Superheroine - Chapter 3
They both glanced back at the door through which they'd entered. They would never cross the distance in time, let along be able to open it and exit.
"Get in there!" John hissed as he pointed to the opening in the base of the cylinder.
Beth didn't need any urging. She dropped to her hands and knees and scrambled into the opening. John dove in directly behind her. As they heard the door of the room open and footsteps enter, they eased themselves as far back into the opening as they could.
The footsteps drew closer. Beth was sure the pounding of her heart would give them away. She could feel John's presence near her but couldn't see him in the dark.
"Let's give this another try," a nasally male voice said from outside their hiding spot. "This one is heavy."
A shadow fell across the opening, and a set of hands came into view. Beth clamped her mouth closed, afraid she would let out a squeal or scream. A scraping noise came next, and Beth realized someone was sliding the metal panel into place. The dim light surrounding the opening disappeared completely, and she heard a click as magnets caught the metal and held the panel in place. She heard the creaking of screws as someone tightened the panel into place. She and John sat in darkness.
The air felt colder and Beth started to shiver even with her jacket on. John must have sensed her trembling because he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
The footsteps moved away from their hiding place, and moments later they heard the door open momentarily, before closing again. Beth strained to hear any indication that someone was nearby, but the room was silent.
The silence only lasted for a few seconds. Around them, in the base of the cylinder, a buzzing noise started. The sound reminded Beth of an alarm clock she used back in high school, but much louder. And unlike her alarm clock, she felt this one, to her very core. She covered her ears and winced, but the sound stopped as quickly as it had started.
No sooner had the buzzing stopped than a deep rumble sounded above them, as if it was coming from the cylinder. Beth's every instinct told her to kick the metal panel open and run, but she fought the urge. Someone could still be out there, watching.
John had been right. They shouldn't have come.
As the rumble intensified, the floor beneath them started to shake. Beth grabbed John's arm, and he put a hand over hers.
The rumbling reached a crescendo, and a burst of golden light filled the space below the cylinder. Beth felt a tingling sensation rush across her body, as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire. She looked down at herself and saw a golden glow surrounding her body. She glanced at John, and saw a glow around him, too. If a glow could be dirty, the one around him was. The glow appeared closer to a murky cloud surrounding his body than to any sort of halo of light.
The tingling in Beth's body intensified, and she gasped. It grew more and more intense as the rumbling strengthened, to the point she felt as if energy was going to burst from her body. The glow brightened, until the sound of a large crack, like a bolt of lightning, echoed around her. The glow dimmed, growing smaller until it only surrounded the diamond in her necklace, before flashing out entirely.
As the light disappeared so did the tingling in Beth's body. She and John were left in the darkness of their hiding place, with Beth gasping and John groaning. She fought back her own voice, trying not give away their hiding place.
Sitting in the darkness, she took stock of herself. Something was different. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt . . . changed. She felt alive and full of energy, and wanted nothing more than to burst from their hiding place and let out a scream of joy. But she didn't, instead remaining quiet and straining to hear what was transpiring out in the room.
After a few moments, the sound of footsteps returned. The footsteps approached their position, until Beth heard movement directly above them, inside the cylinder. Moments later the footsteps receded again, and she heard the door open and close. Silence surrounded them.
"We need to get out of here," John said with a groan. His voice trembled, as if he were struggling to marshal his words.
"Shhh!" Beth hissed and immediately regretted her tone. She reached out and touched John gently with a gloved hand. He moaned. What was wrong with him?
"Are you okay?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
"I don't know," he said, his voice cracking. "Something isn't right. I need to get out of here."
John scrabbled away from her toward the panel blocking their exit. He fumbled around its edges but couldn't find a way to move it aside. He raised a foot and kicked it. It didn't budge, but the sound of his kick reverberated like a hammer on an anvil in their tight quarters.
"Shhhh!" she hissed.
"Help me do this," he said.
"No!" she snapped.
He gave another kick, and the sound again echoed around them.
She gritted her teeth and shook her head. If he was going to give away their hiding space, they needed to get out of here fast. She shook her head, muttering, before moving up next to him and sitting with her legs facing the panel.
