She swallowed her fear. This would be quite a connection, wouldn’t it, between her other world and this one?
She swallowed her fear again. How could he be mad at her? It wasn’t her fault.
She went in quietly, ducking around the privacy screen and calling in a polite tone, “Hello? Mr. Myers?”
“Hello?” he answered, and she might have recognized the voice. Sounds were different between the two worlds.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, who’s there?”
She ventured farther into the room and could see the foot of his bed protruding around the corner. “Uh, it’s just me, Mandy, coming to say hello … I think.”
“Mandy?”
She came past the corner …
Oh, my.It was he, the painter, shoulders in a brace, wearing … wow, it looked so much like the gown she had at the fair that day. By the pale, horrified look that came over his face and the way the ice rattled in the water glass he was holding, she figured he recognized her. “You!”
She gave him a shy, apologetic wave. “Hi.”
“You—you’re Tinkerbell, the pink girl!”
“And you’re Ernie the painter, right?”
His hand went to his call button, and he pressed it like he was reporting a fire.
“I’m sorry about what happened. I hope I didn’t do this.”
“You diddo this!” He almost couldn’t say it, he was gasping so hard. “What are you doing here, you some kind of ghost?”
Oh, man, this was going south in a hurry. “No, no, I’m not a ghost, I’m real. Here, feel my hand—”
“Yahh!”He shied back, which made his injuries hurt, which made him yell in pain. “You get away from me! Get away!”
There was going to be trouble, no way around it.
“Well,” she said, backing out of the room, “I just wanted to say hello. Sorry if I hurt you.”
He was still hollering. “ Nurse!Somebody, help!”
She got out of there.
Where now?Away from the nurses’ station, down the other hallway, back to the elevators—
“Miss!” said a voice. “Excuse me?”
It was a nurse hurrying down the hall. Ernie was still hollering for help.
“Were you bothering that patient?” the nurse demanded.
The nurse was getting close enough to grab her. Mandy thought of smiling, denying, walking away …
She ran—in kitten-heel sandals. The nurse was in sneakers; she was going to win.
“Oh, no you don’t! Stop! Stop right there!”
Mandy gave it her best and it was an all-out chase for several yards until the nurse turned back, probably to check on the patient. “Stop her! Where’s Bill? Call security!”
Mandy clumped, clopped, hobbled, and hopped out of her sandals and took the first right, hoping to circle back to the elevators, but now the alarm was spreading; other sneakers were pitter-pattering in the halls, voices were shouting—but not too loudly. They would hem her in soon enough. Forget the elevators, they’d head her off there.
She found the stairs—right where they’d always been—and took them, bounding down two and three steps at a time, sandals in her hand, to the main floor. She opened the stairway door a crack, made sure the hallway was empty, then stepped into the hallway looking for an EXIT sign. No problem; there was one down the hall to the left. Time to say good-bye to this place. She scurried toward the sign, passed an unmarked elevator …
Stopped. She knew this elevator. She’d been in it, rode it down, down, she didn’t know how far down. There was no button on the wall to press, just an electronic keypad with a card slot.
Somebody was making very good time coming down the stairs.
Could she … ?
She placed her hand on the closed elevator door, closed her eyes, thought of so many visions she’d had of this elevator …
Bill, male nurse, along with Tyler the security guy, thought they saw someone through the window of the stairway door, but by the time they burst into the hall there was no one there.
Bad move, very bad move! The moment her feet left solid ground and she went in-between, something sucked her through the elevator door and she tumbled down the shaft like a particle in a vacuum hose, flailing and groping for control but finding none. At the bottom she made a dizzying, pretzel-bodied ninety-degree turn and shot into another hallway like a leaf from a downspout, afloat above the floor. She groped for the floor to stop herself; the floor rushed around her hand like water. She reached for the wall—her hand passed right through it. She was rushing down the hall in an invisible current, spinning in unseen vortices. One of her other hands, one that might be in this place, contacted the wall …
She landed on the floor with a bump, bruising a knee, banging a hip and an elbow, sliding to a stop on the tile. Clunk-clunk! Her sandals came to rest not far from her. She felt nauseated.
But she made it. She’d seen this hallway before. She remembered the quiet rush of the ventilation system, the hum of the lights, the cool, hard tiles under her, and the hallway’s distinguishing feature, the steel double doors that spanned it just a few yards away. On the wall was a blinking keypad for admittance, and painted across the doors in bold red letters were the words AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
“Well, hi there!” she said.
So she and those doors were meeting in the real world at long last.
She rose wearily from the floor, straightened her dress, and slipped into her sandals. She walked to the doors, extended a tentative hand, and touched them. For the very first instant she wondered if she might try to pass through them, but recent experience killed that idea. As she’d just found out, going in-between in this place was like parachuting into a thunderstorm. Besides that …
Something on the other side of those doors had such power as to send terror through the steel, and she could feel it. She, or part of her, or one of her, had been inside and brought back the memory of electric hums in windowless chambers, senseless numbers blinking and sourceless voices muttering in the dark, the stench of singed hair, the red glow of fire … the half-open eyes of monkeys as they ignited in flames.
She backed away, scared to the point of shaking, remembering how those doors had once sucked her in. Even now, in the solid, real world below Clark County Medical Center, she could feel them pulling, drawing, tempting her. No. She could never go there again.
Did a person need a clearance card to get out of here? The elevator had no keypad or card slot, just a button. She pressed it, then wondered what she’d do if someone else rode the elevator down and they ran into each other.
The steel doors began to open!
The stairway door, behind her! She ducked through it and crouched against the wall. She heard two voices in the hall.
“Where’s Kessler?” said one.
“We’ve paged her. But the subject took the stairs and then security lost her.”
“She’s probably long gone by now.”
“Wouldn’t that be better?”
The elevator dinged. She looked through the door window in time to see two doctors—at least they were wearing white coats—get into the elevator.
Before the big steel doors swung shut she caught a glimpse of a dark hallway bathed in hellish red light.
Well, this was quite enough for one day. She hurried up the stairs, one flight, two flights, three, four. She reached a landing with a door and went through.
Oh, wow, main floor, back in the hallways. A sign on the wall directed her toward the lobby, and she went back the way she came. A left turn at the next intersection should take her past the gift shop, then to the lobby and out of there. She reached the intersection, turned left—
And almost collided with a lady doctor, her sandals squeaking on the floor as she braked and almost toppled.
Try to bluff?“Oh, sorry, excuse me.” Smile, try to pass by—