Chaos (22 page)

Standish didn’t blink.

Keeping the pistol trained on him, my right hand reached to the desk and felt around until my fingers touched my satchel. I grabbed it and hoisted it over my shoulder.

I strode to the front of the desk, edged my way around it, and slowly started backing toward the hallway.

“I’m not joking,” Standish said. “I’ll kill you.”

“You shoot me, I shoot you.”

“I’ll do it. I swear to God I’ll do it.”

My chest tightened as I walked backward. Was he bluffing?

Or would he follow through on his threat?

I continued to walk backward until I bumped up against the clouded glass doors. I pushed my way through them and into the corridor. Seconds later, the clouded glass doors swung shut, shielding me from sight. A wave of relief swept over me.

But it didn’t last.

Keeping my gun pointed at the door, I pressed the elevator call button. As the gears worked, my thoughts turned to the next step. Undoubtedly, there were guards in the lobby. How would I get by them?

The doors opened and I ran into the elevator car. As it descended toward the lobby, I tried to formulate a plan. But I quickly discarded all of my ideas due to lack of information. There were just too many variables to consider.

I plastered my back against the wall next to the door. It wasn’t the ideal position to stage a gunfight, but at least it gave me some cover.

My body jolted as the elevator jerked to a halt. I stood still for a moment, feeling blood and sweat drip down my face. I tried to remain patient, but the elevator car remained absolutely still.

Reaching over, I pressed the Down button.

The car didn’t move.

I waited a few seconds and then pressed it again.

Still no movement.

Abruptly, the elevator jerked and started to glide along its rails.

My heart started to pound against my chest.

The elevator wasn’t going down…it was going up.

Chapter 36

The elevator car ignored me as I repeatedly slammed my finger against the Down button. Instead, it continued to creep upward at about half speed, slowly returning me to the one place I didn’t want to go.

Back to the top floor.

Back to Standish. Back to Chase.

Back to danger.

I examined the control panel. But besides the Up and Down buttons, the only other object within reach was a small black phone.

Suddenly, it rang.

I froze in place.

It rang again.

I picked it up. “Hello?”

“Nice try, Cyclone,” Chase said. “But I’m afraid your luck’s run out. We’ll see you soon.”

“Can I get a rain check?”

The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

I returned the phone to its cradle. Chase sounded confident, cocky even. I got the sense that it wasn’t just him waiting for me. With my luck, he’d probably called for additional support via a back staircase or something.

Suppressing my annoyance, I returned my attention to the control panel.

Removing my machete from the satchel, I rammed it into the small space between the wall and the panel. It took a few seconds for me to pry it open.

I was greeted by a dizzying array of wires and switches. I fiddled with them for a few seconds, trying to understand the complicated network at my fingertips. But I knew I’d never figure it out in time.

Stepping back, I raised the machete and stabbed it into the panel. The blade swooped through the air, shearing the wires and destroying the switches.

The lights evaporated.

The humming noise stopped.

And then, the elevator car ground to a halt.

Triumph surged through me. But it melted away quickly. Twenty stories still separated me from the lobby.

I hadn’t stopped the inevitable.

I’d merely delayed it.

My eyes swept the space, searching for options. To the right of the now-dark overhead light, I noticed something that looked like an access panel. Climbing around in an elevator shaft didn’t sound like a good time. And between my sore, exhausted body and torn, bloody hands, I wasn’t even sure I could handle it.

But anything was better than waiting around for the welcoming party.

I returned the machete to its sheath and leapt into the air. My hand banged against the metal panel. It lifted an inch and slammed shut again.

As I dropped back to the floor, I looked up in frustration. The overhead panel was locked. I reached for my flashlight to take a closer look.

Light blazed from above. Squinting, I shielded my eyes.

What the hell…?

The phone rang.

I grabbed it without looking. “Can’t this wait? I’m a little busy in here.”

“Watch this.”

The elevator jerked again.

Then it started to rise.

Chase’s voice spat into my ear. “Now, you listen to me, asshole. That was your last…”

I hung up on him.

