Trapped in the closet. Eye sockets puckered and seeping, he saw me. In the dark, he saw me. Blind and all seeing like one of the Graeae, who passed an eye between them, he saw and devoured me. Scalpel in his hand, he cast me into the musty sheets. I had no trick like Perseus to escape, no room to move. His clammy hands all over me, his evil countenance oozed into me like his empty orbs. Face sliding off like melting wax, he decomposed, and I turned my head.
Shackleton's putrid mouth grazed my ear, he kissed it, whispering, "I love you Wesley" as the scalpel pierced the nervous pulse point on my neck. The rotting flesh on his fingers left a trail as they slithered down my chest. He hissed my name again as he drove his decaying body into mine.
I screamed.
"Hey, wake up."
Clamping his hand over my mouth, I jumped. Peter jostled my shoulders, his face square in mine.
"We'll be lucky if no one heard you," he rasped. He switched on the light. My eyes darted around trying to find Shackleton hidden in the closet somewhere-- behind the towels, underneath the blankets. Fuck, it was so real.
"You have to put these clothes on fast. We don't have much time." Then he frowned, grasping my elbow. "Come on, get up."
I fell back as I tried to stand. "Are you ok?" he asked.
"Of course I'm not ok. Fuck." I grabbed the clothes he'd thrown at me and began struggling to shove my legs into the stinky janitor coveralls. "Yuck. You could have at least found something clean... like what you've got on."
"They'd notice you then. No one will look at a janitor twice."
Stiff from unknown filth, I pulled the coveralls over my hips.
"Is this some new shade of green?" I asked. Covered in some kind of slop-- ew-w-w, highly gross-s-s. I finished buttoning the front as he handed me an equally grimy hat. I think it once matched the overalls, now it was brown and kaki camouflage. I guess after all I'd been through I shouldn't be too concerned about head lice but...
"I turned the video off in both the lobby and stairwells," he said. "We need to get going. I'll ride down in the elevator with you. I must get off at the lobby. You go to the basement and out the service entrance. As you get off the elevator walk straight down the hall. Turn to the first hall way on the left. You'll see the doors to the service entrance-- they're clearly marked. An old blue beat up Ford truck is out there near the ramp. Get in that. I'm going through the lobby-- I have to check out of the building. Wait in the truck for me. I'll meet you out there."
He reached in his pocket.
"Here, put these on," he said, handing me a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses with the right ear piece duck-taped.
"Do I look like Buddy Holly?" I whispered.
"Maybe if he was a custodian who never bathed."
"I can't help it-- you gave me these righteous threads, and hey, I've been in a bed for weeks with only sponge baths."
Peter grabbed the knob.
"Hmm, sponge baths with Angela. That's not a hardship."
"Well, she's not my type," I said, smelling my armpit. "Why'd you turn off the cameras to the stairwell if we're going out the elevators?" I asked.
"A decoy. They'll think you're going that way."
"Seems like they'd suspect you."
"Believe me, they won't. Long story, I'll tell you after we're out of here." He opened the door. I followed him out, both of us casually walking down the hall. Deal took a parting glance behind him. "How'd you get in that closet anyway? I never unlocked it."
"Someone must have." We turned left down the hallway. No one in sight.
I didn't think I unlocked the door. But now I wondered. This telekinetic power kind of freaked me. Or was it telekinesis? I thought back to what Deal said about this having to do with me not actually moving the object but altering time-- I wondered how that worked. It didn't seem logical.
Peter stopped in front of the elevator.
Going down.
The bell rang, and the door opened. We had company.
The guy didn't look familiar. Dressed in street clothes, I decided he was probably no one important. Deal stepped in before me. He nodded at Peter. Deal leaned in to push the elevator button, he hesitated; our visitor was going his way-- the lobby button was already on. Peter stepped to the back of the elevator next to him. I punched the basement button and stepped in the corner on the other side of the elevator.
The fellow standing next to Peter wrinkled his nose at me. These clothes sure did stink. I was kinda glad I didn't know what from...
"Caught him yet?" The man asked Peter.
I guessed by 'him' he meant me. I looked at him from beneath my hat brim. The guy was balding and about my height. He scratched the shiny spot on the back of his head.
"Not that I've heard. Just came from Grant's room," Peter said, ignoring me; I was a janitor after all, a non-person.
"We told them we'd have trouble if we brought him here. No one ever listens to psychiatrists. I heard he got free from the restraints with his mind. He blinded Shackleton."
Ahh, so this was a peer of Deal's, a fellow psychologist. And judging from the way he was shifting his weight around, he was worried about me being on the loose.
"You hear all sorts of crazy rumors," Peter answered.
"So, you don't believe Grant's got powers?"
From the corner of my eye, I saw Peter smile.
"I didn't say that," he stepped ahead to the center of the elevator, then glanced at me. "Our floor."
My stomach lurched as the elevator stopped, and they both got out. I kept my head down as the doors closed.
Soon I'd be free.
I looked up. Very unsettling hearing people talk about me and my powers. Next stop basement. As the doors opened, I looked out cautiously. Dark with the haze of florescent lights. Dank basement smell. No movement. All clear. Then I stepped into the corridor, acting like I belonged. A house-keeping cart with a mop and wash bucket blocked the isle, and as I elbowed around it, a man yelled: "Get in here and clean this up!"
I ignored him and started to walk away. A man stuck his head out of the door in front of me, shaking his Ice Mountain water bottle at me like some teacher pointing a piece of chalk at student for writing on a desk.
"Hey you lazy fuck, get in here with that bucket. We've been paging hazardous wastes forever."
Fuck, what was I supposed to do now? I rolled the cart ahead of me through the door, trying to look as if I knew what I was doing. I heard the security lock buzz as the door shut behind me.
I looked at the floor. Just a couple of test tubes. Not like I hadn't mopped before, but hazardous waste? I'd better clean it up fast and get out of here.
The Ice Mountain man had issues. Besides needing to visit a dentist, he had an anger management problem. His face was red, and he was chewing the inside of his mouth.
"Dumb fucking janitors. Lazy as hell. Look at that trash over there--" He trust the water bottle by my face, just missing my nose. The trash can was pretty full. He uncapped the bottle and gulped down the rest of the water. He took it from his lips and grimaced. "What the fuck you lookin' at?" I jumped back as he kicked at me, just missing my shin.
"Stupid retard. Over here," and he swung his shoe toward the mess on the floor. "Clean it up. Christ, you'd think we were asking you to perform brain surgery!" He slammed the empty water bottle down on the shelf next to him. The shelf rattled. If he didn't stop, I'd have more to clean up.
The asshole eyed me with contempt for a few more seconds then turned and stomped off. I could walk away, but I he'd hear me go out the door--probably swagger after me if I didn't clean this up-- maybe kick at me again. Didn't need to call anymore attention to myself. Someone might recognize me.
