“I need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Okay. Okay, anything.”
“The elevators are still out,” Sarah said. “We’ll have to take the stairs.”
Sam nodded, but he also remembered that they hadn’t seen any stairs in the outside world, just the elevator. He doubted the stairs went to the surface.
As if reading his mind, Sarah said “they have to get to the depot somehow. It’d be a fucking fire hazard.”
Sam nodded again. “Alright. I’ll carry you.”
“Up twelve flights of stairs? Good luck.”
Sam knew she was right. He wasn’t strong enough for that. But Vaughn…
“Hey, where’s Vaughn?”
“Hell if I know. He took off.”
“He what?”
“I don’t know, dammit. He just stood there as my nipple got sliced off and now he’s nowhere. Probably found Kedzie and they’re off in some room fucking each other’s brains out somewhere. I don’t know, I don’t care, just get me out of here.” Sarah was losing her patience and was feeling sick to her stomach again. She knew she reeked of blood and sweat and she just needed to return to the real world. Her left hand was still pressed over her right breast trying to stop the bleeding, but wasn’t sure she was succeeding. Sam helped her to her feet, and she leaned on him for support as they walked up several flights.
Janet was standing on the landing of the suites floor when they came into view.
“Oh my God! What happened?” she exclaimed.
“There was an accident,” Sam explained. “We have to get her to a hospital and the elevators still aren’t working. We’re going to see if these stairs make it out.”
“Al, get over here!” Janet yelled. Al came hurrying into the stairwell, the diary from the skeleton room tucked under his arm. Sam explained the situation and Al offered his sympathies immediately.
Janet fumbled through her purse until she located a small bottle of ibuprofen. Sarah took the container, opened it, found six remaining tablets, and swallowed them all with a swig of the water bottle from Janet’s purse. It tasted warm and vaguely metallic, and Sarah remembered that the bottle had been filled with the water they had been bathing in.
“I can stay and wait for Vaughn and Kedzie,” Al offered.
“Not me,” said Janet. “I want out too.”
Without another word, Janet turned and began to climb the stairs, followed by Sam and Sarah. As they ascended, Sam kept glancing up the center of the stairwell, and could indeed see that the stairs would not go enough flights to reach the surface, but it wasn’t the end of the stairs that stopped their progress. When they turned the third corner of stairs, their path was blocked, not by a wall or a ceiling, but by another body. And this one was fresh.
fourteen
He hadn’t meant to cheat on Sarah, not really. Sam just wanted the satisfaction of knowing that he could sleep with such an attractive woman if he wished. He had been playfully hitting on Kedzie the whole night, but even though she had encouraged him, Sam was careful to only say and do things right up to the line, so he’d have a plausible “out” if she got offended. He kept waiting for Kedzie to rebuff a wayward caress, or express shock at a sexual comment, so he could claim he was “just kidding,” but she never did. As the night progressed, Sam felt she was almost daring him to see how far he would take the game. It made him feel alive, and desirable, and powerful. When it became clear that Kedzie’s drunken flirtations would lead somewhere if he decided to pursue them, it was adrenaline more than desire that pushed him over the edge.
Sarah had been out of town for a few days visiting family, and Sam had found himself chatting with friends online, including Kedzie. She had messaged him first, asking for advice, as she was trying to decide whether to break up with a guy she found “great but dickish.” Sam suggested they talk over drinks at a new martini bar in Lansing. “It’ll be good for you to get out,” he had typed, “and we can try out potential drink options which could make it on my bar’s permanent menu.” At that point, the dream of owning the old depot had just begun to take shape, and he was still working with Janet to make an offer on the place. But Kedzie had admired his ambition in the attempt, and said she would be honored to help in any way she could.
