Chapter 3 - Blood on the Linoleum
The silence in the small laundry room became absolute. Sofia held her breath, her fingers frozen around Julian’s collar. Through the thin crack beneath the door, a pair of dark shadows severed the yellow light from the hallway.
A heavy boot struck the base of the door. Once. Twice.
""Check the maintenance rooms,"" a muffled voice commanded from outside. It was the same flat, emotionless voice that had uttered the chilling confirmation minutes earlier in the garage. ""They couldn't have gone far. Look for drag marks.""
Julian looked at Sofia, his jaw tight. He reached inside his black tailored jacket and pulled out a sleek, rectangular object made of brushed steel. It wasn't a weapon; it was an encrypted electronic keycard with a crimson strip across the top. He pressed it into Sofia’s palm, his fingers burning hot against her cold skin.
""Take it,"" Julian whispered, his lips barely moving. ""Emergency freight elevator at the end of the hall. It bypasses the lobby and goes directly to the private residential suites.""
""I am not leaving you here to die,"" Sofia whispered fiercely, her eyes blazing with stubborn defiance. She had spent five years enduring arrogant guests, abusive managers, and scraping by on minimum wage, but she was not a coward.
""I'll slow you down,"" Julian insisted, though the desperation in his gaze betrayed him. ""If they catch both of us, neither makes it up.""
""Shut up,"" she breathed.
Behind the rows of industrial washing bins stood an old laundry chute—a vertical drop designed to send soiled bedding straight down to the industrial incinerator and sorting basement. But right next to it was the maintenance access hatch, used by the HVAC technicians to crawl between floors.
Sofia dragged Julian by the lapels of his jacket, shoving aside a heavy bin of dirty tablecloths. With straining muscles, she yanked open the metal hatch. The narrow opening revealed an iron ladder climbing upward into a dusty, vertical shaft filled with humming electrical conduits.
""Up,"" she commanded.
""I can't climb that,"" Julian groaned, his limbs trembling violently as the paralytic warred with his nervous system.
""You climb, or I let them shoot you,"" she snapped. ""Move!""
Julian bit down on his lower lip until a thin smear of blood appeared, channeling the agony into motion. He grabbed the lowest rung and pulled. Sofia wedged herself beneath him, using her shoulders and back to boost his dead weight upward.
Just as his polished leather shoes cleared the threshold, the linen room door was kicked off its latch. The lock splintered with a deafening crack.
May you like
Sofia scrambled into the hatch, grabbing the iron rim and hauling the small metal door shut just as the beam of a tactical flashlight swept across the floorboards. She shoved the deadbolt into place with a trembling thumb.
A second later, a deafening blast shattered the thin metal panel. A bullet tore through the top corner of the hatch, showering Sofia’s hair with hot sparks and pulverized plaster.
