Dead Matter by Anton Strout Page B

could tap into the building,” I suggested. “Its power supply or something?”
    Jane looked hesitant. “Umm … I’m not really sure if I can do that.”
    I shrugged. “Just a suggestion. I thought you might be able to make some small talk with one of their computers, kinda like you did at City Hall.”
    Jane shrugged.
    “Sure,” she said. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll give it a try. Just … pull me away or something if I look a little too comatose at the console, okay?”
    I kissed her forehead. “I’m sure it’ll be fine if you just ask nicely.”
    Jane let her hands hover over the touch screen on the directory kiosk and let out a low whisper of her strange sort of machine language. I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, but between our remote location and the sounds of mall life, no one was even looking in our direction.
    Without warning, Jane let out a low, guttural moan and let her hands fall toward the touch screen. Instead of slamming against it, they sunk into the solidity of the screen as though she were submerging them under water.
    “Jane?” I grabbed her by her arm, only to feel a harsh jolt of electricity hammer into my body, knocking me on my ass. My muscles were twitching and I had a hard time shaking it off, but taking it slow, I got back on my feet. “Jane!”
    Hearing the desperation in my voice seemed to pull her out of her trance. She looked down at her hands and turned to me in a panic, her eyes bugging out.
    “Help … ?” she croaked.
    I started to reach for her again, and she violently shook her head no. “What if my hands come off at the wrist?”
    The muscles in her arms flexed as she tried to pull herself free, but every move she made caused her to sink even farther into the screen.
    “Don’t struggle,” I said. “It’s like quicksand.”
    But Jane was beyond panic now and tugged wildly to free herself.
    I was about to yell at her once again to stop struggling, but when I looked at her I froze. Jane was glowing. A soft white light was spreading up her arms and down her body.
    I had no idea what was going on, but I had to do something, even if it meant taking another serious jolt by touching her. This time, however, I would be ready for it, and I pulled my gloves out and slipped them on. I hoped they would at least reduce the conductivity a little, but a second later, it didn’t matter.
    I reached for Jane, only to be driven back as the white glow intensified into a blinding flash. Not to be deterred, I pushed toward her, but as quick as the flash had come, it was gone. And Jane with it.
    “Jane?”
    I felt around where Jane had just been, hoping that maybe it was some kind of optical illusion, but she was definitely gone. I stepped into the space and placed my hands on the touch screen, but it was as solid as when I had been using it before. My heart started to race as I felt my own panic setting in, and I spun around looking for her. My left foot slipped on something and I fought to keep my balance. I looked down to only see all of Jane’s clothes—her hip-huggers, the RESIDENT EVIL 4 shirt she had been wearing, and on top of the pile, the necklace I had just bought her.
    I scooped up the necklace, clutching it in my hands. There was no pillar of salt or pile of dust or blood. Jane simply was gone.
    “No, no, no,” I said, over and over, not sure what to do next when my cell phone went off. I pulled it out. I had a new text.
    WORST. TOUCHSCREEN. EVER!
    I typed back: WHERE THE HELL RU?
    I slipped her necklace in my coat pocket while I waited. A minute later, my phone went off again.
    NOT SUR THINK IM IN THE BUILDIN.
    WHERE? I typed back. I reached for the kiosk and brought up the mall area map on the touch screen while I waited.
    IN THE BUILDING ITSELF.
    Did she mean inside the actual building?
    RU OK?
    Waiting for an answer to this question had my heart in my throat.
    4 NAO. Then, HELP.
    If I was going to help her, I was going to need help