Hold The Door, Please | ONC 2022

5. Floor: 38

Haylie

"Well that's not good," Will murmurs.

Everyone looks around at each other, exchanging concerned and nervous frowns. No one seems to know what to do.

If only elevator drills were as common as fire and earthquake drills.

I try pressing buttons on the, now unlit, panel, but it seems to be dead. My heart begins to pound and anxiety sinks deep into my gut. I thought being late to my interview was bad enough, but dying in this tiny box with a bunch of strangers? I take out my phone to make a call, but rough static suddenly comes from the speakers. We manage to make out a voice.

"Sorry for the scare folks, just a minor issue. We'll send someone over to help get you out soon."

Everyone waits in a tense, uncomfortable silence as we stand in the still elevator. It eerily resembles a horror movie scene. The lights flicker every once in a while, and there's a faint squeaking noise coming from above and a low rumbling from below.

Strangely enough, the elderly woman to my left looks as calm as ever. She chuckles and gives my arm a gentle pat when she notices me gawking at her.

"During my first year here, there was a fire that destroyed the fourth floor. The fire blocked all of the fire escapes, and it was rapidly closing in on us," she actually laughs a little as she reminisces.

I stare at her in disbelief.

"We tied our clothes together to make a rope and managed to climb out the window," she says with a proud grin. "It's going to take a lot more than a jammed elevator to scare me."

Now that she mentions it, I vaguely remember coming across an image of an old newspaper clipping from the 70's. On the cover was a photo of a group of people in their underwear, proudly smiling at the camera, while firefighters in the background were trying to extinguish the burning building. 

"You never fail to amaze me, Mabel," Will laughs softly and shakes his head. He gives her a sweet, endearing smile that makes me feel weirdly warm and fuzzy inside. I've always known I have a bit of a weak spot for nice smiles.

We all jump when a metal bar is suddenly jammed through the doors with a sharp screech. Some sort of warning would've been nice. Someone grunts as they push the bar to the side and pry the doors open.

"Hey there," a man in a neon orange safety vest greets us with a friendly smile once the doors have been forced open. "Well, I have good news and bad news. Good news, you're safe. Bad news, both elevators are going to be under maintenance for a little bit."

Will frowns and drags his hand through his hair. "How long is a bit?"

"Probably half an hour or so," the man says with an apologetic smile.

There's a murmur of frustrated groans and sighs as we file out of the elevator. We step out into what seems to be a large break room – either the third or fourth one I've seen now. Most people head for the stairs; others take out their laptops and sit down on the various sofas and chairs and immediately begin to work.

Without any delay, I take out my phone and check my email. Fortunately, the CFO's phone number is in her email signature. My nervous, shaky hands fumble with my phone as I hastily call her.

"Hello?"

"Hi Ms. Stone, this is Haylie Finn. I had an interview scheduled with you for eight thirty, I'm so sorry I'm late." I glance at my watch and have to stop myself from audibly groaning, it's already eight forty five.