Jennifer Steel, Agent of the F.S.I.A. Chapter 7

 

She found a six-foot steel door twenty minutes later. A thick wooden bar across it sealed the portal. She lifted the bar up and tossed it to one side, swinging the door silently on well-oiled hinges. She stepped through and had to turn on her flashlight again. As she played the light around the room, she discovered it was very similar to a basement. Overhead were air ducts, support beams and spider-webs (abandoned and otherwise). The walls were rough and unpainted. Hard-packed dirt made the floor. She walked for so long her legs were starting to burn. Finding a wooden door, she walked though. Inside was a candle lit room with a comfortable looking bed, a small table with a delectable looking steak, mashed potatoes and a glass of wine, and a thick cushioned recliner. Jennifer realized she was suddenly tired and hungry. She went to the chair and collapsed into it, tearing into the steak and potatoes as if she hadn’t eaten in days. The old saw about adrenaline spiking hunger was true. She reached for the wine glass, but it suddenly doubled. Suddenly, her head felt heavy and muzzy. She pushed away from the table and tried to stand, but she collapsed to the floor instead. ‘Someone help me!’ Before it registered that she hadn’t made a sound, blackness overcame her.

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