The Wish (Nightmare Hall) (5 page)

Alex sat perfectly still, her mouth open. She replayed the odd words in her head. Was Julie supposed to be sorry? For what? She hadn’t done anything. She’d been the victim of a terrible accident. What was the caller talking about?

Alex didn’t play the song. WKSM didn’t have it. But even if they had, she wouldn’t have played it.

Shaken, she finished her shift, grabbed her jacket, and went to the door to look for her replacement, another freshman named Cath Devon. Cath was the nervous type, always in a rush, sometimes late, but she had a soft, sexy voice that worked well on radio, and she seemed to settle down well once she got inside the booth. Alex couldn’t blame Cath for being nervous—after all, she lived in Nightmare Hall.

When Alex checked, Cath wasn’t there. There was no one in the outside office.

Darn! She was hungry. She’d eaten no lunch, and only a handful of pecans for breakfast.

She reached down to open the glass-windowed door, but the knob refused to turn. She tried again. Nothing.

Locked? The door to the booth was locked?

Alex groaned. Kyle had accidentally locked the door on his way out? He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have been that careless. Alex struggled with the doorknob for another few minutes. Finally, she gave up and admitted to herself that, carelessness or not, the door was definitely locked.

But…how had Kyle managed that? Even if he’d accidentally locked the door, it was the kind of lock that freed itself when the doorknob was turned from the inside. No problem.

Except that when she turned the doorknob, then twisted it harder, nothing happened.

I would call that a problem, Alex thought grimly.

Well, not
that
much of a problem. She was in a radio station, after all, with a telephone right behind her on the console. She would simply call maintenance and have someone come up and get her out. It was only…she glanced at the big, round clock on the wall…six o’clock. There would be someone in maintenance.

She turned and picked up the telephone that, only minutes ago, had been her link to the outside world. She held the receiver to her ear and had already begun dialing downstairs when she realized there had been no dial tone.

The phone was dead.

Impossible.

She held the receiver out in front of her face and stared at it, as if she expected it to tell her why it had no dial tone.

Then she shook it, and held it to her ear again. The only thing she heard was a maddening silence.

Her mind began dictating to her: Okay, Alex, no need to panic. You are in a radio station booth. All you have to do is put down this stupid, useless telephone, switch on the mike, and announce to all of campus that you are locked in on the eighteenth floor of the tower. Then someone will come and set you free. See? No problem.

And then two things happened.

The lights went out. Without so much as a clicking sound. They went out quietly and quickly and completely, as if electricity suddenly no longer existed.

Alex gasped, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Darkness…total darkness, had enveloped the booth like a thick black glove.

She could see nothing. Beyond the wide glass doors directly in front of her, leading to the observation deck outside, there was no moon, not even a star shining in the sky.

She made a little sound in her throat. Remember every single thing your mother ever told you about why it was silly to be afraid of the dark, she ordered. Like, there isn’t anything in this booth that wasn’t here before the lights disappeared. Like, there are no such things as monsters and even if there were, they wouldn’t be in this booth with you. Like, darkness is simply the world at rest, getting ready for another day.

But those things hadn’t worked well when she was little, and they certainly weren’t working now.

This was not supposed to be happening. She had worked in this booth many times, and not once had the electricity gone out, not once had the door locked accidentally, not once had Cath Devon failed to show up at all.

“I am not a little girl anymore,” she told the darkness defiantly. “I’m a college freshman, and I’m not afraid of you.”

But the darkness knew she lied. She could almost hear it laughing at her.

“I want out of here,” she whispered, and suddenly she remembered saying exactly the same thing in the wrecked car the night before.

“Last night was so scary,” she whispered. “I don’t want something else scary to happen. I’m not ready.” And was immediately ashamed for sounding like a small child.

And then the second thing happened.

The double glass doors to the observation deck on the eighteenth floor of the tower blew open and ushered in a wind so strong, it pulled at Alex’s hair and whipped against her face and yanked at her clothing and tugged on her legs. Before she could grab onto the edge of the desk, the wind, a giant vacuum with a strength much greater than her own, yanked her up in its arms and lifted her toward the black, gaping hole beyond the doors.

