FLOOR 21

by Jason Luthor

  A lot of things could have happened at that moment, but any more panic would have just agitated the Creep even further. I looked ahead and behind me, motioning for everyone to keep calm. I could see the fear in their eyes, but any sudden actions would have meant our doom. Once everyone was settled, I gave the command to keep moving ahead. It might sound cold, but at that second, we had to forget about the loss and keep going. There just wasn’t any chance to mourn or, at least, not at that moment. At the time I hoped that would be the only death we saw that day.

  It wouldn’t be. Lopez was the next to go, but we wouldn’t realize it until morning. She’d been complaining of particularly strong sightings of Demons. At one point she turned to me and said she could see one standing behind me as we talked. That’s not a normal experience. When the Demons do linger, they normally stand at a distance. They might approach you, but they’ll vanish long before they get to you.

  In six years I’ve never been told that one was standing over my shoulder.

  I guess that Nwosu’s death must have affected her even more than the rest of us. With all the signs of fear and paranoia she was expressing, it’s not entirely surprising that she went the way she went. We were able to secure a room by using light heating to clear some sleeping space. It was a long and tense process, but we had to clear at least just enough of the Creep to settle on some beds. Before bedding down I tried to get everyone’s spirits up and reminded them that, at least if Mike’s estimates were right, we were closing in on the power plants. From there we’d have to be able to get some answers and devise a way out. All the layouts we’re familiar with indicated that an additional stairwell had to be against the far northern walls of this wing.

  Sadly it wasn’t enough. Lopez wandered off overnight. When I woke up, it didn’t completely register with me at first. Then I realized we were a man down. Once I took count of our numbers, which are closing in on half of those we left with, I realized we’d suffered another loss.

  We did some quick scouting to see if we could find her and retraced some of our steps, exploring some previous rooms we’d been to. Unfortunately there was no sign of her. I’m leaving a brief recording behind here to let her know our general direction, but if we don’t press on, we’ll die here.

  Commander Vick’s Report Number Seventeen

  I haven’t had time to record these. Honestly, I’m beginning to wonder if there’s even a point. If nobody gets this, will anyone care that I recorded it? Will anyone remember me? If nobody remembers me, will I really have ever existed?

  Enough of that. We’re no longer on Floor 30.

  It happened three days ago. Day seventeen of the Scavenging. I can’t imagine what people are thinking about back home. I don’t really have time to think about it, anyway.

  We finally found the power plants.

  It’s . . . nothing like what I expected.

  I’m trying to figure out what this tower was created for in the first place, what it was supposed to power. Because the engine we discovered sank down floor after floor into the darkness.

  We stumbled on it almost as if it were just any other day, the way you’d stumble into someone’s room accidentally or step into a meeting you weren’t supposed to attend. We just passed through a pair of partly opened doors and . . . there it was.

  It’s gigantic. From what I can tell, it stretches a few more stories upward, but it descends into pitch blackness for floor upon floor. Walkways surround the entire chamber, which is circular, unlike every other room in the tower. All the power cables we’ve been trailing end here, and they all feed into the circular power core. From where we’re standing, I can spot what looks like control rooms that must have monitored the power output of the generator. Mike sees them, too. Funny, in spite of everything, he hasn’t lost his spirit. He might even be holding up a little better than me, and that just doesn’t normally happen. If I’m feeling tense, I’m sure he is, too, but he’s either psychologically capable of ignoring his emotions, or he’s just really good at lying. Either way, it’s never good to suppress what you’re feeling so much that it starts to build to a dangerous level.

  Anyway, at this point I’m not putting anyone else at risk, so I take point, leading them around the walkways and toward the control room that juts out from the wall. As we get near, it lights up. Although there doesn’t seem to be much activity from the generator, it’s apparent that it’s still putting out some power. Power’s not the only thing coming out of the core, though. Once we’re able to get a thorough look of it from inside the control room, it’s apparent the thing, as massive as it is, is covered in some equally sized Creep matter.

  It’s weird, seeing them this size, like gigantic pieces of flesh hanging off of a giant’s arm. Some are bulbous, and others are slick and slide down the sides of the engine. Their tendrils rope and loop over the power cables and stretch out toward the walls, either covering them or vanishing into deeper parts of the Tower.

  Mike takes a look at me. “Now do you think the infestation started here?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure,” I respond, looking from spot to spot inside the chamber. “I’m not saying I do or don’t. Still, this is as good as any a place for an infestation to start. Lots of surface area, and if the Creep really does feed off of power sources, then this is a big one.”

  “Yeah, something this big has got to be a juicy target for it.”

  “I’m not sure where to proceed from here. I mean . . .” I look away in disbelief and just shake my head. “What would happen if we could just shut the entire thing down? If we just shut down the central power core?”

  “Wouldn’t we be shutting down the entire tower?” Mike glances up. “You know . . . even back home?”

  “I don’t know. Do the top floors get their power from the core?”

  “Hell if I know, to be honest.”

