Chapter 4
The mechanical whine escalated into a piercing, rhythmic drone that set Julian’s teeth on edge. The bright overhead fluorescent lights flickered once, twice, and then shifted from a clean clinical white to a harsh, throbbing amber glow. The entire atmosphere of the grand hallway transformed from a corporate foyer into a subterranean bunker.
Clara gasped, pressing her hands against her head as the sudden noise amplified the throbbing pain of her concussion. "The containment shutters," she cried out over the din, her voice laced with genuine terror. "They're sealing the lower levels. They're going to bury us down here."
Julian looked up at the stairs, but Walter was already gone, disappearing into the upper shadows as the heavy steel fire doors at the top of the landing slammed shut with a thunderous metallic crash. Julian lunged forward, grabbing the brass handle of the upper door and throwing his weight against it, but it was completely immovable, locked from the outside by a failsafe hydraulic mechanism.
"Walter!" Julian hammered his palm against the thick steel. "Open this door! You can't trap us here!"
There was no reply except for the dull, distant sound of pneumatic bolts sliding into place all around the perimeter of the wing. Julian turned back toward Clara. The situation was deteriorating with terrifying speed. The yellow oil puddle was expanding, bubbling slightly as it reacted with the drop in ambient air pressure caused by the ventilation shutdown.
"Can you stand?" Julian asked, dropping to his knees beside her again and sliding his hands carefully beneath her arms, avoiding her injured wrist.
"My leg... I think my ankle is fractured," Clara whimpered, biting her lower lip hard enough to draw a thin line of crimson. "Julian, leave me. If the coolant vaporizes when the heat kicks on, this whole corridor is going to become a gas chamber. You have to find the manual override panel in the maintenance bay."
"I'm not leaving you here," Julian said firmly, lifting her carefully despite her protests. He grunted under the weight, his tailored suit jacket pulling tightly across his shoulders as he hoisted her into a bridal carry.
May you like
She was lighter than he expected, but her pain was evident in the way she buried her face against his chest to muffle a cry. Julian staggered backward, avoiding the spreading pool of toxic oil, and carried her toward the heavy double doors at the opposite end of the hallway—the emergency exit leading to the subterranean loading dock.
He reached the push-bar, slammed his hip against it, and shoved. The door groaned, shifted an inch, and then jammed hard against a steel wedge dropped into the external track. They were completely trapped between two locked bulkheads.
