CHAPTER 7
Thane made it to the lights quickly-a little too quickly. He hoped no one had seen him scampering down the hallway. He was in uniform after all.
He found himself surrounded by eight doors, four on his left, and four more on his right. Each door had a small square window about head high that emitted a weak but visible beam of light into the dark hallway. None of the doors had latches or handles of any sort, and all were the same grayish color of the walls. In fact, if it weren't for the light beams protruding from them, Thane probably would have missed the doors altogether.
The only door that looked the least bit different was the first one to Thane's left. On this one, directly above the small glass pane, was the number thirty-one. It had been created with shiny new duct tape stuck onto the metal door. It was a savvy job, consisting of nine pieces of the strong adhesive. The edges of the tape were clean and straight. They had been cut with something extremely sharp. The angles were precise, there were no wrinkles in the tape, and the numbers were a goodly size for their purpose. Someone had taken their time with the makeshift door numerals. Thane couldn't remember ever being impressed with duct tape before now.
I like your work . . . whoever you are.
Thane had felt utterly alone since stepping out of the elevator earlier. The lights and the number on the door served as a beacon to his sub-conscious. Other human beings were around here somewhere. He would find them. He stepped forward and peered into door thirty-one.