The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (motivational novels .TXT) 📕

light finally came off. I glanced down at the clock by the door—seven minutes left. I placed the light carefully on the table—the last thing I needed was for it to shatter. Then I dug another hand into my bag and pulled out a foil package. I felt four heavy cylindrical objects inside as I stuffed the package through the gaping hole in the ceiling. I positioned them just by the edge, easy for me to reach in a hurry. Then I stooped down for the light fitting and worked as quickly as I could to reposition the screws. It was depressing to think I'd have to go through this all again on the night of the banquet.

The buzzer vibrated in my pocket just as I had one screw left.

Ugh. Screw you, Lee. I'm almost done…

I had the screw at just the right angle. If I let go, I'd have to start this one again, and I was running dangerously low on time. I spent the next minute refining the angle before leaping down to the floor and tucking the chair beneath the table where I'd found it.

The pager had vibrated twice more since then. When I pulled out the device from my pocket and checked it, my blood ran cold.

"GET OUT OF THE LAB!!!"

My heart in my throat, I grabbed the bag and bolted for the door.

Out of the lab? What does that even mean? Out of this particular lab, or out of the building?

But as I reached within ten feet of the exit, I froze. Footsteps sounded outside. I should have checked the pager the second Lee sent the first message. It was too late now. I was trapped.

I looked frantically around the room for a hiding place. I had no time to even consider whether diving beneath the table closest to me would be the best option. A few seconds after I'd slid beneath the furniture, the door glided open. Footsteps entered.

I clasped a palm over my mouth, trying to stifle my breathing. A man in corduroy pants walked past my table, continuing down the aisle. He was dragging behind him a suction cleaner. Why hadn't Lee known about it? I was trusting him blindly. He was supposed to have thought through all this. I'm putting my life in that man’s hands!

The intruder walked to the end of the aisle and started up the machine. The room filled with white noise.

My fingers unsteady, I reached for my pager and punched in a message. "STUCK INSIDE. WHAT NOW?"

I stared down tensely at the device after sending it. Come on, man!

Lee's reply arrived forty seconds later:

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE."

What? For how long?

The cleaner was moving slowly but steadily toward my end of the room. He was cleaning thoroughly, too, making sure that he got every last bit of dirt out from underneath the tables.

He was going to find me.

Just as I was contemplating darting beneath a different table—one further away that would hopefully buy me some more time—the door opened again, and in stepped a second cleaner… also with a suction machine. He started cleaning much closer to me. At the rate he was sweeping across the floor, he was going to reach me in less than a minute.

"TRAPPED," I paged.

I clutched the device, waiting with bated breath for Lee's response. It wasn't coming.

The second cleaner arrived within five feet. Then four. Then three. Then…

The suction broom took its first swipe beneath my table, missing my left foot by a fraction. Clutching the bag, I spread myself as flat against the wall as I could, leaving as little of me touching the ground as possible. But it wasn't going to be enough. The machine moved forward again, this time aimed directly at my feet. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, I closed my eyes, steeling myself for the impact while hoping against hope that he might mistake me for a table leg.

The broom hit me. But as it did, an alarm rang out, so loud it felt like my eardrums would split.

Although the broom had touched me, the guy became too distracted to check what he'd hit. He dropped the machine, and so did his colleague. The two of them rushed out of the room.

I took a moment to steady my breathing, drawing in a long, quiet breath.

Then I moved forward and peered out from under the table. Now I needed to get out while I could.

Making sure that my mustache, beard and hair were still on straight—just in case I got spotted outside—I left my spot beneath the table and headed for the door. But for the second time, it opened before I could reach it. There hadn't even been footsteps to warn me. I didn't even have time to throw myself under a table.

It was Lee and I had never been happier to see that man. He scanned the lab wide-eyed before taking my arm and pulling me out of the room.

The corridor was empty, but he did not head back to the same stairwell that I had come up. Instead we moved in the opposite direction down another hallway, before reaching a red door. As Lee opened it, a damp breeze swiped at my face. It led outside, to a narrow metal staircase scaling the back wall of the building. Lee pulled me outside into the rain and we clambered down the steps as fast as we dared.

Then, as we kept close to the wall and pulled on our raincoats, Lee led me back to the parking lot. Reaching the car, he opened up the front passenger door. I collapsed inside, stowing the bag beneath my knees. I expected Lee to take a seat next to me and immediately drive off, but instead he whispered, "I'll be back in a minute. I have to go back in and restart the cameras."

He swept back to the building and through the glass doors. He didn't take long. Three minutes later he was back in the car and