Guilt By Degrees

80

The garage-style door to the main entrance, which was corrugated metal, had slammed down, shutting us in. Bailey dropped the box outside the elevator. The hallway to the main door was lit, but the corridor that ran perpendicular was completely dark. We’d have to cross that corridor to get to the entrance. I strained my eyes to see as far as I could, but the darkness was so total, it was like staring into a well.

I pulled out my.38 and held it in front of me, and Bailey held her.44 down by her side. Slowly, my body tensed for ambush, we moved toward the metal door. When we reached the edge of the darkened corridor, we stopped and looked from right to left. But it was impossible to see anything in the inky blackness.

Bailey mouthed, On three.

I nodded. She held out her fingers. One. Two. Three.

We ran for the entrance. I’d misgauged the distance, and my adrenaline had given me more speed than there was space. I flew across the width of the dark corridor and hurtled straight into the metal door. It would’ve been funny-except I was sure it would be the last joke we ever shared. I quickly searched the door for a handle. There wasn’t one.

“It’s probably automated,” Bailey said.

I looked around. I didn’t know if there was another exit. The only possibility of finding one was to venture blindly down the corridor of inky blackness. No, gracias.

“We need to make some noise,” Bailey said.

We began to bang on the door and yell, “Hey! We’re in here!”

As we were shouting and pounding, I kept anticipating the feeling of a knife in my back or the searing heat of a bullet as it ripped through my flesh. What worried me most was that with all the racket we were making, we wouldn’t be able to hear if someone was coming up behind us. I motioned to Bailey to stop and looked around.

We waited in silence for a few moments. I tried to get my breathing under control, but my racing pulse made it nearly impossible. The feeling of impending danger was physically painful.

Seconds later, the door slid open.

“Sorry,” Gary said, looking upset and embarrassed. “Someone leaned on the panel out here and shut the thing by accident.”

I was so light-headed with relief I thought I’d faint.

“You okay?” he asked, looking at us closely.

“Fine,” Bailey replied.

“All good,” I said, strolling out with as much nonchalance as my wobbly knees would allow. Whatever you do, I told myself, don’t throw up.

“Then what’s with the firepower?” he asked, nodding toward the guns in our hands.

“Oh,” I said. “Just comparing.”

“She’s thinking about getting a Glock,” Bailey said.

We got into Bailey’s car and Gary got into his, which was parked a few feet ahead. Bailey rolled down the window.

“Thanks for everything,” she called out.

He waved to her and we followed him to the exit, where he punched in the code. The gate opened and we rolled out, inches behind him.

Bailey headed toward the freeway.

“Olives on the side, so there’s more room for the important stuff,” I said.

She nodded and punched the accelerator.