union ran in a
general “away” direction. “That’s a grey
reef shark.”
Another loud
snap and thunderous clang brought down a second ceiling grate and an even
larger shark.
“That one’s a
Great White,” Fair Wage said.
The water was
nearly a foot deep and the grey reef shark behind them skittered and floundered
over the carpeted floor, making some progress in the Union’s
direction.
“Through
here,” said Corporate Man. He opened the door to a small office. They raced in, ran to a door on the far side
of the room, charged through it, and found themselves in a large, open space
with a tall ceiling.