14
Dale and Hellman’s footsteps echoed so loudly in MacDonald Hall’s vacant concrete halls that they could have found their way by echolocation. Occasional display boards choked with years of staples softened the sound, but as they hiked further from the front hall the conference attendees’ conversations faded into oblivion. Gentle panels of light in the ceiling cast wavering reflections across the tile. Somewhere a floor scrubber growled, thickening the air with fresh wax.
Dale found walking a relief. The simple act of taking one step after another, passing identical doors and lecture halls, gave him a comforting illusion of progress. “Where are we going?”
“I did a couple years here,” Hellman said, leading Dale up a hollow stairwell. His face might claim he had age, but he bounced up l
