Chapter 7
DAMIEN
Over and over again, Delilah slammed her finger on the Heaven button. ‘Move, you stupid lift! Somehow, this is all my mother’s fault!’ She glanced at Damien. ‘I’m sorry for calling your lift stupid.’
Damien was too much in shock to answer. How could this happen?
His lift had been perfectly reliable for the thirty-two years he’d worked here, and for far longer according to the lift attendant before him.
This place was not truly a hotel; it was a manifestation of Purgatory in a form that the human mind could comprehend.
The lift had been created by inhuman, otherworldly forces. How could it break?
On the other hand, the water fountain had been broken for years. He couldn’t pretend he understood how any of this worked.
The lift cables groaned. Damien had a premonition it might fall again. He took Delilah’s arm and propelled her out. ‘You should get off while you still can. It’s dangerous here. I won’t be able to take you to Heaven today. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault.’ She stepped into the Limbo waiting room and beckoned. ‘Come with me. Didn’t that voice say we all needed to evacuate the lift?’
‘I can’t leave the lift.’ Damien shook off the chill that ran down his spine.
‘Not even when a creepy disembodied voice orders you to? Surely you couldn’t get in trouble for obeying instructions.’
‘I have to try and make it to maintenance for repairs. There’s no other way to move around the hotel. If the lift stops working . . .’ Damien couldn’t finish that sentence. ‘I have to repair it.’
Delilah raised an eyebrow. ‘Does Godfrey ever repair anything?’
‘He replaced a lightbulb. He’ll have to try if it’s this important.
And, anyway, nothing can truly hurt me in Purgatory.
’ Damien had no confidence in Godfrey, but believed in his last sentence.
He’d been here for a long time and never seen a single person sustain injuries.
A particularly unpleasant guest had once attacked Heather with a chair and, while she’d been very unhappy about it, she hadn’t bled.
No bruises had been left behind. She’d said it had been painful, but the pain hadn’t lasted longer than the blow itself.
In fact, she’d been fairly certain it stopped hurting as soon as she’d stopped thinking about it.
‘The rules seem to be out the window right now. I’m worried about you,’ Delilah said quietly.
‘That means a lot.’ He swallowed. ‘I have a duty to this hotel. Like you once said, I’m the first and last face that everyone sees here.
Sometimes my job gets boring, but my work is important.
I want to keep on taking people to Heaven, and that means fixing my lift.
’ The cables groaned again. ‘I have to go.’
Delilah saluted him. ‘I wish you luck, and not merely for selfish reasons. If I had to place a bet, then I’d bet on you succeeding.’
‘Luckily for me, you’ve always been good at betting.’
Her soft eyes were the last sight he saw before the doors closed. They gave him courage. It wasn’t like him to take risks. But he’d gamble on her luck more than his. If she’d bet on him, then he would try to believe in himself.
He pressed the button for maintenance.
The cables squealed. He liked that sound even less than a groan, but kept holding the lever, sweat dripping down his brow. The floors lit up one by one as they moved down, and when he reached maintenance, he moaned in relief.
The doors wouldn’t open. Damien wanted to collapse into a puddle on the floor, but he’d promised to be brave, and his courage ought to last a little longer than five minutes. He grabbed the edges of the doors and yanked.
Finally, the doors popped open. It happened so fast that Damien fell against the lift handrail.
This floor had white cement walls and rows of endless cupboards. The air felt cold and dusty. Into the long, stretching hallway, Damien called, ‘Godfrey? Anyone? Please, the lift is broken!’
From the distance, Godfrey shouted, ‘We’re on a smoke break. Come back later.’
Decades of suppressed stress exploded out of Damien.
He screamed, ‘THE ENTIRE HOTEL STOPS FUNCTIONING WHEN THE LIFT IS brOKEN! YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A PHYSICAL BODY TO GET ADDICTED TO NICOTINE.
MY LIFT IS FLASHING WARNING LIGHTS AND RANDOMLY FALLING AND SPEAKING IN TONGUES.
I HAVE RISKED MY OWN DEAD SKIN TO MAKE IT HERE.
BE USEFUL FOR ONCE IN YOUR TENURE. GET OVER HERE AND FIX THE LIFT RIGHT NOW! ’
‘There’s a proper order to maintenance,’ Godfrey huffed. ‘I have a long list of repairs. The water fountain is next. You’ll have to wait.’
Surprise overrode even Damien’s anger. ‘How are you planning to reach the water fountain when the lift doesn’t work?’
He never got an answer to his question. With a sound that pierced the air like a gunshot, one of the lift cables snapped.
The sirens screamed. Brilliant red lights overtook his vision.
The alarm voice babbled strange words that might have been Latin but which sounded too guttural to come from any human throat.
The lift smacked against the walls like a bird battered about in a storm . . . then, like a dead bird, it fell.