Black Balloon

Chapter 4

"Locked."

I breathed a sigh of relief assuming that would be the end of it. But without warning, Jonah reared back and gave the door a sturdy kick as hard as he could. It didn't budge. Thank god.

"Are you out of your mind, dude? What the fuck?" I asked.

"There's no one here. Who cares? Have you got anything in your backpack? A crow bar or something," he replied.

"No."

"Fuck."

He had that look again. Those obsessed, glazed over eyes, the wolf locking onto its prey. It was this or nothing now. He'd either break it down or die trying. Jonah didn't give up easily when he'd put his mind to something.

"Wait here," he said as he jogged off down the hallway.

The sound of his footsteps faded into the distance. A few minutes later the subtle patter of steps gradually returned and Jonah was carrying a rock the size of a basketball.

"Oh Jesus Christ..."I muttered.

Without seeming to notice my anxiety or care, he slammed the rock into the window. It struck hard dead center but left only a small white scratch where it had impacted. He picked it up and slammed it again, this time leaving a few small fractures radiating from the impact point in a circular spiderweb pattern. The glass was thick. He hit it again, and again, and several more times while I watched nervously. With one last mighty blow the glass finally gave way. Broken shards were suspended from the wires embedded within.

"Hand me your Leatherman," he said to Priscilla.

She retrieved the tool from her pack and Jonah began meticulously snipping the wires one by one until he was able to reach his arm through the window. But it wasn't long enough to grab the handle.

"I'm too short. You try."

I apprehensively walked up to the door and picked the few remaining shards of glass out of the window frame before reaching my lanky arm through the hole. I fumbled around until finding the door handle. I was hoping it would be keyed on both ends, the perfect excuse to abandon this fool's errand. But no such luck. It unlocked easily and I pulled it open. Jonah hesitated, uncharacteristic of his usual cock-first, act now/think later style. He investigated beyond the door with his flashlight, shining the beam hither and thither until deciding it was safe to pass. He stepped cautiously through the door and with trepidation we followed.

Beyond the door was an array of heavy metal desks and filing cabinets. All were covered in thick layers of dust. There was a coffee cup and a stapler sitting on one of them. Beside another stood a potted plant that had long since gone to plant heaven; a stick now jutted from an otherwise empty pot of dirt.

"Hello?!" Jonah shouted. "Anybody home?!"

My first thought was how crazy would it be if someone answered him? But the only response was his own echo.

"Hellloooo?! Knock knock," he yelled.

"Echo!" shouted Priscilla into the void, and her words obeyed.

Jonah cautiously tiptoed further into the room, continually swinging his light to and fro. I followed closely behind him, ready with a balled-up fist for any C.H.U.D.s or sewer mutants that may come rushing from the shadows. There was a row of filing cabinets along the wall and a couple of rolling office chairs sitting randomly about. On top of one desk was an antique typewriter and an ashtray containing discarded cigarette butts. As we explored, it became clear that we were standing in a time-capsule, some ancient office space abandoned decades ago that had sat here untouched ever since. It looked like any 1960s-era workspace, but why was it buried beneath the California desert? My excitement blended with anxiety, causing my heart to race for both reasons. I had to admit that it really was pretty goddamn cool, whatever it was that we had found.