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FLOOR 21: Descent (The Tower Legacy)

Page 14

by Jason Luthor

“Well, I mean, it’s only dumb if you think it is.”

  I shake my head. “I guess. But, uh, anyway, new topic. We got this window open here.”

  “Dodger told me,” he says through a smile. “Good find, Jackie.”

  “She did all the hard work. She’s pretty sharp. Dodger.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah I mean, if you two, you know.”

  His face turns at me as he pops an eyebrow upward. “If we what?”

  “Well, you know how you crazy kids are. I mean, like, if you’re into her.”

  “You trying to set me up there, Jackie?”

  I laugh as I move away from the bed. “Just trying to be a bro, you know?”

  “I appreciate the heads up, but why don’t we wait until we’re not surrounded by the Creep to talk about getting me a date?”

  “Well, don’t say I didn’t try to help a brother out,” I say as I take a look inside the window. “So, you realize we have to go halfsies on this, right? We kind of found this together, and we need to start racking up some points. I don’t want everyone back home saying I’m, like, the worst Scavenger ever.”

  “Yeah, I hear you,” he says as he focuses on what’s on the other side of the portal. His hands reach through and push aside different trays and books as he goes through the stuff. “Looks like it’s all food. Nothing worth a ton of points though, like meat or technology.”

  “Hey, at this point, I need any points so that I can get on the board. Who knows what the rest of the team is racking up?”

  “Right. You know that splitting this up three ways is going to hurt our scores, right?”

  “Ugggggh,” I blurt out when I remember we’re going to have to share our points with Dodger. “Just hurry and start hauling it out. We only have, like, one more hour to get through some more rooms. I don’t want to be in last place.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” he agrees as he starts to yank stuff out. “Get Dodger in here so we can all pop some windows and store this stuff.”

  “On it, yo,” I say as I hit the door back into the other room. Dodger’s there, staring at some piece of hardware she found. “Hey. Tommy’s about to start yanking out the food so, might want to get in here.”

  “Thanks Jackie, you’re awesome,” she says with a smile as she walks back into the bedroom. I strain out a whispered “No, I’m really not,” as I start to trail her. Why does she have to be so dang cheerful?

  Recording Twenty

  Whatever I might have thought about Floor 30 . . . things inside Polar North are worse.

  A lot worse.

  Every step means risking a fall to the floor below. I mean, it’s pretty obvious from all the gaps in the ground and the collapsed walls that things have been bad in the north wing for a long time. There are places where the ground feels like it’s going to just break beneath your foot, so we end up taking so many detours that I’m lost. It gets so bad that the map on my tablet starts running circles trying to track all the different places we’ve been. If we’re not detouring around broken hallways, we’re avoiding areas where the Creep’s so dense there’s no room to walk. You couldn’t squeeze your arm through if you wanted to. Most of the time, I’m figuring out how to step over piles of rubble while trying to dodge the small tendrils that push out of the floor. It doesn’t help that I can only see when the light’s flicker around us. But, I mean, even that’s preferable to turning a corner and finding nothing but black emptiness with not even, like, the glow from a nearby room to guide us. There’s one turn we make where the only reason I’m able to see a few feet in front of me is because of the light from the hallway at my back.

  I’m already busy rolling my eyes when Abbott waves to us. “Give me some light,” he says as he holds his flashlight up and cuts into the blackness. We all help shine the walls, which are just pulsing with Creep. You can see the muscles surging in and out while thick veins pump underneath. Everything our lights touch is filtered through a red haze, and the gross feeling of humidity makes me feel like I’m being slowly boiled for dinner. Our feet squish thin layers of Creep underneath us and I’m just glad these boots were given to us by Tower Authority. I don’t even want to know how much it’s going to take to clean out my baseball uniform.

  So, Commander Abbott comes to a stop and flicks his flashlight on and off a few times. “Demidov Protocol,” he says as he looks back at Utada. “You’ve got point.” Then he flicks his light at someone else. “Lieutenant Pena, you’re with Utada.”

