Free Fall

Free Fall

A Story by Corinne Jones

A little snippet that I had written as proof to myself that I can still sort of write.


The corridor was silent, save for the two teenagers leaning against the wall. The elder girl was dressed from head to toe in grey catsuit and gloves, the other in more formal attire, blending in perfectly with the clothes that the office workers wore.

   Folded into the suitcase that the latter held were a navy skirt and a grey hoodie. Both girls looked tense, even as they lounged against the wall. The former, Elle looked at the latter uncertainly. “Sara, are you sure it’s this one?” she asked, gesturing to the wall. “It looks kind of…are you sure that this one isn’t going to lead me outside and I plunge to my death? Because if so, I’m haunting your a*s.”

   Sara smiled back tightly, looking up and down the hall. Although the hundreds of business-dress workers that had swarmed the building ten hours before and had long since left, Elle could see her twitching.

   “Yes. Now, sometime this summer?” She stepped back, then Elle touched the wall, before exhaling, pushing carefully at the air between her hand and the wall. It was an odd sensation: her hands underneath the gloves went cold and weightless, then they slipped through easily.

   Eyeing her rapidly disappearing arms, she took a step forward, shuddering as the rest of her body was enveloped in the chill. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, passing through. Against her exposed skin at the neck upwards, the space around her felt like water, yet as she exited the wall, her skin felt dry.

   “Weird,” she breathed, then she looked around her, gauging her surroundings. A desk stood to one side of the room, the executive chair placed behind it in the classic position. In the far left corner, overlooking the city, sat a ring of comfy-looking chairs. Along the wall through which she had passed through was a bookcase with tomes labelled wordy titles which bored her with a single glance.

   “You in, Elle?” Zeke asked in her ear, and she hummed in reply, moving in the direction of the desk. The computer’s screen was already lit as Zeke copied files, the mouse zooming around the screen. “Yes. So what am I looking for?”

   She opened the bottom drawer. “This is Alexander Gray’s office, CEO and head of Creep Central. Give me some pointers!”

   “Anything that looks suspicious. Large sums of money, plans, anything," he countered. “Be quick.”

“Fine. Keep me posted.” She began to rifle through the drawer. The name of a file caught her eye about 5 papers down and she paused. Project 1N/75L93A?

   There was a crackle in her earpiece. “Guards coming in the direction of the office. Sara, get out of there.” She could hear Sara protesting over the earpiece even as her heart raced with adrenaline. “Sara, I can take a shortcut. Get going.”

   “Shortcut?” Sara queried, even as Elle heard light thuds in the corridor outside as she began to move away. Elle grabbed at the file, then picked up a loose sheet.

   “Zeke,” she panted, putting the file into her rucksack. She zipped it hastily, hearing the sound of the guards reach the door. “What’s directly below me?” There was a tapping of keys through the earpiece, and Elle shifted from foot to foot. She could hear the guards getting closer and closer.

   The door started rattling and she ducked behind the desk. Come on, come on! Her heart was pounding, somehow louder than the sound of men entering the room. “Nothing for two floors, why?”

   She let her body go cold then she pushed at the floor, suppressing a scream as she dropped through the floor and another, rolling skilfully as she hit the floor. She straightened up carefully, wary. A break room.

   Zeke swore, then she replied in a whisper, “Not the time to marvel. Give me a route, sharpish.”

There was a sudden murmuring outside the door, and Zeke hissed, “The wall with the fridge.” Instinctively, she coiled like a panther and dived for the wall, passing through easily. Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach as she passed through something that wasn’t a wall.

   She ground to a halt and turned to stare at the wide-eyed man, still holding his coffee. “Shh.” She gestured with a finger for quiet, then she carefully put a hand to the floor, pushing at the air and falling through.

   As her feet impacted with the floor, she rolled, then Zeke said, “The lift.” This floor was deserted, she noticed as she strode towards the lift area, willing herself to be shot of this situation already. Suddenly, there was a ding in the area and Zeke swore again, this time with a lot more of cussing of-

“-Torres. You can’t drop, too many people, you’ll get caught.” There was no way out. Elle’s heart reached its maximum speed, thumping furiously. The cop would turn the corner and see her and then it would be game over. Zeke could manipulate the cameras all he wanted, but it would be game over.

   There was no other way, she thought, a window glinting in the fluorescent light. Now or never. “Get ready to catch me,” she breathed, sprinting for the window, she leapt through, propelling herself in mid-air.

   She was in free-fall. Unable to scream, she felt like a parody of a suicide jumper as she plummeted. The wind was howling in her ears, the ground getting rapidly closer and she suddenly wished to be back at home, watching Saturday night trash TV and arguing over the last chicken drumstick with her family. Her real family, whoever they were.

   She could see the van in which Zeke and Sara were sat, waiting for her to make her escape, motionless and inwardly, she cursed. Come on…

   The van side door opened and a figure leant out, arm outstretched towards her. Her body tingled and then suddenly, she was motionless. Her organs jolted and she opened her eyes to see herself less than a metre above the ground.

   “Let me down,” she gasped, stomach roiling. The second that her feet touched the ground, she was dashing to the nearest topiary on the empty square, emptying her stomach rather unceremoniously. 

   “Are you okay?” Zeke asked, a warm hand rubbing her back, then she gasped for air. “Next time, let’s watch you skydive 500 feet sans parachute.”

   “You’re lucky that I caught you,” he countered sharply, but his hands were gentle as they guided her in the direction of the bus.

   “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” she said weakly and after a second, he chuckled. “No, but it’s nice to know.” His voice got more urgent as the door slammed shut. “Get us out of here.”

   The van fired up with a rumble and Elle groaned as the van shot off. She opened her eyes, ignoring the dizziness as she sat up. “Got a file and a sheet of some kind. Project something with lots of numbers and letters. Couldn’t they give it some normal name like Project Indigo or something?”

   Zeke hauled her onto a seat, then divested her of her rucksack, pulling out the information. He looked at the sheet first and cursed, throwing out a hand to steady himself as he read it. "Elle, how do you feel about art galleries?"

© 2012 Corinne Jones

Author's Note

Corinne Jones
Please be honest and if it's not too difficult, painstakingly specific with anything.

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Added on May 28, 2012
Last Updated on May 28, 2012
Tags: suspense, powers, crime, thieves


Corinne Jones
Corinne Jones

Northampton, United Kingdom

Fiction writer with a soft spot for classic poetry. I like Eliot, Pullman, Pratchett and of course, Rowling :) In my free time, I sing, get inspiration and try to pass my A Levels. more..