Behind The Voice Page 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

  I should be excited that I was finally getting rescued from this box. The last six hours of my life had been spent in this elevator talking to a voice with otherworldly powers that went by the name of Jeremy.

  I should be beside myself with relief to hear the footsteps above me as my rescuer fumbled about with metal hooks, straps, cables and locks.

  Instead I was suddenly fearful, and extremely protective of Jeremy. Deep down I knew that when they opened that elusive trap door in the ceiling and pulled me out, that would be the end of Jeremy, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let him go yet.

  No. I knew I wasn’t ready to let him go.

  “Jeremy?” I called out for him, hoping he already knew of the change in events and our little guest from above, but if not, I was going to make sure he knew.

  The sounds from above quickened, and the shuffling of boots on metal drifted down to meet my ears.

  “Jeremy!” I risked yelling for him, my heart stepped up its pace to match the sounds.

  We have a problem Cordelia.

  His statement puzzled me. I was already confused as to why I didn’t want to be rescued, but for my rescue to be a problem? That was even more baffling.

  “I think someone’s trying to rescue me.” I found myself pointing up at the ceiling.

  This might hurt.

  There are several points in one’s life when a statement, or word, can’t bring any good to you. This was one of those points in my life. It was like the infamous I’ll-be-right-back in horror movies. They never came back, those four words destining them to a horrific and bloody date with a chainsaw, knife, or other life-consuming means of destruction.

  So I knew the three little words that still floated about the elevator, mingling with the clanking and shuffling sounds from above were sure to usher in a series of events that would likely end up with me being seriously injured.

  I clutched the handrail with both hands in white knuckled anticipation.

  I won’t let anything happen to you.

  My only weapon was to hope and pray that Jeremy actually meant what he said. This wasn’t the first time he said this to me, and I had an inkling that it wouldn’t be the last time.

  I shut my eyes with such force that I thought my eyelids would end up curling up and over themselves. My fingers ached from my death grip on the handrail, and I held in my breath as if whatever was about to happen next would result in the loss of air around me, and I would need that breath to survive the aftermath.

  But nothing happened.

  The muffled sounds from above continued to lazily drift down like leaves in the fall, where my ears could kick them up and dance in their soft and fragile bodies.

  I opened one eye at first, cautiously, and then I let my other eye open. My grip relaxed on the handrail and I opened my mouth to ask Jeremy what was happening when it finally happened.

  A yelp escaped my mouth and I nearly bit my tongue clean off as I clamped my mouth shut to not let out anymore screams, squeals, or other embarrassing sounds.

  The quick drop and sudden stop of the elevator wasn’t enough to make me lose my balance and crash to the floor like before, but I heard above me that it was enough to catch my rescuer off guard as they slammed down onto the top of the elevator.

  A string of foul words arose and mixed with more sounds of rubber on metal as I imagined the rescuer trying to get back to his feet. I knew Jeremy wasn’t done, so I grabbed for the handrail again and held on for dear life.

  The immediate drop the elevator took this time wasn’t as short as before, but the stop at the end was just as jarring.

  My rescuer landed hard on the ceiling in a different location this time. More blush inducing language sputtered out of his mouth and I could hear him scrambling about up there. No doubt trying to get a hold of something that would ensure he didn’t go toppling over the side of the car.

  I was curious about what would be going through his mind right about now. He was likely thinking the elevator was malfunctioning and he was told it would be dangerous to come out here, but I’m guessing no one had any idea how dangerous it truly would be. It was one thing to deal with a malfunctioning elevator, and something completely different to deal with an elevator being controlled to purposefully fling you off of it.

  The scraping of the rescuer’s boots on the metal above as he found his footing again was accompanied with a sigh, had he said one word instead, it would have been ‘finally’. I shook my head in disagreement at his sigh because from experience, I knew Jeremy’s shenanigans were not over, and I didn’t loosen up my grip on the handrail.

  The elevator shot upwards at least three flights and the rescuer was smashed back onto the ceiling. This time no words or sounds escaped his lips as he fought to stay on the elevator.

  When the metal car reached Jeremy’s desired location the brakes instantly locked up, and then immediately released, causing the elevator to plummet five stories. The result of the simulated roller coaster ride was the rescuer screaming and me gritting my teeth as hard as my eyes were shut, which was another eyelid curling moment.

  Shockingly enough, I realized that at no point did I think about what would happen to the rescuer during all of this. But if I had, I would not have imagined a death resulting in my selfishness. I thought surely that Jeremy would bounce him around some and the man would simply give up and be on his way. But upon hearing him scream I snapped out of it, wanting Jeremy to myself was not worth the weight of this man’s death on my conscience. I would just have to let him go, regardless of how much that tore at me.

  “Jeremy!” I screamed, “Jeremy stop! You’re going to kill him!”

  I started to panic for this man’s life. He was someone’s son, grandson, maybe even someone’s father, and Jeremy was going to shake him off the elevator like he was merely that annoying tiny spider that hung from your arm while you were outside enjoying a summer day.

