“Can you see how far we are from the top?” I asked.
“I think the roof is about seven floors away,” said Kendall.
“Seven floors away…” I murmured. “Is there any way for me to climb up?”
“I’m not really sure…I’ll climb on top of the elevator and see.”
Before I could answer, he pulled himself up and onto the top of the elevator.
After moment he said: “I guess you could climb up the cables. But I don’t know if anyone else could make it that far…”
“Well I could try to find a rope ladder or something once I’m up there,” I said. “I’m sure there’ll be something near the helicopters.”
“But what if the elevator starts moving while you’re climbing? You could be crushed,” Livia said.
“Or if the cables snapped she could fall,” said Owen. “Or she could get to the top and not find anything to help us get up. Anything could happen. And how do we even know she can make it all the way to the top? Climbing cable is probably way different then climbing a tree.”
“I thought you were the one who wanted to try?" said Vanissa. And I think everyone’s missing something obvious. Britta could get hurt or killed, trying to climb up, but if she doesn’t we’ll all die anyway.”
Then they all began to argue, as I just stood there watching in disbelief.
“But it’s not like we have more than one try! If she falls we’re all dead!!!”
“And if we stay here disputing every detail then it’ll be too late too even try!”
“If we don’t give it any thought then Britta could end up dead and we could too!”
“Don’t act like you care about Britta or us! You’re the ones who have been ignoring and avoiding us! And you acted as if you were our friends back on the Island! I don’t think you ever really were!”
‘’You’re the one calling yourself and Britta ‘us’! Like you’re already a separate group or have always been!”
“Well we are now!!!”
Ignoring them, I began helping Kendall down from the elevator roof. But just as he set foot on the ground, the elevator began to drop and a collective scream tore through the elevator.
20
For half a second, everything turned chaotic. I felt the sensation of the ground being pulled out from under my feet and myself being left behind. I smashed into something and the air was ripped from my lungs, cutting off my scream. And then the elevator stopped and jolted upward, slamming us against the floor and then stopping short.
I gasped, fighting to regain my breath, as I tried to focus despite my pounding headache. Everything seemed to be flashing and all I could hear was gasps and choking noises all around, as everyone struggled to breathe again.
As I lay there, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal, I glanced around the elevator. Owen, Livia, Vanissa and Priscila all looked shaken and a little bruised, but didn’t appear to have any major injuries. Then I saw Kendall. He lay gasping and shaking, his head in a pool of blood!
My head spinning, I got up and ran over to him, everyone else finally beginning to notice as well. We all crowded around him, asking questions frantically. I had no idea of what to do, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Livia tear off a piece of her jacket and tie it tightly around his head. Almost immediately, I could see the blood begin to seep through his bandage. But instead of doing anything more to help, Livia stood up and looked at me.
“Britta,” she said. “I agree with Vanissa now. If we’re going to get out we’ve got to do it now.”
I didn’t hesitate even for a moment. Vanissa helped me up enough so I could reach the ceiling. Then I grabbed onto the edge of the open space the panel had left and pulled myself up without a problem. Carefully, I stood and looked up at the roof far above. The only way to get to the roof was to climb the cables to the top and somehow remove the metal grating which was between the elevator shaft and the roof. But the problem was the roof, which had been seven floors away was now about fourteen!
I didn’t say anything about it to my friends, but instead set my hands on the cable, preparing myself to climb. The minute I did so, I realized it would be impossible to do it without something to help me. The cables weren’t rough and easy to grip like I’d imagined. Instead, they were greasy and so slippery I immediately knew it was pointless to even try to climb with nothing on my hands. I was about to call down to Vanissa and ask her if I could use her jacket, when I remembered something. I still had the cloth scraps in my bag.
I reached in my bag and pulled out a few pieces of cloth, the perfect size to fit over my hands. I put one piece of cloth over my left hand and then put my hand against the wire. Then, instead of putting the other piece of cloth over my right hand, I instead stuffed it into my pocket. The reason was that I’d realized it would be much easier to just use my knife to help myself climb out. The wire was thick but many pieces of it were slightly out-of-place, creating little notches I could jam my knife in.
Slowly, I began the perilous climb. I jammed my knife into the wire and then, pulled myself up with my other hand and found a somewhat secure place to stick it in. Then, bracing my feet against another wire a few feet away, I pulled myself up a few feet. (If it weren’t for these little defaults in the wire, I would never have been able to do it. The wire was so slippery, even the cloth barely helped.) I yanked my knife out and every muscle in my body straining with effort, somehow managed to jam it into another notch in the wire. In this way, I kept going, sticking my knife in a notch a few feet above, pulling myself up while pushing with my feet against the other wire, and then repeating the whole process again.
I don’t know how much time passed, but every minute seemed like hours. I pushed and pulled, and pushed and pulled, until I felt like any second I’d just lose my hold on the wire and fall. I could faintly hear my friends in the elevator below calling out directions and advice to me, but I couldn’t decipher any of it. There seemed to be a ringing noise in my ears blocking me from hearing other sounds clearly.
