Free Quantum Poppers by Matthew Reeve

the same match again,’ he mumbled to himself. He swiped into the lobby
and headed for the lifts. Others came and went about their day as John pressed
the green halo-ed button to call it. With a ping the door opened and inside
stood a man who seemed to be hanging up on a mobile phone. A very old and
large model , thought John.
    ‘Going up?’ The
man asked and stood back for John to enter. He muttered thanks and turned to
press the button for the 34th floor.
    ‘Allow me,’
said the man and without being told which floor John was heading for pressed
the 34th button. ‘Hell of a day out there, gonna get worse too.’
    John gave a
non-committal grunt and looked up to the digital display rising before him. It
was painfully slow and they were only now passing the 10th floor when the man
reached out. His hand was gloved and John tensed in anticipation of an attack.
The hand didn’t make contact but a dull electricity pulsed through him. The man
had got out his dated mobile phone, punched buttons in and in a flash of white the
elevator and all around him disappeared. All sounds departed as though John’s
head had been submerged within a pool of water.
    John shook
himself free of the sensation as a sense of elevation shot through him. His
vision was blurred but it focussed on the increasing numbers above him which
had jumped to thirty-two. He took a deep breath to regain composure and was
overwhelmed by the thick caffeine and nicotine flavour within his mouth. He
coughed, almost wanting to vomit. The lift stopped and behind him the door
opened.
    ‘What the hell
is going on?’ John, still stunned, turned from the man in the lift to see the
corridor ahead of him. Within it stood three people: one in a grey mac holding
his own dated phone (whoever these people were they were well behind the
technological times), a woman of about thirty with hair so tightly bound to her
skull John had thought she was bald, and between the two stood…
    It couldn’t be.
He had forgotten about the man in the lift and took a step back, something
which had helped the visitors’ next move. The third man was pushed back by his
flankers as John was grabbed by the man behind him and pulled into the lift.
The other two ran in after them as the doors slid shut and they began to
descend. The three people held on tight to his shifting body. Like a captured
animal he screamed and fought against his captors but they held surprisingly
firm, especially the woman who forced him down to his knees as one of the men
held his arm almost to breaking point behind his back. The numb feeling of
electricity was now well and truly replaced with a sharp pain only physical
force could adhere. The downward journey seemed to take forever, his endless
thrashing and calls for an explanation going unheard and ignored.
    Finally the
ground floor was reached and the doors opened. With his arm still held behind
his back he was pushed out into the lobby by the woman and the initial man from
the lift. Ahead of them walked the other, as if the kerfuffle behind him was a
normal sight. The lobby was populated by Alan and one other worker whom John
didn’t recognise, both of whom stood back in panic rather than moving into
action to save John.
    ‘What’s going
on?’ shouted Alan.
    ‘Just go about
your business,’ said the man leading the way as John struggled to stand and was
virtually dragged on his knees towards the door.
    ‘Call the
police, anyone. I’m being kidnapped,’ John screamed. He kicked at his captors
but their grasp did not falter and the automatic doors opened welcomingly for
the four of them to leave. A car, black and large stood at the end of the
building’s entryway, panther-like, it’s engine purring, ready to flee. The
backdoor flew open, seemingly of its own accord, and with little effort John
was forced inside.
    As the car
pulled away with John kicking at the windows his thoughts rested upon the other
man he had seen upstairs. An all too familiar