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Daisy peeked into the hall. The warlock entered a lift. The fat dwarf and the boys took another lift. She scrunched back into the corner so she would not be seen. The warlock said, “Magical poison!”
Anyone can be brave! She remembered what Heartburn said. All we have to do is try! The lift closed, and she snuck another peek. No one was in the hall.
She tip toed across the hall, and tried not to make a sound. She kept an eye on the center door of the gymnasium but she saw no one coming out.
She made for the lifts. She pressed the button, and looked around at the doors to the gym.
A lift chimed. Startled, she turned. The door opened. The lift was empty, and she darted inside. She turned around and peeked out to see if anyone had seen her.
The gangly dwarf appeared in the door of the gym. Oh no, did he see me? She jumped to the side and froze. The control panel was above her head.
“Oh, good, there’s a lift I can catch,” said the gangly dwarf.
Her blood raced. Close the door! She punched the button, and the door started to close.
The dwarf’s footfalls sped up. “Aw, now I gotta catch another one,” he said, and the lift door closed.
Frozen, she held her breath.
The lift was dark and quiet, but it did not move. What’s wrong? Why aren’t we moving? A thought came to her. Press the button! She did, and the lift moved. She breathed and sighed with relief. She wanted to cry, but she knew now was not the time.
What am I going to do? As the lift slowly sank, the floor indicator blinked four and a bell chimed. Will they go out the front or the back? Either way, they would have to go through the lobby unless they left through the basement. Why didn’t George stop them? The bell chimed as she passed the third floor. Can I run? Where? Can I hide? Where?
She touched her forehead. The green microchip on her forehead was cool. She had always felt secure knowing she would never be lost. They can find me! They know where I am! Now she wondered. Will they look for me?
The lift passed the second floor and the bell chimed. The dwarf in the Halloween costume wanted to poison everyone in the gym. All of her teachers, all of her friends, how could she help them? I’m a little girl.
What can I do? She hated Dirk. He sprayed her with cold water when they played with water pistols. What if he dies? It was not fair, someone needed to save him, but why should it be her?
When she was sick and she threw up on her floor, the nurse called her a cur. She doesn’t deserve to die!
Heartburn is my teacher. Mike, Wallaby, Mona, and Diane are my friends! And all the others! I can’t just leave them! What can I do?
The lift door opened. She peeked out of the lift. No one was there.
I can get help! She put her foot in the door holding it open and stuck her head out of the door to look around. The main hall was only a few yards away.
The bells chimed and she heard the lift next to her open. Jumping backwards, she hid in her lift. The dwarf got off his lift. She recognized the footfall of his boots.
The door of her lift started to close. The dwarf stopped. She heard his boots squeak on the marble floor, and come closer. Clinching her fists and squeezing her eyes shut, she hoped the dwarf would go away.
“Crazy lifts,” said the dwarf, “got a mind of their own.”
The door of her lift shut. She waited. She had no idea how long to wait. If she opened the door too soon, the dwarf would hear, and if she waited too long she would be too late. Her friends would be poisoned.
Daisy raised her finger to the button to open the door. She hesitated, uncertain what to do.
Then she counted to twelve. Twelve was a good number. Going by thousands, she counted from one to twelve, and pressed the button.
The lift door opened. She put her foot in the door again, and leaned forward. She peered out.
In her mind, Dirk waited for her behind the door with a water pistol. She flinched, and then looked again.
No one was outside the lifts. She tip toed across the lobby, and she stopped at the corner.
Remember how Dirk plays water pistols. She sidled up to the corner and peeked into the main hall.
The gangly dwarf walked nonchalantly towards George. The security guard paid no attention to the dwarf’s approach. Why can’t George see him? Is he blind? Can he hear him? Will he stop him? She wanted to scream, but she gritted her teeth.
He stopped in front of the guard and read the guard’s nameplate.
“George? That’s your name? Can’t see me can you, George?” The dwarf made faces at the security guard. He stuck his tongue out at him, and waved his hands in the guard’s face. “Can’t hear me either, hey George? You’re such a George, George!”
Laughing, the gangly dwarf slapped the kiosk. He turned and burst out the door. He crossed the landing and went down the steps as the door swung shut.
Daisy rounded the corner and ran down the hall. “George!” she yelled.
The security guard slowly rolled around in his chair, and said lazily, “Hi Daisy, what can I do for you?”
