"Angel! Angel!!!"
Kate yelled at the walls as she took the stairs two by two, but there was no reply.
"Angel! Charles! Anybody! She's heading for the top floor!"
As she climbed higher, the genteel shabbiness of the inhabited floors gave way to real squalor. Festoons of peeling wallpaper hung on the damper walls, and cirrus clouds of mould coated the ceiling. More than once, Kate's solid, LAPD-style boot landing heavily caused a tear to appear in the rotting rust brown of the once vivid silk carpet, and a sinister scurrying started in the sodden wainscot as she passed, as smaller, furrier inhabitants of the hotel were disturbed.
The stairs kept appearing. A flight of twelve climbing northwards, followed by four pointing to the east, a turn into musty landing, four steps to the west, and the whole cycle began again. After several minutes of running in ever decreasing rectangles, Kate arrived at the top floor. There were four doors, all locked, and no-one in the corridor. At one end the lift doors were closed and motionless, and at the other was a large picture window.
Before she could catch her breath, the lift doors creaked open.
Gunn stepped out.
"Is she here?"
Kate shook her head. "All locked up. Maybe she heard me and doubled back."
"No way." Gunn shook his head. "The lift went to the top and then straight down to us. She wasn't in it. Angel's checking the stairs."
"I just came up the staircase." Kate started feeling the walls.
Gunn made a disgusted noise.
"Then, where in God's name is she?"
Kate looked at the lift, and then exclaimed, "This can't be the top floor. There must be more above - else where's the rest of the lift shaft? There have to be weights and machinery, and ... stuff."
Gunn followed Kate's gaze upwards, and saw a square hole in the ceiling. It was black, leading to some unlit region above. She slapped his shoulder to gain his attention.
"A loft! I'm going up."
Gunn laughed. "The hell you are. I'm the one that's going up."
"I can't lift you. You can lift me. We can't wait for Angel. C'mon ..."
She linked her fingers together to indicate that Gunn should do the same, and when he complied, placed a foot into the stirrup of his hands. Their eyes locked briefly, and she smiled.
"On a count of three. Give me as much lift as you can."
As Angel rounded the last bend, he could see Gunn bent over and Kate in front of him.
"One!"
At the same time, he could see a pair of slender legs poking out of the ceiling.
"Two!"
Intending to yell "Look out!", Angel opened his mouth, and was silenced by a sudden stifling attack of wheezing. As he doubled over to suck in more air, Cordelia dropped from the ceiling onto the pair below. Bodies scattered, but she was the first to recover, and locking a firm arm around Kate's neck, dragged her away down the corridor.
"Angel!"
At once, an eddy of screaming came from the basement of the hotel. Resonating in the hollow walls, the screams echoed upwards until their full force buffeted past Angel and Gunn, and raced for Cordelia.
"ACUM!"
Angel fought to ignore the pain in his chest. He looked up and saw the two women silhouetted against the window. Beyond, the roof lay steaming gently in the morning sun, sloping down to the tangle of struts and wires that displayed the hotel's name in neon to the population of Los Angeles.
Kate was in trouble. Cordelia's hands gripped her neck, and he could sense her struggles becoming weaker through tiredness and lack of oxygen. The very breath of life was being forced out of her. There was no point in trying to loosen those hands by force; he knew he would not now be strong enough. Instead, he ran; he launched himself at Cordy and tried to fell her with the weight of his body.
It worked too well. Cordy lost her balance and tumbled through the brittle window frame, carrying Kate and Angel with her and landing with a glittering smack on the hot leaden roof.