Stacy's Closet

The floor was clean, only holding a few pairs of shoes. Stacy had an inkling of an idea. She looked up, confirming her suspicions. She changed into a pair of sweat pants, a small but loose grey shirt and a pair of pure white Nikes. Then she lifted the panel in the wall up and out and clambered on through. It was easy. Once she had her hands gripped on the edges, she pushed off against the wall and swung up and in.

Stacy was now in the space between the apartments. This building had been built when square footage was not such a premium. As such, the various tubes and wires and pipes ran between the apartments. The floor was made up of dusty, pellet swathed wooden plants. The walls were made up of studs and scratchy insulation. Light came from dusty bulbs set in the celing. Stacy made her way forward, turning on lights as she came to them and turning them off as she passed. Why she was going this way, she wasn't sure. She had an inkling of what was going on.

After passing 2-Q, she came to the end of this paticular branch. The insulation was missing from this paticular spot. Stacy inhaled, ducked, and slipped between two support beams.

It was now perfect darkness. The floor was metal and the walls were out of reach, yet Stacy moved with an assuredness that was beginning to scare her.

Soon, she reached something.

What did our mysterious heroine reach, oh suspense-filled readers?

1. Lexington and 3rd.
2. The production floor of New York's hottest newspaper, 'The New York Herald'.
3. A storage room, filled with blankets and canned food.
4. The upper floor of the 12th Precinct.
5. A staircase. (Oh boy).

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