As I turned back to the overhead panel, I felt my stomach tying itself into knots. Obviously, the elevator car was hooked up to a backup power source somewhere. On the bright side, I was only rising at a quarter of the original speed.

But I was still rising.

I jumped up again, smashing my fist into the panel. Again, it only budged an inch. However, this time I managed to catch a glimpse of the lock’s position.

Grabbing my gun, I took aim at the panel.

As I prepared to fire, a brief vision of a bullet bouncing around inside the elevator crossed my mind. Pushing it away, I gritted my teeth.

No time for doubts.

I fired. The blast reverberated in the elevator as the lock exploded into smithereens. I steeled myself and waited for the telltale sound of bouncing metal. But silence followed. After a few seconds, I released my breath.

Wasting no time, I returned the gun to its holster. Then I bent down and jumped again. My fist crashed into the access panel. It flew out of the way, revealing a wide gap.

I landed back in the elevator car. Crouching low, I jumped again. My fingers wrapped around the sharp metallic edges of the hole. Wincing, I flexed my arms and slowly pulled myself up.

Moments later, I scrambled onto the roof of the elevator car. It quivered slightly and although it seemed secure, I couldn’t help but wonder when it received its last inspection.

I knelt next to the crosshead and took the opportunity to study the elevator shaft. Each corner contained two metal beams, which ran the length of the shaft. Thin metal fencing, interspersed with long blocks of wood, ran in a continuous loop behind the beams. Between two of the beams, I saw a substantial counterweight, slowly dropping to the ground.

My eyes followed a pair of thick hoist cables to a pulley positioned at the top of the shaft.

“I see him!”

A glint of light caught my eye as the unfamiliar voice rumbled down from above.

I heard a burst.

A breeze shot by my side.

Abruptly, a torrent of gunfire rained down upon me. I scrambled back to the hole and dropped head first into the elevator car.

The gunfire ceased but it didn’t matter.

I was screwed.

Completely, utterly screwed.

The elevator car was hauling me to my eventual grave and my long-shot attempt to escape had been thwarted. In frustration, I slammed my foot on the floor.

It moved.

Not much, but it still moved. I kneeled and studied the area. A thin patch of carpet covered the car’s entire floor. Taking out my machete, I began hacking away at it.

The blade quickly exposed a depressed compartment. Inside it, I saw a second access panel, locked with a small padlock. I fired my gun at the panel. Metal exploded as the bullet ripped through the lock and left a steaming hole in its wake. Leaning down, I unlatched the panel and opened it up.

Below, I saw a couple of cables vanishing into a deep, dark abyss.

Why can’t I just use the stairs like everyone else?

I sat and dangled my legs out of the elevator car. They wrapped around the cable and I carefully lowered myself into the shaft. Then I began to climb downward.

My frustration began to seep through as I worked my way down the cable. For every foot I descended, the elevator seemed to pull me another two feet into the air. I felt like a damn iceberg.

The elevator slammed to a halt. I snuck a glimpse upward. I’d managed to separate myself from the car. Unfortunately, I wasn’t out of shooting range.

Far from it.

I heard angry shouts. A few moments passed. Then a thin light poked through the car and into the dark shaft. It swept from one side to the other. As it fell onto me, it stopped.

Then it clicked off.

I looked at the gigantic counterweight, but it was too far away to reach. Shifting my gaze, I realized that the thin shaft offered nothing in the way of hiding spots or cover.

Bracing myself, I loosened my grip and slid down the cable. The metal strands sliced through my raw skin. My blood splattered all over the shaft.

Blocking out the pain, I peeked upward.

I saw no light.

I heard no gunfire.

See you later, suckers.

But the farther I slid, the more doubt I felt. The shaft was thin and wide open and I was climbing down the centermost cable. I might as well have been hiding in front of a bulls-eye.

A motor whirred to life and the cable jerked to the side. Caught by surprise, I halted for a split second. But to my horror, I continued to descend.

Chase wasn’t going to shoot me.

