Chapter Thirteen – The Close Call
Monday, April 9th
Monday at work, I’m nervous going in. I ended up having an incredibly fun night with Dean on Friday night and now I feel unsure of myself. Not only had I been underage while drinking with a cop, but I was out with someone who is investigating a crime I have committed. Not the smartest move I’ve ever made. So I ignored his calls over the rest of the weekend, feeling bad about doing so and dreading the fact that I would be seeing him Monday.
I find myself hoping he might not be there, but as my luck has it, he arrives just as I do. I walk in with Hugh, deciding I won’t mention Dean when Officer Johnson himself walks up to us and corners me.
“Rose…”
“I’ll talk to you later, Hugh,” I say dismissively. Hugh keeps walking, but as soon as he is behind Dean, he starts making smooching faces and other moves that make me instantly blush. I focus back on Dean’s face and try to act cool.
“Hey, sorry I didn’t find time to get back to you.” I give him a strained smile, hoping to look more carefree, yet knowing I look anything other than carefree. I need to pull myself together.
“That’s okay. I worried you didn’t get home all right.”
“Well, I did.” I smile again and avoid his eyes as I try to move past him, but he moves with me.
“Did I do something wrong?” Dean frowns and I feel my heart flutter again. What is wrong with me? Dean seems like an incredibly nice guy and he is hot enough to melt ice just by standing near it. What is the reason I’m pushing him away again?
“No, not at all.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Dean reaches out and touches my arm lightly and I notice a crowd has appeared by the copy machine. Dean follows my eyesight and he, too, sees the crowd.
“Can we talk about this later? I don’t want to be late for work.”
I don’t wait for an answer as I move past him.
I get to my desk and fear an ambush from Hugh and the others when I notice a note has been left on my computer.
I open it up to read it and all it says is ‘Storeroom now.’
Is this from Dean? Has he found something out about the case? Does he know I wouldn’t want to talk about this in front of everyone?
I look up and see his eyes are on me. My stomach drops, knowing I can’t escape this conversation. I watch him speak to my bank manager, Harry, and have the distinct impression that I might be the topic of conversation. I notice Hugh making a beeline to my desk and I quickly stand and move off towards the storeroom. I should at least hear Dean out and perhaps I can explain myself to him. I can make him realize that I’m not a bad person.
The back of the bank is empty as it’s still early morning. I walk into the storeroom and turn the lights on since no one has gotten around to that yet. I rarely go into the storeroom. It’s mostly full of supplies like pens, paper, ink cartridges and things like that. It’s next to the break room and is equally as big. I don’t really have a reason to go in here, but I take a deep breath and wait for Dean to come in.
I don’t have to wait long. Less than a few seconds later, Dean walks in and moments after that, the door shuts behind him. The closed door makes me feel claustrophobic and I try to calm my breathing down.
“Dean—”
“Do you have any idea how much trouble I can get in because of what I know now?”
“I’m so sorry, Dean. Let me explain—”
“Explain what? That you let a police officer buy someone who is underage drinks all night?”
“I’m so—what?” I feel surprised; this is definitely a shift from where I thought the conversation was going.
“Did you think it was funny? Did you get a laugh about it with all your friends?” He glares at me.
“No—”
“I liked you, Rose, but I don’t like liars and I don’t like games.”
Dean turns around to leave, but the door has locked behind him. He pulls on it, but it won’t budge.
“You’re going to break it.” I move my hand to the door and watch as he quickly pulls his away. I jiggle the door knob with the same degree of success Dean had.
“Hello? We’re stuck in here!” I yell out, knowing it’s unlikely anyone will hear us. I think about picking the lock, yet I know it’s a long shot. The locks in here are more complicated than average. Besides, even attempting such a thing in front of a cop probably isn’t the smartest thing in the world.
“I’m sorry, Rose. I had to do this.” A voice filters through the locked door from the other side.
I let go of the knob and hold my breath. That voice sounds familiar.
“Who are you?” I yell back, feeling dread sitting in my stomach.
“I won’t leave your side, Rose. We’ll go through to the other side together. I love you.”
I take a step away from the door, feeling goose bumps roll over my body.
“Who is that? He sounds crazy,” Dean asks me. His anger seems to have subsided for now.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, but have a bad feeling welling up inside of me. Something is wrong.
“Is there anyway else out of this place?” Dean looks around us.
“No.” I feel uneasy, knowing we’re locked in here with the words of what that man said hanging in the air with us.
“Why were you even in here?” Dean huffed, annoyed that we’re stuck.
“What do you mean? You left me a note saying to come in here.”
“No, I didn’t. I was just having a discussion with your bank manager, who is very impressed with his nineteen-year-old newest employee, when I saw you walking out the back. I followed you and you came in here, so I did, too.”