When I was about four floors away from the top, I accidentally pushed too hard against the wire with my feet and felt myself slip and fall, with only my knife still attached to the wire. I was now dangling, with only one hand on my knife and I wasn’t even sure if it would stay in the wire much longer. TEN floors below were the elevator and my friends, now calling out to me frantically. Someone was screaming my name, but I couldn’t tell who. Everyone was panicking and it was clear they had good reason too. Because, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t manage to pull myself back up. And I was afraid if I pulled too hard the knife would come loose and I’d fall.
I blocked out all the noise, reminding myself that I had to get to the top quickly or we’d all die. As slowly and carefully as I could, I moved my other hand along the wire until it connected with a notch I could stick it in. With this extra security, I found the courage to put more weight on the knife and managed to get my feet back into place.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. If I wasn’t calm I’d never make it. I couldn’t be shaky or even get dizzy. If I was, I’d fall. And, of course, I couldn’t risk falling, because if I did—I’d die. There really was no question about it. Falling ten floors through an elevator shaft—there just didn’t seem to be any way I’d survive it.
Then I began once more the tedious and exhausting process of pulling myself up the wire. I knew I couldn’t go too quickly or I’d collapse and fall from exhaustion. But I also knew I couldn’t simply take my time because at any time the elevator could fall. So, I kept going higher, trying only to think of my destination; the roof. Pulling and pulling, higher and higher. I was just so exhausted… Every muscle in my body seemed to scream in pain, begging me to just let go. By the time I got to the top I’m not sure which was more strained: my muscles or my will-power.
I guess you’d think I’d feel a triumphant burst of energy at making it to the top, but that wasn’t the case at all. Instead, as I struggled to
push away the heavy metal grating, I only felt myself growing weaker. The problem was, since one of my hands was holding onto the knife, I only had one hand to push with.
I pressed my hand against it and shoved over and over, hoping it would eventually come loose. But it didn’t and I was running out of strength. Finally I took my hand away, once more clutching onto the wire. Breathing heavily, I looked downward to see if my friends were alright. And that’s when I heard them begin to scream and saw the elevator RISING. It was shooting upward, towards me, at what seemed like an unnaturally quick speed.
21
I shoved and pushed with all my might, but it just wouldn’t come off and the elevator was now only seconds away from crushing me. I entwined my fingers in the spaces of the grating for better grip. Then, using every bit of my strength, I gave it one last forceful shove. The grating lifted up and I shoved it to the side just enough to give me space to fit through; already beginning to climb out.
I yanked my knife out of its place and tossed it onto the roof. Grasping the edge with one hand and, pushing off the cable with my other one, I swung my legs up and onto the roof. Then I managed to pull myself completely onto the roof, just as the elevator reached the top.
Almost as soon as the elevator stopped, it began to drop again and I could see my friends inside being thrown around. Fortunately, before I had time to even worry about them, the elevator jolted to a stop, about ten floors from the roof.
(I guess the reason for all of the dropping and then shooting back up, was that the people who were doing it to us didn’t want us trying to escape. But since they no longer could view the security cameras feed, they didn’t know we already were escaping. And the reason they hadn’t just taken us out was because they were probably trying to figure out what to do with us. Since we’d been the last group planned to enter The Other Side, it would be upsetting to all the people if we didn’t. And since I’d messed up the controls for The Other Side…well you can see how that would be a problem for them.)
I got to my feet and ran toward one of the helicopters on the roof. When I reached it I searched all around its side, looking for a ladder or rope or something, ANYTHING that was easier to climb than the cable. Finding nothing on its sides, I ran under it and to my relief, spotted a large coil of very-thick rope. I soon found out it was much too heavy to carry, so I drug it over to the edge of the elevator shaft and got to work.
I knew it would be much too hard for them, if I simply dropped the rope down and had them climb it. But fortunately I had a better idea. I formed a circle with the rope big enough for someone to step in and fit their legs in comfortably and then knotted it. Then I looped the other end of the rope around a small metal rung the grating had previously been attached to and let both ends fall to the elevator. What I had made was, I guess, a kind of pulley. Someone could sit in the looped end and hold themselves up by the other part of the rope. Then, if they pushed off with their feet on the wall, they’d be able to pull themselves up little by little.
I could faintly hear their voices below, and peering through the darkness, I could just make out that it was Vanissa who was coming up first. She didn’t take very long at all, but I was still so anxious to get out of the country that she seemed to take forever. When she did pull herself up and out of the shaft, rather than feeling relieved, I only felt my anxiety increase. Then we hurriedly lowered the rope back down the shaft, so the next person could come up.
One by one, everyone made it out, until only Priscila remained. No one had had any trouble climbing, but some had taken longer than others. Vanissa had been the fastest with Owen in a close second, Livia had taken about twice as long as they had and Kendall had been surprisingly good at climbing but still not quite as fast as Owen or Vanissa. But no one had slipped or started to fall, so overall things were going pretty well.
Once Priscila had secured the rope around herself, she braced her feet against the wall and began to pull herself up, just as everyone else had. She seemed to be doing fine as far as I could see. She didn’t seem nervous or scared and she wasn’t having any trouble with the rope.
