The Hotel

Kash’s heart thunders as he emerges from the stairwell. He rounds the corner that leads to the elevator, bouncing off the gilded wall and redirecting just in time to see two well-muscled arms pry open the outer elevator doors.

The elevator’s stopped between floors, but a meter pokes above the shiny tile. Velta’s head emerges from the gap to assess the situation, only to rapidly retreat when Kash slides through the narrow opening, kicking Velta in the chest. Kash clips his head on the ceiling, but manages to keep his wits long enough to snatch the USB-C drive, no longer than a fingernail, out of Velta’s extended hand as she goes flying back against the far wall.

Kash lands flat on his back in the elevator, somehow still holding the USB-C, before realising his mistake. With nowhere left to run and Velta quickly regaining her feet, Kash does the only thing he can think of: he swallows the device.

Velta is looming over him moments later, easily lifting his narrow frame and shoving Kash against the half-open door. The ceiling between floors is thick and unsealed, so stone digs into his lower back and drywall into his knees, but the insulation between feels like cotton candy that could give way at a moment’s notice to the abyss beyond.

Kash brings his elbow down on Velta’s forearm to free himself from her grip on his shirt collar, kneeing her in the stomach in the same motion. Velta shuffles her feet back to lessen the strike, pushing Kash’s shoulders back until the top half of his torso sits on the slate tile outside the elevator. He becomes deeply aware of the few cables keeping the elevator afloat as he watches the crack between the shafts.

There’s a soft click as the safety is taken off the rifle that was previously strapped to Velta’s back. Kash feels the barrel of the gun rest against his abdomen, and he tears his gaze away from the would-be guillotine.

“What did you do?” Velta demands.

“Exactly what you think I did. Come on, don’t pretend you weren’t the type of child to lick glue sticks. We all have our cravings... ow.”

Kash slowly recoils from the jab, reworking his false sincerity into a self-satisfied smirk.

“You know, a gun would be an awfully inefficient retrieval method. If only someone had a knife you could borrow.”

He quickly twists his hips, keeping his stash of throwing knives on his belt out of reach if Velta maintains her grip on his collar and the gun.

“Nice try, but you’ll-” Kash starts.

Click.

“You were going to shoot me?!” He cries in alarm.

“You talk too much. I thought it would shut you up, but apparently, it’s your lucky day.” Velta fidgets with the firearm as best she can while restraining him, looking for the source of the suspected jam.

“Don’t be silly,” Kash holds up the firing pin he nicked from her gun in the first kerfuffle. “My luck ran out a long time ago.”

He drops the firing pin. It clatters between the lip of the elevator and the door. Velta drops his collar and lunges. Kash takes the moment to slip away as the pin bounces, then disappears, through the gap.

Velta wheels around in the small space, intent on using the rifle for a far more satisfying purpose: bludgeoning. Kash blocks her first, angry overhead strike with both hands crossed overhead. He uses the move to catch the gun and pull it to his hip, then makes a quick half turn to swing the butt of the gun at Velta’s knee. She stumbles from the blow, retreating a step.

Kash follows up with a roundhouse kick that faints at hip height then flicks up to Velta’s head. However, he used this trick on her two months ago in Quebec, and now, she catches his foot. The pair stand frozen for a moment before Velta advances, still lifting Kash’s leg.

He falls back, catching himself on the approaching elevator railing. He rolls to the side, using the momentum to pull his leg from Velta’s grasp. Standing again in mere moments, Kash barely blocks a front kick aimed at his kidney, then uses the blade of his hand to strike Velta in the neck.

Velta coughs but keeps advancing, unholstering her side arm in the process. Kash draws a throwing knife, but instead steps in for a slash while Velta aims.

Bang!

The bullet catches Kash’s bicep, but he doesn’t have time to consider the damage. Instead, he stabs Velta’s forearm and disarms her. Kash raises the gun, intent on hitting Velta across the temple, but she punches his stomach.

A second strike targets his floating ribs, and Kash folds in half instinctively, just in time to become violently acquainted with Velta’s knee.

Blood dripping from his nose, Kash staggers back, dazed. Velta reaches down to collect her gun when Kash vaults, pushing off her back to reach the ceiling and knocking her over.

He pushes the flimsy vent cover out the way with one hand and catches the new ledge with the other. Despite the strain in his bicep, Kash manages to pull himself up before Velta can recover her gun.

Shots ping through the thin roof. Arms burning, Kash climbs one of the cables holding the elevator aloft. He reminds himself not to look down as he locates the door to the next floor up.

Hand over hand he climbs. The doors are nearly in reach when the cable is jostled.

Without thinking, Kash jumps, pushing off the taught cable and reaching for the top of the doorframe. Only after his hands leave the cable does Kash notice the two foot gap between the side of the elevator carriage and the wall.

Kash’s stomach drops, then rebounds as he catches the ledge only to have his injured arm’s grip falter. He scrambles for a foothold, finding narrow purchase on one of the frame’s outer supports.

“Nice try, but it’s time to come down.” Velta stands on the beams supporting the elevator’s cable system, stance braced and gun raised.

“Or what? You’ll shoot me, again?” Kash sighs to conceal his laboured breathing. “Do that, and you’ll be retrieving the USB-C from a pile of mush down in parking... if the cops don’t get there first.”

He's disconcerted by how callously he's begun to think about his own death, but right now is not the time to unpack his already scrambled thoughts.

“Do you ever get tired of your own smugness?" Velta asks. "What if I decide no one should have the drive?” She pauses, and self-satisfaction creeps into her normally professional demeanour. “It's probably already cooking in your stomach acid or something. This way, I could be sure it’s gone.”

“Come on. That solution is so boring. Why settle?” Kash's shoulder strains, his toes cramping in his boot as he clings to the wisp of a foothold.

He braces himself, swinging both feet out, and just as he begins to swing back towards the door, he lets go. The door rises past him until he catches himself, hands scraping along the cold tile of the floor, and feet landing on the seam between the reinforced elevator shaft and the thin drywall of the ceiling below.

He hears movement when Velta realises his plan, but he presses the insulation further into the wall and begins kicking out sections of the drywall until he can slip through the gap.

Kash lands hard on the floor below, but he picks himself up immediately and runs. Who knows how quickly Velta can follow?