against the building wall. Jeannie knelt by the square hole and leaned down to look inside.
A ladder led down to a dirty room lit by fluorescent tubes. She could see machinery and lots of pipes. There were wisps of smoke in the air, but not thick clouds: it must be closed off from the rest of the basement. Nevertheless the smell of the smoke reminded her of how she had coughed and choked as she had searched blindly for the staircase, and she felt her heart beat faster at the memory.
"Is anybody there?" she called.
She thought she heard a sound but she could not be sure. She shouted louder. "Hello?" There was no reply.
She hesitated. The sensible thing to do would be to return to the front of the building and grab a fireman, but that could take too long, especially if the fireman decided to question her. The alternative was to go down the ladder and take a look.
The thought of reentering the building made her legs weak. Her chest still hurt from the violent spasms of coughing caused by the smoke. But Lisa might be down there, hurt and unable to move, or trapped by a fallen timber, or just passed out. She had to look.
She steeled her nerve and put a foot on the ladder. Her knees felt weak and she almost fell. She hesitated. After a moment she felt stronger, and she took a step down. Then a breath of smoke caught in her throat, making her cough, and she climbed out again.
When she had stopped coughing, she tried again.
She went down one rung, then two. If the smoke makes me cough, I'll just come right out again, she told herself. The third step was easier, and after that she went down quickly, jumping off the last rung onto the concrete floor.
She found herself in a big room full of pumps and filters, presumably for the swimming pool. The smell of smoke was strong, but she could breathe normally.
She saw Lisa right away, and the sight made her gasp.
She was lying on her side, curled up in the fetal position, naked. There was a smear of what looked like blood on her thigh. She was not moving.
For a moment Jeannie was rigid with fear.
She tried to get hold of herself. "Lisa!" she shouted. She heard the shrill overtone of hysteria in her own voice and took a breath to keep calm. Please, God, let her be all right. She made her way across the room, through the tangle of pipework, and knelt beside her friend. "Lisa?"
Lisa opened her eyes.
"Thank God," Jeannie said. "I thought you were dead."
Slowly Lisa sat up. She would not look at Jeannie. Her lips were bruised. "He ... he raped me," she said.
Jeannie's relief at finding her alive was replaced by a sick feeling of horror that gripped her heart. "My God. Here?"
Lisa nodded. "He said this was the way out."
Jeannie closed her eyes. She felt Lisa's pain and humiliation, the sense of being invaded and violated and soiled. Tears came to her eyes, and she held them back fiercely. For a moment she was too weak and nauseated to say anything.
Then she tried to pull herself together. "Who was he?"
"A security guy."
"With a spotted scarf over his face?"
"He took it off." Lisa turned away. "He kept smiling."
It figured. The girl in khaki pants had said a security guard felt her up. The lobby guard was sure there were no other security people in the building. "He was no security guard," Jeannie said. She had seen him jogging away just a few minutes ago. A wave of rage swept over her at the thought that he had done this dreadful thing right here, on the campus, in the gymnasium building, where they all felt safe to take off their clothes and shower. It made her hands shake, and she wanted to chase after him and strangle him.
She heard loud noises: men shouting, heavy footsteps, and the rush of water. The firemen were operating their hoses.
"Listen, we're in danger here," she said urgently. "We have to get out of this building."
Lisa's voice was a dull monotone. "I don't have any clothes."
We could die in here! "Don't worry about clothes, everyone's half-naked out there." Jeannie scanned the room hastily and saw Lisa's red lace brassiere and panties in a dusty heap beneath a tank. She picked them up. "Put your underwear on. It's dirty, but it's better than nothing."