Room Escapee

Here’s a short story about Lee I wrote this week in celebration of the one year anniversary of the Phantom Thief. I hope you like it!

-P.D. Atkerson 

Simon didn’t get it. What did people find so fun about escape rooms? In his opinion, they were boring, and he was ninety-eight percent sure if he’d been in there alone, he could have been out by now. 

Letting out a long sigh, Simon dropped into the seat in the corner as he watched his uncle scratch his head and try to figure out the puzzle he was currently working on. Simon’s attention was drawn away from Frank when his dad came to stand next to him. 

“Not having fun?” Winfield asked, giving him lopsided smile. 

“It would be funnier if this room actually made sense,” Simon said. “I mean, why would the code for that lock be the random paper we found in the suitcase?”

Winfield snorted. “I know why I don’t like this game. But you’re ten! You’re supposed to like these kinds of things.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, because  I normally like things kids my age like?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well...” Winfield glanced behind himself. “Killian seems to be having fun. Why don’t you help him break that code he’s working on?” he said, offering Simon his hand. “Or you could help your uncle Frank or even Aunt Helen.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Simon took his father’s hand and let pull him to his feet. “Fine, I’ll help them, but don’t get upset with me if I make one of them cry.”

Winfield grinned, knowing perfectly well he wasn’t joking. “You can do what you want with Frank and Killian, but try not to upset you aunt,” Winfield said, glancing towards his pregnant sister-in-law. “Because, honestly, she might be a little scary if you do.”

Simon crossed his arms and smirked at his father. “Are you saying you’re afraid of a woman a foot shorter than you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Just go play,” Winfield said, shoving him towards the rest of their group. 

Laughing, Simon did just that, and soon, they found themselves crawling through a tunnel into the next room. Everyone but Aunt Helen of course, which Simon knew was a good thing since he was pretty sure she and her belly wouldn’t have fit, even if she’d wanted to. 

Once he reached the end of the tunnel, Simon grabbed onto the outer edge and pulled himself out. Glancing around, Simon quickly realized the room was filled with lasers shooting from one side of the room to the other. 

Okay, he thought, grinning. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. 

He stood up and edged his way forward as close as he could with touching the laser. His eyes swept forward, marking out an invisible path through the lasers to the other side of the room. 

Without pausing, Simon ducked, stepped forward, twisted around and stepped forward again. He stepped over another laser, and he soon found himself standing in front of the bookshelf on the other side of the room. 

“There,” he said, glancing back toward the rest of his family wiggling their way out of the hole (excluding his pregnant aunt who was going around). “Are you guys coming?”

Shaking his head, Winfield sighed. “You know what, Simon? I think we’re supposed to shut the lasers off before we go to that side of the room.” 

Simon blushed and ducked his head. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

Still grinning, Winfield turned around entered a code into the keypad behind him. The next second, the lasers vanished, and the rest of the group moved toward Simon. 

Pulling his gaze away from his father, Simon went to work searching the bookshelf. 

Ten minutes later, Simon was standing in front of the exit and entering the code to get them out of there. The second the light turned green, he shoved the door open and turned back grinning. 

“And with only forty-eight seconds to spare before that ‘bomb’ would have gone off,” Simon said, grinning. “And you said I couldn’t guess the code.” He shook his head at his uncle. “And it would have been on you if we were vaporized by the bomb because you didn’t tell me we only had an hour to get out.” 

Grinning, Winfield stepped out of the escape room and ruffled up Simon’s hair. “That was funnier than the actual thing,” he whispered to Simon, giving him a wink. “Alright,” Winfield said, raising his voice for the rest of the group to hear him. “Ice cream on me for the apocalypse-stopping heroes.”

Simon laughed when Killian dodged between Helen and Frank and made a beeline for the door. “I didn’t see you moving that fast once during the game,” he called after his friend as he shook his head. 

Letting out a sigh, Simon followed the rest of his family out to the car and glanced back at the escape room. The game had been fun, and he hoped one day to save lives for real, like his father (not that his father had ever actually admitted that). 

He already knew that as soon as he turned eighteen, that was exactly what he was going to do. But for now, he’d eat ice cream and live out his childhood. Because, he had eight long years before he could even dream of becoming an agent... right?