FLOOR 21: Descent (The Tower Legacy) Page 13
Abbott’s hand flashes upward and everyone slows when he draws his sword. He’s up at the front with Sunny, and all you hear is the click of safeties flipping on our rifles, mine included, as we pass another juncture. We’re barely past the corner when my nose shrivels up at the stench ahead. The air’s choked with rust colored haze worse than anything we’ve seen so far, and the walls are crumbling into pieces, some from Creep tendrils jamming out of the walls and others from black rot. If it were just visual, I’d be cool, but the worst thing about that place is the smell. Every breath I take is thick and reeks of something between sweat and blood, like there’s iron in the air.
The commander closes his fist as we reach another juncture, and we all come to a stop. My eyes dash from him to Michael, who throws us all against the wall with a flick of his hand. I’d plant myself against the surface if not for the Creep eating at the paint. Anyway, our rifles are raised, but I’m just stuck watching as Captain Sunny looks back to find Utada. God, fate sucks. Her destiny was always to be our scout. Not that she hasn’t procured my total respect, of course, since she jumps ahead of everyone else and follows with the captain. It’s like she doesn’t even realize where we are. Anyway, her and Sunny vanish, leaving us just standing around while Abbott watches from the corner of the juncture. His eyes keep flicking around the edge, and it just kills me that I can’t see what’s happening down the hall. I mean, I can’t even hear anything. For such a big guy, Sunny’s got really soft feet. So, we stand there for, like, ten minutes, and my hands are just burning to lift my gun and start firing. It’d be bad if I did, though. The commander’s been pretty clear that anyone who panics will get put down with a bullet.
That’s when I notice how weird it is to hear Tommy’s breath in my ear. We’re shoulder to shoulder and I can hear the air swirling through his nostrils, and for a second I can visualize the sight of his nose hair swiping the air. Heavy breather. Damn. I feel sorry for the girl that has to wake up to that in the middle of the night. Fortunately, I’ve only got time to think about it for a few seconds before there’s motion in the corner of my eye. All around you hear the sounds of our rifles as they click against our vests, but the team lowers their guard when we see Sunny and Utada. Sunny seems happy, or at least not freaked out, as he motions to the juncture. “There’s a utility closet down the way where people used to store chemicals and cleaning agents. Room’s been blown open though.”
Abbott claps his hands once. “Excellent. So, this is where the last Scavenger team accessed Polar North from?”
“Well, obviously, I can’t say for sure right now, but it’s looking good. There’s a few things you might want to see, though.”
“What’s that now?”
Sunny tries to talk, stops, looks confused, then finally keeps going. “It’s probably best if you take a look for yourself. Don’t worry, the Creep’s not active down this hall. “
“Good,” he says, motioning to the rest of us. We all fall into a line as Abbott takes us down the hall, but even if Sunny said things were cool down here, I keep my finger near the trigger of my gun. Soon we’re entering what looks like a storage room that’s just been completely trashed. There’re broken shelves thrown on the ground and piles of concrete everywhere, almost like the place was blown up. And what do you know? Turns out that’s exactly what happened. On the opposite side of the doorway, there’s a big gap in the wall where the boom came from, and you can see black scorch marks burned across the concrete.
The commander looks around as he tries to spot anything of interest. “I’m going to assume they used plastic explosives to break into the wall. I wonder how they knew this was an entry to Polar North?”
Sunny shrugs. “No idea. I don’t think that’s too important, though. Now this,” he says, motioning to a design painted onto the wall. “This is probably important.”
We all gather in a circle as Abbott follows the design with his finger. It’s a little hard to describe, but it’s a combo of a couple of different things. First, there’s a circle, and inside that circle are 4 lines that cross each other in the middle, like if you divided the circle into eight pieces. There’s a final part of the symbol, though. Running across the length of the circle is an infinity symbol that meets the lines in the center. From what I can tell, it’s been slapped onto the wall with red paint. I mean, you can see trails of crimson bleeding down to the floor.
Abbott stays quiet for a minute before he finally turns around to us. “Cultists,” he announces. “Creep worshippers that live in the Deep. They rarely come this high up, so that must mean we’re onto something.”