But when she was a little over three floors up, the elevator suddenly began to move upward. It wasn’t going fast but the sound startled her. She turned to look down and lost her grip on the rope. It slipped from her hands and I had just enough time to scream before she fell, hitting her head as she landed, on the elevator roof. Owen leaped forward and grabbed the rope, just as it slipped from the metal rung, but it was too late to help Priscila. She was lying on top of the elevator, (which had now stopped about seven floors from the roof); crumpled and unconscious—at least I hoped she was just unconscious.
“You have to get her out!” I cried. “She’s going to die! She's going to…die.” It was then I realized that what I was saying could already be true. She could already be dead. She could have died when she hit her head on the hard surface of the elevator roof. After all, I’d heard the sound from seven floors above.
“Britta,” said Vanissa. “We’re going to pull her out. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”
But I hardly even heard what she was saying. I just kept thinking: Priscila’s going to die. If only she hadn’t gone last… if it had been Vanissa or Owen or even Livia, they would have had a better chance of making it all the way to the top. But why did it have to be her? I was so upset; I couldn’t concentrate even enough to think of a way to get her out. I’d always been good at thinking clearly in emergencies and times of dire need, but I guess something was different when it was Priscila who was the one in desperate circumstances.
Owen pulled on the rope and Priscila’s limp body lifted into the air, threatening to slip at any moment from the rope, which was now around her back. Owen pulled slowly and steadily, so no sudden movements would cause her to fall. The higher she got, the more the sickish feeling in the pit of my stomach increased. I felt light-headed and I suddenly felt myself clutching Vanissa’s arm to keep from falling. I almost wanted to tell Owen to just hurry up and get her to the top, but at the same time I wanted him to stop, slow down, so she wouldn’t fall. If she did fall, she’d break every bone in her body. But if Owen didn’t hurry The Island Program people might figure out we were no longer in the elevator and find us on the roof.
This is a nightmare, I thought. This is just like my nightmares. And, turns out it really was—because Priscila was only about half way up when the elevator once more, began moving upward.
22
“No!!!” I practically screamed. But that was all I got out. I couldn’t manage to say another word. It was like there was something stuck in the back of my throat, keeping me from saying anything.
Owen kept up his steady pace with no sudden movements, but he gradually began pulling faster as it became clear that if he didn’t the elevator would collide with Priscila at any moment. But even when he was pulling her faster, it still looked like the elevator was going to overtake them.
Tears were streaming down my face, I was struggling to even breathe and I clutched Vanissa’s arm like it was a life-line. I just couldn’t bear the thought that Priscila could die or even already be dead.
There was only one more floor to go when the elevator suddenly sped up, shooting toward Priscila’s unconscious form at what seemed like impossible speeds. Owen pulled harder, but I could tell it wasn’t enough. The elevator was only a few yards away and Priscila was almost to the roof, when Owen suddenly jerked the rope (to get her up faster I guess) and she began to slide from the rope!
“Owen, help her!!!” I screamed, my throat suddenly reopening in a moment of panic. “She’s going to fall! You have to do something! Help her!” But when Owen made no attempt to reach her, I realized I’d have to shake myself out of panic and help her myself.
I flung myself to the ground, leaning over the edge of the shaft. Just as she slipped from the rope, I reached forward and caught her hand. But the sudden jerk of her weight, light as she was, pulled me forward and over the edge. For a s
plit second I thought both Priscila and I would fall, but then I felt hands grab hold of my ankle, pinning it to the ground and stabilizing me, just before I could plummet down the shaft to my death. I knew it was Vanissa. At that moment, she seemed like my only real friend.
The elevator came to a stop just before it ran into Priscila and in a moment Owen was there to help me pull Priscila out. I almost didn’t want his help. I somehow felt like I shouldn’t trust him. Why hadn’t he made any attempt to help Priscila? Had he simply been in shock or did it go deeper than that? And at first he’d seemed so level-headed, pulling Priscila up at a steady pace to keep her from falling, then he’d just suddenly jerked on the rope and she’d nearly fallen. Something about it all just didn’t quite match up. So it was very reluctantly, that I let him help me pull Priscila out of the shaft and onto the ground at our feet.
Vanissa knelt down by Priscila and shook her lightly. “Priscila?” she said. “Priscila, can you hear me? Priscila?” but Priscila didn’t say anything and her eyes stayed shut.
She’s dead. I thought, clamping my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. She’s dead and I’ll never see or talk to her again. This is a nightmare and it’s not over yet. Then I felt a feeling I’d never felt before. It was like a cold hand clamping over my heart and a terrible darkness that seemed to be made of fear itself seeping into my mind. It made my hands shake and I felt like I was falling down an endless pit with nothing good lying ahead of me.
“Priscila can you hear me?” Vanissa said again, this time leaning over and listening for a pulse. For a moment she did nothing. Then she frowned and listened more closely. The tension in the air was almost palpable. No one moved or even turned their gaze from the scene before them. It was so quiet you wouldn’t have thought anyone was breathing. Then Vanissa looked up at me and smiled the smallest of smiles.
The Other Side (The Other Side Trilogy Book 1) Page 13