Page 21 of It's a Brewtiful Day

The dots connected between the words he wasn’t vocalizing. Actions were often stronger than words. Elliot was afraid of the dark. Not quite at my storm level, but not far off. Not that I could blamehim, really. Even when it was dark in the basement of my house, there was still enough ambient lighting to help me quickly adapt.

But not in the Coffee Loft. It was darker than it was quiet as the winds were still whipping around outside, and the further away from the window we stepped, the darker it became. And also the eerier the silent void became.

I reached out and grabbed his hand again, leaning closer to him. “Let’s get your phone. Together.”

It was a totalyou helped me so I’ll help youmoment, and I didn’t care. Together we survived that storm, and together we’d get into the back and find his phone.

Resigned with fallen shoulders, Elliot stood near the door with theStorage Roomsign glued onto it.

It was a good thing I’d been a frequent customer and had already taken the place in before today. At least I knew where I was going and could take charge. For the moment. If another storm hit, we were in big trouble.

My eyes were growing used to the darkness, and I was beginning to make out more defined edges in the shadows, but still, it was like looking through sunglasses in a dark room. With nightfall outside and zero lights due to the power failure, there wasn't a nighttime glow to help navigate. That was a reason Jasper was a dark sky preserve—they had very little light pollution as it was when there was power.

While still holding his hand, I tapped around the edge of the storage room door until I touched the plastic keypad cover. “Found it. What’s the code?”

“2. 4. 0. 3. 2. 1.” Each number was punctuated with a short breath.

What lay beyond the door that worried him? Was it something I should worry about as well? Swallowing down the rampant thoughts that circulated inside my head, I inhaled slowly and repeated the numbers over.

I flipped the cover up and hovered my finger over the buttons. There was no working indicator light on, and when I pressed my ear to the keypad, there was no hum either. Nothing to suggest it was working.

Best case scenario? It was battery-operated and we could get in, locate Elliot’s bag and phone, and call for help. Worst case? Pretty much the same as doing nothing at all.

A thought—a proper thought this time—entered my brain. Not all keypads were ordered in the same way. “Wait, is the one in the top left corner or bottom left?”

“I don’t know.” His grip tightened. “I never thought about it.”

“It’s one of those things we take for granted.” That elicited a small chuckle. Good. “Take a deep breath and try to picture it. Please.” With my phone, the number one was top left, but with the keypad at work, the number one was on the bottom left.

Elliot gently pushed me to the side and pressed the buttons. “Let me try. Let’s see if muscle memory is a real thing.”

I hoped it was.

Six buttons later, the noisy locking mechanisms twisted back and when Elliot turned the handle, the door opened.

“We’re in.”

“You did it. Fantastic!” I’d air punch the space, but somehow, I didn’t feel super victorious just yet. Instead, I bumped shoulders with him.

Elliot briefly relaxed his hand but only to thread his fingers through mine.

“We’ve got this.”

I stepped into the room, which was darker than dark if that were possible. Even with my hand in front of my face, I couldn’t make it out. I took a few steps into the cavernous area, sliding my feet against the floor with each step.

“Okay, where do I need to go?”

“Straight.”

“Which way is straight?” I stepped back until I touched the door.

It was truly going to be the blind leading the blind, and my heart was racing. I hated not being able to see, and who knew what lurked in the shadows? Could be monsters? Or giant bugs? I shuddered at either thought, although I’d prefer monsters. It was almost like Elliot’s own manifestations were rolling off him, andI was inhaling him. I needed to stop and focus on the task at hand.

“You okay?” Elliot was hugging my right side; his warm breath was laboured as if he’d run up a flight of stairs.

“Hunky dory, you?”

“I just want to get out of here.” He shivered and let go of my hand.