“You gotta come with me! We’ve gotta go to the gym or everybody’s gonna die!”
“Now, now, honey, it’s not right making up stories to fool old George.”
“No sir, I’m not making up a story! We have to save everyone! It’s full of magical poison! They’re all gonna die!”
“Magic poison, hey?” George chuckled. “That’s a new one.”
She recalled a cartoon. If only you had done more. She imagined all her friends dead. No!
Recalling some instinct long forgotten, Daisy knew what to do. She cried.
“Daisy, don’t cry,” he tried to console the child.
Tears welled up, and she balled.
“We’ve got to save them George!” She wailed. Tears rolled down her cheeks Grabbing the moleman’s pant leg, she tugged at him. Then, she turned and ran. “Come on George! Come save everyone!”
“Please don’t cry, Daisy,” he frowned and slowly rose from his chair. He knew it was a trick.
That troublemaker, Dirk, had once told him there were rats in the basement. When he found nothing but a couple of old socks stuffed with construction paper, they had laughed and called him, ‘Gumball.’
The little green girl cried. Daisy was upset. He tried to console her, but the tears only flowed all the more. “Please don’t cry, Daisy,” he repeated. He had to do something.
Sighing, he patted his belly and adjusted his utility belt. “All right, Daisy. Leave it to George. We’ll go find out what this is about?” Striding down the hall, his boots landed hard as he waddled after the child.
“Hurry up!” She ran ahead, and turned the corner to the lifts. “Please George!”
He knew this was where the trick would happen. He braced himself for a water balloon, and turned the corner expecting a dozen laughing children. He told himself not to blush.
Secretly, he reminded himself not to cry.
There was no one there except Daisy holding the lift. “Please George! Hurry! We have to go up now!” Tears ran down her cheeks, and she bounced.
He stepped into the lift and she pressed the button to the top floor. “We only have three minutes! You have to get everyone out!” The bells chimed as they rode the lift.
“Now, little lady, if this is a trick, I’m going to be mighty mad! I’ll ask Principal Chapel to give you detention.”
“Give me all the detention you want George,” she said, startling him. “Save everyone! That’s all you have to do!”
What kind of trick was this?
Kids had put glue on his chair and gum in his hat.
The sixth grade once threw him a surprise birthday party. The students had bought him a gift card from the bowling alley with ten games. He liked that.
The lift door opened. Cautiously, he stepped out.
“Go on George! Go save them!” Daisy wailed.
The
little girl pushed him. She tried to shove him forward. His bulk was too great for her to move, and her shoes slipped on the floor.
“All right, little lady. I’m going, I’m going.”
The eerie quiet alerted him. Principal Chapel had called an assembly in the gym, but he expected nothing special. It was not his birthday, and there was no reason to expect a trick now. There was no sound. No children played, no whistles blew. Usually, he heard the sound of running. The weight room was empty. Normally, the clacking of weights echoed in the hall.
“Wait here, Daisy,” He held her back, and he peeked into the gym.
“Go on, please hurry up!” Daisy cried.
Hesitating, he peered into the gym. Everyone was frozen. The boys and girls, and their teachers all stared into space. Principal Chapel and Margaret stood paralyzed in front of the assembly.
“Principal Chapel?” He called.
As he walked up to her, he saw two aluminum cylinders on the half-court line. The canisters were the size of a small fire extinguisher. Each canister had a valve connected to a dispersion cone, and a timer. The timer counted down, and only seconds remained.
George’s eyes grew round.
All of his life flashed before his eyes. In all his years, he had held many jobs. He landed a job with the sanitation department, and collected trash. He met a girl he loved, and he married her. He retired, and his wife passed away. His only friends were on his bowling team. Alone, he had to find something to do in his spare time. Was it fate? He was lucky to land a job with the school. For all his complaints, he loved the school. The children greeted him and waved to him. They showed him their homework. They were his friends and they gave him pictures they had drawn themselves. They’re just kids!
He knew what he had to do. He ran across the basketball court. His bulk pounded on the court, and his boots marred the glossy floor. He ran past coach Merry, and she never even flinched.
The students and teachers all sat frozen. They were oblivious to the fat moleman huffing and puffing across the gym. He was out of shape. The blood in his ears pounded, and his lungs burned. But his massive hands were still strong after decades of loading trash.
He grabbed a canister. The canister was as light as a feather. He wheezed. The seconds ticked away. He jogged to the other canister and picked it up.
