Chapter 6 - Into the Ductwork
Mark pulled two heavy wooden crates from beneath the lowest shelf, stacking them directly beneath the evaporator unit. He stood on the top crate, hoisting Toby up onto his shoulders.
The cold air blowing directly out of the fan unit hit Toby like a wall of ice, making the boy gasp for air.
"Use the spatula, Toby!" Mark yelled over the roar of the compressor fan. "Pry open the side casing!"
Toby jammed the flat metal edge of the spatula into the seam between the plastic vent cover and the aluminum wall frame. He pushed with all his weight, his small fingers numb and stiff from the cold. The cheap plastic groaned, cracked, and finally snapped away with a sharp pop, revealing a narrow, rectangular opening leading into the building's sheet-metal ventilation shaft.
"I did it!" Toby called down, his voice echoing inside the duct.
"Crawl in, baby!" Lucy called up from the floor, her voice growing weak as hypothermia began to slow her speech. "Follow the light! The kitchen hallway is straight ahead!"
Toby wiggled his small shoulders into the dark, narrow metal tunnel. The sheet metal was freezing to the touch, scraping against his jeans and hoodie as he dragged himself forward on his elbows. Dust and ice crystals coated the inside of the duct, making him cough.
Behind him, inside the freezer, Mark stepped down from the crates, his legs shaking violently as cold deep into his muscles. He sat beside Lucy on the freezing floor, pulling her against his chest, wrapping his heavy navy polo and arms around her frame to pool their remaining body heat.
"He's going to make it, Lucy," Mark whispered, his lips so stiff he could barely articulate the words. "He's strong. He's just like you."
Inside the ductwork, Toby crawled five feet forward until he reached a junction point. The metal pipe split into two directions: to the left, a dark shaft led toward the roof compressors; to the right, light shimmered through a small stamped metal grille illuminating the main kitchen hallway.
Toby squeezed toward the right, pressing his face against the metal grille.
Through the narrow slits of the vent, he saw the main kitchen. Victoria was standing near the chef's counter, calmly putting on a white apron over her black blazer. She was speaking on her cell phone, her tone light, elegant, and completely untroubled.
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"Yes, Detective," Victoria was saying into the phone, her voice carrying up into the vent. "I just wanted to follow up on the missing persons report for Lucy. Her husband Mark took their son this morning... I suspect they might have left the state together to avoid the audit."
Toby’s small hands gripped the inside of the vent grille. A wave of pure anger, hotter than the freezing cold around him, washed through his small chest.
