Panic Room: The Novel

Chapter Two

The Same House, Two weeks later

Sarah stacked the last crate onto a pile of about three. She sighed and kicked off her shoes, lying down on the tiled floor, even with all her energy and athletic personality, she was exhausted. Moving really took the best out of a person.

Meg walked into the foyer and noticed Sarah on the floor. Her heart hammered in her chest. She went straight into panic mode.

"Oh my god. Sarah are you okay? Can you hear me?" She ran to her daughter's side.

Sarah sat up. "Mom, I'm fine. Stop fussing. I was just resting, okay?" She sounded agitated, as if she got this all the time.

Meg knelt on the floor. "Sorry, you scared me, that's all, I thought you'd…"

Sarah cut across her, "Yeah, well I hadn't." She lay back on the floor.

Meg hesitated, and then she lay down next to her. They stared at the ceiling, too tired to speak, surrounded by moving boxes, crates and packing cases.

Finally Sarah broke the silence. "I'm starving." She stated, simply.

Meg sat up and raised her cell phone to her ear.

"The battery's dead." She stated, lowering her hand.

Sarah groaned, always the pessimist. "What are we going to eat?"

Meg thought over the possibilities. "Well, I could cook something…" She secretly hoped Sarah wouldn't pick this option; she really could not be bothered to cook. "…Or we could get a take out?"

"579 3000" was Sarah's only response.

Meg stood at the phone in the kitchen, the receiver held in one hand. "Come on, come on…" She muttered to herself, upstairs, on the floor above, Sarah was bouncing a basket ball.

"Yes!" Meg called up to her daughter, "Hey, I've hooked up the phone!"

Sarah caught her ball, "Good for you Mom! The crowd goes wild!" She said the last part under her breath with immense sarcasm.

Meg began punching numbers into the handset, "5…7…9…"

"3000." Sarah called down.

The phone rang twice, and then someone picked up. "Perry's Pizza Delivery, please hold…"

Night had fallen by the time the pizza had arrived. They sat at an island in the kitchen and ate it straight from the box with their fingers.

Sarah's hand hovered over the last slice, she looked at Meg.

"Go ahead." Sarah took the slice and chewed slowly, savouring every mouthful.

"I should've fixed up something special as it's our first night." Meg said, apologetically.

"I like pizza," Sarah stated, truthfully. She poured Coca Cola into a tumbler glass.

"Hey, that's enough." Meg told her, and Sarah put down the can and picked up the half full glass.

Meg sipped her wine steadily, tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Sarah noticed. Meg looked at her, "I'm human, what do you expect me to do? Hide it?"

Sarah looked away, went back to her pizza, unable to think up a suitable reply.

"Fuck him." She said, eventually. Coarse words coming from an eleven year old.

"Don't." Was all Meg said.

"Fuck her too."

"I agree, but don't." She poured out more Coke for her daughter.

Sarah nodded her at her, "Thanks." Meg poured herself more wine. Sarah's eyes watched her intently as the wine sloshed into the glass.

Sarah sat crossed legged on her single bed. Her short hair newly washed and wrapped in a towel. She was wearing her pyjamas.

"Don't you think this place has too many stairs?" She asked her mother.

"Well you didn't carry anything up them." Meg stated, taking a stuffed animal from Sarah's bed and moving it onto the fitted floor-to-ceiling shelving unit.

"You know," Sarah carried on, "you never did ask me what I thought of this house."

"Only because I didn't want you to tell me you hated it." Meg answered.

"I liked our old house." She stated.

"So did I." Meg replied. She changed subjects to avoid talking about her ex-husband. "Hey, you know what I was thinking?" She didn't give Sarah enough time to answer. "I was thinking we could stencil the whole bookcase. We could cut the stencils and do it ourselves."

"Go ahead." Sarah said, unenthusiastically.

Meg walked across the room and sifted through a cardboard box. "I've got to set up that tour of your new school."

"Dad already did it." Sarah said, from the bed. "I'm going with him on Sunday."

"Oh yeah?" Meg carried on looking through the box.

"So I'll just take a cab and meet him there."

Meg stopped rummaging through the box and straightened up, turning to face her daughter. "Is that what he said?"

