What Goes Up

by SpunSilk

Part 3


As the candle was burning at half-height, the electric lights blinked out suddenly. Our eyes locked. The stranger's eyes went narrow and he slowly scanned the dim elevator. The candle gave its dim but steady light.

"How many more systems failures can we have tonight?!" I fumed. "This is crazy. Nobody answers the phone, the elevator car is stuck, and now once your candle burns out, we'll be in the bloody dark!"

"We'll be in something bloodier than that..."

"Maybe if we open the top of the car... you could do like on Mission Impossible–"

He shook his head. "Expose myself? No, thank you. I'm pretty sure this metal box is the only reason I'm still alive right now." He glanced up again to the ceiling. "Uh-oh."

I glanced up, too. All four corners were oddly white. He was on his feet in a flash, feeling the walls up high. He jerked his hands back, and glanced at the candle, back to the ceiling corners, and swore under his breath.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Condensation. It's frost."

"That's impossible. It's not that cold in here."

"Be patient, it's coming," he answered, distracted. "He's a clever cuss. He's found another way, not a frontal-attack; he can slip this in from the sides... Different means to the same end..." The whitish patches were growing in size.

"The end being...?"

"He wants my backside."

I shook my head. I wasn't about to endorse his mental delusions. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation..."

He looked at me without answering for a few beats. "Sure. Because everything in the world can be explained in simple, reasonable ways, right?" He sounded bitter. "Nice world you live in."

"The air-conditioning is on the fritz as well." I proposed.

"Uh-huh."

The temperature actually did start to fall, just like he had predicted. First it was too cool. Soon after, it felt like a refrigerator in the elevator. This made no sense at all. Even if the air-conditioner was on full bore, it wouldn't be built with the compressor capable of hitting this temperature. I was soon shivering. I sat on the floor, miserable, and wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to conserve as much heat as possible.

He looked up at me and from his book (where he had been flipping pages with renewed vigor) and shook his head. He got up, removed his suit-coat, and to my surprise placed it on my shoulders. "No," I chattered, "You need it..."

"Now who's unreasonable? A scrawny thing like yourself will chill out long before I will." He pushed the hat onto my head as well, but that was more of a gesture than any actual insulation.

I shrugged into the too-large coat, drinking in the body warmth it held for a short time, and pulled it tight one and a half times around me. The walls were white nearly a quarter the way down to the floor by now, and they were cold. I moved closer to the center of the car to warm my hands over the small candle flame.

"Look, I'm really sorry about this," he said. I looked up at him. He looked honestly pained. "This didn't need to involve you." He said, sadly. "You're what they call...mm... collateral damage." He clenched his jaw to silence the chattering that was starting.

"You s-sound like you're at war."

"Yeah," he said without elaboration. "I should have grabbed a different elevator... You could be home by now safe and sound... I'm sorry." He moved in to avoid the wall as well. The frost line was just inches away from the floor by now.

My frazzled mind did not want to accept what my skin was telling it. I chattered, "It's the temperature of a freezer in here! This makes no sense at all!"

"Welcome to my world." he shivered, and he returned his attention to the dusty book.