  In response to my plea, the elevator brakes squealed the metal box to a stop. The elevator steadied itself, but I could feel the tension in its structure. It seemed to quiver with the exertion of holding still. I looked cautiously around me expecting to see beads of sweat pop up out of the walls, and above me I heard the whimper of the man.

  My eyebrows knit themselves together as I thought that no man should have to make such a pitiful sound.

  “Jeremy, please.” I begged.

  I was completely ashamed at my utter lack of selflessness earlier, and would beat myself up over it as soon as this fiasco was over with. Jeremy was a wonder, and to be able to share even the amount of time that I did with him was something I would never forget. He was quite the experience. But it was time that I let that go, let him go, and allow myself to be rescued.

  As if he read my thoughts, despite his denying that he could, Jeremy’s voice filled the air.

  Cordelia, he is not here to rescue you. He is here with bad intentions.

  Now I’m not a genius, but I’m certainly not dumb, and within the brief seconds that I stole to ponder his statement, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how he might know that, and more importantly, why someone would be on the roof of this elevator with bad intentions.

  I wasn’t anybody important. And I enjoyed that aspect of my life. It was a quiet life, people left me alone, and I went about my business wrapped up in my own little world. So to think that some strange man had risked his life to come down into this building’s elevator shaft, to cause me harm, well, that just didn’t make any sense. So the only logical explanation was that he was really here to help me, and perhaps Jeremy just wasn’t ready to let me go.

  Touching as that was, I couldn’t allow him to kill another human because of it. Because of me.

  “No, Jeremy, he’s here to rescue me, please-“ My sentence was cut short by the rescuer’s fear cracked voice.

  “Hello?” he called out.

  Under normal circumstances, I could tell that he would have a burly voice. Thick
and gruff, I pictured him with a medium length shaggy beard, his equally long and ragged hair poking out from under a hat, its ends pointing in every which way like a blind man might as he tried to pin point a specific sound within a room. Donning the typical attire of a mountain man, he would have gentle brown eyes that would make the rest of his appearance seem hostile in comparison.

  Instead, under these very non-normal circumstances his voice was thin, strained, and quite the opposite of a mountain man.

  As if the voice conflicted man couldn’t hear me, I cupped my hands around my mouth and spoke louder, “Yes! I’m here. I’m okay! Are you here to get me out?”

  The man was quiet a moment, likely thinking about his next hunting trip, whether that be bears or coffee shops was beyond me. I assumed he hadn’t heard me though, so I sucked in a deeper breath to allow myself to speak louder.

  “I’m…yes. Yes. I’m here to get you out.” The man’s voice called back to me. The strain from earlier seemed a little less apparent, and some of the gruffness had scratched through.

  It wasn’t so much his words that I found peculiar, but the tone and the way that he spoke to me. I was reminded of when someone was confused about a situation at hand, but didn’t want anyone else to realize it, so they hid it by way of agreeing. There was a certain air about the way they spoke that gave them away though.

  This man was confused about me being in the elevator, and even more confused about a rescue attempt. Like I said, I’m not a genius, but it wouldn’t take one to put two and two together in this scenario.

  He was not here to rescue me.

  “Hello?” The man called back down to me.

  I shook my head ‘no’. My emotions were bouncing around as much as he was on the roof moments ago. After a few heightened moments of anxiety, confusion, giddiness, and rage, they finally settled down onto relaxed fear. I was fearful of him, and what might happen to him, but I was also trusting in Jeremy and that he had my best interests in mind. And when push came to shove on survival, I was not going to be the one to be pushed. I had to look out for myself, and although that meant condemning a stranger to death, it was suddenly a weight I was willing to carry if that meant I was alive to carry it.

  I closed my eyes gently this time as I absorbed my decision, prayed for forgiveness and hoped it would be quick.

  Jeremy must have seen my change of heart for the elevator suddenly started rising and lowering in jerky movements bringing to mind those grade B movies of a possessed person trying to fight a demonic presence that was taking control of their body.

  It only took a couple of times before the man started bouncing around above like one of those colorful, little rubber balls on concrete. And that’s when the drops and rises of the elevator became severe. Jeremy would let the car fall, jerk it back up twice, let it fall again, bring it back up, only to drop it quickly three more times. There was no pattern. He clearly didn’t want the man being able to guess at what he was going to do.

  The man was no longer able to hold on. I scrunched up my face, and closed my eyes even tighter than before. I found out quickly that thinking I was prepared for it, and actually hearing it happen were polar opposites.

  I fought back screams when I heard the man yelling for help and pleading with me to make it stop. His terrified voice coupled with the slamming of his body against the ceiling moving closer and closer to the edge, was enough to make me start humming my favorite song in a feeble attempt to escape his horror stricken mercy begging.

  I knew what was coming, and it sent chills throughout my body in limb shaking, electric waves.

  My body shakes didn’t stop when the man’s screaming did. It was so abrupt. Piercing my subconscious as I heard it pass the car and continue below me. Cut off only by the mechanical workings at the bottom of the elevator shaft that eagerly raced up to meet the man who tumbled headlong into its cold arms.