Principal Chapel stared into space. Her eyes were glazed over. Her pupils were dilated and she was oblivious to his presence.
“Get out!” he croaked. He tried to call out, but his lungs refused. She just stood there.
Cursing his body, he ran for the exit. His boots pounded away.
An idea popped into his head. Maybe it was a distant memory from his military service or a vid he had seen. He ran for the swimming pool. The water might drown the timer or the gas might react with the water and neutralize the poison.
Airlocks isolated the pool from the children’s locker rooms for privacy. Maybe the locks would stop the gas. From years of working in the sanitation department, he knew the pool’s vents led to the city’s exhaust system, and the exhaust went through incinerators before it was released on the surface.
If the gas escapes, it will have to pass through the incinerators. It’s all I can do. I can’t do any more.
Daisy cried in the hall. She was shouting, but he could not hear her. His heartbeat pounded in his eardrums.
Stuffing a canister under his arm, he pulled his mobile caster from his utility belt, and tossed it at the girl.
He sucked in air, and croaked, “Run Daisy, call for help.”
He jogged to the boys’ locker room. He twisted and slammed the door with his back. He rolled into the locker room and shuffled towards the pool.
One of the canisters beeped. He pointed it away from his face and charged the door to the pool. He held his breath. The beeping canister hissed, and a white mist shot from the dispersion cone. He kicked the door and it flew open. Gas trailed from the canister as he ran to the pool.
Momentum carried him through the door. The pool glittered. A pebbled walk surrounded the pool. A diving platform sat on one end. Competition lanes marked the bottom. The other end was shallow for small children learning to swim. Slides dropped into a lagoon on the far wall.
The other canister beeped. George ran to the pool. He heaved the canisters into the deep end.
Gas blocked his way back to boy’s airlock. Gas wafted from the pool. He looked for a way out. The girl’s locker! He had never seen the girls’ locker room before. No one will object today! He headed for the girls’ airlock and ran from the gas.
Grasping his chest, his mouth opened. His lungs screamed. He willed himself not to breath.
He fell beside the pool. His flash light popped off his utility belt and rolled to the edge of the pool, bounced over the lip, and rolled into the pool. His key ring skittered on the floor.
Gas escaping from the canisters roiled the water in the pool. Brown smog floated over the spot where the canisters had sunk. The thick smog drifted lazily towards the exhaust vents.
Gently, the cloud thinned.
Daisy
Shotgun stuck his head in the open door, “Lunch, boss.”
He sat up and rubbed his temples, and pushed the dreams from his mind. “Be right there.”
Joining his butler at the dining room table, he found a spread of pate and creamed cheeses, cold cuts and toasted bread.
“I had a strange dream. That makes two this week.”
“You’re cracking up.” Shotgun filled two crystal goblets with sparkling water. “Do you recall any of it?”
Jack recounted as much as he could remember. He told him of the four derelicts being washed by the dwarf and the two tennis players with one clean washrag between them.
“Good thing you didn’t need a shower,” said Shotgun.
Heavy metal music interrupted them. He stopped in his tracks, and scrambled to open his caster.
Gumshoe appeared on the caster’s screen in his fedora and trench coat. Whiskers speckled his face, and purple flaps sagged below bloodshot eyes.
“Morning Gumshoe,” said Jack. “Were you up all night? You look like a levi-truck ran over you.”
“Barfly and I hit O’Malley’s last night.” He stroked his chin. “Half my brain is still swimming with mermaids.”
“Ha, old-man, aren’t you getting a bit old for that?”
“Jack,” said Gumshoe. “Good cops are like fine wine and cheese. We only improve with age.”
“What did you tell Betty, old man?”
“She’s up at Iron Mountain. So I called her from the office and made excuses.” The inspector winked. “Jazz still has you wrapped around her finger, but you’ll learn how to manage.”
“You’re getting too old to stay up all night, old man.” Jack yawned. “What’s up? You didn’t call to tell me about your hangover.”
“Do you know where Beslan is?”
“No, what is it?”
“It’s an elementary school in Moab. Get down here as soon as you can. Expect to be here a while. I’ll explain when you get here.”
“Be there in ten.”
“Thanks,” Gumshoe flipped his caster and closed the connection.
“Now it’s a school,” said Jack. “This can’t be good! We’ve got to get down there.”
“Right behind you, boss.”