The thunderous footsteps grow louder, and suddenly stop in front of the doorway. Instead of charging into the office, the soldiers throw in silver cylindrical grenades, which spew out thick clouds of colorless gas as soon as they hit the floor. Seymour, Elena, and Trace back into the corner of the office, retreating from the slowly spreading gas.
“What is that stuff?!”
“It’s a paralysis gas! Get into the elevator! It’ll shield us from the gas!”
The trio hold their breath as they dash through the thick, low-hanging cloud of gas, pile into the elevator, and Seymour forcefully wrenches the doors shut.
“Great plan, Trace. Now I won’t be able to check the progress of the scan.”
“Just be happy your heart’s still beatin’, kid. Worry about your scan thing later.”
“But we don’t have a place to go if we don’t know where Adrian and Sam are!”
“Yeah, and on top of that, we’re stuck in this elevator. Also, if the soldiers destroy the computer, then that’s it for the plan.”
“Alright look, just shut up and stop complainin’, okay? We’re not stuck as long as this elevator has power. Let’s just go down to the armory and grab some gas masks.”
“There’s no time for that… They’ll destroy the computer if they find out what we’re using it for…”
Seymour taps his fingers against the elevator door impatiently, and finally makes up his mind by declaring tersely –
“I’m going back out there.”
“Why?!”
“We’re not leaving ‘til the scan is done, and I can’t very well see it from here. You two stay in here. I’ll be back in a sec.”
“But-”
“Don’t try and argue with ‘im, blondie. Once his mind’s made up, it’s best to just let him have his way.”
Placing his hand gently on Elena’s shoulder, Seymour reassures her with a supportive smile, which starkly contrasts her look of abject terror.
“Don’t worry about me. I have an idea. But if I’m not back in ten minutes, go up to the roof with Data and Sakura, and leave without me, okay? Just keep the elevator down here for the time being, in case I need to take quick shelter, got it?”
“… Okay.. Just hurry back.”
“Right.”
Taking a deep breath, Seymour pulls the elevator doors slightly apart, and slips through the gap before any gas can seep through. Quickly, he swipes a fallen soldier’s full-faced helmet, and dons it hastily, shielding his nose and mouth from the gas, which flows out of the smashed-open windows. Breathing in short, filtered intakes, he dashes through the lethal miasma, and approaches the computer, whose brightly-lit screen serves as a beacon through the haze. The scan shows 97% done. Frustrated, he waits impatiently as the progress bar slowly crawls up to 100%, choking slightly from the thick gas. On the screen, a red-colored 2D map of the world pops up, showing three miniscule orange dots at his location, and reveals two other dots positioned somewhere near the western shore of the Atlantic Ocean, close to what used to be the country of Morocco.
|What the hell?! What are they doing out there? … The only way to get there would be to.. cross the Atlantic Union? But it was never finished.. Hm.. Well, that explains a lot..|
Unplugging his tracer from the USB port, and reattaching it to his belt loop, Seymour swiftly heads back for the elevator, when the battalion of gas-masked soldiers, who had been furtively watching him from outside the office, suddenly barge in through the closed doors; guns blazing, their bright red laser sights slicing through the dense, murky haze of gas. Taken by surprise, Seymour swiftly dives back behind Solari’s desk, shielding himself from the gunfire. He grabs an assault rifle from one of the fallen soldiers nearby, and unloads upon the mass of troops. However, their numbers are overwhelming, as countless soldiers endlessly pour into the office. Running low on ammo and patience, Seymour tosses his gun aside, makes a desperate dash for the elevator, musters all his strength, forces the doors open, and slips inside, while the sound of bullets hitting the doors permeates the elevator interior. He removes his helmet, his throat and chest burning from breathing in too much gas and his fingers are numbed slightly at the tips, but otherwise he is unharmed.
“Jeez, kid! That’s some party you were havin’ out there!”
“You’re okay..”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just go.”
“Well, wait.. What did your scan say?”
“I’ll tell you once we’re out of here.”
