“You go take care of the toilets on the third floor,” said Jim. The job had not been good to him, Twenty years of pushing a cart, collecting other peoples garbage had left him with little to show for his years on earth. He wore a uniform of khaki pants and a lighter shaded shirt with frayed cuffs and collar.
“Sure.” Sophie would be glad when she could move on. She had no intention of ending up like her boss.
Yuck. She picked up the bundle of towels and held them away from her body. Brown specks almost overpowered the original white. They didn’t smell bad, but then that was only one test of cleanliness.
“Just put them in your bin. Wow. Nitpickle.” Jim, grabbed his own bundle and tossed it on the end of his cleaning cart. “Since you’re so particular, why don’t you go up to the third floor. The toilets there are more pristine than down in the main section. Wouldn’t want you to get your hands dirty.” His sarcasm bit into her.
“Yes sir.” She turned her back to hide the hurt his words struck in her.
The elevator hummed smoothly up three flights. When the door slid open the chilling emblem for Black Mesa Research Facility stood stark with black print against a white background. A rectangular mountain with a circle was all the creativity the logo’s creator displayed. Somehow the simplicity did nothing to ease Sophie’s apprehension. She wondered if daylight hours would decrease the creepiness. Now dark enhanced an eeriness that increased with each step.
Creaking and squeaking down the narrow hallway, Sophie kept her cart as far away from the doorways as possible. Still, it didn’t feel like it was enough.
Yowl
“What?” Sophie jumped. That sounded like some kind of dog, or wolf. There weren’t supposed to be animals on any level in the building. She knew that much. Besides, the job posting had portrayed Black Mesa as an educational facility. The wages were kind of skimpy, but beggars can’t be choosers, she reminded herself. If she’d listened to Grams and spent more time with the books instead of hanging out with the gang or watching TV, maybe she could have gotten a better job. It didn’t matter. Those idiots she’d worked for back then didn’t know their—
“Stop it.” A piercing female voice cut through the silence. “You shouldn’t talk about people like that.”
“Like what?’ Sophie started to back toward the elevator. Why is that voice so familiar? She looked around, trying to find who’d spoken. There was no one in sight.
“Don’t go. It’s lonely up here.” The voice softened. “Come on I’ll help you, then we can talk.” There was a tug on the cleaning cart. The spray bottle on the front tipped and went off for no reason. What should have been the clean refreshing smell of bleach splattered against the wall, bubbling into mounds that popped one by one with an acrid burning smell.
Sophie coughed, overcome with the tiny moist particles that gathered together in a cloud.