Retrospect

Eleven

A panic attack. I was almost sure that's what I was having when those elevator doors slid shut. My heart was knocking against my ribs and suddenly everything seemed so close, so hot, a pressure squeezing my chest. Stay calm. You can do this. Stay. Calm. I closed my eyes, hoping it'd be enough to ward off this crushing feeling. I would probably kill Miles if I got out of this alive. He actually knew what to look for, yet he had pushed me in the elevator and sent me up to the unknown.

I clutched my bag close to me, sticking the device inside of it. My eyes darted around the elevator as little dinging noises sounded from the walls, indicating that I was passing each level. A low humming vibrated the cramped, white box I was in and before I knew it, I gulped once just before the elevator doors revealed my demise. Bright light flooded out all at once, blinding me for a second until I could finally see a long, silver hallway that stretched in front of me. I was expecting to see workers everywhere on this floor, but it was completely quiet which I found eerie and suspicious. It was worse that there weren't any workers as far as I could see. I had no idea where they'd pop out from.

Cautiously, I crept out from the safety of the elevator. I wished I had asked Miles for that Sleep Spray when I had the chance. It would've definitely come in handy right then. I couldn't help but flinch whenever I snuck by each door in the hall.

I stuck my hand into my bag and took my pocket knife out. Holding onto it tightly, my knuckles turned white as my fingers pressed against the handle. I stepped lightly across the smooth, shiny floor, my dull reflection staring up at me, following my every move. I was still wearing my bird mask, but it was better than having workers know where Cory Cavey was last, that she still had the device, and that she was fully capable of getting into their buildings.

While I was walking and choosing a door to go through, I heard footsteps and a muffled conversation coming from a room in front of me. A beep sounded from the door, leaving me no choice but to quickly duck into the nearest room and pray no one would find me. I hid myself in the room to my left which luckily turned out to be small and pitch black, a closet of some sort. The harsh light from the hall seeped in below the door and the people passing by could be heard clearly.

They said something about the elevator and a trespasser as their long shadows ambled by, footsteps echoing off the silver walls. I heard the elevator beep. Then I held my breath, heart pounding in my ears. Waiting a moment, I adjusted my grip on my knife and cautiously opened the door so I could peek outside. It was clear. Or so it seemed for now.

Swiftly slipping through the cracked door, I made my way back into the hallway. I headed for the door the two people had just come out of, hoping this folder I was looking for would be there. Miles had sent me to this floor, so it had to be around somewhere.

Approaching the door, I noticed a camera in the corner of the hall. From where I was standing, it hadn't seen me yet, but if I got any closer, I'd be in deep trouble. It would notify anybody in this building that I was here.

The least I could do was look the part of someone who belonged here. I grabbed the worker coat from my bag, quickly swinging it around and putting it on. I kept my hood up so my hair would be concealed from view, and my bird mask was practically plastered to my face. For all the workers knew, I could've just arrived from one of the festivals on the streets and had picked up the mask. I didn't dare look up at the camera as I walked over to the door confidently, pretending to be unafraid.

The door had a scanner attached to it like the elevator had and I took out the device from my bag. I held it up and it flashed red twice before the door whooshed open. The camera sat up in the corner, monitoring my every move as I entered from the hallway into a dim and large computer-packed room. Workers spoke to each other near the back and some were sitting at the computers, typing furiously on the projected keys on the desks. I faced away from them, pretending to look at a stack of papers on a desk near the door. This gave me time to figure out what exactly I was here for.