A Witch In Time by Madelyn Alt

thinking. Now, about this elevator . . .” I reminded him.
    He laughed. I sighed. I suppose it was a good thing someone could see the humor in the situation.
    “Sorry,” he said, only I knew that he wasn’t, really. “Well, jeez, Maggie, I don’t know. Is there an emergency button?”
    One big, bright red plastic button at the bottom of the button panel. Check. “Yes.”
    “You could try that.”
    Hm. In movies, any big red button, when pushed, made a horrific, earsplitting clamor. “There are people sleeping, Marsh.”
    “Well, okay. I mean, if you want to spend the night on the floor of the elevator until someone figures out that it’s not running . . .”
    I glanced down at the floor. Ew. “They would miss me long before that could happen,” I said confidently. “Besides, my boyfriend’s on it. I called him first.”
    “Oh, well hey. Why didn’t you say so? You’ve got everything under control. Just a matter of time.”
    I could hear from the unspoken undercurrent in Marshall’s voice that I was losing his interest. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
    “Who, me? Nope. Not at all. Just ... just got out of the shower here and I’m dripping all over the floor, that’s all.”
    “All right. I guess you can’t help me. Thanks anyway. Go dry off.”
    “‘Kay. Talk to you later, sis. Oh, and let me know how goes it with Mel.”
    He hung up so fast I didn’t even get to say the word “good-bye.” So much for big brother as distraction. Or even elevator expert.
    I was about to try Marcus again when my phone buzzed in my hand with a new text message. From Marshall, I discovered when I clicked through the menus to read it. “Almost there, darling... Meet me at the elevators. Can’t wait.”
    Oh-ho-ho, Darling?!
    Marshall, Marshall, Marshall. Someone has a leetle ‘splainin’ to do.
    Smirking at the misrouted message in spite of my momentarily forgotten duress, I texted back: Would be happy to meet you at the elevators, darling, if I wasn’t currently stuck inside one. Can’t wait to hear about this one, BTW Much love, Maggie,
    I wondered if my mother knew about Darling.
    I would bet ... not.
    Good leverage, that.

Chapter 5
     
     
     
     
    I was tempted to leave my phone open as a makeshift flashlight to chase away the shadows that felt as though they were closing in on me ... but then caution started waving at me from the sidelines. What if it took longer than just a few minutes for them to first find me and then get me out? I didn’t even know what floor I was on. Or even whether I was on any one floor at all. Who knew how long it might take? Maybe I’d better take caution’s advice and conserve battery power, just in case. Only use it if I needed to.
    It was just a little bit of darkness after all.
    In a completely unfamiliar, closed-in space.
    It wasn’t that I was claustrophobic. It wasn’t even that I was afraid of the dark. A year ago, I would probably have been able to talk myself out of any niggling fear that might crop up in a similar situation. But now...
    It was more the absolute certainty I felt that there was activity here—spirit activity—that had me on edge. With years and years of accumulated people energy, who knew how many traumatic passings within these walls, and potential unfinished business around every corner, was it any wonder that others still walked these halls? I felt it here, in the elevator with me, too. Not any one inquisitive or watchful spirit in particular, but that insidious buzz of stray vibrations along my nerve endings, just skimming along the surface.
    For me, hospitals were little better than funeral homes, or cemeteries.
    And there I was, alone, without a flashlight. Except...ooh!
    I had nearly forgotten the slick little LED light I kept attached to my key ring. With a cry of triumph, I dug it out of my handbag, and fumbled around with the keys until I found the right attachment. With a flick of the miniature Perma-On switch, the tiniest brilliant