"On the count of three, kick with me," he said.
She sighed in resignation.
"One . . . Two . . ."
Beth's timing was off. A split second before John said "Three," and a split second before John kicked out with his legs, Beth lashed out with her own legs. The heels and soles of her boots struck the metal panel, ripping it from its screws and sending it across the room. Light spilled into their hiding place.
John looked over at her. His face was twisted in either pain or confusion, but there was something else there. Almost a lack of recognition, like he didn't know her.
"Adrenaline, I guess," she said with a shrug. "Let's get moving."
Beth peered out into the room and found it empty. She scrambled out of the opening and jumped to her feet. She reached a hand down to help John crawl out and to his feet. It was then that she saw his face. He was in agony.
"John, what's wrong?"
"I don't know. Maybe something I ate. Maybe my gall bladder or something. Let's get going."
Beth nodded. She took John by the hand and led him to the door through which they had entered the room. Opening it, they were greeted by the sight of three men at the opposite end of the hall, walking toward them. Beth froze.
"Hey!" the man in front yelled. All three men rushed forward.
John tugged Beth's hand and led her back into the room.
"Run!" John said, his voice tight with urgency or pain, or both.
Beth's first instinct was to stop, but she remembered John's worries about losing his job. She turned and followed him. He sprinted around the cylinder to the door on the opposite side of the room. She rushed to his side and swiped the card to the keypad, and flung the door open. John rushed through with Beth on his heels.
"Where are we going to go?" she asked. They were moving away from the back exit.
"We'll try to lose them in the building," John said, leading her down another long hall lined with doorways.
Beth sprinted behind him, glad she was able to run in the heels of her boots. She kept pace with ease, chalking it up to whatever ailment was affecting John. An intersection lay just ahead of them, and beyond it, the hall continued until it ended at a T junction. From the junction, two men wearing grey uniforms and badges appeared, guns in front of them.
"Halt!" the shorter of the two men shouted and raised his weapon. The tall, bearded man behind him raised his weapon as well.
John darted down the hall to the right. Beth followed, but not without protest. Another intersection approached.
"John, they have guns! This is serious. We need to stop."
"I can't get caught here. They won't shoot at — " he started to say, but his words were cut off by the sound of gunshots ripping through the air.
Beth shrieked as they turned the corner. Unbidden, thoughts rushed into her head of a cousin who had been shot and killed by a jealous boyfriend. She had sworn off guns after her cousin's death. Now, like her, Beth was going to be shot dead.
"Are you hit?" John asked, turning to her with a horrified look on his zombie face.
"No," she said. Or at least she didn't think so. With the adrenaline coursing through her body, she couldn't be sure.
"Good, then keep running."
Beth stayed alongside John, handing him the keycard as they ran. He was the one who knew where they were going.
The hall ended in another door, with a swipe pad next to it. John lifted the key card but dropped it. She saw his hands shaking. The two guards came around the corner as John bent to retrieve the card. Their guns were drawn, and they were too close to miss this time. Their eyes focused on Beth, who stood in front of John.
She couldn't imagine the two men would actually shoot them if they gave up now. Beth started to raise her hands. She thought she saw a look of wonder, or perhaps lust, in one of the guard's eyes. With her life at risk, she found it odd that she took time to consider how he was looking at her.
John was still behind her, fumbling with the key card.
"John!" she hissed, hoping the urgency in her voice would cause him to stop his efforts and surrender with her. There was no way they would get through the door in time.
Before she could get her hands all the way up, the guns flashed as loud cracks reverberated through the hall.
Beth winced and waited for the searing pain of the bullets striking home. Time seemed to slow, and thoughts rushed through her head, such as how their deaths would be explained.
But the pain never came. She opened her eyes to find the guards starting at her, confusion written across their faces.
The break in the shooting spurred John into action. He had finally opened the door. He tugged at her arm and pulled her through the doorway. The door clanged shut behind them. He led her to the stairwell, which ascended above them. He slung her in front of him and gave her a push.
"Run!" he yelled. She ran, flying up the stairs two at a time. As the stairs spiraled up, the sound of footsteps filled the stairwell below. She glanced down and saw the heads of the guards below them. At the same time, she noticed John falling behind. She paused to wait as she came to a landing with a door.