The soldiers in the office smash their shoulders and their gun butts against the elevator doors, trying in vain to break through. After about a minute of pounding and shouting, the soldiers eventually retreat from the elevator doors. In the tense, unnatural silence, Elena breathes a sigh of relief and presses the UP button, and the elevator car begins to ascend, when suddenly, it comes to an abrupt halt, the lights shut down, and the sound of grinding metal permeates the cramped cabin.
“… What the hell is that…?”
A sudden tremor shakes the elevator, as the sound of metal being torn becomes steadily louder, and more aggressive.
“… Ah, shit. I think I know what they’re doing.”
“W-what?”
“They’re remotely detaching the elevator from the cables.”
“… Shit, indeed.”
Just as Seymour predicted, the elevator car trembles more violently, and drops a few feet downward.
“If we get out, we’ll be killed by the soldiers!”
“Yeah, but if we stay in here, we die anyway! You know how many stories this building has? Like a hundred! And we’re near the top fucking floor!”
“What do we do, Seymour?!”
“I don’t know.. Give me a second..”
“Calm as always, I see, eh, kid? Would it kill you to show some panic?”
While Seymour muses in silence, Elena and Trace wait with bated breath, as the rivets connected to the cables holding the elevator aloft continue to remotely unfasten themselves, sending more violent tremors throughout the cabin below.
“Tick tock, kid..!”
“… Is your MFI working, Elena?”
“No, I told you something’s wrong with it..”
“Let me see it.”
“That’s your plan? Seriously?”
“Would you like to think of one?”
“Ehh.. Just be quick.”
Seymour nods, takes Elena’s hand in his, pulls out a 7.7 mm FMJ bullet from his rifle clip, sticks it under the rim of the MFI, and pops the casing off, revealing a tangled web of miniscule multicolored wires. He inspects the apparatus’s wiring carefully, while the elevator continues to drop ever so slightly, as the last rivet holding the elevator cable prepares to disengage.
“Ahh.. I see what’s wrong.”
“Good, great, fantastic.. Hurry it up, will ya?”
“What is it that’s wrong?”
“The radio waves from the weapon they used on you and the others must’ve been intense enough to fry a vital wire that connects the internal battery to the CMCI unit..”
“Screw the explanation, kid, we’re not in school!”
“Can you fix it?”
“… I think so. Hand me your gun.”
Elena hands Seymour her Viper magnetic pulse shotgun, and he snaps it half against his leg, as the elevator car starts to sway slightly in the shaft, having only one cable still attached to keep it aloft. Seymour swiftly searches through the wiring within the gun, and pulls out a long, thin, emerald-colored wire attached to the battery near the back of the gun. He bites it in half, removes the wire from the first MFI unit with ease, and seals it shut. He opens up the second one, and tries to remove the fried wire from within the MFI, when the elevator cable finally detaches from the roof, and the car plummets a few feet before the hydraulic brakes kick in, wedging the elevator against the wall. Seymour and the others freeze in terror as the deafening squealing sound of metal scraping against metal fills the car. Suddenly, the brakes are
disabled remotely as well, and the elevator begins to rapidly freefall through the shaft, swiftly approaching the ground. Inside, Trace backs against the wall, gripping the handrail in fright, while Elena staggers against Seymour, tearing her hand away from his grip.
“Come on! Give me your hand!”
“T-there’s no chance!”
“Trust me!”
Though her eyes fill with terrified tears, she compliantly presents her shaking hand to Seymour. He kneels down, concentrating intensely as he removes the wire, and carefully tries to insert the undamaged one, despite the violent shaking of the cabin as it plummets towards the rapidly approaching ground.
“Ah, we’re fucked!”
“Hold on… wait… There!”
With the wire successfully inserted into the battery, Seymour re-seals the casing, and grabs onto the handrail.
“Quickly! Rip a hole through the floor!”
Elena holds her hands towards the floor, and closing her eyes in panic, attempts to activate her MFI.
“Come on… Come on..!”
