missing her tongue.
“Oh,” Pam said, “I don’t like that.” Operating purely on adrenaline and instinct, she whirled back. Enrico was only about ten yards away, blocking the corridor. She tapped the umbrella against her right hand to gauge its strength. She believed it was a thick and sturdy golf umbrella, made to stand up under hard use and misuse. She hoped it could stand up under some serious misuse right now.
She tried to sprint past Enrico on the other side of the hallway, but his long legs and arms worked in his favor. As he lunged for her, Pam backhanded his temple with the heavy handle as hard as she could. She had never struck a human or animal like this before. She had played a bit of tennis in high school, and Pam tried to remember how she had delivered her most punishing ball returns. His head, already unsteady, lolled to the side and he seemed to lose his bearings. He did not fall, but took uncertain circular steps as if her blow had taken out some brain function that used to keep him moving in a straight line.
His actions were certainly curious. He seemed to pivot on the one leg that he kept firmly planted on the floor. His other leg jerked him around in a circle. He looked like some sort of grotesque broken toy circling around in a mad dance. That made Pam think of the way Dr. Klein had seemed to waltz around Preservation Room 17 in the morning. For a moment, Pam stared at him. But she did not intend to wait around for the final dance, and she certainly did not want to be his partner.
She raced back down the hallway towards another set of doors that led to the main entrance at the front of the building. She just prayed that she would not run into another group of these wounded madmen. As she passed Preservation Room 17 again she saw that George was still flinging himself against the door, though he had seemed to slow down like a windup clock losing momentum. The small reinforced window was streaked with blood. George’s nose looked broken. It seemed as if he had torn his own head apart in an effort to move the door, but the simple solution of using the door handle escaped him. Pamela froze for an instant to watch, but then quickly started to trot off again.
She passed Dr. Klein’s office. There was no sign of Karen, the doctor’s omnipresent assistant. Pam felt disappointed because Karen always seemed to know everything about the building before anybody else did. Of course Pam hoped that Karen had made it out of danger in time.
Then Pam paused as she approached the set of double doors that would lead her into the front reception area of the building. If more of these crazy people blocked her way to the outside of the building she would either have to fight her way through or retreat and trap herself in one of the inside rooms. She pushed the door open slowly and was relieved to see that the hallway looked clear all the way up to the lobby.
To Pam’s utter shock she saw Dr. Ada Klein emerge from behind the receptionist’s desk. Even though the building was warm, Pam noticed that Dr. Klein had tied a silk scarf around her neck. She was sure that the doctor’s neck had been bare earlier in the morning. No, that’s not right. She had the scarf on in the morning, but neglected to put it back on after her rendezvous with Enrico.
The younger woman thought that it was an odd time to be concerned with fashioned. As she looked closer, she thought she saw a red stain on the edge of the blue silk. The doctor must have been injured and used the scarf as a makeshift bandage.
Pam stopped through the open door. She lifted the umbrella and then lowered it again when Dr. Klein asked, “Are you expecting rain?”
“Are you kidding me? I just had to use this thing to beat my way out of there. Do you have any idea what’s going on back there?”
“Well, close the door then,” Dr. Klein said. “You will just let the dead in.” Pamela glanced around the lobby as she tried to process her boss’s last
“Oh,” Pam said, “I don’t like that.” Operating purely on adrenaline and instinct, she whirled back. Enrico was only about ten yards away, blocking the corridor. She tapped the umbrella against her right hand to gauge its strength. She believed it was a thick and sturdy golf umbrella, made to stand up under hard use and misuse. She hoped it could stand up under some serious misuse right now.
She tried to sprint past Enrico on the other side of the hallway, but his long legs and arms worked in his favor. As he lunged for her, Pam backhanded his temple with the heavy handle as hard as she could. She had never struck a human or animal like this before. She had played a bit of tennis in high school, and Pam tried to remember how she had delivered her most punishing ball returns. His head, already unsteady, lolled to the side and he seemed to lose his bearings. He did not fall, but took uncertain circular steps as if her blow had taken out some brain function that used to keep him moving in a straight line.
His actions were certainly curious. He seemed to pivot on the one leg that he kept firmly planted on the floor. His other leg jerked him around in a circle. He looked like some sort of grotesque broken toy circling around in a mad dance. That made Pam think of the way Dr. Klein had seemed to waltz around Preservation Room 17 in the morning. For a moment, Pam stared at him. But she did not intend to wait around for the final dance, and she certainly did not want to be his partner.
She raced back down the hallway towards another set of doors that led to the main entrance at the front of the building. She just prayed that she would not run into another group of these wounded madmen. As she passed Preservation Room 17 again she saw that George was still flinging himself against the door, though he had seemed to slow down like a windup clock losing momentum. The small reinforced window was streaked with blood. George’s nose looked broken. It seemed as if he had torn his own head apart in an effort to move the door, but the simple solution of using the door handle escaped him. Pamela froze for an instant to watch, but then quickly started to trot off again.
She passed Dr. Klein’s office. There was no sign of Karen, the doctor’s omnipresent assistant. Pam felt disappointed because Karen always seemed to know everything about the building before anybody else did. Of course Pam hoped that Karen had made it out of danger in time.
Then Pam paused as she approached the set of double doors that would lead her into the front reception area of the building. If more of these crazy people blocked her way to the outside of the building she would either have to fight her way through or retreat and trap herself in one of the inside rooms. She pushed the door open slowly and was relieved to see that the hallway looked clear all the way up to the lobby.
To Pam’s utter shock she saw Dr. Ada Klein emerge from behind the receptionist’s desk. Even though the building was warm, Pam noticed that Dr. Klein had tied a silk scarf around her neck. She was sure that the doctor’s neck had been bare earlier in the morning. No, that’s not right. She had the scarf on in the morning, but neglected to put it back on after her rendezvous with Enrico.
The younger woman thought that it was an odd time to be concerned with fashioned. As she looked closer, she thought she saw a red stain on the edge of the blue silk. The doctor must have been injured and used the scarf as a makeshift bandage.
Pam stopped through the open door. She lifted the umbrella and then lowered it again when Dr. Klein asked, “Are you expecting rain?”
“Are you kidding me? I just had to use this thing to beat my way out of there. Do you have any idea what’s going on back there?”
“Well, close the door then,” Dr. Klein said. “You will just let the dead in.” Pamela glanced around the lobby as she tried to process her boss’s last
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