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by Scott Normandin
He opened his eyes, and the light on
the box was off, and Roger was still pointing
the gun at him.
Roger again spoke into the phone; "I
just bypassed the switch for the explosives
in Mr. Jamestone's chair. He can go."
Tom jumped out of the chair and ran to
the door. His legs were weak and he stumbled
through the doorway. He had no feeling left
in his legs but he was going to get out
of there if he had to crawl out. Tom fumbled
down the hall, using his arms to brace himself
against things to get to the elevator. He
pushed the button and the doors opened and
he fell onto the elevator car's floor with
a heavy thud. He reached up to push the
button for the first floor and he felt a
hysterical giggle emerge from his throat
as the doors closed.
Inside the office, Roger was still on
the phone, "You know officer? It's
funny how they say that photographers have
such a good eye for detail. I find that's
not the case. This particular guy is no
exception. He was just a dumb kid with a
camera and no soul at the right place at
the right time."
The elevator had reached the ground floor
and the doors opened. At the end of the
hall, Tom could see the lights of the police
cars through the glass doors in the lobby.
He was almost free and clear. If he could
just make it to those doors he could put
it behind himself. His legs were giving
out beneath him as he forced himself to
stay upright and make each step to the front
door.
He giggled again and said out loud, "You
dumb son of a bitch, now you are going to
go to prison and I am still going to make
myself bigger and better. Matter of fact,
you old dumb ass, can you imagine how much
more money I am going to make because of
all this?"
He continued to talk to himself as he
made his way toward the doors of freedom
ahead. "The talk shows, the book deals,
ha ha ha, maybe even a movie deal! You on
the other hand will be either dead or in
prison!"
Roger still held up the gun, pointing
it at no one while he held the phone to
his ear. He spun his chair around like a
small child on a merry-go-round. "You
see officer, I showed him the bomb, three
sticks of dynamite under his chair, but
it never dawned on him to ask the question
where the other three sticks were. You see,
I told him that I got six sticks of dynamite.
"Well, I will tell you where they
are, officer. They are in the light fixture
above the front door." Roger flipped
the second toggle switch on the small box,
and a different button illuminated. "I
just armed the one above the door as well
as this one in my office. When that front
door opens and triggers the motion detector
on the light outside, it will trigger both
bombs. Taking him and me with them."
Tom was now closing the distance to the
front door, the strength in his legs was
coming back and his speed increased. He
could feel his heart pounding, as he knew
he was nearing the end of his ordeal.
Roger chuckled into the phone, "I
just wanted to give him his last wish. I
know the press is out there, and he always
wanted to be in the papers the rest of his
life, and soon his dead body will be displayed
all over the front pages. I am telling you
all this because you have no time to disarm
the bomb, and no way to stop him"
Tom was closing the gap on the door,
he reached out and grabbed the handle and
saw the police waving to him outside unaware
they were trying to stop him. He had made
it! He yelled to the police outside as loud
as he could with all the breath he had left,
"I'm okay! I made it! I am free!"
Then he pushed open the doors.
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