IGMS Issue 49 by IGMS

Author:IGMS [IGMS]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Hatrack River Enterprises
Published: 2016-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Graham's signature followed.

An air-shattering crack sounded from the front corner of the roof. Graham ducked as a spray of sparks fell past the windows. His screen flicked off, and with a whump like the building giving a massive shrug, the power shut down.

Graham blew on his middle finger to try to quell the pain. Under the broken nail, the bone felt fractured. He bit down on a Sharpie and wound packing tape around the joint. After Ed severed the electricity, the elevator doors had banged open on every floor. Graham couldn't tell if it was a safety default of the old building or something else, but he wasn't about to lose the chance to get out. He considered the unbolted paper cutter blade. What could he use it for? He knew exactly what, if it came down to it. Bring it. You don't have to use it. He shook his head in aversion, but threaded the handle through his belt loop all the same.

Fighting a bout of hunger and nausea that turned the floor to liquid under his feet, he stuffed his phone in his pocket and lurched to the shaft.

Dim light glimmered from the warehouse opening above. Of course. The bastard had a day's worth of solar power up there. Well, let him enjoy it for the few hours he had before Graham escaped and called the cops. Graham leaned forward, caught the elevator cable in his hand, and swung out. His finger flared under the pressure as he let himself down hand over hand, conscious every moment of the elevator's bulk suspended over him. He dropped the last few feet to the bottom of the shaft and clambered into the ground-floor vestibule.

A glint of metal on the floor caught his eye. Without even approaching it, he recognized it as the head of Ed's front door key. The stem, he knew, would be twisted off in the lock. Through the door's four-inch window, he found the building's power line, not outlined against the starry sky, but on the ground.

Clenching his jaw, Graham left the vestibule and felt his way between the dark lumps of machinery to the trap door. The rope and pulley would hold his weight. He'd slide down and swim to the bank.

Graham swore as his fingers found a shiny padlock latching the grate closed. None of the scrap pipe nearby fit in the steel loop to give him leverage.

He sank back on his heels, disgusted with the futility of his hands. From the new vantage point, an unfamiliar, dropcloth-covered mound in the corner caught his attention. He drew aside the filthy shroud, finding a bank of solar batteries, joined by cables. Ed's new power source, probably bought with the money from the sale of the truck. My truck, Graham thought.

Somewhere up in the warehouse, Ed operated his cell signal blocker. A signal blocker requiring power. Graham looked at the batteries in front of him. He picked up a length of pipe, weighing it in his hands. Had Ed really left himself so open? He knows how toxic they are, he thought.

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