"Nick, did you bring a flashlight?"
"Uh, no." He took his iPhone out of his pocket and unlocked it. "Thankfully, my technologically-impaired friend, there's an app for that."
"You're not serious."
He grinned, his face illuminated by the bluish light of his screen. "Yup, I'm serious."
We climbed the stairs by Nick's 'flashlight,' walking as softly as possible. As we approached the roof, which was not guarded by another door, the phone-light became unnecessary. The chilly night air rustled down the stairwell, carrying with it the faint smell of spring.
The roof was, unsurprisingly, wide, flat and concrete. It did look like some sort of landing pad. The edges were surrounded by a low wall, over the top of which poked the tops of nearby trees. The dark, moonless sky was speckled with stars and painted with wispy clouds.
There didn't seem to be anything amiss here. We, or more specifically Nick, searched for any object that might have been out of place, but there was nothing.
"See, Nick, there's nothing weird up here."
"Shut up, Chrissy. There must be something."
I rolled my eyes. He just didn't want to admit he had been wrong after going to all this effort. I sat down against the low wall to watch him scouting about like a bloodhound searching for a scent. Then I heard something.
There were voices in the stairwell.