Catching Fire – Chapter 1
Seline Marchand was punching her finger at her phone, irritated and running late, when the floor dropped out from below her.
Her mouth opened to scream, but the screeching sound wasn’t her own voice, but the squeal of brakes on metal, grinding the falling box to a stop.
Her ankle turned as her heels didn’t take the sudden drop and jolt very well, and she dropped her phone as her heartrate cranked up high enough to make her think it would burst out of her chest. Her breathing was heavy from being startled and her hand had instinctually grasped at the handrail, even though it was basically useless.
“Are you okay?” The tall, dark-skinned man beside her was reaching out, but she waved him away.
With two steadying breaths, she assured herself the elevator had come to a stop. She reached down to scoop up her phone, grateful the face hadn’t cracked and that it appeared intact.
She tapped at the screen.
No service.
Seline wanted to laugh—the hysterical kind of laughter, not the happy kind.
She’d been pissed at the way her day was going before she stepped into the elevator. Having it drop suddenly, then screech to a grinding halt had been the icing on top.
She was huffing out a breath when she felt her heart lurch again. She noticed her body jerk in response before she even realized the floor was missing and she was falling again.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her fists clenched, one around the handrail and another on the phone this time as the floor slammed back up at her, the horrifying squeal signaling that the brakes had once again done their job.
But damn if she wasn’t going to pass out from being startled to death.
This could not be happening. Not now!
Once again, the man made a gesture toward her. He was wearing firefighting flame-retardant pants, his red suspenders hanging loose, his broad capable hands at the ready to help her. He was probably used to people needing his help. But she didn’t.
With a deep breath that surely came out more as an irritated sigh, Seline tried to relax her hands, to not make fists and howl at the unfairness. She checked the phone again, hoping to catch a signal and call her department chair and let the woman know that she would likely be late to the first meeting of the semester—for the first meeting Seline was supposed to attend as a tenure-track professor. Pouah!
She was mad enough to spit nails and trying not to let the hunky firefighter next to her know it. The signal was still dead. Though she couldn’t call out, she could still clearly read the warnings her friend Maggie had texted right before the elevator doors closed.
—I’m still on for our sleepover tonight, but I wanted to warn you. Just got word that the Blue River Killer struck again.
— Clearly, FBI was wrong. Seline, this victim was blond haired and blue eyed! Like you. Please, be careful.
At least she was safe from the killer in here. As long as the hunky firefighter wasn’t the killer. She’d only been in Nebraska for five years, but that was long enough to know that, despite being blond-haired and blue-eyed, she didn’t really fit the Blue River Killer’s profile. He took people from clubs and bars and parties, not universities or chem labs … and certainly not elevators.
“Are you okay?” The strapping firefighter was reaching out a hand as though to steady her again, but she waved him off as politely as she could. Once the hideously old contraption had ground to a halt, she’d been fine.
She felt her jaw clench, and she wanted to pop off, “No, I’m Seline.” But instead, she replied, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just startled. What are the chances—”
His radio crackled to life and it figured she’d finally try to be nice and she’d get interrupted. Maybe she’d hear something useful, though.
None of her irritation was from the elevator itself, just the being late part. Elevators she understood. Angry department heads would be harder to fix.
“I’m stuck in shaft number four, East tower, between twelve and thirteen. I have a citizen with me.” He said into the black, handheld device. At least he had communication.
“Are they afraid of the elevator falling?” whoever he was talking to answered back.
Seline got even more irritated, though she knew she shouldn’t. But why did this have to happen today?
Her tone bore the heavy French accent that seeped back in when she was sad, drinking, or irritated. “Elevators are designed with brake pads made out of materials with high coefficients of dynamic friction. This means that, as the elevator drops faster, the coefficient of friction increases. So, the faster the elevator goes the stickier the brake pads get.” She watched as his eyebrows climbed higher and higher, but she was irritated enough to not know when to shut up. “It is virtually impossible for any elevator constructed after 1950 to fall wildly out of control.”
He was holding the radio out so the person on the other end of the line could hear her. And he was smiling. “Very good.”
“I’m a physical chemist.” She shrugged. Even as she said it, she could hear clapping on the other end of his radio. It was more than one person listening in. She should have been embarrassed by her little outburst, but at least they were clapping.
Holding the radio back to his own mouth, he said, “No, she’s not afraid of the elevator falling …”
“I am upset,” she added, “because my citizenship is contingent on this professorship. The first meeting of the term with the entire staff of the Chemistry department starts at the Uni in…” She looked at her phone again. Damn. “Ten minutes ago.”
He had the grace to not point out that she’d been running late well before the elevator ground to a halt.
He winced as though he understood her dilemma but tucked the radio back onto his waistband and said, “Well, I’m glad I’m not stuck in an elevator with someone who’s irrationally afraid that they’re falling to their death.”
She laughed finally, grateful that he’d managed to make her smile. This poor firefighter had managed to get stuck with her when she was at her worst. She decided she could do better.
