Free Deadly Treatment by David McLeod Page B

stainless steel corridor.
    ‘Don’t panic — it’s all okay,’ Scott whispered. ‘Carry on, no one heard you, just don’t do that again.’ His voice had a sprinkle of humour in it; there was only one grill.
    Joshua wormed his way forward and stuck his head down through the hole where the grill had been. Slowly, he let his eyes run around the room in search of any sign of life; only the tiny red and green lights from various electrical devices broke the darkness. Once he was satisfied there was no impending danger, as he’d been instructed, he pulled twice on the rope to signal he was going in.
    With the rope taut, Joshua wriggled his shoulders through the hole and gravity did the rest; the rope around his waist controlled his descent towards the table top the grill had crashed onto. He landed softly and gave another couple of tugs on the rope to signal his arrival; immediately the rope went loose.
    Joshua let his legs dangle from the table as he unzipped his fanny pack and rooted around for a flashlight. As he removed it from the pouch, he flicked it on and started to run the beam around the room to get his bearings. He had landed facing the main office area with his back to the emergency exit and the wall of paper that was soon to be ignited. The room was a jumbled mess of desks and cabinets. The desks faced the main entrance as if eagerly awaiting any form of visitor, and almost all the filing cabinet drawers were open. Joshua lowered the beam of light downwards as it made its journey towards the side wall and on to its intended use to illuminate his way to the pile of paper at the rear exit.
    At first his brain didn’t compute what the light had flashed over as it cut through the darkness. It was only after he turned to face the kitchen area that the tiny bits of information grouped together in his brain to form an image of what was hidden under one of the desks — the form of a man.
    Fully expecting the man to burst from under the desk and grab him, Joshua literally threw himself off the table and cowered behind it, snapping off the light as he went. For what seemed like an age, he stayed there unmoving and holding his breath; nobody came. Surely it was a ruse; the man was obviously waiting for Joshua to show himself again; he was bound to be closer, poised, and ready. Joshua’s heart pounded loudly in his ears, but he still held his breath and didn’t dare move. Finally, with his lungs fit to burst, he exhaled and dove prostrate to the ground, scooping in another lung full of air as he went. Still no one grabbed him.
    Maybe he was mistaken; it must have been a trick of the light, or even his mind making an idiot out of him. If there was someone there, he would have been caught by now — wouldn’t he? Curiosity overtook his fear, and with his pulse almost back to normal, Joshua slowly got up, flicked the flashlight back on and tentatively shone it back towards the underside of the desk.
    The curled up body of a frail, bald man was floodlit by the beam, and again fear dropped its enveloping cape over Joshua. Even though his legs went weak, this time he didn’t run and hide; he let the image of the man sink in; he wanted him to make the first move so he could zag to the man’s zig. But the man remained still; his unblinking eyes just stared back along the beam of light.
    Carefully Joshua edged his way towards the man; although unsure whether it was a trap, he kept the light shining directly on the man’s face just in case. Suddenly, the man’s mouth dropped open and Joshua almost pissed his pants with fright.
    ‘Water,’ the man said, his voice faint and raspy.
    In spite of his racing pulse, Joshua kept saying I’m okay, I’m okay in his head as he looked over at the broken man whose frailty began to bolster his confidence.
    With his fear almost gone, Joshua obediently made his way to the kitchen. Using the flashlight, he found the faucet and a cup, which he half-filled with water and rushed back to