Genesis by Keith R. A. DeCandido

downward.
    The screams faded once again into a low buzz. The rumbling went away completely.
    Mark closed his eyes and tried again to get his breathing under control and failed miserably—mainly because he knew what was next. He waited for the inevitable subsequent sound.
    A crunching, explosive noise mixed with wrenched metal and the springing sound of metal cables whipping around. The elevator had hit bottom.
    â€œOh my God.” Ella’s voice sounded hollow and lifeless.
    A description that, Mark feared, would soon apply to this elevator.
    This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen. This was the Umbrella Corporation. They made the best computer equipment and health-care products in the country. They had the wherewithal to build the most amazing underground complex in the history of humanity.
    This was not a company that built elevators that plunged to their doom during fire drills.
    Mark heard a lot of screams. That elevator was full.
    People were dead.
    This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be starting his new dream job, one that would keep him gainfully employed for at least five years.
    People were dead.
    Sure, people died, but not like this. They died in car accidents or plane crashes, like Mark’s Uncle Victor, or of old age or disease like Grandma and Grandpa. They didn’t die during fire drills on their first day at work. That just didn’t happen. Mark refused to believe it.
    Then, all of a sudden, his stomach felt like it was slamming up into his chest as the elevator started plummeting to its doom.
    When he was a kid, Mark always used to love roller coasters. Even as his brothers screamed in joyous panic at the twists and turns the coaster took them on, and yelled in thrilling fear at the feel of the air as it slammed into their faces, Mark would always sit next to them with a big grin on his face. He loved being tossed around like that.
    This panic, however, was nothing like joyous and the fear was quite real.
    So this time, Mark screamed.
    Dimly, he registered that the other occupants of the elevator were also screaming, but that wasn’t as important to Mark as the stunning realization that he was going to die.
    It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was starting a new job. He’d have the job for at least five years. He’dbe gainfully employed. He wouldn’t be living in the misery that his friends were toiling in.
    A screeching sound penetrated the wall of screams, and Mark realized that the emergency brakes were (finally!) kicking in. Moments later, the elevator slammed to a halt, and Mark collapsed to the ground, both his jacket and what was left of his coffee spilling to the floor.
    He clambered quickly to his feet, reveling in the feeling of being alive.
    Peculiarly, the most overwhelming feeling he had was elation that he’d be alive to attend the next Bad Movie Night. In fact, he was determined to go no matter what kind of hoops he had to jump through. The prospect of being able to see Bride of the Monster with his closest friends was suddenly the happiest thought he could have.
    Ella had already risen, and she was now walking to the doors.
    Mark looked up to see that the elevator had apparently stopped on the third floor.
    He then looked over to see that Ella had removed a Swiss Army knife from somewhere on her person, and was using its blade to try to pry open the elevator doors. He was about to offer assistance—Ella was tiny, and couldn’t have had much upper-arm strength—when the doors, with a screeching noise that was eerily similar to the emergency brakes, started to separate.
    She then methodically stuck her fingers between the doors and started to pry them apart. One of the other men got up to give her a hand.
    â€œI can’t get a good grip,” Ella muttered.
    Noticing that there was a blank wall on the other side of the door, Mark said, “We’re not on a floor.”
    â€œYeah, we are.” One