“Well, if you didn’t leave me the note, then who did?” I again wonder about that voice.
A loud squeal rings out and I cover my ears to block the sound out. It’s the fire alarm.
“What the hell?” Dean yells over the loud noise, covering his ears, too.
“We need to get out of here.” I struggle with the door knob again, but it remains jammed shut.
“I’ll radio for help. It’ll be okay.” Dean holds my hand, which is now shaking.
What if we burn alive, stuck in here? We’re trapped and the only way out is locked. Doors in a bank are sturdy, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to barge our way through one.
“Radios don’t work in here and same for cell phones. This whole bank is pretty much a reception black hole.” My heart drops with that sudden awakening of knowledge. We’re going to die in this room.
Dean moves away from me and starts looking around the storeroom. There are no windows and no other doorways out of here. We’re trapped.
“What about up there?” Dean calls out to me over the alarm.
I look up to see a ventilation shaft for the air-conditioning positioned above us.
“And how do you propose we get into that?”
I look around us, not seeing any chairs or anything of use that we can use to lift up into it.
“Help me stack these up.” Dean points at a pile of boxes full of blank paper. I move over and help him stack them into a small pile. There isn’t enough to make a high pile, yet it is at least better than it had been.
Dean lightly steps on the top box and, while the lids crush down, they thankfully don’t move or collapse. Once both legs are on the small stack, he lifts his arms and grabs the vent above and tries to pull it out. No luck. He then looks to be trying to push it upwards and, after what feels like a lifetime of Dean grunting and struggling with the vent, he finally gets it to break off. He holds it diagonally and brings it down, steps off the boxes and leans it against the shelves.
“Come over here.”
I hesitantly walk over to him and look up at the shaft. It looks bigger now that I’m closer, however it will still be a tight squeeze for Dean.
“I don’t really feel comfortable doing this.” My nerves start in then and I realize how small it will be up in that shaft
.
“You’ll be fine. I’ll be right behind you.” He holds out his hand and I hesitantly put my hand in his. “I’ll give you a boost.”
“Don’t look up my dress,” I lamely joke, trying to make the situation light.
“Oh darn, you caught me.” He rolls his eyes at me then leans down and wraps his arms around my hips. Within seconds, he stands straight up and I’m high in the air.
I grab the edges of the vent and try to lift myself into it, but my arms are already shaking under my weight.
“I don’t think I am strong enough for this.”
He holds me up higher and I feel his arms shaking lightly. I again try with all my might to pull myself into the shaft, however instead, I lose my balance and my hand slips from the shaft. I fall back into Dean and he only barely manages not to fall off the boxes holding us. We are breathing heavily by this point and don’t speak for a moment.
“Sorry,” I tell him once my breathing becomes less ragged.
“It’s okay. I’ll just go first and pull you up.”
I nod, realizing the alternative is to be potentially burned alive.
Dean jumps up, grabs hold of the ventilation shaft and hoists himself up into it. In a matter of seconds, he is up there. The only problem is that he doesn’t have enough room to turn around. Instead, he has to move backwards, past the hole and pull me up that way. Once he is into position, he leans half his body out of the shaft, picks me up by the arms and quickly pulls me up.
It hurts. I feel like his grip is bruising me and my shoulders protest immediately. Finally, though, I’m able to lean my arms on the shaft and Dean then moves down to grip my hips, which he uses to move me up without any effort at all. I slide further down the shaft and cough as I breathe in the dust, immediately making a promise to myself not to touch my face with my hands until washing them thoroughly.
“Move along to the next opening you see.”
I move up onto my knees and start crawling forward. Soon, the light fades from the storeroom and it’s pitch black. The only sound I hear is the booming fire alarm that appears to be even louder in this small area. I hold out my hands to feel my way forward, certain that I will either crawl into a solid wall or fall down an empty black hole. I try not to think about how small this space is and not get annoyed when I feel Dean constantly at my feet. I know I’m moving slowly, and I’m grateful he doesn’t complain, yet the constant feel of him at my feet is unnerving.
“Can you see anything up ahead?” Dean calls out.
“Yeah, I see more darkness.” However, even as I say it, I notice a light starting to form. I move faster towards it and look down the vents. It’s an office and there is no smoke or fire there. It’s on the opposite side of the building to the storeroom which surprises me because I had no idea we had travelled so far.
I move over it without even bothering to try to get it open and wait for Dean to use his muscles.
When I hear a loud clanging noise, I look back and see Dean holding the vent. He again holds it diagonally, slides it through the opening and, I assume, drops it, but I don’t hear the noise of it collapsing over the alarm.
“Move forward a bit more.”
