Chapter Three
Trevor's ride in the lift lasted only two minutes. To Trevor, it felt more like an eternity. All around him, the warning lights flashed, and the loudspeakers wailed. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed himself against a wall, and prayed that he would make it out alive.
Something rocked the lift, making it shutter, caused Trevor to lose his balance and fall to the floor. His dark hair was slick with sweat and he brushed it absently away from his face. He was panting heavily as the lift was again rocked, and then there was an explosion.
A burst of fire spilled into the lift, blasting the door wide open, making Trevor's flesh burn. And through it all, the lift continued upward. The door had not shut after it had been torn open by the blast, and so Trevor backed himself into a corner, hoping that he wouldn't tumble toward that open mouth.
Finally, the lift came to a halt, and Trevor leaped through to opening and tumbled to the floor of Level 1. He was almost to the top. If he just kept going...
Just then, the cables of the lift screeched loudly and tore loose from the top of the metal box. Trevor stared in horror as the lift disappeared from sight.
Jesus Christ! he thought. I could have been IN there. He didn't stick around long enough to hear it crash to the bottom, sixteen levels down.
"You now have twelve minutes to reach minimum safe distance," the speakers droned again.
Everything that had happened in the past week was putting a real hard strain on Trevor's brain. It was as if everything was tumbling down on him at once. He started up the flight of stairs which would take him to the outside, and far away.
As he climbed, he found himself thinking of that night in the pub when he and Donald had gotten drunk. That was the night that had changed Trevor Avery's life forever.