Page 61 of Homebound
“The second floor,” the guard repeated firmly.
“It can’t be. There must be a mistake.”
The guard looked up with cold eyes. “I remember you, McKinley. Always questioning me. You’re on the second floor.” She pointed at the stairs indicating for Gemma to move along.
Gemma’s mouth opened, “But…”
The guard’s scowl turned mean. “You wanted to say something?”
Gemma closed her mouth and moved away.
Her cold hands were clammy. It was hard to breathe. She felt faint and nauseous, and the walls were spinning around in circles. She stopped and stood by the stairs as other helpers brushed past her on their way to their assigned cell blocks.
The lobby emptied.
She had to move. She had to go. Do something.
Placing one foot on the first stair, Gemma mounted it and repeated the process with her other foot on the second stair. And so on. She kept climbing, going past the second floor, ignoring everything but the blind need to see Simon. That need could not be ignored.
On the third floor, she pressed her hand on the scanner but it remained dark and silent. She tried it with the other hand to the same result. She even pulled the door handle on the outside chance it might open. It didn’t.
Her access to the third floor had been revoked.
She slid down like melted cheese to sit on the stairs, fighting tears, fighting panic. Putting her face into her hands, she breathed in and out pulling herself together. He was so close! Only this door separated them. Ruby and Arlo would be doing a roll call now. Was he awake? Would he wonder where she’d gone to?
She felt raw as if the skin was stripped clean off her body in one rough yank leaving all of her nerves exposed.
“It’s okay, Gemma, you’re okay,” she whispered to herself. “It’s not the end of the world.”
Despite no longer being on the same floor, she and Simon would continue to inhabit the same building. Sooner or later she’d find a way to get near him. It was just the unexpected shock of the reassignment that temporarily robbed her of rational thought.
It wasn’t the end of the world.
Feeling more grounded, she rose and took the stairs down to the second floor. She had to carry on or risk being fired, andthatwould be the end of the world.
Her appearance caused a flurry of welcome and despite the gloom of her yearning, Gemma was glad for the opportunity to visit the people she used to work with. She remembered not wanting to be reassigned for the first time, could easily recall her shock and distaste at the prospect of working with the aliens.
Ironic, that.
The second floor, women’s, adhered to a much more relaxed schedule. After the roll call, the cells were opened and the prisoners could mingle and hang out in the corridor or visit each other’s cells, which made for a more sociable and enjoyable experience. Only now, after having spent time away, was Gemma able to perceive and appreciate the lack of aggression in the air.
It didn’t matter. Her heart was upstairs.
“How was it up there?” women peppered her with questions.
“It was fine. Same as here in many ways.”
“Are the aliens scary?”
“Some are but you get used to them.”
“Are there interesting ones worth banging?” She got that question a lot.
“Nope.”
“Aww, c’mon. We heard some dudes are hung. Is it true?”
“Weeeell…”Hung, she knew on good authority, didn’t always equalbangable.