Dean moves past the hole and then goes feet down into the office. He dangles for a moment before he drops himself. I move backwards and look down the hole to see Dean has landed safely on top of the desk in the office.
“Do what I just did with my legs and I’ll help you down the rest of the way.”
“Don’t forget what I said about looking up my dress!” I weakly call down to him, but the truth is, I’m starting to feel more panic trying to invade my thoughts than before. What if we’re trapped in this office? What if the fire is just outside the door?
I move backwards and lean down on my stomach. I let my legs dangle over and slowly push myself down. Dean securely wraps his arms around my legs and I continue to let myself fall down the vent slowly.
When I’m down to just holding on by my arms, Dean slides his own arms up to just below my hips. I feel cold at the bottom of my legs and know it’s because his grip is so tight that he is bringing up my dress as I get further down this vent.
“Just let go and I’ll have you.”
I close my eyes and let go. I slip down for another couple of seconds before my world stops. I’m in Dean’s arms, my dress is up around my hips and my underwear is probably showing.
“Thanks.” I move to get myself free so I can pull down my dress before Dean realizes how ridiculous I look, yet before I can, Dean leans down and kisses me. His arms wrap around me and my hands find their way to his chest before they start to pull at his uniform. His tongue enters my mouth eagerly and I open for him; I’m just as hungry for his taste as he appears to be for mine. We kissed several times Friday night, but somehow, this kiss feels more intense and better than any I have ever had before.
When we finally pull apart, I smile up at him and the urgent ringing of the fire alarm seems to fall to the back of my mind as the shrill dulls.
“Come on, we need to get out of here.” Dean moves away and I quickly pull my dress down. He jumps off the desk and takes my hand as I move off it, too. He keeps hold of my hand after I’m safely on the ground and we look at the door in front of us. I pray to whoever is listening that it will be unlocked.
We stand in front of the door and I watch Dean reach out and take hold of the handle just as an explosion outside happens. Windows smash, the ground vibrates and an unseen force pushes Dean and me backwards, where we both fall to the ground. My head hits the desk behind me and I scream at the intrusion of what is happening. My ears ring and I fear they might be bleeding from the noise. Dean is yelling something at me, but the ringing is too loud to understand what he’s saying. He grabs my shoulders and points at the doorway. When my eyes move slowly to look at it, I see the door is no longer on its hinges. Dean stands up and again looks like he is yelling something to me. I nod, unsure what else to do and I watch him run outside into the hallway and back towards the back of the bank, towards the storeroom.
I slowly stand up; my whole body is shaking and my legs feel like jelly. I touch my head that is throbbing and see blood on my hands when I move them back out in front of me. I stumble to the doorway and see small fires lit from whatever caused the explosion.
I wonder briefly if the person the voice belonged to had still been down by the storeroom. If they had been, then they wouldn’t be now. Had they caused the explosion? Had the person intended to kill me with that?
I see Dean moving about, perhaps trying to see if anyone else has been hurt. I move away from him, feeling ill as I take in the scene. A strange dust hangs in the air and I feel a need for open space and fresh air. I push towards my desk and see the entire bank has been evacuated. Taking my bag that is sitting innocently on top of my desk, I move to the front doors and stumble outside, coughing. A fireman grabs my arm instantly and before I can think about anything, I’m being pulled aside and in a blink I’m suddenly sitting inside an ambulance.
“Are you okay, miss?”
I nod, feeling relief that the ringing is quieter out here.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Rose.” I cough, now feeling thirsty from breathing in all the dust and smoke.
“Good. Now, Rose, are you hurt anywhere else besides your head?”
I shrug, not sure of anything.
“Okay—”
“Derek, we got a situation over here. Pregnant woman has collapsed and her vitals are not looking good,” another paramedic calls to the one asking me questions.
Derek, the paramedic, gives me an icepack and tells me he will be right back. I look down at my hands and see my keys are resting in them. When I grabbed my bag, I must have taken out my car keys as habit. Feeling a strong urge to get out of here and to be outside, I leave the ambulance and find it easy to disappear. No one is focused on me as media vans begin to pull up; I know no one will be looking at me as I leave. A
ll attention is turned to the bank, or what is left of it.
I rush to the side street, out to our staff car park and get into my car, sitting in it for long minutes, taking deep breaths. My body is still shaking as I move my rear vision mirror to face me and take in my appearance, seeing both dried and fresh blood down the left side of my face. I quickly wipe away at it, not caring that a part in my hair stings as I apply pressure to it.
The urge to leave hits me again and I put my keys in the ignition and turn them, feeling comfort in the rumbling of the engine.
I reverse out of the parking lot and leave out the back way, hoping to avoid traffic.
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