And Then There Were Five

PROLOGUE

There were six of them in the hotel room that night, each one having found themselves there for a different reason. For some, it was an escape. It was Saturday, after all – a cold and stormy night in the midst of October. But nonetheless, still an opportunity to be seized. Others, however, were brought to the hotel that night for other reasons.

They had arrived back from the nightclub around quarter after one. Usually they would have stayed out later, made the most of the night, but certain circumstances had brought them back early. Together, they lounged around the quaint hotel room, eating Thai food out of takeout containers, and pouring shots of tequila regardless of the fact that they were all far past their limits.

The night had initially started off with only four of them in the hotel room. But by 1:45 a.m., there were six of them: McKenna Macintosh, Carter Ford, Rylie Hampton, Isaac Rodkin, Emmalyn Fitzgerald, and Noelle White.

They were sound asleep when the noise began: a piercing, drilling sound that woke them from their slumber immediately. The fire alarm. It was McKenna who awoke first, jolting from her bed and reaching for her cellphone. She clicked on the home-screen to check the time: 4:21 a.m.

Everyone was delirious and still drunk from the alcohol that had yet to wear off, partially awake, but still wondering if this was all some sort of dream. They stumbled around the hotel room, hopping around on one foot as they scoured the place for that second missing high-heel or shoe. Two of them were already out the door and down the hallway within seconds, leaving the remaining group to fend for themselves. The question running through everyone's minds: what on earth is going on?

The elevators were down, resulting in all of the hotel occupants needing to take the stairs. Thirteen flights, they walked hastily downwards, feeling as though the staircase was never-ending. Finally, they reached the bottom and made it through the doors to the outside world.

The air was cold and sharp on their faces; a relief for some, a wake-up for others. It is said that the cold weather can sober you almost instantly. They had all lost track of each other at one point or another, each one could be found standing on different parts of the street. Three firetrucks were parked outside, and they watched simultaneously as the firemen hustled into the building.

Crowds of people lined the street, each one as tired and confused as the next. Everyone from the hotel had been evacuated now, and it was up to the firemen to find the source of the problem.

It didn't take long, however, for them to come to their conclusion: it was a false alarm. There wasn't any fire in the building at all. Someone must have pulled the fire-alarm by accident. Or on purpose. But who would ever know?

They each made their way back to the hotel room on the thirteenth floor, getting lost in the crowds of people, carrying their cold feet as best as they could.

They made it back to the hotel room, one after another, closing and locking the door behind them. Some flopped backwards onto their beds. Others went straight to the mini-fridge to get a bottle of water. They had just hiked thirteen flights of stairs, after all. It was exhausting.

If you looked around the room right then, you almost wouldn't be able to tell that something was amiss. Drunk people lying on beds, chugging water bottles, grabbing more blankets. It was an almost-ordinary scene playing out in front of you. However, there was one thing that was conceivably wrong, and it didn't take a mathematician to figure it out. When they left the room, there were six of them. But now, as they all turned their heads, surveying the room in unison, silently figuring this very fact out, it was apparent that someone was missing. There were now only five.