The Cumberbottom Incident: Rhett and Link

Chapter Ten: Cumber-Chaos

Link's POV-

The vintage elevator doors close slowly in front of us. I stare at my feet and my mind races. I periodically glance at Rhett who's eyes bear a hole into the brushed steel. I can feel the momentum of the elevator dropping down to the floor level that shows up as a dull yellow light on the wall of the elevator. The button reads- BASEMENT. I cringe as the ancient elevator slumps on its cables as we reach the "BASEMENT" floor.

This place must be so old, seeing as the musty smell remains the same and the familiar layer of dust lines yet another hallway we step into as the elevator doors creak open. I almost groan, but decide against it. I am just sick of this whole thing, and I just want to go back to our studio, and my home.

This guy has taken everything. Our phones, our wallets, and has given us a fair amount of sleep deprivation, bruises, and a whole lot of dust. I cough lightly into my fist. I'm not sure I really need to, but I want to at least make a dent on the thick layer of silence that fills the hall. Rhett glances at me and silently says, You saw them right? They escaped!  

He raises his eyebrows is celebration, and the corner of his mouth twitches. It could have been a smile if he tried hard enough. I widen my eyes in response and try to telepathically respond- I know. We need to get out of here.

I still feel like I am being conspicuous even though I haven't said a word. We are abruptly interrupted by Marcus's shrill shouts of glee and he claps his hands rhythmically under his chin. "TIIIME TO START!" I sigh quietly and glance up at Rhett again.

The back of his hand brushes up against mine as we stand so close to each other for mental security, I guess. I can tell by the way he furrows his brow, that it was meant to reassure me but I still have to shake the awkwardness with a couple blinks and a swipe through my hair. 

We walk over to a door. Unlike the rest of the entrances that line the walls, this one is almost polished, and is painted with a dark blue paint I think. Marcus takes a large key out of his pocket and shoves it in the lock and turns it abruptly until the door slams open...

Rhett's POV-

We follow this dude into a large room with tons of people sitting at monitors. The sounds of keyboards being slapped by dozens of hands turns into a dull roar that echoes and bounces off the sterile looking white walls. Of course all the chairs, desks, and even computers are all purple and gold.  Why is everything ghettoized into the same color scheme? 

We follow him past the preying eyes of the "employees". But they could be involuntary abductees as well. This guy is harder than you'd think to figure out.  When we make it to the back of the room, he shouts-"Constantine! Bring up the big screen!" A worried 'Yessir!' echoes across the room.

The "big screen" he was referring to, is a large projection of a pie chart glaring at us from the wall. I squint my eyes as I stare at the thing. The white walls are horrible when bright light is projected on them. Ouch. He slaps his forehead with his palm so loudly, Link and I look at each other and try to stifle a chuckle, which turns into us both fake-coughing. 

"NOT THE PIE CHART! THE TIMELINE YOU MORON!" He groans loudly as the frantic employee fumbles with a remote. When the timeline appears, he regains his most characteristic smile and turns toward us motioning toward the projected upon wall. 

"This my friends, is how we- well I-  analyze my progress in the business and how we measure the fate of our rivals!" He giggles, trying to suppress a small cough that ends up coming anyway.

"So we are gonna help you with this?" Link offers, hands firmly placed in his jean pockets. I decide to add, what could be worse at this point? "Yeah, we never really got an accurate job description when you ever-so-kindly knocked us out and dragged us down here. I don't exactly call that an interview for a corporate video company..."

I know he can't do much to me at this point. We are trapped here anyway. He grimaces like my comment tasted bad. After pulling an inhaler out of his pocket and taking a swig, he sighs and his fists  tightly coil, face reddening. 

"You know, Rex?"

"It's Rhett."

"RRRRHHHEETT. Yes. You need to respect the authority around here, that frankly has more power than both of you combined." He presses his stiff arms to his side. "You will have to get used to not being the boss." I am about to respond, when the room goes black...

Has Stevie really done it? 

Link's POV-

When the lights are out, it's totally black besides the small flickering red dots of dying PCs. Everyone who had pretended to be all tough and expressionless, are now frantic and confused. A mild hysteria fills the room, and I almost join them until I feel Rhett's firm grip on my shoulder. We can get out of here!  I am about to be confused about the whole ordeal, until I hear Rhett's voice, low under the shouts of frustration that fill the room, near my ear: "I think Stevie escaped and took out the power, this is our chance to get out before any generator kicks in." I don't respond, I just follow Rhett. We can't see, so we hold hands as least awkward as we can. This is a matter of freedom or captivity. I can hold his hand for two minutes. 

I hear Marcus's cries of horror as he demands an explanation towards anyone who might be listening in the dark-

"WHAT IS GOING ON?! WHO DID THIS?!" A small voice nervously suggested an answer, but soon regrets it. 

"It appears that the power has been shut off sir. Someone cut the power--"

"I KNOW THAT YOU IMBECILE! FIX IT!" 

"But sir-"

"SHUT UP! OOH YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS..." Another voice penetrates the chaos, "Sir, the generators seem to be out of commission, I think we have lost all power sir." I silently feel bad for the guy who has to deal with Angry Marcus. More yelling ensues. 

We reach a doorway and walk into the hall. LED emergency lights line the floor, but provide little light. I squint in the dark and a headache boils in my temples. Rhett and I separate hands, but we make no comment. Too little time for an awkward moment. I feel a poke on my back and I spin around. My eyes have yet to adjust to the light to make out the figure, but the familiar voice strikes through me clearly:

"Guys," Stevie whispers, "I think we can make it if we move it. Run." 

I have no time to ask questions. Before I know it, I am sprinting through a dim hallway with nothing on my mind but Stevie's words.

Run.