Free Frantic by Jerry B. Jenkins

their wings and a weird chant of some sort.”
    The sound man for the reporter dropped his equipment and ran, only to be attacked and stung. His cries mingled with the wails of the reporter who also dropped his microphone.
    The chilling report brought back the moment Lionel had first seen the locusts. As he flipped to another frequency, he noticed guards talking on radios and scurrying to the visitor entrance.
    Lionel flipped off the radio and muttered, “This doesn’t look good.”
    He pulled the car close to the building, parked behind a Dumpster, and got out. Locusts buzzed near closed windows. He walked close and heard the security alarm. Judd and Sam must be in trouble, Lionel thought.
    He tried the visitor entrance but it was locked. A guard inside waved him away. Lionel nodded and walked around the corner. He saw a delivery truck parked near a service entrance. Lionel recognized the logo. It was a laundry truck.
    The back of the truck was open, but there was no one inside. Lionel guessed it had been there since the locust attack. Lionel noticed a ring of keys on the ground.
    Somebody was in a hurry to get out of here , Lionel thought. He picked up the keys and climbed onto the loading dock. Two doors. A huge one that rolled like a garage door and another smaller one to the side. Lionel fumbled with the keys. If he could find the right key, he might be able to help his friends.

    Judd and Sam had tied several sheets together when the guard from the parking garage returned. “There’s no one in there.”
    â€œWe have the place locked down,” the other man said. “We’ll find them.”
    The guard tried the door to the closet. Judd dived behind the hamper.
    â€œThis is locked; they couldn’t have gotten in here,” the guard said.
    When the two walked away, Judd tied the end of the last sheet around Sam’s waist. “You’re going for a little ride.”
    â€œOut the window?” Sam said.
    Judd shook his head and walked to a small metal door on the wall. “Down here.”
    â€œThe laundry chute!” Sam said. “Perfect.”
    â€œI’ll lower you slowly and you can tell me what you find,” Judd said. “Tug it once if things are clear. Tug twice if you want me to pull you up.”
    â€œGot it,” Sam said. He climbed inside the chute and tried to walk on the metal tunnel. His footsteps echoed.
    Judd shook his head again. “Don’t walk. I’ll lower you.”
    Judd hoped the sheets would be long enough. He lowered Sam inches at a time, making sure the knots they had tied didn’t come loose.
    â€œThere’s a curve at the bottom,” Sam whispered from below. “I can’t see anything down here, but I don’t hear anything either.”
    Footsteps in the hall. Keys jangling. Someone said, “What’s this door?”
    â€œIt’s the fourth-floor laundry,” a woman said. “We usually keep it unlocked because—”
    Sam slipped and banged against the side of the chute.
    â€œDid you hear that?” the man outside said. “Open this door. Now!”
    â€œLet go!” Judd said to Sam.
    Sam untied the sheet from his waist and slid out of sight with a thump. Judd quickly tied the end of the sheet to the handle on the chute door and climbed inside. The door closed and it was pitch-dark. Judd slid down, holding the sheets to steady himself. The door to the room burst open. Moments later he felt something tugging. Light from above. A man stuck his head inside. “He’s going down the laundry chute!”
    The click of a knife. Ripping. The guard was cutting the sheet on the handle. Judd fell and hit the curve in the chute with a terrific crash. Still holding on to the sheet, he flew into a huge hamper and landed in a soft pile of linens. Sam held out a hand. “We don’t have much time.”
    A radio crackled. “They’re in the first-floor laundry