He was going to crush me.

Some people die having sex with a beautiful woman. But not me. I get to be smashed like a bug on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

I loosened my grip further. My hands stung as I dropped down the shaft. Soon they felt like they were on fire and I could almost smell the smoke wafting from the cable. But still, I felt the car bearing down on me. I was moving fast, but not fast enough.

As I slid down the cable, I kept my eyes glued to the bottom of the shaft. At first, I saw only darkness. But soon, the bottom appeared.

It looked like a mixture of metal blocks and rails. I slid down another few feet. Then with about ten feet to go, I released the cable.

Bending my knees on impact, I absorbed some of the blow. But the landing still jarred me to my core and my right leg began to throb uncontrollably. Shaking it off, I hobbled over to the elevator doors.

My hands stretched out, gripping their edges. I pulled with all my strength.

And they didn’t budge an inch.

As the whirring noise grew louder, I looked up. The elevator soared down at me at an incredible clip. My gaze shot to the open access panel. If I positioned myself under it, I could reenter the car and…

Metal slammed against metal.

And suddenly, the access panel was closed.

There was nowhere to hide. The elevator was freshly pressed to the rails, leaving just a few inches of room on all sides. I had no more than thirty seconds before it landed on top of me.

Thirty seconds until it crushed me.

Thirty seconds until I died.

I twisted back to the doors. My hand flew to my belt, extracting my machete. Rearing back, I stabbed it at the thin opening. It slid in a little bit but when I tried to maneuver it, the blade slipped out again.

I felt the elevator car looming above me.

Fifteen seconds until impact.

Balancing myself, I reared back again and stabbed my machete at the crack. This time, it neatly slid into the space.

I pulled hard and the doors opened an inch or two. Jamming my hand inside the space, I lifted myself onto a small platform.

Ten seconds.

I struggled to pull the doors open.

Five seconds.

Four seconds.

Three seconds.

The doors opened a foot. I dove through them and rolled. As they slammed shut behind me, I heard the elevator car settle into its berth.

Standing up, I shoved the machete into my sheath and sprinted across the lobby.

I heard a dinging noise followed by the sound of angry shouts. Ignoring them, I grabbed my pistol and took aim at the glass doors separating me from the streets.

I squeezed the trigger. The glass cracked as bullets collided with its smooth surface. Ducking my head, I leapt forward.

As I soared through the doors, they shattered into a million pieces. I felt a surge of adrenaline.

I was exhausted. I was bleeding like a stuck pig. And I was sore as hell.

But I was alive.

Sorry, Reaper. Maybe next time.

Chapter 37

Rain stung my neck and shoulders as my momentum carried me onto the sidewalk. I didn’t want to do a face plant but there was no time to tuck and roll. With no other alternative, I curved my legs downward and bent my knees, hoping to somehow land on my feet.

My right leg crunched on impact and I heard a pop. Somehow, I managed to kick off the sidewalk, tuck my head, and roll.

As I stood up again, my leg buckled underneath me. Gritting my teeth, I tried to run through the pain but came up limping. It didn’t feel broken. But that didn’t improve my mood.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. My lungs gasped for air but my throat refused to abide. Dimly, I became aware of a thin, wiry arm. It wrapped around my neck and started to squeeze the life out of me.

“Remember me?”

It took me a moment to place the harsh voice whispering into my ear. Then, I recalled the Town Car that picked me up at the airport.

“Walker?” I gasped.

“In the flesh.”

The driver? I escaped that hellhole only to get caught by Chase’s personal driver? That’s just embarrassing.

I struggled to escape. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Do you know how much trouble you got me in? I was just doing my job, minding my business. Next thing, I know you’re running away and I’m getting my ass reamed out.”

“It wasn’t…”

His arm muscle tightened. “Mr. Chase docked me a month’s pay for that little stunt of yours. Now, it’s your turn to suffer.”

I clawed at his arm but it didn’t budge. Blinking my eyes, I saw Chase, Standish, and several guards running toward me.