Free Plot Line by Alton Gansky

his mind to settle and his body to behave, but
they would not listen. With one hand holding onto a series of metal
conduits near his head, the tortured scientist clutched at his
hair.
    “Go away,” he whispered. “Oh, please go
away. You don’t need me. You don’t want me.”
    The burning in his brain continued.
    “Must escape.” He willed his tremulous legs
to take another step. He was less than five meters from the
elevator shaft. Just six normal steps away, but his steps weren’t
normal. Every movement required that he ignore the blaze in his
brain and the pain in his muscles long enough to lift his foot. If
he could make it there, then he stood a chance. He doubted he would
have enough strength to climb the emergency ladder one floor, let
alone eight, but he had to try. The die was now cast; there would
be no turning back, no reversing the course he charted. If he could
get in the elevator shaft, he could find a place to rest. After a
few minutes of inactivity, he could start his ascent up the metal
ladder he knew was attached to the sidewall.
    The guards would never think of looking for
him there. No one in their right mind would hide in an elevator
shaft. They would assume it was too dangerous. Most people think
the elevator cab fills the whole shaft like a piston fills a
cylinder, but Colin knew how wrong the assumption was. His father
had worked for one of the largest elevator manufactures in the
country, and Colin had worked summers for the firm, traveling with
repairmen to fix problems, replace parts, or perform simple
maintenance. There was plenty of room on two sides of the shaft.
Builders often ran conduit and pipes in the passage. Even with the
elevator operating a man could stand inside—if he were
knowledgeable and careful enough.
    One step. Pain . Two steps. Burning . Three
steps. Nausea .
    Colin pushed on, pausing between steps to
suck in dry cavern air. His jaw ached from holding the flashlight
with his teeth. More sweat trickled into his irritated eyes.
    There was a sound, a familiar sound. Colin
froze. The elevator was descending. A moment of hope flickered in
the darkness of his despair. If he could get to the shaft after the
elevator had finished its descent, then maybe he could quietly step
on the roof of the cab. Once there he could wait until someone took
the elevator to the top. It might be hours before that happened,
maybe even a full day, but he could wait. He could gather his
strength, calm himself. It was too much to hope for, but it was the
best hope he had.
    The fire in his brain raged.
     
    Another uniformed guard, thinner than the first but with broad shoulders
and thick arms, waited for Devlin when the elevator doors
separated.
    “Sir, the general wants to see you at the
lab immediately,” the soldier said.
    “Is there a problem?” Ray saw Devlin
tense.
    “I wouldn’t know, sir. My orders are to
escort you to the lab.”
    Devlin nodded at Ray. “Mr. Beeman is not
cleared for that area of the base.”
    The sentry looked from one man to the other,
clearly in a quandary. If he followed his orders to the letter, he
would escort Devlin to the lab, but would leave Ray
unattended—something not acceptable in a secured base. After a
moment of thought, he removed a small radio from his belt and spoke
into it. A line ran from the radio to the guard’s ear. He touched
the earpiece as he listened. Then he spoke: “I’m to stay here with
Mr. Beeman. You’re to proceed immediately to the laboratory.”
    Devlin nodded then said to Ray. “You stay
here. I won’t be long. When I get back, we can get to work.”
    Ray watched as Devlin marched away.
     
    Voices . At
first, Colin thought they were in his head like the others, but
these were real, audible and played in his ears, not just in his
brain. It made sense. The elevator had just arrived. People would
be on the elevator. Of course there would be voices. Colin
chastised himself for his failing logic. Thinking was more
difficult.