They agreed on a time to meet, and Sam made a joke that she “better look hot.” She responded with the promise that she would, followed by an emoticon wink, before logging off. Something about this innocuous wink made Sam excited. Of course, nothing was going to happen. They were just friends, and more importantly, Sam was in love with and living with Kedzie’s best friend. There was no possibility anything at all would progress between them. And yet Sam felt an overwhelming desire to look hot, too. He took a shower, put on cologne, and even did a little manscaping, which he felt ridiculous doing, as no one was going to see him down there until Sarah returned from her trip. He went back and forth between two different shirts, and even changed from one to the other when he felt his shoulders didn’t look broad enough in his first choice. He realized he was behaving like a teenager preparing for a first date, and he was both amused at and ashamed of himself. He tried to come back to reality, and even debated not brushing his teeth, to prove it was just an evening of hanging out, but he couldn’t help himself. Sam was going to be having drinks with one of the most physically attractive women he had ever met, and he was determined to bring his A-game, even if it was just for solitaire.
He arrived first at the bar, picked a table for two with high stools, and positioned his body so Kedzie would see his best side when she entered. He casually ordered a Bombay Sapphire and tonic, his favorite, then wished he could take it back and order something more manly, like a Canadian bottled beer. As he waited, he began to feel silly, then nervous. Was he trying too hard? Would Kedzie notice at once that he had done his hair for her? That he had actually ironed the shirt he was wearing? That he smelled a little too perfect? And what would she say to Sarah? “Uh, your boyfriend said he just wanted to hang out, but then looked like he was expecting something more…” Yikes. Maybe he could come up with some excuse for looking so awesome, like having dinner with his mom earlier or something. Ugh, no that’s awful. A meeting with potential investors? Better.
And then she walked in, and Sam heard the entire bar’s sharp intake of breath.
He had seen Kedzie look amazing before, particularly on nights she went clubbing with Sarah and their mutual girlfriends. But this was different. Tonight she was looking amazing for him. And she was showing off. Clingy, low-cut little black dress revealing all the right places, hair teased in a professional-yet-slutty way that suggested a recent romp on a conference table, and lips so full, shiny and sparkling he was somehow certain they would taste like strawberries. As she flashed an excited smile and slinked over to his table, Sam knew every man in the place was thinking “that guy is one lucky motherfucker.” And they were right.
Over the next three hours of drinks and flirty conversation, Sam felt like he was in another universe, a place where everything he said was witty, where he could do no wrong, and where all his stated dreams and aspirations were already assured. This beautiful creature before him knew it, too. He deserved a great life. He deserved her. Even if they were just roleplaying, even if this fantasy talk would end the moment he walked her through the parking lot to her car, Sam was determined to enjoy every second of it.
Only he didn’t walk her to her car. He walked her to his.
There was no discussion. Neither of them even acknowledged that Kedzie’s own vehicle was being ignored. Sam simply walked with her to the passenger side of the Mustang, pressed his body into hers as he opened the door for her, helped her inside, and knew the rest of the night was set in stone the instant the car door closed. She was in his possession now, and there was no going back. Only forward. Very forward.
The deep bucket seat had hiked Kedzie’s dress halfway up her thighs, but she made no effort to reclaim modesty. Sam d
idn’t say a word as his free hand caressed her beautiful bare legs as they drove, and Kedzie offered no resistance as he tested how far his fingers could explore. By the time they arrived at his apartment, she was trembling, breathing heavily, and as full of raw desire as Sam had ever seen in a woman. They barely made it through his front door before they were clawing at each other, tearing clothing apart, fucking against the wall, on the counter, over the back of a couch, anywhere and everywhere. Not sex born from love, or even desire, but need.
The next morning, there were no awkward moments. No talk of regret. No assurances that it was just a “one time thing” or to keep it secret. All that was understood. Sam drove Kedzie back to the martini bar parking lot, walked her to her car in the crisp morning air, kissed her cheek with genuine tenderness, and returned home to clean up. He straightened the furniture. He returned knocked-over items to their proper positions. He changed the sheets, though the bed was the one place the two hadn’t had sex. Methodically, he restored his surroundings to normal.