  “Right, sir,” she agrees as she hurries to the front of the group. The Demidov Protocol is basically a way of keeping us safe. Since the Creep reacts to negative emotions, we walk in pairs. It puts distance between us and keeps us from having too many strong feelings in one space, which should help keep the Creep sleeping. Maybe. Like always, I feel bad that Utada’s got to be our point man, but then again, she does seem kind of emotionless. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry as I watch her lead the way with Valerie at her back. If anything happens, I’m telling myself that at least the lieutenant can help keep them safe.

  Right about that second, something clicks in my head. We’re all pairing up for the walk and I realize I’m going to be strutting through that mess soon. For a second, I’m in a blind panic as I look over at Tommy, then glance at Dodger. He must see my eyes bulging because he grabs my shoulder. “Don’t freak out, Coleman.”

  “Who’re you . . . who’re you going in with?”

  “What? You, dummy. Who else do you think I’d pair up with?”

  “Uh, no one. Sorry.” I’m terrible at this. When did Tommy become my security blanket? And worse, when did the Creep start freaking me out so much? Was it the Red Room? “You’re not scared, are you?”

  “Honestly?” He smiles as he leans over to me. “I’m scared as hell.”

  “Then how do you look so cool?”

  “I’m a great liar. Your problem is you thought this would be easy. Me? I always knew it would suck.”

  I frown as we step up to Abbott. “Maybe you’re right, Tommy.”

  “I’m always right.”

  The commander literally growls at us. “No chit chat, rookies. If you don’t stay focused, this part of the Creep will consume you alive. Don’t think I haven’t lost good men and women who panicked from claustrophobia.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say with a salute. The commander just shakes his head as he turns to watch the pair in front of us. Soon, they’re a long distance off, and Abbot gives us the nod. Tommy’s got his light pointing the way, and I’ve got my rifle up in case anything happens, but even with his flashlight burning through the air, I can barely see our teammates up ahead. What I can see is the Creep. Up close. The stuff bulges out from the walls, and I can feel moisture dripping from above as saliva tongues my shoulder. I look away, and my mouth curls as goop slides down my arm in wet trails that douse my uniform.

  Gross.

  I think the worst part of it is realizing the Creep knows we’re here. I don’t know how, and really, I don’t want to know, but we’re walking through and I can feel the thin cords of muscle as they slap at my ankles and wrists. I keep telling myself that as long as I don’t panic, they won’t grab me, but you know, it’s hard to do that when I’m getting groped by these things. At least my training is actually doing something. My breath automatically slows, and I feel my heart calming down, which surprises me since the walls are just getting tighter. Soon, me and Tommy are shoulder to shoulder as we both try to stay away from the edges, but that’s almost impossible. The clusters are sitting on the floor in thick piles, and the skin sacs breathing outward all graze the sides of my clothing. I can actually feel the wetness they leave on my uniform when I force my shoulder forward, pushing it past a bulb of muscle. At this point, me and Tommy are back to back as we try to slide ahead, and I try not to inhale the hot breath that’s exhaling from the Creep and gushing down the side of my face. As if that’s not bad enough, I can feel Tommy’s heart thumping through his body, and it’s
kinda starting to freak me out. After a few minutes, it’s practically hammering into my back, and I start to feel his body twitching as we’re forced closer together. That’s starting to get me edgy too, because the longer I’m close to him, the more I can feel him jumping. Finally, his body starts locking up, and I feel like I have to say something.

  “We’re almost there,” I tell him, hoping I’m just imaging things and that he’s actually calm.

  “Yeah, I know.” He says this, but I’m not exactly feeling reassured. “I ever tell you I hate small spaces?”

  “Well, you’re telling me now,” I reply as I blow strands of hair out of my face. “But I really need you to hold it together for a few more minutes.”

  “I’m trying, Jackie, really trying, it’s just . . .” That beating at my back gets heavier, and my eyes fly open as I feel a tendril squeezing on my ankle. It tightens, and for a second, we come to a stop. That’s a death sentence somewhere like this.

  “I need you to get your stuff together, like, now, Tommy.”