  The best I can do is shrug. Still, as I look up into the darkness, an idea comes to me. “Now that you mention it, I’ve heard the upper floors get their power elsewhere, so they can’t be dependent on this place. Really, how could they? What would the solar panels be used for then? That’s how we get our power every day. When we go through long stretches with a lot of darkness, Authority always puts those energy-use restrictions on the Tower. That’s got to mean our power’s tied to the panels, not this thing.”

  “Right. So, turning this thing into scrap couldn’t possibly hurt the people living up top.”

  “You might be right.” I frown as I nearly push my face to the glass and stare out of the window. “So, let’s think of a way to blow it to hell.”

  “Well, we still have explosives.”

  He’s right, of course. The only problem is it’d require us crossing over to the power core using nothing more than the cables stretched out over the abyss. It should be noted that these cables are indeed quite thick and sturdy, easily as large around as a man’s leg, but that still doesn’t provide lots of room for navigating precariously over an open pit that drops thousands of feet into darkness. There’s also no visible access to the core, no walkways or anything like that. “At one time they might have been able to extend a bridge out to the core or something. They had to have done repairs once in a while.”

  “Maybe, but how do we turn those on?”

  The rest of the team is visibly antsy, and I don’t have any easy answers. “I mean, we don’t need much, right? All we need is to use a sufficient amount to blow a hole in one side of it. This is sensitive technology, so there’s no way if we take a chunk out of its side that it’s going to still function. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

  “Makes sense,” Mike says, taking a step out of the control room to observe the core. “If you really want to be risky, you could chunk a grenade at one of those Creep growths. You know how stuff sticks to it.”

  “It sticks to it because Creep that size grabs it.”

  “Right, so let’s use it to our advantage this time.”

  He might be right. I look around and in
to the faces of what’s left of my team. Nobody seems happy, and why would they be? We’re down to half our numbers, everyone’s tired, and even as highly trained as they are, going past two weeks in the Deep Creep will take a toll on anyone’s sanity. Still, I’m not going to do this without consulting the group. “Listen,” I tell them, looking them each in their faces. “If this happens, I’m not sure what the result’s going to be. I’m not sure if we’re going to have an incident or if this will actually kill the Creep. I keep thinking about this, and I’m sure this is the best chance we have of getting rid of that stuff. We know it reacts to strong emotions, but we also know that it reacts to power sources. I mean, we’re all aware of that, right? It goes straight for Pocket Space generators. We’ve all had the Creep try to snatch our own generators off our hips. Hell, we’ve seen it more concentrated here in Polar North than almost anywhere else in the tower.” They all nod at this, but nobody’s smiling. Their faces are ashy, like a wooden log after it’s been burned up. “Guys, I don’t know if we survive this, but it is potentially our single best chance of saving this tower. That’s what I’m thinking. Still, I’m not going to do this if you don’t have my back. We can go looking for that stairwell access. I’m just thinking about all the losses we’ve had up until now.”

  They know what I mean. If we try to head back up, will we make it? If we don’t, we never get the chance to tell anyone about how to break back into Polar North and what’s here. The Creep will just keep building, and nothing will change. One of the women, Baginski, steps up. “Sir, if we’re damned either way, I at least want to go out making sure my family doesn’t have to live this way anymore.”

  There’s a round of agreement to that, and really, I couldn’t have said it better. “Yeah, that’s how I feel,” I say, reaching for my grenade belt. As I unclip one and hold it up, I ask them once more, “So, everyone’s with me on this?” Again they all nod, bouncing from foot to foot as if psyching themselves up. “Okay then. No regrets. Just listen up. If this situation goes to hell, we need a plan. If we get separated, stick to your training. We’ve all done solo stints in Deep Creep for situations like this. If an incident breaks out and you find yourself alone, remember, aim up. You’re all aware there has to be a stairwell access somewhere just north of here. Shoot for it. If we get separated, our primary rendezvous point is that stairwell. If you find yourself unable to make your way there, again, just aim up. If you find an elevator shaft, use it. Go as high up as you can, and for the love of God, get the hell out of Polar North.”

  Cowling, a big ox of a man, steps forward. “Sir, all circumstances considered, if we find ourselves in a situation where we are separated from the group or higher ground for an extended period of time, do we have permission to eat the food we’ve scavenged?”

  I can’t help but laugh. Everyone else does, too, or at least smiles. If nothing else, he’s helped relieve some of the stress that’s been building in the back of my neck. “Yes, Cowling. Permission to eat food is granted. I’m sure that Authority will be lenient once they’ve found out we’ve eliminated the Creep threat.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  I wave him off and turn before they can see my smile fade. My gut’s just churning because I’ve never experienced a positive moment when we’ve tried to detonate directly on Creep. Sometimes it’ll clear the way forward, but if you’re not fast, you’ll end up in a tunnel full of it as it gets angry and grows so fast that it becomes impossible to clear your way through. With that in mind, I line up my arm with the closest Creep growth. We’re fortunate, in that the distance between us and the power core is relatively small. With a last nod and smile to everyone, I pull the pin on the explosive, arc my arm backward, and send the explosive turning in spirals through the air. For a moment it looks like it’s veering off to the right too far to do any damage to the core. Then it drifts, curving back toward the center of the room and striking hard against the surface of the Creep. It bounces like it wants to escape into the darkness, and for a second it seems as if it’s going to ricochet back toward the walkways. Then the fleshy tendrils of the Creep whip out in response to being struck, latching onto it and hauling it in. The timing is perfect, and the grenade comes soaring back toward the core, detonating within inches of its side. We all watch through our visors as pieces of steel melded with Creep burst outward into the air, splattering and banging against our body armor.

