“Yes. It hit a power station a few minutes ago and it’s causing all kinds of problems,” the dispatcher explains.
My voice is shaky. “Are we in danger?”
“No, the tornado was minor. Unfortunately, it touched down long enough to cause damage at the power station.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Any idea how long we’ll be in here?”
“I’ll get people to you as soon as I can, but like I said, it may be a while,” the dispatcher says with sympathy. “We’re getting a lot of calls.”
I thank the dispatcher and hang up. Judging by the scowl on Drew’s face, he heard most of the conversation.
“This sucks,” I say as I click the internet icon on my phone. I want to look up information about the storm, but decide against it. I don’t want to waste any of my phone’s battery life.
I glance up at Drew and I’m dismayed by the expression on his face. His eyes are wild.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“We have to get out of here!”
He looks like a caged animal as he starts banging on the doors again. Every thud hammers my eardrums.
I reach my hand up and touch Drew’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. Help is on the way.”
Drew brushes my hand away and continues banging on the doors. Each bang echoing through our confined space.
“Please Drew. Calm down,” I beg him.
“No! I will not calm down!” he yells. “I’m trapped in this tiny box and I need to get the hell out of here!”
The veins in Drew’s neck strain as he pries the elevator doors open with his hands. He is able to move the doors a few inches, but the opening reveals nothing but thick metal plates and concrete.
I groan. “Figures. We’re in-between floors.”
Drew points above us. “Where’s that light coming from?”
I glance up. There are two inches of light at the top of the gap Drew created by opening the doors. “It’s the floor above us.”
“They have power. Why don’t we?” Drew asks.
“The light is probably coming from a window close to the elevator,” I speculate. “It’s too faint to be an overhead light.”
“Fuck!” Drew yells as he manages to open the doors a bit more.
“We can’t get out of here. There’s nothing behind these doors except solid wall. We have to wait for someone to come get us.”
Drew shines his cell phone light up toward the ceiling. We both spot a small trap door at the same time. After a few fruitless attempts at jumping up and smacking the door, Drew drops to his hands and knees.
“Stand on my back,” he demands.
I do as I’m told. At this point, I want out of the elevator as badly as he does. Drew’s about to blow a gasket and I don’t want anything to do with it.
My one hundred and twenty-five pounds don’t seem to bother Drew as I balance myself on his wide shoulders. I push as hard as I can on the trap door, but it won’t budge. I feel around for a handle, but there isn’t one. However, a small piece of metal catches my eye. I take my cell phone out of my back pocket and shine the light on it.
I give Drew the bad news. “I think it’s locked from the other side.”
“Shit!” Drew curses.
I only have one foot firmly on the ground when Drew stands up.
“Hey!” I exclaim as I stumble backwards. I hit my funny bone on the railing and howl in pain.
Drew is oblivious to my suffering. He kicks the elevator doors and I grimace when I see large dents in the metal. As the elevator rocks from Drew’s blows, I know I have to calm him down. There is no way I can physically stop him; he’s too strong for me. I have to come up with something else.
“Drew!” I yell, trying to catch his attention. “We aren’t that high up! Stop!”
Drew gives the door a swift kick in response.
“We dropped that guy off on the sixth floor, right? The one who was staring at you.”
“Yeah? So what?” Another hard kick connects and leaves a dent.
“We went down a few more floors before the elevator stopped,” I explain. “And look at this, the public can’t access the second and third floors from this elevator. See?” I point to the number panel. The “2” and “3” are missing. Tom told me once those floors are used by a government agency that has its own, separate elevator.
Drew glances at the panel, then back at me.
“We can see light above us, which is probably the fourth floor. My guess is we’re only three stories up.”
Drew raises an eyebrow. “Would you jump out of a third story window?”
“Well, no.”
“Exactly!” he exclaims before readying himself to kick the doors again.
“Wait!” I plead with him before he can cause more damage. I search my brain for something to say to calm Drew down. An article I read a few months ago comes to mind. “I read this article online that said if you want to survive in a falling elevator, you should lie flat on the floor.”
Drew narrows his eyes. “Really?”
I nod like a bobble head. “Yes! Lying flat distributes the impact across your body.”
“Do you think it works?” he asks.
“I don’t know. But it’s better than kicking the elevator so hard it breaks loose from the cables.”
Drew considers this. “Fine,” he sulks. “Let’s lay down.”
Oh my God. It worked!
Drew struggles to find a comfortable position for his massive body on the floor. Once he’s settled, I lay down between him and the back wall. I use my purse as a makeshift pillow and offer my zip-up hoodie to Drew for a pillow of his own.
“Thanks,” he mutters as he takes my pink sweatshirt from me.
A slither of light shines down from the ceiling where Drew exposed the outer wall. I don’t see any shadows pass. Everyone inside the building probably left, via the stairs, a long time ago.
I sigh. “I should have told the dispatcher you are in here with me.”
“Why?” Drew asks. His tone has calmed and he is no longer huffing and puffing like a rabid dog.
“The whole fire department would show up to get you out of here.”
Drew laughs. It’s a deep and warm sound. It makes me smile in the darkness. “You’re probably right.”
“Do you have a game tonight?”
I hear his hat rub against my sweatshirt as he shakes his head. “No. It’s an off day.”
“That’s good.”
I can’t think of anything else to say and Drew doesn’t try to make conversation. As we lay in the darkness, I find myself falling into an old habit – humming. My brother and Tiffany tease me because I hum before I go to sleep.
“What are you humming?” Drew inquires. He sounds tired.
I pause, embarrassed. “It’s a few songs strung together. My mom used to hum to me every night until I fell asleep. I’ll stop.”
“No, don’t. I like it,” Drew tells me.
“Okay,” I say, although I’m self-conscious.
I begin humming again and close my eyes. There’s no point in keeping them open – I can’t see anything anyway. I’m so close to Drew, I can feel the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing gets slower. His arm pushes against mine when he takes in a breath, and then falls away as he exhales.