  “It’s just hard,” he says as I hear his breathing going wild. Over the corner of my shoulder, I can see him shaking his head and struggling to suck in air. It doesn’t help that we’re getting choked to death by this humidity. “I haven’t been in a place this small in a long time. Dad used to throw me in the closet when I was a kid. Whenever I got in trouble, he’d toss me in and lock me up for hours. Those were on his bad nights, when he’d forget he had a hundred pounds on me. I never got over that.”

  As he’s saying this, I’m watching the space ahead of us starting to collapse as the walls start surging together. If we don’t move, if he doesn’t calm down, I don’t know that we’re going to get past this. First thing’s first, though. I tighten up and yank my ankle free, cringing as I feel the snap of the tendril. It breaks from the wall and gushes all over my leg, but somehow I keep from freaking. I’m staring into the black in front of me, but I’m able to lean back and grab Tommy’s side with my free hand. At least, for a second, he stops shaking. “I’m really sorry life sucked when you were a kid and that your dad was a complete toolshed, but right now, just try to breathe and keep it cool. You can tell me literally anything you want about him when we get out of here. I’ll help you come up with new curse words just to describe your dad. Right now though? Right now, I’m just thinking that I want to get home someday, enjoy some chocolate cake, and hey, maybe we can play some basketball again. Sound like a plan?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” I feel his body relax as he sucks in a huge breath. “I’m good, Jackie.”

  “Alright, just chillax, okay?”

  “I’m cold as ice,” he agrees as he follows my lead. I keep my fingers resting on his side as I move him along. Having my hand on any part of the male body for this long is an exploratory process for me, and I feel my cheeks burning as I tug at him. Anyway, we slide past the thickest stretch of the Creep, with that slimy muscle tissue just inches from my chin, and pull ourselves into the open. Flashlights greet us as we’re suddenly yanked ahead by our teammates, ripping us out of that mess of flesh and mucus. They’re all smiling and whispering congratulations, but I keep pulling Tommy along until we’re a few feet away. He’s breathing hard, and I can see his chest pumping up and down like he’s being electrocuted.

  “Dude, are you okay?”

  He nod as he puts his hands on his knees and exhales. It sounds like a bunch of air being let out of a balloon. “Thanks, Jackie. I don’t . . . I don’t even know. You really took over there.”

  “Yeah, well,” I say, embarrassed. “Whatever. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t die or anything. Not to mention I’d probably have gone down with you if something would’ve happened.”

  Tommy takes a second to catch his breath before standing up. “Seriously. That was amazing.”

  “Thanks?”

  “You know how to take care of people. That’s a good thing.” He pauses and looks away for a second before he turns back to me with a wink. “You’d make a good mom.”

  With that, Tommy ends my goodwill, and I pop him across the arm. “Shut up.”

  Recording Twenty-One

  I said it last time but I don’t really care if I’m on repeat. Not like anyone else has to worry about listening to this anyway. If I survive the next few years, I’m going to be the only person having to put up with listening to this angsty teenage version of me.

  So, like I was saying . . .

  Polar North is something entirely different.

  Something not like the rest of the Tower. It feels like just a few days ago that I was just searching apartments. Now . . . well, I don’t know where we are. We’ve almost gone in circles and flipped halls so much that I’m dizzy. I’m pretty sure that we’ve been getting farther north into this wing, but, like, our progress is super slow, and that makes it even more noticeable that things are changing around us. Now we’re not staring at apartments with rotted flower wallpaper. Instead the halls almost look the same as those on Floor 1. At least, if Floor 1 had ever been swallowed by the Creep. I can pretty much tell everything here was painted white once, it’s just that now it’s all a sick looking beige. If it doesn’t look like it’s been rotting, then it’s covered in Creep.

  Also? Things were pretty carefree last week, but now everybody’s edgy. I mean, even the commander’s acting different. I can tell he’s getting nervous, so that’s not exactly comforting, and I’m sure it’s because what we’re finding in these new halls is super weird. A lot of these rooms are labs, but that doesn’t make any sense. I get why we have them higher up the Tower. We’re supposed to have built them when we moved up there. So, why are there any down this far?