  I think we’ve made a mistake.

  Electrical arcs are coursing up through the body of the core, traveling up and down like dancing spider legs. They mix and engage with one another before continuing on, surging together for a few seconds before they rip a new explosion from the core.

  “Chain reaction!” I scream, waving everybody off. We begin to sprint down the walkway, heading back toward the exit, when the power core lets out a deep groan. The walkway beneath me buckles, and I stumble forward, my fingers wrapping like snakes around the railing. Underneath my feet the ground falls away, and I swing forward, barely hanging on as the walkway slams to a stop. A heavy body strikes me as it flies past my shoulder, nearly dragging me down into the darkness.

  I don’t have time to see who it is as they plunge into the black beneath me.

  The room is starting to meld with the light of orange flames and blue electrical arcs, and I desperately try to haul myself upward, my arms straining to lift my body so I can toss my hand out and grab the next railing. I can hear the voices of some of my team, and I look up. Mike’s there, holding his hand out to me. Gunfire begins to pepper the walls as the rest of the group starts unloading, though I can’t see at what. Sucking in a deep breath, I swing my arm at Mike, my hand locking around his. His face tightens up as he strains and braces as he tries to pull me upward. As I stare into the air above him, my mouth goes slack. Through blurry vision I see the bulbous form of pink muscle and flesh crawling down the walls, an intense screeching following it as it descends from the flames that douse the surfaces above. Fleshy tendrils lash out, whipping at the team. One of them turns to fire but is slapped from the walkways, plunging off into the hellfire brewing deep beneath us. The entire chamber is now filling with orange and yellow plumes roaring upward from deep inside the Tower, while the Creep seems to rage and scream, lashing up the walls and surging to the rooftop.

  With a pained groan, I give all my strength to force myself upward and onto solid ground, waving everyone forward as I do. We struggle the last few feet to the doorway, disappearing into a hallway that is suddenly emptying of Creep. I can assume why. The heat of the explosions is starting to build with enough pressure that soon it’s going to blow out the entire northern wing. With whatever energy we have left, we run madly into the maze of hallways that is Polar North, paying no attention to whatever danger there might be or even to where we’re going. All I know is we have to get away from the core. The roaring of the fire as it builds is growing so loud I can’t even hear our footsteps.

  It peaks with a scream so tremendous that I feel as if my head’s going to split. I see the tongues of flames licking the walls around me and feel the heat scorching my back as I’m elevated and thrown forward, my limbs flailing in circles as I’m tossed like a toy.

  Then? Darkness.

  I can’t say what happened. I don’t know. Nobody else does, either. I mean, technically, yes, I know what happened. The core detonated, and the floor beneath us gave way. What I’m saying is that I don’t know how we survived.

  At least, the few of us that are left.

  An account of our personnel follows.

  James Cowling, Floor 7.

  Mike Chapman, Floor 8.

  Timothy Nguyen, Floor 10.

  Janet Udoka, Floor 11.

  Janet Baginski, Floor 13.

  Vick McGill, Floor 16, Commanding.

  Whether due to the area of the Tower we’ve fallen to or due to the combination of explosion and flames, the Creep concentration here is minimal. Over the last few days, we’ve been able to make some progress upward
using the elevator shafts and Maintenance access points as I do my best to lead my team out of Polar North and upward. I believe we might have fallen as far down as Floor 40. At this point the best we can do is try and find our way back home.

  I hope, at least, for two things. First, that our efforts to stem the Creep succeeded.

  Second, that someone, somewhere, hears this report one day.

  Commander Vick’s Report Number Eighteen

  I keep recording these partly because it’s my duty and partly because . . . well, it adds some measure of meaning to what’s going on here. It’s as if just the fact that there’s a record of everything we’ve done here in the Deep Creep somehow, I don’t know, as if somehow that would make it okay if we never made it back. At least there would be something of us that we’d leave behind, a record that we existed. And maybe it would let others know about things to avoid. Don’t blow up the Creep, for instance.

  That’s a joke, but at this point, even I’m finding it hard to laugh.

  The part of the Tower we’re currently in is a mess of overturned cabinets, ransacked rooms, and stacks of papers that’ve been scattered all over the floor. Some power’s still flowing from the power core. How? I don’t know. All I know is that if there weren’t power, I doubt there’d still be lights on in the halls and rooms we’re making our way through.

  God help us if things go pitch-black down here.