Gemotions

The steel doors slammed shut with a metallic clang, the lights flickered, and then went dark. Amelia’s hand immediately shot out, her fingers probing the edges of the panel. She needed to know the status. "Are you alright, Mark?" she asked, her voice tight. The emergency call button was next. She pressed it repeatedly, keeping her thumb held down a little longer each time, as if that would somehow make the connection.

Mark just groaned. Amelia took a deep breath. She glanced at the tiny, unmoving digital display above the door. If the power failure was isolated, then there was a chance of the doors opening manually, but she’d need some light. She patted her pockets. No phone. She started tapping them again, systematically. Nothing.

Her pulse hammered in her ears. She started pacing the confined space, each stride measured and purposeful, her eyes darting between the emergency panel and the closed doors. She was scanning for a way out. She stopped to listen to sounds that might indicate anyone was coming to help.