  After a few hours of wandering farther north than we’ve ever been, Abbott hauls us into this empty room. The inside’s still got power and cold light is drifting down from the ceiling. It throws a blue stain over everything, including the beds, which are this whole other issue I don’t want to deal with. They just look weird. They’re all bunk beds with thin mattresses, and the room is filled with them from back to front. It’s hard to imagine that there was any time when this was an apartment. Instead, it looks like it was used by, like, dozens of people. Were they working out of here?

  The commander waves a finger around in the air. “We need rest and downtime,” he says. “I’ll secure the room with Captain Allen. Everyone else, you know what to do.”

  We all nod. Even saying “Yes, sir” seems to have vanished, which I’m not sure is a positive. I mean, discipline, right? Got to have it.

  I hate the fact that I’m trying to convince myself.

  As we head for the door, I catch sight of Jamila. She just frowns at me as she grabs one of her braids and twists it. After all that effort, even those are going frizzy. She gives me this awkwardly unhappy look that makes laugh. It’s nice to have someone like her around to keep your humor up. It’s weird how talking about something normal, like your hairstyle, can keep you from going totally nutters in a place like this.

  What doesn’t help is that the power’s failing more and more. It feels like the further into Polar North we go, the less power there is anywhere. We’re practically walking with just the help of our flashlights. Between that, the humidity and the constant drip of saliva dousing our gear, I think we’re all having a hard time just keeping our nerves from snapping. See, that’s one thing they don’t tell you about the Deep.

  How moist it’s going to be.

  God, I hate that word.

  At least Tommy and Dodger’ve been cool. Apparently, at least from what I learned during our squeeze through that tight Creep hallway, I do better when I’m looking out for other people than when I’m looking out for myself. Something in me flipped the second that Tommy started panicking, which is completely weird but at the same time makes too much sense. I’ve always kinda been my bravest when I’m thinking about others. The time I went up to Floor 1 and almost got my brain wiped? Pretty sure dad was the only reason I risked it. I mean, I’d a
lways wanted to go, but saving him was the push I needed. Then, when I practically agreed to throw my life away fighting Creepy Sally? It was dad again, but also the whole Tower. I wanted to save everyone. So, maybe I’ve found out something about myself. Jackie, the perpetually isolated chick who lives to irritate everyone around her, really enjoys sticking her neck out for people and potentially dying.

  Apparently.

  How the hell, man?

  Anyway, me, Tommy and Dodger find our way down one hall and spot a pair of doors. As we walk toward them, they slide open, and I nearly yank my rifle upward when they do. Tommy’s there to brace me as I stumble back, and we all just stare at the darkness inside. Everyone’s waiting for someone else to take the first step, and finally, that really super irritating part of me, the one that apparently makes me put my life at risk for other people, kicks in. So, yeah, I’m the one who heads in first. I huff as I step through the doorway, and I’m about to whip out my flashlight when a loud snapping rings out in the room. Tommy’s at my side in a second, and I hear the safety on his rifle flip off, but we both have to look away as lights ignite across the roof. They practically surge into my vision and force me to blink away a few dots that dance across my eyes.

  It’s a minute before everything clears, and when it does, what I’m looking at . . . I don’t know. First, there’s the obvious: lab tables and microscopes. Pretty standard mad scientist stuff, right? So, none of that really bothers me. There are crates at the other end of the room with blankets draped over them though, and painted above them are big circles with that eight armed cross and infinity sign. But what really gets me? It’s the smell. My hands wrap around my mouth as I retch, my body convulsing for a second as I’m slammed by this scent I can’t put my finger on. The Creep doesn’t smell like this, okay? As bad as it can get, it’s always a smell of body odor and blood. That’s at its worst. This, though? God, it’s something else way more terrible. The whole room is thick with it, and I can’t take a breath without feeling like I’m getting punched in the gut. Finally, I’m able to talk, but I can barely get the words out.

 

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