She wouldn’t die.
CHAPTER THREE
Jack scanned the elevator shaft as quickly as he could, finding at least one piece of good fortune.
The shaft was pitch-dark, but using the woman’s cell phone, he’d spotted a network of ladders along the shaft wall.
His way out.
He doubted the newer part of the building would have them, but in old buildings like this, those ladders probably ran the length of the shaft, and he could use them to get out.
What would face him when he did was another question altogether. One he wouldn’t think of now.
He spotted the ladder he would use, one that was on the opposite side of the elevator car, somewhere between the eighth and ninth floors if the numbers on the wall were to be believed. He would circle the concrete beam that surrounded the elevator car and then climb down.
Jack was preparing to move, his mind completely focused on the exit in front of him, when he spotted the cell phone and then the slender brown hand it was attached to.
In the entire time inside the elevator, the woman hadn’t let the thing go. And she’d been shocked, visibly so, when he had told her he didn’t have one.
To his mind, the things were more trouble than they were worth. Who wanted someone to be able to contact them at any time? And besides, in Jack’s mind, there was nothing in the outside world worth being connected to.
But, at least in this moment, he could see the value of it.
The bright phone gave him a more complete view of the elevator shaft. And after glancing at it quickly, he looked back toward the car.
His first instinct was to go to her and pull her out, but he pushed that down.
Something was happening, something that was no good at all. Jack couldn’t afford to get involved, and he wouldn’t let anyone to slow him down.
Still, it was difficult to do nothing, not after so many years—a lifetime really—spent training and fighting to protect people who couldn’t or wouldn’t do it themselves.
So he stood frozen, a rare moment of indecision keeping him in place.
To his surprise, the woman’s head soon emerged from the elevator. He could see her face was sweaty, her expression one of complete focus as she pulled herself out of the car.
The squeeze was a little tight around her hip area, but she soon made her way out and onto the roof. But rather than stop or look relieved, the woman looked around wildly, her eyes searching.
She spotted Jack where he stood on the concrete and made her way to him.
She wasn’t as silent as he had been, but she was impressively quiet and even more impressively quick.
She reached out with one foot, then the other, and then worked herself onto the narrow concrete beam and slumped against the wall.
And she still had that damn phone in her hand.
Jack could see her relief at being out of the car.
She had tried to put on a brave face, but even without whatever had been trying to get into the elevator, he knew that the darkness and the confined space was starting to get to her. Him too, but he had more practice at hiding it.
She didn’t, and he could see that she was relieved.
He didn’t know how to tell her that her relief was misplaced.
Her journey, whatever was going to be, had just begun. He knew that whoever had been trying to get into that elevator was just the beginning of their problems. And they still needed to get out of here.
He nudged her, finding some grim humor at the way she jumped and then clung to the wall.
She looked at him with riotous eyes, her, What the fuck? as unmistakable as it would be if she’d said it out loud.
Jack shrugged, the most of an apology he would dare offer, and then gestured toward the phone.
She looked at him, thinking, and then slowly handed it over.
Jack took it and then made note of the battery. Looked to be about three quarters full. Jack again found himself impressed.
From what he had observed, people were attached to the damn things, and if ever there were time they actually needed them, they were either dead or close to it.
Good on her for giving herself at least a small advantage. In the end, the cell phone wouldn’t mean much, not if the nagging worry that filled Jack’s gut was anything to go by. But it might help.
And it would definitely help now.
Jack extended his arm and then moved the phone around the shaft.
The new illuminated view confirmed what he had suspected.
Though he could barely see over the edge of the car, Jack knew that the ladder was the way down.
He handed her the phone her back and she nodded curtly.
Jack didn’t bother to return the expression and turned toward the car.
He went to take a step but was stopped by her hand on his arm. He looked back at her and met questioning eyes.
Jack paused, studied the woman’s face.
Before, she had been a little nervous, maybe impatient to get out of the elevator. But when she had heard that first crash, he had seen pure panic—panic that, if he hadn’t acted quickly, would have gotten them killed.
It seemed she had recovered.
There was worry in her eyes and fear, but she wasn’t mindless.
Despite his better instincts, Jack decided then he would help her down the shaft.
After that, she was on her own.
He nodded toward the ladder then pointed down.
She looked at him, looked toward the ladder, then finally, down.
He could see from her expression that she didn’t exactly like that idea, but after a moment she nodded.
Jack then began to slide around the edge of the elevator shaft.
This first part would be okay. The concrete ledge was unobstructed and provided a solid, if narrow, path around the car.
But once he reached the final edge, he’d have to navigate around the protruding concrete barrier. There was about four-foot gap between the ladder and the concrete pillar. He’d have to make a jump for it.
Easy peasy for him. For her, not so much.
As he slid along the wall, he paused long enough to look down, the light from the cell phone illuminating her. She wasn’t wearing heels, but the flat suede boots she wore wouldn’t give her any traction.
Not his problem he reminded himself.
He focused on moving ahead.
He reached the protruding barrier in less than two minutes, and the woman kept up with him step for step.
She tucked her phone in her pocket, leaving them in the darkness, but Jack had enough sense of the elevator shaft to know where they were.
“Light,” he whispered.
A second later, the cell phone light again lit the shaft, the glow weak, barely enough, but he would make do. Jack paused, looked from the ladder to the barrier and then back again.
And then he turned, keeping his chest flush against the concrete. He stuck one leg out, groping for the ladder. When his foot found the metal, he breathed a little sigh of relief and then quickly reached over and hooked his elbow on it, then dragged the rest of his body across.
Fortunately, the ladder seemed sturdy and didn’t give it all when he put his full weight on it.
He looked up, saw the three floors ahead, identical to the ones below.
For a moment, he considered going up but then quickly dismissed the idea.
He didn’t know what he’d find up there, just like he didn’t know what he’d find down. But at least if he went down, he’d have a better chance at finding a way out.
When he heard a sharp intake of breath, he looked around.
The woman stared at the gap for a few seconds then began unbuttoning her shirt. Jack watched as she tucked the phone between her breasts, forcing himself not to linger but impressed with her quick thinking.
Jack crawled down, put himself well under where she would make her landing, and then pressed himself flat against the ladder.