So she stuck out her hand. “I’m Seline Marchand.”
“Kalan Smith. Redemption FD.” His hand was larger than hers, his grip warm and reassuring. If she hadn’t been such a bitch to him already, she could have liked this guy.
Well, she thought, her job was the most important thing right now. Though she’d been at the university for several years. She’d been struggling and finally being offered a tenure track position was a coup, but it didn’t guarantee she would make tenure. Missing the first meeting only made her look bad.
She slumped back against the wall and didn’t speak, though this Kalan Smith firefighter seemed like he would understand.
They were silent for ten more minutes before she asked, “How long do you think we’ll be in here?”
“There’s no telling. They could get it fixed and get us moving in the next few minutes or we could be stuck for several hours. We should maybe sit down.”
“Oh my Lord,” she replied, the words rolling in her mouth like distasteful marbles. She thought about her nice work clothes on the old elevator floor, but sat down anyway.
He offered his own wry grin, for the first time revealing that he, too, was not okay with being stuck here. “I was supposed to be off shift at eight this morning. With this extra assignment, I’ve been on for twenty-eight straight hours and it’s not going to end soon. Once you and I get out of here, the team still has to get the guys in to actually repair these now.”
“Are you exhausted?”
This time he shook his head. “I’m used to it.”
They talked for a little while and Seline appreciated that his easygoing conversation made thirty minutes pass like nothing. Though he got the occasional message on his radio, nothing had happened. Then, she found herself telling him about one of the students who’d managed to blow up a beaker and make a noxious red smoke in her lab on the very first day of class.
A message popped over his radio even as a knock came at the elevator doors.
“We’re here! We’re going to get you out.”
Seline scrambled to her feet, as did Kalan.
It took over twenty minutes for the firefighters outside to pry the silver doors almost two and a half feet wide. Unfortunately, what Seline and Kalan saw was the workings between floors. Above her, in about a three foot square of space, two heads peered through the opening.
“Hey, Kalan!” one of them said.
Kalan immediately replied, “This is Dr. Seline Marchand with the university. We need to get her back to work today.” There were instructions quickly exchanged about how to lift her up and out the small window they’d braced open.
On a normal day Seline would have balked. Instead, she took a deep breath and peeled her shoes one by one. It had been made clear that he would lace his fingers together for a classic boost up and out.
She told herself she could do this, even though she was petrified. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she settled her bare foot into his linked fingers, and she pushed upward.
But before she grabbed the edge of the floor above her head, Seline balked and suddenly jumped back down.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Then she immediately shook her head no.
“You said you weren’t afraid of the elevator falling.”
“No,” she said, “I’m not afraid of plummeting to my death. This is a legitimate fear.” She pointed at the opening, knowing she sounded crazy, but the words didn’t stop. “That is a three-foot gap braced by two by fours. If this elevator falls a mere three feet—as it has done twice already—it will snap the braces like twigs. And, even though the edges of the floor and the opening are blunt—” she motioned to both as she spoke, while Kalan and the other firefighters looked on. “—the force of it will chop me in half.”
She noticed they hadn’t stuck their heads through the opening. They knew this, and no one contradicted her. “It’s basic kinematics,” she said and watched as he nodded, clearly already aware. “That’s what I’m afraid of. If this elevator moves while I am going out of that tiny hole, I will lose limbs and maybe my life.”
“Okay.”
She was being irrational. There was a whole team of firefighters here. They were not going to let her get chopped in half. They did elevator rescues as part of their job. But she was nervous and couldn’t stop spouting the physics. “The changing coefficient and the friction and the brake pads do not work fast enough to stop a three-foot fall.”
“I thought you were a chemist,” he was grinning at her, but not in a demeaning way.
“Physical chemist. I’m not quite up on my string theory or what FermiLab is up to right now, but I have an excellent amount of physics under my belt.”
Kalan only nodded and looked up to the men peering down at them. “Hernandez. Kane. I’m going to boost Seline up, you’re going to grab her hands and pull her through as quickly as possible.” They nodded and shifted a little bit. Then Kalan turned to her. “Don’t grab the edge of the floor. Just aim high and grab their hands. They’re going to pull you out as fast as they can. The braces will hold long enough, even if the elevator falls at the exact right moment. You’ll be fine.”
He was so kind and reassuring that she believed him.
“The other option is waiting until we get this fixed. Right now, everything is turned off.” He emphasized the last words, then added, “which means the elevator should not start up again. It shouldn’t move at all. This is the safest we’re going to be, and I’m coming out after you.”
Seline nodded. Damn, he was good at being calm. He was even talking her into this, though she was armed with physics and fear. She nodded.
Once again, she placed her hand on his shoulder and her bare foot into his strong hands. This time, he didn’t wait for her. Instead, he said, “One … Two … Three.” And he launched Seline and her rapidly beating heart almost through the small window above them. Almost.