A
LEX STRUGGLED TO MAINTAIN
her balance against the vacuuming whirlwind that swept her up and toward the yawning black opening, but it was hopeless. Her feet went out from under her and she landed on the floor on her back, sliding, sliding, swept across the cold tile floor by an unseen hand. Crying out, she flung out her arms, her hands searching desperately for an anchor. But there was nothing…nothing….

She had no more breath left in her to scream. Her mouth was open, but only tiny gasps came out.

Cool air slapped against her face as she was cruelly yanked, on her back, across the floor and through the opening, onto the observation deck. The floor was cement, cold and hard. She did cry out, then, as her bruises from the accident bounced against the stone.

Her hands were grasping, searching for something to hold onto…something to keep her from going over the edge, eighteen floors above the ground…but there wasn’t anything, there wasn’t anything to grab….

She was sliding across the cement with the speed of a toboggan on ice. Stop, stop, she cried, too fast…too fast…I can’t stop, I can’t stop….

Oh, God, she was going to die…die…smashed to bits on the ground below….

When her searching left hand slapped against something cold and hard, her fingers instinctively wrapped themselves around it. The wind continued to yank at her, nearly pulling her left arm from its socket. But she wouldn’t let go. Whatever she had latched onto, it was all she had.

Crying, gasping, clinging with one arm to her anchor, Alex fought to bring her right arm up to join her left. The pain was excruciating. Grunting with the effort, she slapped her right hand around the metal thing and, when that hand met her left one, she laced her fingers together for added strength.

The pull of the angry wind was incredible. Her legs felt as if they were about to be ripped off. She couldn’t hold on much longer, and she had no breath left for screaming.

She had forgotten the waist-high wall, built to keep accidents from happening so far above the ground…until a sudden, furious gust of wind flung her legs sideways. Had she not been wearing thick socks and boots, both her ankle-bones would have been shattered by the force of the blow as they smashed into the thick stone wall.

She cried out in pain. Then she clenched her teeth and held on. You’re not taking me, she vowed grimly. You’re not pulling me up and over that wall and tossing me to the ground. I’m never letting go, never!

Her fingers were firmly entwined around the metal…pole?…She let her head fall to the ground, the cement cool against her cheek, and closed her eyes. But her fingers maintained their steady grip, never easing up for a second.

The wind roared around her, tugging, pulling fiercely…but she held on.

And after an eternity, just as Alex was certain she could not hold on another second, the angry wailing suddenly became a moan, and then a sigh, and…died.

She was lying in utter, peaceful quiet and the cruel tug at her body was gone.

Unable to move, she lay there, dazed, hands still fastened firmly around the thing that had saved her, her eyes closed.

“Alex? Alex, is that you?”

Beth’s voice. Beth would help her. If only Alex could lift her head and ask for help, Beth would give it to her.

“Alex, what on earth…?”

Her head was so heavy. Weighed a ton. Couldn’t possibly lift it.

Footsteps rushing across cement. Beth’s voice again, “Oh, Alex, what happened?”

“The wind,” was all Alex could say.

Arms reaching down to help her up. Trying to unfasten her fingers from around her anchor. “Alex, let go! You have to let go. The wind is gone now, Alex, it’s okay.”

She had to be told several times before her fingers allowed themselves to uncurl. What she had been holding onto was the base of one of the larger telescopes. It had, she was convinced, saved her life.

“Are you okay?” Beth’s soft, gentle voice was saying as she helped Alex back inside to safety. “What on earth happened?”

“I…I don’t know,” Alex answered, collapsing into a chair. “The wind…”

“What about the wind?” Beth handed her a glass of water.

“It…it pulled the door open, and then it pulled me out…” Alex felt silly, although the words were the truth. But they sounded crazy, even to her.

“But you’re okay?”

Alex nodded. “Just scared. I really thought I was going to be dragged up and over that wall.”

“Gee,” Beth said, “I don’t remember the wind ever being that rough up here before. Half the time, we don’t even close that door. It gets too stuffy in the booth. No one’s ever complained about the wind before.” Well, why don’t you just
say
I’m nuts and get it over with, Alex thought, annoyed. Aloud, she said, “Thanks for rescuing me. How did you get in? The door to the booth was jammed or something. I couldn’t get out.”

