Connection

Chapter Thirty-Two: Cliff

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Chapter Thirty-Two: Cliff

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The walk was uneventful, but that didn't prevent his heart from beating madly. His palms sweat and he had to curl his hands into fists to prevent them from shaking.

Cliff's body was working on its own accord. The startling emptiness hadn't gone away and was slowly increasing as he moved. The further they moved down the hallway, the harder it was for him to walk. The only thing that sustained him was that this had to be a sign that this was the correct way to go. This had to mean he was close.

The other Dignitaries with him didn't notice his anxiety or pain; they walked on in their own heads. No one said a word. Fortunately, there were only a few separate hallways to turn down, so they moved in unison, no one disagreeing with another.

In fact, everything had gone completely smoothly until they reached another split in the hallway. This time, they had three options and none of them were dead ends. Grez had warned him they may have added new hallways, but he should continue straight.

"Why don't we split up," he suggested before any of them could make any other ideas. "I'll go straight, you can go left and you'll go to the right."

The woman who had been skeptical of Cliff earlier paused at his order then moved down her hallway.

"If you find anything, call before you do anything," she said and handed both Cliff and the male Dignitary a large button. "It'll buzz when you press it."

Without a glance back, Cliff walked down the hallway he'd assigned himself. The emptiness threatened to overwhelm him once more as he walked further down it. He came to the end of the first leg and was about to make a turn when he heard talking.

". . . right now. I just went in the room. I haven't seen them use that old machine in a while."

"I can't imagine what that poor girl is going through. At least it'll all be for a good cause in the end," a man answered.

They were coming closer toward Cliff and he knew he had to hide, but he hadn't found any convenient closets or rooms to dodge into.

He looked around him frantically. A small alcove stood in the wall with a water fountain in the center. Every fiber in Cliff's body steered him away from it, begging him to find a genuine hiding spot, but he pushed himself forward.

He sipped his first gulp of water as the strangers turned into the hallway. Their conversation continued. Fortunately for him, it seemed no one here wore lab coats or uniforms.

"I don't know how all of this will turn out, but it'd sure be a shame if she thought what happened was still bad."

So they were all deranged here. Cliff only hoped these sick people didn't catch him.

They passed him without a second glance and he heaved a sigh of relief as he aired out his shirt.

That had been close; a little too close for his liking, but he was almost there. He couldn't explain how, but he was positive that he was very close now.

As they turned into another room, Cliff picked his head up and made his way to the end of the hallway before turning to the right; where the voices came from. If they had been speaking about Charlotte--which seemed astronomically lucky, but the most logical explanation for the conversation he'd overheard--then this room must be somewhere in this hallway.

He wandered down it and his eyes connected with a rusted door at the end of the hallway and immediately knew this was it. He stumbled toward it, the emptiness overtaking him in a way that made his legs too weak to move. He fell to the ground and pulled himself along it.