56
Darkness swallowed Dale.
After the bright fluorescent overheads, the room looked pitch-black. Dale’s screen cast a trapezoid of light into the darkness, but the sudden shift left Dale blinking and unable to see anything beyond that rectangle.
The omnipresent, unnoticeable hum of the air handlers died.
In their place, unintelligible shouts rose from the darkness.
Dale would have to squeeze past six other people—and at his size, squeeze was an understatement.
Someone shouted angrily.
A dull thud rocked the darkness, followed by a cry of pain.
People were moving. Panicking. Someone had just gotten hurt—bumping into someone? Falling down the stairs? Or both?
Chase Surge?
Other people were closer. And Surge had muscle. Dale was stubborn, but by the time Dale could get in the aisle,
