The Zero Game

Viv keeps running. I stay where I am. By my feet, a trio of thin steel wires runs along the floor of the balcony, just outside the windows. During the winter, the maintenance division sends a small electric current through the wiring to melt the snow and prevent the ice from piling up. During the rest of the year, the wires just sit there, useless. Until now. Squatting down, I press my knuckles against the floor and grab the wires. As Janos runs, I hear his shoes pounding against the roof.

“He’s right around the corner!” Viv yells from her perch on the catwalk.

That’s what I’m counting on. Tugging up like I’m curling a barbell, I pull the wires as hard as I can. The staples that hold them in place pop through the air. The metal wiring goes taut, rising a few inches from the ground. Perfect ankle height.

Just as Janos turns the corner, his legs slam into the wiring. At his speed, the thin metal slices into his shins. For the first time, he yells out in pain. It’s not much more than a muted roar, but I’ll take it. Tumbling forward, he skids face first against the ground. The sound alone is worth it.

Before he can get up, I leap toward him, gripping him by the back of his head and pressing his face against the burning-hot green copper floor. As his cheek hits, he finally screams – a guttural rumble that vibrates against my chest. It’s like trying to pin a bull. Even as I grab the back of his neck, he’s already on his knees, climbing to his feet. Like a trapped panther, he lashes out, swiping a meaty paw at my face. I duck back, and his knuckles barely connect with a spot below my shoulder, just under my armpit. It doesn’t hurt – but as my entire right arm tingles and goes numb, I realize that’s where he was aiming all along.

“Harris, run!” Viv shouts from the catwalk.

She’s right about that. I can’t beat him one-on-one. I spin back toward Viv and sprint as fast as I can. My arm’s dead, flapping lifelessly at my side. Behind me, Janos is still on the ground, clawing at the wires. As I race toward the metal staircase that leads up to the roof, a half-dozen more staples pop through the air. He’ll be loose in seconds.

“C’mon!” Viv yells, standing on the edge of the top step and waving me up.

Using my good arm to hold the railing, I scutter up the stairs to the catwalk that zigzags across the roof. From here, with the dome at my back, the flat roof of the Senate wing is spread out in front of me. Most of it’s covered with air ducts, vents, a web of electrical wiring, and a handful of scattered rounded domes that rise like waist-high bubbles from the rooftop. Weaving through all of it, I follow the catwalk as it curves around the edge of the small dome that’s right in front of us.

“You sure you know where you’re-?”

“Here,” I say, cutting to the left, down an offshoot of metal stairs that takes us off the catwalk and back down to a different section of the balcony. Thank God neoclassical architecture is symmetrical. Along the wall on my left, there’s a corresponding window that’ll take us back into the building.

I kick the window frame as hard as I can. The glass shatters, but the frame holds. Pulling some glass out to get a good handhold, I yank as hard as I can. I can hear the pounding of Janos’s feet up on the catwalk.

“Pull harder!” Viv yells.

The wood splinters in my hands, and the window flies open, swinging toward me. The pounding’s getting closer.

“Go…” I say, helping Viv slide inside. I’m right behind her, landing hard as I hit the gray-carpeted floor. I’m in someone’s office.

A stocky coworker comes rushing to the door. “You can’t be in here-”

Viv shoves him aside, and I fall in right behind her. As a page, Viv knows the inside of this place as well as anyone. And the way she’s running – sharp turns without a pause – she’s not trailing anymore. She’s leading.

We cut through the main welcoming area of the Senate curator’s office and fly down a curving narrow staircase that echoes as we run. Trying to stay out of sight, we jump down the last three steps and duck out on the third floor of the Capitol. The closed door in front of us is marked Senate Chaplain. Not a bad place to hide. Viv tries the doorknob.

“It’s locked,” she says.

“So much for your prayers.”

“Don’t say that,” she scolds.

There’s a loud thud from above. We both look up just in time to see Janos at the top of the staircase. The left side of his face is bright red, but he never says a word.

Viv jackrabbits to her left, up the hallway and toward another flight of stairs. I head for the elevator, which is a bit further, just around the corner.

“Elevator’s faster…” I tell her.

“Only if it’s-”

I hit the call button and hear a high-pitched ping. Viv quickly catches up. As the doors slide open, we hear Janos lumbering down the stairs. Shoving Viv in the elevator, I follow her inside, frantically trying to pull the door shut.

Viv jabs wildly at the Door Close button. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…”