and the Fire and Ice tanks, and the water from the fountain wasn’t very cold. It wasn’t very cold, but it was still good. It was what he needed. He drank until he could drink no more, and then he put the mask back on and took the walkway to the office building.
There was a way out, of course. Most Nitko employees didn’t know about it, but there was a way out. How else could a hazmat team come and go in the case of a catastrophic spill? Of course there was a way out. How could there not be?
He opened the door to the main power closet and used a step stool to reach the steel panel in the ceiling. He loosened the four thumbscrews securing the panel to its frame, pulled it forward until its four tabs were aligned with their corresponding slots, lowered it with his hands, and threw it on the floor. He undid the Velcro straps holding the drop-down ladder in place, lowered the ladder, and climbed through the ceiling to the hatch in the roof. The hatch was wheel operated, like the watertight doors on a ship. K-Rad turned the wheel counterclockwise until the seal broke and the hatch swung open. He climbed out onto the roof. The sun was shockingly bright. He took the half-broken night-vision binoculars off and whizzed them like a Frisbee. He didn’t need them anymore. He kept the gas mask, just in case. He shinnied down a drainpipe, ran to his hole in the fence behind the diesel tank, got in his car, and drove away.
10:45 a.m.
Matt drove the forklift as fast as it would go. He’d covered about half the distance to Waterbase when the battery died. The lift rolled to a stop, and Matt got off and started limping toward the tanks. Every step shot blue spears of electric pain up his leg and into his spine. When he got close enough, he saw Shelly forty feet in the air, dangling from one of the water pipes near the ceiling. She was making her way, arm-over-arm, to one of the ventilation fans.
There was enough light shining through the opening for Matt to see her face, which looked like something exhumed from a graveyard.
Matt hobbled to one of the forklifts plugged in by the wall, unplugged the charging cable, put the lift in reverse, swung around, and knocked four empty drums off an oak pallet with the forks. He picked up the pallet, positioned the lift under where Shelly was hanging, and raised the platform. He wanted to knock her off the pipe and onto the pallet. Then he would lower the fork and deal with her on the ground. He had to stop her from leaving the plant. If she made it outside, there was no telling what she might do.
Except that people would die.
Shelly looked down and saw the pallet rising toward her. She was only a few feet from the fan now, and she sped up her actions.
“You’re too late,” she said.
The pallet was about two feet from her when she made it to the fan. She held on to the pipe with one hand and yanked the grate off with the other. The grate fell to the floor, and Shelly climbed into the opening. Matt rammed the wooden platform toward the fan, but Shelly was inside the cylindrical housing now and the pallet was too fat to reach her.
“Shelly, I want you to—”
“You want to fuck me as long as it’s convenient for you—then you want me to smile and wave good-bye when you’re tired of me,” Shelly said. “Too bad I don’t give a shit what you want. I’m going to do what I want for once.”
“And what’s that?”
“Your ax is in my car,” she said. “Maybe I’ll try chopping wood. Chopping something, anyway.”
She started laughing, an insane cackle Matt hadn’t heard before, and then she was gone.
But then he saw Mr. Dark sitting on one of the pipes, his feet dangling over the side, sipping his martini.
“Oh, yes, this is much more fun,” Mr. Dark said.
10:48 a.m.
K-Rad drove by his childhood home on the dirt road behind the plant. He stopped and put the car in park. He just wanted to look at his old house for a minute, to see it one last time. School
There was a way out, of course. Most Nitko employees didn’t know about it, but there was a way out. How else could a hazmat team come and go in the case of a catastrophic spill? Of course there was a way out. How could there not be?
He opened the door to the main power closet and used a step stool to reach the steel panel in the ceiling. He loosened the four thumbscrews securing the panel to its frame, pulled it forward until its four tabs were aligned with their corresponding slots, lowered it with his hands, and threw it on the floor. He undid the Velcro straps holding the drop-down ladder in place, lowered the ladder, and climbed through the ceiling to the hatch in the roof. The hatch was wheel operated, like the watertight doors on a ship. K-Rad turned the wheel counterclockwise until the seal broke and the hatch swung open. He climbed out onto the roof. The sun was shockingly bright. He took the half-broken night-vision binoculars off and whizzed them like a Frisbee. He didn’t need them anymore. He kept the gas mask, just in case. He shinnied down a drainpipe, ran to his hole in the fence behind the diesel tank, got in his car, and drove away.
10:45 a.m.
Matt drove the forklift as fast as it would go. He’d covered about half the distance to Waterbase when the battery died. The lift rolled to a stop, and Matt got off and started limping toward the tanks. Every step shot blue spears of electric pain up his leg and into his spine. When he got close enough, he saw Shelly forty feet in the air, dangling from one of the water pipes near the ceiling. She was making her way, arm-over-arm, to one of the ventilation fans.
There was enough light shining through the opening for Matt to see her face, which looked like something exhumed from a graveyard.
Matt hobbled to one of the forklifts plugged in by the wall, unplugged the charging cable, put the lift in reverse, swung around, and knocked four empty drums off an oak pallet with the forks. He picked up the pallet, positioned the lift under where Shelly was hanging, and raised the platform. He wanted to knock her off the pipe and onto the pallet. Then he would lower the fork and deal with her on the ground. He had to stop her from leaving the plant. If she made it outside, there was no telling what she might do.
Except that people would die.
Shelly looked down and saw the pallet rising toward her. She was only a few feet from the fan now, and she sped up her actions.
“You’re too late,” she said.
The pallet was about two feet from her when she made it to the fan. She held on to the pipe with one hand and yanked the grate off with the other. The grate fell to the floor, and Shelly climbed into the opening. Matt rammed the wooden platform toward the fan, but Shelly was inside the cylindrical housing now and the pallet was too fat to reach her.
“Shelly, I want you to—”
“You want to fuck me as long as it’s convenient for you—then you want me to smile and wave good-bye when you’re tired of me,” Shelly said. “Too bad I don’t give a shit what you want. I’m going to do what I want for once.”
“And what’s that?”
“Your ax is in my car,” she said. “Maybe I’ll try chopping wood. Chopping something, anyway.”
She started laughing, an insane cackle Matt hadn’t heard before, and then she was gone.
But then he saw Mr. Dark sitting on one of the pipes, his feet dangling over the side, sipping his martini.
“Oh, yes, this is much more fun,” Mr. Dark said.
10:48 a.m.
K-Rad drove by his childhood home on the dirt road behind the plant. He stopped and put the car in park. He just wanted to look at his old house for a minute, to see it one last time. School
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