Shock

Shock by Francine Pascal Page A

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Authors: Francine Pascal
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squeezed out of her as her lungs fought for air. Then she was through, hanging in the dim light of the elevator shaft, peering across to see if she was right about the way through to the other building—the one where the travel agency was.
    There it was. A ventilation hole. She had to make it across the bottom of the elevator somehow. The ventilation system went along the ceiling of the room below, and if she plopped to the ground, she’d have a hell of a time getting back up.
    She hoped the grease of the cables hadn’t pervaded the metal bottom of the elevator car. It hadn’t—but the grime was so thick, it was almost as slippery. She had one chance to get across, and it hinged on one metal pipe attached to the elevator. She reached out and grabbed for the pipe.
    The dust made her hand slip right off. Her hand slid out into space, and she felt her left shoulder socket wrench with the effort of keeping her from falling.
    â€œHuugh,” she gasped, more from the pain and surprise than from any real concern that she’d fall. She had this under control. She just had to make it happen. And fast.
    â€œHello? What the hell is going on in here?”
    Uh-oh. Really fast. Earl was back on the scene, and if he started up that elevator…
    Gaia wiped the thick layer of dust off her hand and onto her jeans and reached for the pipe again. Not a great grip, but it was all she had, and as she swung across the bottom of the elevator, she felt herself slipping slightly.
    â€œEasy,” she told herself. No need to grab too hard.
    Gaia swung her legs across and tested the metal door of the ventilation hole. It was as old as the building—older than her father, probably—and it didn’t want to give.
    Gaia heard Earl come out of the landing on the second floor. He’d obviously taken the stairs up and was looking down into the empty elevator.
    â€œHello? Damn kids! Who’s down there?”
    She heard him swear a blue streak as he kicked at the elevator. It shuddered above her, making her already tenuous grasp feel even less secure.
    â€œDamn it,” she hissed.
    â€œWhat? Is somebody down there?”
    This was getting ridiculous. Gaia tightened her grip on the pipe. She heard Earl’s feet hit the floor of the elevator just above her, and it shuddered again. Earl was not light. The elevator shifted at least two inches lower and began to rock. She had to get into that ventilation crawl space— now .
    Gaia lifted her legs and kicked. Once. Twice. Three times. And then—“Jaah!” she yelled, feeling the metal door give as she gave it one last kick. The elevator shuddered again as she heard the machinery start up, high above her. With no time to waste she kicked the door out of the way and shoved her legs into the dark, musty tube. She pulled herself all the way in just as the elevator dropped past. A hunk of her hair got yanked along with it, and she grabbed at it, forcing it to break rather than pull her along its deadly track. Then she just breathed, feeling her racing heart, pumped full of adrenaline, try to return to normal.
    She assessed her surroundings. She could feel that she had just inches of steel through which she had to shimmy backward to reach anything close to the travel agency. Behind her she could hear the alarmed skittering steps of water bugs and maybe even a rat or two. Gross. Gross, but not life-threatening. She began her slow journey backward. “I must look really pretty right now,” she said to herself, feeling dust coat her skin as she pulled herself through it. But once she got started, she found herself making good progress—below her, through the slatted openings, she could see a hallway, and then, a few minutes later, the dim interior of the travel agency.
    Bingo.
    She held her face close to the thin opening, trying to see what was on the various desks below her. Ugh, it was no use. She jimmied her fingers under the edge of the

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