The hallway was dim. A single lightbulb hung loosely from wires on the ceiling. Jimmy Cobb grasped for his flashlight, but it wasn't there, left behind at his kiosk. He squinted ahead.
The sensor went off five minutes earlier. Flickering blue lights on his display board roused him. He sloppily tucked in his tan uniform in as he lumbered through the lobby and into the service elevator that led to the basement.
"I've called the police," he lied.
Quick footfalls echoed from behind. He spun around to see an empty hallway. Hundreds of feet of stone floor twisted out from the elevator, through shadows and around corners to storage rooms and the building's generators. He was the only guard on duty tonight.
"They'll be here in five minutes," he whispered.