“Really?” Beth looked even more skeptical. “Actually, it was open a little bit when I got here. I thought that was sort of weird. Where’s Cath, anyway?”

“Didn’t show.”

“Well, that’s weird, too. I know she’s late sometimes, but she always gets here, sooner or later.”

“How could you tell she wasn’t here?” Alex asked. “In the dark, I mean?”

“It wasn’t dark. The lights were on.”

“The lights were on and the door was open?” Alex persisted. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Alex, what’s wrong?” Beth knelt to peer into Alex’s face. “I know you must have been scared to death out there. But why are you asking about the lights? And the door? What’s been going on here, Alex?”

“The electricity went off,” Alex said, rubbing her hands together in an effort to get the circulation going again. Her knuckles were still white. Her fingers throbbed. “And the phone was dead.”

Beth stood and picked up the telephone receiver. “It’s fine now,” she said after a moment. “Listen, you don’t look so good. Can you make it back to your dorm okay? Is there someone I can call to come and help you?”

Alex shook her head. She stood up. All she wanted was to get out of this place, as fast as possible. “I’m fine. But…but I don’t know about tomorrow, Beth. My shift, I mean.” She couldn’t imagine ever, ever being inside this booth again.

“Don’t worry about it. If I don’t fire Cath for not showing, she can take your shift. She owes you.”

To Alex’s amazement, her legs worked. They felt like rubber, and her ankles hurt, but she could walk. Not as fast as she would have liked as she escaped the office, but at least she didn’t have to stay there.

She was still too shaken to think about the why and how of what had happened. Later…maybe…but not now. Now, she needed to be safely back in her room, the lights on, the telephone working.

Shaken to the core, she hoped, prayed, that Jenny would be home. She wanted
someone
there.

Jenny wasn’t home.

But the emptiness of the room didn’t stop Alex from being glad she was home…and safe. She hadn’t been thrown eighteen stories to her death…not quite. Almost…

Almost doesn’t count, she thought giddily, and then realized that it certainly did count. Okay, so being dead was the worst. But thinking you were going to be dead was pretty horrible, too.

The thought that she had come close to death two nights in a row was so unbearable, so terrifying, that she swept it out of her head with as much ferocity as any tower wind.

Where had that terrible wind come from? Beth said there’d never been a problem before.

When she had calmed down a little, Alex went to the phone and called first Marty, at his dorm, and then Jenny, at the hospital. Neither was there.

Marty was probably at the library working on his soc speech. Maybe Jenny had gone down to the hospital cafeteria to get something to eat. Alex tried Kyle and Bennett, also, but no one was home.

Giving up, she decided she really didn’t want to talk to anyone, anyway. What would she say? That she’d been dragged to the edge of the observation deck by a gust of wind? How could they possibly understand that?

She didn’t understand it herself. If Kyle had accidentally locked the door when he left, how could Beth have found it open? Why was the, phone working when Beth picked it up?

She was too tired to think about all of that now. Too tired…

She was asleep in minutes, huddled deep within her blankets. She left both lights in her room on, and a third light in the tiny bathroom.

The next day, Alex decided not to tell anyone what had happened on the observation deck. She was beginning to feel foolish about it. According to Beth, no one else had ever had a problem up there in the booth.

She could only hope Beth wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened.

In an effort to put the nightmare behind her, Alex agreed to go to Vinnie’s that evening after they saw Julie at the hospital. She couldn’t stay away from the pizza place forever, just because of a storm, a bolt of lightning, and an auto accident. Anyway, it wasn’t Vinnie’s fault they’d had a wreck.

Julie, her face still swathed in white, was in better spirits, and making more attempts to talk. They could all see that it was painful for her, but they were so glad to hear her voice, no one told her to quit trying. “At least I can watch television,” she told them that night. “And,” with a trace of her old impishness, “I’m watching a series on Mystery Theater. It’s on every night and I knew by the second episode that the butler didn’t do it. The stepdaughter did. She’s the only one with motive and opportunity. I’m right, I know I am.”