"Isn't that what's so great about Manhattan, you don't have to drive me everywhere?"

"I'll ride with you." Meg said, walking over to the bed.

Sarah uncrossed her legs and crawled to the head of the bed, sliding under the covers. "Why d'you bring me here if you won't let me go anywhere on my own?"

"That's it. I quit. I'm not fighting with you till tomorrow." She bent down and opened a mini fridge, pulled out a bottle of water and placed it on the bedside unit. She unwrapped the towel from Sarah's hair, and gently brushed several strands from her eyes. "You know, it's disgusting how much I love you."

Sarah looked up at her mother. "Tell me about it."

Meg kissed her forehead and walked to the door. But Sarah called out. "Mom?"

Meg turned round, "Yeah?"

"It's too dark." Sarah said.

Meg went to Sarah's walk in closet and switched on the light, pulling the door shut so only a sliver of light escaped into the room. "That better?" She asked on her way to the door.

"Yep." Was the only reply she earned.

After she'd said goodnight to Sarah, Meg set about moving some of her possessions from cardboard boxes, into her bedroom. She picked up a box from a pile just outside the elevator, and carried it down the hall. A thunder clap made her jump. She looked up at the glass dome set into the roof. Rain hammered down, echoing through the house. Meg shuddered, and started down the stairs.

She sat in her room, her back against the wall, next to a stack of boxes. She used one hand to unpack the nearest box, and another to hold her wine glass. She placed the articles on the floor beside her. A phone charger and several framed photographs of Sarah as a baby.

When she'd emptied the box she reached under the bed to plug in the phone charger. She put the charger on the cabinet and slotted her mobile into it. It gave a satisfactory beep as it started charging.

Then she set about making up the bed. Shaking out the sheet and folding it over the mattress. In the corner, the door to the panic room was open. Several cushions and a blanket were scattered inside, blocking the motion sensor.

Having made the bed, Meg yawned and decided it was time she relaxed.

She lay back in the bath. The master bathroom sure was big. She reached over the side for her half full glass of wine. She sipped it, tears trickling down her face and splashing into the bath water. She finished her glass and reached for the bottle. She refilled it, again. As if drinking her problems away were a solution.

Dressed in a sleeveless T-Shirt and loose fitting trousers, Meg stood next to the security panel, situated on the wall in her bedroom. She was frustrated and muttered to herself, slurring slightly, as she stabbed at buttons, checked the manual held in her right hand, stabbed more buttons, cursed under her breath and then started over.

"Bypass non-ready zones…shunt, enter, zone number…" She tried it, pushed various buttons, but the alarm panel just beeped at her disapprovingly. She'd made yet another mistake. "Oops." She sighed, and sat down on the floor, her back against the wall. Now she was serious about figuring the instructions.

"Bypass non-ready zones…ah, shunt, enter zone number, and shunt again." Behind her, in the panic room, the monitors flicked on, each one showing a different view of the house. She sighed again. She'd figure out how to turn those off in the morning. She climbed into her bed…

Downstairs; on the ground floor, a van pulled up outside. You could just about make out three figures as they stepped out. Suddenly a large black man leaned up against the barred window, peering in.

Back in Meg's room the digital clock displayed the time: 1.26. The six flicked to a seven, and Meg rolled over, her arms stretched out over the bed. A bed, that until recently, she had shared. Her empty wineglass stood on the floor, beside the bed. It looked like she was in for a heavy alcoholic fitful sleep. So she wasn't aware of the goings on, two floors below…

The man had disappeared from the window and had mage his way to the door. He inserted a key into the lock, but no matter how hard he tried it wouldn't turn. He gave up, and walked back past the window and muttered something to another man.

The French doors rattled, but the key wouldn't turn in that lock either. He reached up and pulled down a ladder. The fire escape. He began to climb…

The rain still hammered on the glass dome. A silhouette walked slowly around it, disappearing from view. Along the hall, in a box room that was probably used for storage, the man has gained access to the house via a sky light. He jumped silently to the floor, and began to walk down the corridor. He was halfway down the stairs when something caught his eye. He tilted his head and blinked. The bathroom door was ajar, and plugged in close to the floor, was a glowing night light. In the shape of a girls head.