Miraculously, it activates, and she magnetically rips a hole through the elevator car’s floor. Looking through the breach, they see the massive hydraulic buffer below flying towards them, and just seconds before the lethal impact, Elena magnetically blasts the elevator car upwards, stopping their freefall, and propelling them slightly back up the shaft. Once again cheating death, and shaking in terrified relief, she deactivates her MFI, and slumps back against the wall next to Trace, as the elevator car falls back down, and crashes onto the buffer. Shaking his hair out of his sweaty face, Seymour looks to Elena with a relieved, satisfied smile.
“Shit… Good job, Elena. We live another second, thanks to you.”
“… I-I don’t ever… D-don’t make me… I don’t ever want to do something like that again..”
“Well, that’s definitely one way to give an old man a heart attack..”
Seymour gently brushes Elena’s tangled hair out of her face, and asks softly, not wanting to break her jangled nerves –
“Can you get us out of here?”
“Yeah… Just.. give me a second to calm down..”
“Sure.”
Elena covers her face with her hands, which Seymour notices are bleeding from tears in her flesh, and he quickly looks away guiltily, the stifled silence one can only know after being seconds away from death piercing his brain like a screeching cry. After a few moments of this torturous silence, Trace finally breaks it by clearing his throat dramatically, and says with a pale-faced, sarcastically cheery smirk –
“So now that we’re not in peril for the ninety millionth time, what did the scan say?”
“Oh yeah, right. We head for the Atlantic Union.”
“That hunk of shit? What’s out there?”
“Sam and Adrian.”
“What the hell are they doing out there?”
“No idea. But I suppose we’ll find out once we get there.”
“Yeah, if we can get out of here alive.”
“O-okay.. I’m ready.. Let’s go.”
Elena again leans through the breach in the floor, and propels them away from the ground, back up the elevator shaft. As the strength of the magnetic force propelling them weakens the farther they travel away from the ground, Elena struggles to maintain their verticality by the 50th floor.
“I-I don’t know if I can keep this thing going..!”
“C’mon, we’re about halfway up.. Don’t give up, Elena! I know you can make it!”
“Yeah, but if you don’t make it, you can always try again, assuming we survive the next fall..”
“No.. I won’t let us fall..!”
Despite her optimism, Elena continues to struggle, and instead of ascending the shaft, they begin to drop slightly as they near the rooftop exit. Trace throws Seymour a hesitant look, which he can’t help but return.
“Come on, Elena.. You can make it..”
“I… I c-can’t make it..”
Elena, her strength completely spent, slumps forward into the hole, and passes out from exhaustion as the elevator car begins to plummet anew.
Trace renews his crushing grip on the handrail, his face set and sweaty, and Seymour pulls Elena out of the hole, one hand on the handrail as the rushing winds chill the dark elevator interior.
“I-is this it, kid?!”
Seymour shakes his head defiantly, refusing to give up as Trace has done, and searches the inside of the elevator carefully for another exit. A few harried moments of searching later, Seymour spots a small emergency hatch on the ceiling, but it is out of his reach, tall as he may be.
“Trace, get over here now! I need your help!”
Trace quickly sidles around the hole in the floor, and with some difficulty, considering the altered gravity in the falling elevator car, Seymour manages to get onto Trace’s shoulders. Trace swiftly hoists Seymour up to the roof, and he pushes the tiny exit hatch open. Looking up, he spots the thick, rusted elevator cables flying past him over the edge of the roof. Left with no time to find any other way, Seymour calls down to Trace hurriedly –
“Trace, don’t let go of me, no matter what! Got it?”
“What’re you doin’?!”
Without answering, Seymour grits his teeth determinedly, knowing that if he doesn’t succeed, they will die. Breathing deeply, he reaches out and grabs hold of one of the thick elevator cables, then quickly grabs hold of the other one. The sharp, twisted metal of the wires flay the flesh on his hands, and he cries out in pain, but he keeps his grip upon the wires shockingly tight, mustering every possible scrap of strength left within him, and sure enough, the elevator car begins to slow its freefall, and within moments, becomes completely stationary. Breathing a painful, half-conscious sigh of relief, his whole body shaking from the strain, Seymour takes the two wires, pulls the ends together, slips them back through their roller-guides, and forces the rivets back into the holes, securing the wires back in place. Though the wires keep the car suspended, they quickly begin to slip back out of their guides; Seymour wearily calls down to Trace, telling him to get Elena up. Trace kicks Elena hard in the ribs, effectively waking her up.
