Catalyst (Book 1): Decay Chains Read Free Page A

ridiculously unhelpful in this situation. No mention of what to do when help was dead and murderers had taken over the tower, whatsoever. She searched for the maintenance panel and found it four feet above her head. Out of ideas, she slid down the side of the elevator until she hit the cool tile floor. She avoided thinking about how small her trap was or how long it would take for someone to come looking for her.
    Five minutes after the elevator became a prison, the one beside it launched up, and then hurtled back down. At first, she thought her elevator was about to nosedive into the ground, and then she realized the creaking metal sounds were coming from next to her, not above or below. She banged on the elevator again and called out, but heard nothing in return. A few minutes after that, the third elevator made noises like metal scraping against itself, until it banged to a stop. Stormy collapsed in her trap and wondered how many people were in identical confines on her left and right sides and what floors they were stuck in-between.
    The overhead lights flickered in and out. Emergency lights glowed to life and buzzed the minutes away. They cast an amber hue, but only in thin streams across the elevator, neither of which hit her directly. An incessant chirping counted down the passing minutes. She swore she heard screaming, but the chirping drowned out everything else. The alarm was mid-screech when it cut off and beams from the overhead fluorescents shone once again on her confines. Those two minutes of darkness were almost as devastating as the five they followed.
    Two popping noises broke the silence. They sounded like fireworks going off. Something clicked on and hummed as it came alive. A whooshing noise surrounded the elevator, but no air moved within her copper hold.
    She remembered Bitchface mentioning masks. Was she talking about gas masks? Before Stormy had thought she meant hockey masks or rubbery clown faces, or whatever liquor store robbers preferred. She squinted at the air vent above her. Another pop went off. She leapt in front of the vent and waved her hand before it. No air circled. Nothing stirred. The hospital was well ventilated though and that meant Matt was breathing in whatever she heard whooshing around on the floors above and below her.
    Her watch ticked off twenty-two minutes inside the elevator. The whooshing sound subsided promptly on minute seven. The overhead lights gave out again, this time for good. She jumped when she heard the first bang and was still mid air for the second. Metal pulled apart from metal and creaked in protest. She braced herself against the walls and waited for the elevator to careen down into the parking garage. Maybe it won’t hurt. I won’t feel a thing. She shook so much her gun tapped against the wall.
    The light was thin at first. The elevator doors split and welcomed her to the second floor, which was backlit by a wall of sun-filled windows. A set of arms dragged the doors apart, offering about two feet of freedom long ways. She could work with that. A savior, draped in shadows, reached down to rescue her. Stormy stepped forward.
    “Right here.” She reached up toward the light and her savior’s waving arms. “Please, down here.”
    She tugged on the tattered sleeve of the arm closest to her until it grabbed her back, hard.
    A primal scream poured out of her lungs as she beat at the arm, but she couldn’t free herself. Her screams were met with more screams and other unforgettable sounds. Heels raced across tile, bodies fell over themselves, and heavy objects crashed to the ground creating a symphony that streamed into the elevator.
    She turned around on herself as she tried to shake loose. Her captor’s flesh felt mushy between her fingers. Sticky patches of skin met her fingertips as they dug in, looking for a place to settle and resist. Stormy smelled scorched flesh for the very first time.
    Freedom evaded her. She kicked nothing but innocent air as her