Night Shift (Book 1, the Night Shift series)

Chapter Four

Daniel ran through the air, frantically scissoring his legs, trying to get a foothold. In the pitch black his knuckles were slowly being crushed by the folds of the gate. Finger by finger, his hands were becoming numb. This is it, he thought, blindly dangling by one hand, after everything I've gone through, I'm going to die here, all alone. His consciousness began to ebb, and his breathing slowed down. Soon, everything relaxed—even his grip.

"Hold on!" a girl screamed. Fingers wrapped around his wrist. Daniel jerked back to life from her touch and started flailing his legs again. "Give me your other hand," she demanded. Invisible fingers guided his hand to a bar. He grabbed hold and was able to bring his other hand over. "Move your foot to the left...yes, there. Now a little higher."

Daniel did as he was instructed, finding tiny ledges in the blackness. Her breath washed over his face as wisps of her hair brushed his cheeks.

"Damn it!" she said. Something bounced painfully off Daniel's forehead. Seconds later, it hit the bottom of the elevator shaft; his stomach lurched at the calculations. Her grip loosened and tightened a few times, and then she let go of him completely.

"Wait!" he panicked. "Don't leave me!"

Light from the chandeliers suddenly washed down the elevator shaft. Daniel saw how far the drop was. "Oh shit," he said, pressing his cheek against the cold steel, unable to move his head enough to find the next foothold.

The sound of running footsteps grew louder. "Look down, just a bit," she said in a shaky voice. "Use the ledge to the left."

Daniel kept his gaze focused and stretched his leg out to the side. They struggled together, gaining every inch. Pale fingers grabbed him by the shoulders and gave one final pull. They spilled onto the floor, tangled together, breathing heavy with the smell of grease around them.

Daniel stared at the crystal embedded ceiling, waiting for his heart to stop smashing against his chest. She rolled away from his side, but stayed close enough that he could hear her short breaths.

He pushed himself up on his elbows, and took a better look at his rescuer. She sat against the wall, hugging her knees, staring back at him. Her hair fell around her shoulders in long dark waves.

Daniel got to his feet. "Um...thanks. You've got great timing," he laughed nervously, and took a few steps closer. She slid away from him, staying crouched on the floor. Daniel looked down and realized he was covered in grease. "Oh, sorry," he said, backing up. "I'll wash some of this stuff off...okay?" Her silent stare was starting to freak him out. He gave her one last glance, then went into the kitchen and straight to the sink.

He kept his hands under the stream of water; angry red ridges from the iron mesh marked his fingers. When his hands and arms were finally clean, he turned around. She was standing at the doorway, watching him.

He jumped a bit, startled by her sudden appearance. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, hoping he sounded calm and in control. This time she nodded. "If you hadn't come along," he paused and shifted his weight, "I mean, I thought it was only me and Mr. Oliver here tonight, and there was no way-"

"You're new."

Her interruption stumped him. Daniel noticed her white t-shirt was smudged on the shoulders where he must have clung to her. Over top she wore a tight, black tuxedo vest. His eyes trailed down her skinny jeans until they disappeared into pink high tops. He was immediately aware of how scuffed his dad's loafers were, and how greasy he felt. He took a step back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "It's my first night," he finally said.

"Where's your uniform?"

Daniel was confused by her matter-of-fact tone. Maybe she pulled night guards out of the elevator shaft all the time. "Mr. Oliver forgot," he answered.