Free Senshi (A Katana Novel) by Cole Gibsen

continued to rise, jerking its way up at half its normal speed. When the digital twelve flashed on the screen, I thought my trip was over. The door chime dinged my arrival, but, after waiting several moments, I realized the door wasn’t opening.
    “Seriously?” I hit the door with my hand and immediately regretted the action when something squealed overhead. I crouched down just as the lights flickered once and then left me alone in the dark.
    “What the—?” But I didn’t have time to finish. The elevator shrieked—a horrible sound that pierced my eardrums like a knife. It dropped a foot before jerking to a stop. My hands fumbled in the dark until they found the metal handrail. Something above me—either the cable or the brakes—groaned and I tightened my grip on the rail right before the elevator shuddered and fell several feet.
    “Son of hibachi!” Alone in the dark, I could almost hear the rush of blood pounding beneath my temples. What the hell was going on?
    As if reading my mind, the digital twelve disappeared from the screen, followed by the scrolling words, Hello Rileigh. How does it feel to know you’re about to die?
    I sucked in a breath as a chill descended my spine on spindly insect legs. No matter how hard I tried or how many times I blinked, my brain refused to decipher the words on the screen. It was too crazy to make sense. Obviously elevators didn’t try to kill people all on their own. Someone had to be controlling it, someone who wanted me dead.
    The answer slammed into me with enough force to sway my body. Whitley! He had to be the one behind this. Somehow he had escaped the fire and now he was back for revenge. It made sense. Why else did the ninja only attack me? He had a score to settle. I whirled around in the dark, as if he might appear next to me. But of course he didn’t. Which— duh, Rileigh— made sense because I was about to plummet to my death.
    The floor lurched under my feet and the elevator began to ascend much faster than normal. I struggled to swallow past the lump wedged inside my throat. I so did not have a good feeling about this.
    The screen flashed as more words scrolled across. They don’t make elevators like they used to, the scrolled words told me. You can’t just cut a few cables and expect them to fall to the ground. They have built-in brakes that prevent that from happening. But many modern elevators have computers. Like this one. And computers can be hacked.
    Fan-freaking-tastic. The cables whirled as the elevator rose faster than should have been possible. I couldn’t even be sure what floors I’d passed, only that I’d heard more than a dozen dings. I had to do something quick—but what? I could barely operate the cable remote let alone figure out how to deprogram a hacked elevator.
    My heart thrummed inside my head, the sound spilling out of my ears and echoing off the walls. My eyes gradually adjusted to the red glow projected from the digital numbers. But it wasn’t an improvement. All it did was make me aware of how tight a space I was trapped in, and the last thing I wanted was to die inside this metal coffin.
    The elevator squealed and began to slow. I had a feeling I was nearing the twenty-fifth floor and after that—well, I didn’t know but it couldn’t be good.
    I felt my way to the corner of the elevator and used the two walls as leverage to get a leg up on the handrail. Carefully, I stood on the rail, one foot balanced against either corner and felt my way along the ceiling like I’d seen done in so many movies. There had to be a trap door of some sort.
    Fingering the smooth metal ceiling, my fingers grazed the lip of a door. Success! I pushed against the trap door. It didn’t budge. “Perfect,” I muttered.
    The elevator dinged and came to a halt. I pounded against the door. That’s when the edge of my palm came in contact with something sharp.
    Hissing in pain, I jerked my hand back for just a second before reaching out and brushing