"But hospitals have back-up generators, right? Hence the emergency lighting." He stepped to the control panel. "Which means the elevator should work too."
She shook her head. "The generators are usually only meant to power vital medical equipment, like in ICU."
Not wanting to accept that as the case, he pushed the button for the main floor again.
A clank sounded above them, and the gears made a grinding sound, but the elevator didn’t move.
The woman let out a groan and slumped against the wall.
A sinking sensation swooped through Damon's stomach. He pushed the button again.
Nothing. No clank. No grind.
He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, so he could better see the control panel. He pushed the button to open the doors.
Nothing happened.
He bit back the swear word that was on the tip of his tongue. Besides being in the presence of a lady, he'd promised God on that night six years ago in Kabul that he would turn his life around if He would spare him and give him another chance.
Despite the changes he'd made in his life, he still struggled with the cussing. He was in the military after all, and this situation certainly warranted a little colorful language.
"Are we...are we trapped in here?" Her stilted words were strained.
"Afraid so, but it's okay. We'll just hit the call button, and they'll get this thing moving in no time." Faking confidence he didn't feel, he pushed it.
A faint beep sounded.
"Hello?" Damon leaned toward the control panel.
No answer.
He was about to push it again when he heard another faint beep. Then another.
"They must be away from the phone." Tension filled the woman's voice.
Knowing it wouldn't do any good but needing to do something, he pushed the button again.
The beep sounded again, but it was fainter than before. What did that mean?
He tried to force his fingertips into the crack between the doors. If he could pry them apart even a tiny bit, maybe it would trigger a reset button or something.
If they could get off the elevator, they could take the stairs. He'd be a gentleman and offer to carry the lady's basket. Heck, he'd give her a piggyback ride down three flights of stairs if it meant he could get home to his mom's cinnamon rolls.
But the doors were sealed tighter than Fort Knox. He patted his pockets, searching for his knife or the multi-purpose tool he always carried, then he groaned. He'd packed them in his checked bag this morning, so they wouldn't be confiscated at airport security. All he had in his pocket was a BIC lighter—another emergency essential—and the key fob for his rental car. Neither of which were of use in this situation.
"Hello?" A man's voice came from the control panel.
"Yes, hello." Damon bent down and put his face next to the panel. "We're stuck in the elevator."
"Battery back...failed...no signal...can't see...elevator."
"What did he say?" Damon looked at the woman only to find her expression as bewildered as his.
"Hang tight...get to you...we can...wide...power out...influx...emergencies..." A quiet beep signaled the end of the connection.
"Wait." Damon pushed the button again, but the beep was so faint this time he could hardly hear it. "Hello?"
"I don't think he'll a-answer again." The woman's voice trembled.