When he was done, Sam sat down and thought about what last night had meant, and how it might affect his relationship with Sarah. He knew he had to decide whether he could live with himself given what he had done, and after replaying some of the most incredible moments of the previous evening in his mind, Sam decided that he could. He reasoned that last night had been a lose-lose situation, for although it was possible he’d regret it the rest of his life, if he hadn’t slept with Kedzie the one time he had the chance, he might have regretted that for the rest of his life instead. And, don’t they always say a man on his deathbed will regret the things he didn’t do more than the things he did? Sam was pretty sure that’s what they said.
That night was the first time Sam had seen Kedzie naked.
This was the second.
Her body lay broken before them, sprawled across a staircase as if caught in free fall, skirt hiked up to her waist and her shirt missing, mouth agape, eyes wide and staring blankly up at absolutely nothing. Sarah screamed, and Janet once again buried her head in Al’s arms, but Sam couldn’t look away. The shock was too much. There was nothing that could explain this. Nothing could rationalize this. There was no way this was happening. And yet, there she was.
“We have to get out of here,” Sam choked. No one moved. Kedzie’s body was blocking the steps. But, Sam knew the steps wouldn’t go high enough anyway.
Beside him, Sarah passed out. Janet half-caught her on the way down, preventing her head from hitting the landing.
“We need to get her to a hospital,” said Janet.
“The elevators are still down, I think,” replied Sam. “And the stairs don’t make it all the way.”
“Let’s get her some water,” offered Al. “Quick, let’s get her down to the baths.”
“Are you crazy?” cried Janet. “We have to get her up, not down!”
“Vaughn left a first aid kit down there,” Al said. “Let’s get her gauzed and alcoholed and woken up, and we can try to fix the elevator.”
“What about her?” asked Janet, motioning to Kedzie’s body without looking at her.
“One thing at a time,” insisted Al.
Sam snapped out of his trance and nodded his head. “Al’s right. Hurry.”
Al helped Sam lift Sarah over his shoulder, only to find he wasn’t strong enough to carry her himself. The two quickly shared the duties, Al holding Sarah’s legs and Sam the arms as they progressed back to the fifth floor. Sarah let out a moan while they were carrying her, which was encouraging, and in no time they were removing her blood-soaked shirt and cleaning Sarah’s wound. Al produced a flask from a pants pocket, took a huge swig, and offered the rest to Janet, who initially declined, until she realized he was offering it as antiseptic, not a beverage. She took the alcohol, went through the first aid kit and did what she could with the mangled breast, an injury which was beginning to clot, before applying several layers of gauze to the area and wrapping tape around her chest and back. Sam removed his button-down shirt, and threaded Sarah’s arms through the fabric and buttoned her up. He now felt a touch cold in only a white cotton undershirt, but he realized the shivering could have been caused by the panic of it all.
Sarah began to come to, and Janet gripped her hand to offer support. When her eyes opened and she realized where she was, she sat up in an instant.
“We’re still…why didn’t you get me out of here,” she demanded.
“We’re trying,” assured Sam. Indeed, Al had pressed the elevator button several times on this level without success. “The stairs don’t make it far enough.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am,” came a voice entering from the stairwell door. It was Vaughn.
Sam was glad to see his friend, but Sarah’s reaction was blistering. “Where the fuck have you been?”
Vaughn stammered. “I was…I was just…” He started walking towards his friends, but Sarah shouted at him to stay put.
“Sarah, what the hell?” insisted Sam.
“He let this happen to me,” Sarah spat. “He stood right by and let that magnet thing slice me open. He didn’t lift a fucking finger as I screamed for help.”
Sam looked back to Vaughn, his fierce eyes demanding answers.
“That’s not true,” protested Vaughn. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. The second the power was back on, I raced to the stairwell to find you, Sam, but you had run up instead, so I ran up too. But I couldn’t find what floor you were on so I kept running. Which is…where I found Kedzie.” He took a breath. “Sam, Kedzie’s dead.”
