#2 In The Dark

Chap. 4_reflexes and punctured intestines?

When you hear gunshots close to you, there's a few things you do naturally, as a reflex action. One is that you dive to the floor, taking cover from any shots that could be heading your way. Two is that you make a noise. Any noise you like, but everyone will either range from a high-pitched scream, to a deep outwards breath. It just happens. And thirdly, you try and take up as little space as possible. You assume the foetal position, or at least, curl up into some sort of ball-shaped mass of quivering wreckage.

Now when this happens in a restaurant, which, to be frank, doesn't happen that often, diving to the floor and curling up is particularly difficult, especially considering you're most likely to be sat at a table, with others to the side and opposite you. Both the tables and the others get in the way, so it all turns into a greater terrifying commotion than it already is. And if, by chance, you're walking between the tables, either going to the bathroom or paying the bill for example, the people sat at the tables are closer the ground, meaning they'll throw themselves downwards quicker, upsetting the tables (and their dining companions), pushing them right into your path. Therefore, you're stuck there trying to find a bit of floor that isn't covered by tables, contents of tables, food, people, or the gunman. And when this all happens in the dark, it can only be described as chaos.

So when the darkness arrived in the Hotel Felix's eatery, there was a couple of seconds of complete pandemonium and delirium from its occupants, and as the gunshots finally faded away, finally so did the sounds of panic.

Because after the screams and scrabbling to try and find safety, every sensible person does another similar thing. They think. They have that moment where their best memories flash before their eyes. And sometimes the moments that they regret do too. And some people pray. And some people just quiver in fear, because their life - and possibly the life of a loved one – is in danger. A completely eerie silence lies over the room like a blanket - the quiet after the storm. And it's deafening.

Which is why it's the perfect time to say something. Because everything's quiet, and you can get people's attention. At least, that's what someone was thinking.

Feedback blared out through the speakers in the corners of the restaurant. The silky jazz that had skirted people's conversations had stopped with the lights. And, in fact, all the electricity had gone. Digital clocks had blinkered out of vision and the small heaters by the doors had stopped the singular tune. It was as if they'd been cut off from everything. Even humanity.

The feedback suddenly stopped its ear-splitting melody and gave way to a voice. A rasp, husky voice that cleared its throat before beginning to speak in a monotone to the scared and silent.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," it started, roughly, "Welcome to Hotel Felix. As you most probably know, this is one of Cambridge's high quality hotels and its name can be recognised for miles around. What you most probably didn't know, however, is the fact that, until 1940, this used to be a secret holding facility for the war cabinet. They would meet here in times of intense conflict, so that no enemies could find them. And for safety, the entire building was fit with, at the time, state-of-the-art security systems. The shutters, for example, that you probably don't see at the moment, are made of hard-cast tool steel, six-foot thick and virtually impenetrable. But there's another brilliant advantage to all this. The shutters were designed with the small film of material running down the core of the metal. This film blocked radio waves, the most complex radio waves of the time. Now we've evolved as a nation since then. But those complex signals are the exact signals that allow your phones to text and have wireless internet. Couple that with our disconnection of the electricity to the building, and you are virtually blocked off from the rest of the world. The telephone wires have been cut, and the gas has been turned off. It's ironic, isn't it? This place was designed to be a stronghold for attacks from outside. Now, you're so blocked from the outside that this is now a prison."