“T-Trace? A-are we okay?”
“Oh yeah, thought we’d just live the rest of our lives like this. Can’t find a better vacation spot. But enough bullshit! Get the fuck up and help us, blondie!”
Elena nods quickly, leans back out the hole in the floor, and continues moving the elevator with her magnetic grip. Trace lowers a chalky-faced, nearly unconscious Seymour back into the elevator, and grimaces with disgust at the sight of Seymour’s hands, which are worn down to the bone up to his wrists.
“Damn.. Uh, I mean, I really gotta give credit where it’s due, kid. I’ve never seen anyone do what you just did.”
“L-let’s just… Let’s just get the fuck out of here, okay?”
“Hey, don’t worry ‘bout your hands, kid. I’m sure there’ll be Seraph Tears on the copter.”
“Y-yeah.. Hopefully…”
Elena glances at Seymour apprehensively, as though waiting for him to start shouting about her failure, but he seems too exhausted to say anything at the moment. After a few more agonizing minutes of shaky vertical travel, Elena finally brings the elevator car to the rooftop exit with small crash. Trace wrenches the doors open with a deeply relieved smile, and spots Data waving to them from the cockpit, the fear on his face evident even from a distance. Trace half-pulls Seymour from the elevator, then motions to Elena, but she is stuck keeping the elevator aloft.
“Here, give me your hand, blondie!”
She quickly deactivates the MFI on her right hand, and holds it out, as the elevator car tips onto its side, and smashes into the side wall of the shaft. Trace speedily takes hold of Elena’s hand, and pulls her from the elevator a moment before the wires slip free of their roller-guides, and the car falls back down through the darkness of the shaft.
Elena hurries over to Seymour and embraces him tig
htly, but he quickly pushes her away with his mangled, bloodied hands.
“I’m sorry, Seymour! This was my fault! You shouldn’t have had to do that.. Oh God, if I wasn’t so weak-”
“Save it, Elena. It’s fine. And you’re not weak, so don’t think that way.
Let’s just get to the copter before something else terrible happens, alright?
I’m having a really bad day here..”
“Y-yeah...”
Together, they all run into the copter, and slide the passenger door shut with immense relief. Data hurriedly raises the copter into the air, and, while they are hovering above the helipad, turns in his seat to face the others.
“So, where to, Seymour? Oh shit, what happened to your hands?!”
“I’ll tell you later…”
Seymour blearily exchanges a quick glance with Elena and Trace, but he suddenly notices something amiss, and says confusedly –
“Wait.. We can’t leave yet..”
He quickly counts the people inside: four. Elena, Trace, Data, and himself, but not –
“Where is Sakura?”
“What, she’s not back there? She was a few minutes ago..”
“Huh.. Where could Little Miss Genocide have gone?”
“Check your tracer! See where she is!”
Seymour pulls out his tracer gingerly, his hands burning painfully, flips the cover over, and checks the screen carefully. To his surprise, the scan reveals that Sakura is standing right below them. He slides the door open with his elbow, the wind blowing in his face, and spots Sakura down on the helipad, standing in the helicopter’s shadow.
“What are you doing down there?!”
She motions to Seymour that she wants him down on her level: alone. Seymour looks at the others in the copter, with their confused, anxious faces, as Data compliantly lowers the helicopter back onto the helipad. Seymour hops out, slides the door shut, and opens his mouth to greet Sakura, but she shakes her head, and signals to Data to fly up. With an apprehensive nod, Data does as he is told, and takes the helicopter back up into the air, tenaciously hovering high above Seymour and Sakura. Without warning, Sakura grabs hold of Seymour’s bloody wrist, flips him over her shoulder, and slams him violently into the ground. She then pulls out a pistol, pushes it against Seymour’s forehead, and puts her foot down on his chest, holding him to the ground.
Paradox: The Last Day - Seymour's Story Page 24