"Keep going up!" John urged, finally catching up. He was breathing heavy, and his face was twisted in pain. Had he been hit? Or was his illness getting worse? The sound of gunshots sounded again, below them this time. These people didn't mean to take them prisoner. They meant to kill them. She turned and ran up the stairs again.
When they reached the next landing, she had to wait for John again. When he caught up, he hissed, "Here!" and nodded toward a door on the landing.
She sprinted for the door, but it flung open toward her before she could reach it. Two more guards rushed into the stairwell. Beth had a full head of steam and couldn't stop in time, slamming into the guard in front. She got an arm up just in time to absorb the force of the collision. But she did more than just absorb the collision. Upon impact, the man flew backward as if shot from a cannon and barreled into the guard behind him. They both spun into the wall of the stairwell, hitting it with a thud.
Beth's instincts took over, and she ran through the open door, with John lurching behind her. They were in a hallway that ran to their left and right. Both directions were lined with doors every few yards.
"Left!" John called.
She started in that direction, slower this time so John could keep pace. When they passed the second doorway, he put a hand on her shoulder and guided her through it. They entered, closed the door behind them, and found themselves in a dimly lit office. John raised a finger to his lips. Moments later, footsteps passed by the door, out in the hall, before receding into the distance.
"Were you shot?" she asked him, scanning his body. With his zombie costume, it was hard to tell if he had been injured.
He shook his head.
"Just feeling sicker. Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident even through the makeup and pain on his face. "I thought you were the one that was shot."
His voice cracked as he spoke, and his eyes scanned her up and down.
"I guess they missed," she replied. "A miracle."
She waited for him to speak, but she saw his eyes focusing on her torso. His face was twisted in horror. She looked down and saw what caught his attention. Six holes peppered the front of her coat. John ripped at the front of the garment, fumbling with the buttons and opening it.
Three flattened bullet slugs had been trapped within the jacket and fell to the ground, clinking off the tile floor. Beth's jaw dropped and she looked down at the front of her costume, expecting to see blood. But the blue material was pristine and unblemished.
John looked up at her, his face contorted in confusion. She met his eyes, raised her eyebrows, and shrugged. She was just as stunned as he was.
"What the . . . " he muttered.
"John, we can talk about this later. We have to get out of here first."
She said the words with confidence, taking charge of the situation in a way that surprised even her. It was as if overcoming the killing power of a gun had given her inner strength. She moved to the door and opened it slowly. She looked left and right, but the hall looked empty.
"What's the quickest way out of here?" she asked over her shoulder.
"To the left, past the stairwell we came up, toward the end of the hall. There's a spiral staircase going down to the lobby, where there are a few exits. The stairs are being worked on, but we can duck under the yellow tape."
"Stay behind me," she said.
"Let me — " he began, but she cut him off.
"John, you're in no shape. Let me take the lead from here on out."
He didn't argue. She stalked down the hall, listening and watching for any visitors. Her slow pace allowed John to stay with her. They passed the door to the stairwell and continued. After a few more steps she saw the top of the spiral staircase, ahead and to their left. Yellow caution tape stretched across the top of it.
Just as they stepped toward it, the stairwell door opened behind them. Two different guards stepped out, saw them, and ran at them.
"Go!" Beth shouted to John. She grabbed his arm and yanked him past her toward the spiral staircase. She hurried behind him as he ducked under the caution tape.
Then she saw it. Three steps down, several treads of the stairs were missing, leaving a gap of five feet. It would be easy to jump in normal circumstances, but they had two hostile men in pursuit.
John hurried to the gap, leaped, and made it across. Just as Beth readied to jump, she felt a hand grab her from behind. She spun to see one of the guards with a handful of her jacket, trying to pull her back toward him. She struggled and twisted, but his grip was too tight. As she fought to break free, her writhing caused her to spin so she saw John headed back up toward the gap. He was coming for her. She couldn't let him.
Beth twisted and turned, trying to slip out of her jacket. It came free just as she gave a mighty tug. Her momentum carried her backward toward the gap. She fell through it.