“I know that,” Sam snapped. “We just came from there, so where the fuck were you?”
“I kept going,” said Vaughn. “To get out, to get help. But the stairs just stop. There’s no way out there. I tried. So I came back down and found you.” He walked a few steps toward Sarah. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”
Sarah wasn’t convinced. “Vaughn, stay the fuck back. You hear me? Back.”
Vaughn froze.
Sam turned to his girlfriend, eyes pleading. “Sarah…it’s Vaughn.”
“Yeah, and he’s the only one who wasn’t with us when Kedzie was killed so I don’t want any fucking excuses. Tell him to stay away!”
Vaughn looked confused and hurt. He sulked back to a corner of the room and slunk to the floor beside one of the baths.
“Sarah,” whispered Sam. “You can’t be accusing Vaughn of…”
“Of what?” she interrupted. “We’re the only ones down here. What do you think happened? Kedzie decided to take her clothes off and tripped?”
“Damnit, Sarah, Vaughn is my best friend…”
“Yeah?” said Sarah. “Well Kedzie’s mine. Was mine. So fuck you!”
Sam looked so instantly, deeply wounded, that Sarah wished she could have taken it back. He stood up and walked to another empty corner of the room, standing still for a long moment. He couldn’t believe that Sarah had accused Vaughn of such violence. But he also couldn’t believe Kedzie was dead, and no explanation, not even Sarah’s insinuation, made any sense.
The silence was broken by Al.
“Guys, it looks like the elevator is stuck on one of the upper floors.” He had pushed the protective cage open and was using Janet’s Realtor penlight to peer up the dark shaft. “If we go up, and fix it, we can get out.”
Janet, who was still kneeling beside Sarah, took Sarah’s hand in her own.
“Dear, can you walk?”
Sarah made it to her feet.
“Yeah,” she said, as soon as she knew for sure. She was still weak, but determined to leave this place at any cost. “Let’s go.”
“Well, hang on,” said Al. “If Vaughn didn’t kill Kedzie, who did?”
“Al,” said Sam impatiently, “we just have to get out of this place.”
“But that’s what I mean,” Al explained. “Kedzie tried, right? And didn’t make it. So if it wasn’t Vaughn, and
it wasn’t some freak accident, then there’s someone else in the hotel.”
They all had been thinking it, each on some level, but everyone froze when it was said aloud. Sam, Sarah, Janet, and Vaughn all looked around at one another, for confirmation that their own fears weren’t unique.
“So?” said Sam to break the silence.
“So,” explained Al, “we should go back down to the lobby and get the gun.”
Sam turned to look at Sarah. He was expecting her to say something like “no fucking way” or “that would only make things worse.” But she surprised him by nodding emphatically, saying “let’s go,” and charging down the stairs ahead of them. Sam never gave her enough credit for complexity, he realized for the hundredth time. He also recognized that he had been hoping she hadn’t been receptive to the gun idea, as he really was terrified of such weapons, and would rather have opposed the move using the excuse of a peace-loving girlfriend, rather than reveal his own insecurities. Sam also hated admitting to himself how much he admired Sarah at times like this, where she was the strong one, more likely to protect him than the other way around.
The group walked down the stairs more or less together, with Sarah in the lead and Vaughn at the rear. The further they descended, the heavier the atmosphere felt, until it was almost suffocating, and Sam realized he was walking slower. Janet, too, seemed to be slowing down, and it wasn’t until she turned to face Sam did he notice she was crying.
“Janet?”
“I have to get out of here, Sam,” she responded in a whisper.
“I know,” he replied. “We all do. And we will.”
“I mean it. I can’t do this. That girl’s dead. Why are we going down. We need to be going up. We can’t…” Janet’s voice trailed off. They had arrived at the final landing, and Sarah was opening the door to the lobby.
“It will be okay.”
“Why can’t Al and I work on fixing the elevator,” pleaded Janet. “You can meet us back with the gun.”
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