Page 110 of White Noise

A service cavity.

I’ll take it.

There is ductwork running along one side, pipes disappearing vertically through the wall, and a narrow maintenance space just wide enough for someone much smaller, much saner, and significantly less claustrophobic than me to crawl through.

I stare into it for a second.

“Close enough.”

At this point, my standards are underground anyway.

I widen the opening until I can squeeze myself through, then lower onto unfinished concrete on the other side.

The space immediately makes every survival instinct I have start screaming.

Dust coats my clothes, insulation claws at my hoodie, and the first time I move my knee forward, the concrete scrapes straight through my leggings.

“Great.”

I look down at the fresh tear.

“Love that for me.”

Then I keep crawling, but there is no room to turn around. Which, makes me a little nervous, but considering my option is to either suck it up and keep going, or turn around and deal with Silas, I keep going.

About halfway through, something crackles behind me.

I stop so fast my shoulder slams into a pipe.

For one ugly second, I’m sure it’s static.

My pulse jumps while I stare into the darkness over my shoulder, waiting for black eyes to appear where there shouldn’t be enough room for a body.

Nothing happens.

Then the sound comes again and I realize it’s air dragging through the open return vent.

I close my eyes and breathe through the panic.

“Get your shit together, Saga.”

The wall does not answer, which pathetically offers me some comfort.

I crawl until light appears around the edge of another access panel, pry it loose from the inside, and tumble into a maintenance closet hard enough to bruise both knees.

I almost laugh.

The door opens.

Actually opens.

No red light.

No fucking Silas deciding whether I’m allowed through.

I take the stairs down and don’t stop until the lobby is behind me, and before I kow it I’m outside.

Cold air hits my face, followed by traffic, horns, people talking over one another, and the usual smell of exhaust and coffee drifting out of somewhere nearby.