I’m already anticipating that’ll probably get people curious, but only Dodger seems interested in asking questions. She raises her hand like she’s in a class, not that she waits for permission to talk or anything. “Uh, sir? I’m totally not trying to be nosy or anything, but aren’t the Cultists supposed to be further down the Tower?”
The commander looks toward Sunny. “Told them all about the Cultists, I see.”
Captain Sunny shrugs, even as he keeps wearing that big smile of his. The weird part is, now it doesn’t look happy, just . . . smug. “You did say they should probably know.”
“And that meant you felt you had to tell them without letting me know?” Abbott’s black gloved hand digs into his forehead as he stares at the floor. It’s the second time I’ve noticed this weird emo passive aggressiveness between the two of them, and it’s starting to freak me out a little. “Yes, it is true that the Cultists typically stay further down the Tower, but they take an aggressive stance toward the Scavenging, so it’s hard to predict what they’ll do. Many of them are former Security with a grudge against Tower Authority. In fact, they actively try to prevent us from accessing the Pocket Space Generators because, they believe, it is mankind’s destiny to unite with the Creep. The ravings of lunatics and madmen, obviously, but they must be dealt with on occasion. I can only assume that they came this high up because they felt the recent intrusion into Polar North was worth their attention.”
It’s not really my style to interrupt Abbott, at least if I can avoid it, but this time’s just one of those moments where I can’t keep my trap shut. “Commander? Think you could tell us what the symbol means?”
Abbott looks over to me as his finger points back to the wheel. He actually doesn’t look angry at the question, which is kind of a surprise. “This? We’re not entirely sure. The infinity symbol inclines me to believe that they think the Creep is some key to eternal life. The eight armed cross in the middle, though? I couldn’t tell you. Rest assured, Tower Authority has spent considerable resources trying to determine exactly what it is they want. To date, we’ve been unable to make much headway into understanding them, though we know they’re violent. Take note of that, people,” he says, waving his arm over all of us. “Shoot first and ask questions later. Cultists won’t hesitate to shoot at you, so don’t hesitate to do the same.”
The commander takes another look back into the tunnel running behind the giant hole in the wall. “We’ll bed down in an adjacent room tonight. The captain and I will secure some sleeping space and clear it of any excess Creep. Everyone else? You know your jobs. You’re Scavengers. Go scavenge. However, I want everyone to meet back at this location in no more than two hours. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” we all shout as we empty back into the hallway. We’ve trained enough that we know the way this works by now. Everyone pairs up, hits a different stretch of the wing, and goes looking for loot. Shreya and Jamila have been pretty close since we started training, probably because they’re both from the lower floors. Joanne and Utada, on the other hand? I really don’t get those two. Maybe they both just like walking around in silence, which is something that would make me go nuts. Dodger’s been sticking with me and Tommy, so I kinda get why he’s crushing on her. Is it weird that it’s starting to make me feel possessive about him? God, what’s happened to me this last month? Suddenly I’m feeling threatened over Tom
my Jones?
Whatever. At the time, I shrug it off as the three of us head into the halls. I’m not sure what the vets are doing while we go risk our necks. They all just stand around talking for a minute while the rookies scatter. I guess they get to do that though, I mean, since we’re the grunts and all. Anyway, we clear out a few rooms, but they all look like they’ve been searched at least a hundred times already. Once you’ve seen one room, you’ve basically seen them all. All of them have chairs tossed around, drawers searched, beds that've been obliterated. Oh, and let’s not forget the Creep pouring down the walls. Once in a while, you’ll find a Pocket Space Generator, which is cool until you pop open its window and find nothing. Normally, it’s a huge waste of time.
That’s how we end up in a room really way down the hall, like, so far down we’re coming up on the next juncture. Dodger’s being pretty chatty with me, and I’m starting to get this weird vibe where I feel like she’s trying to get my ‘approval’ to talk with Tommy. It’s disturbing. He’s over in the next room while me and her wander around the bedroom, and she’s looking under the bed as she talks. “So, how long have you two known each other?”
“Huh? Me and Tommy?”
“Of course, you and Tommy. Who else would I be talking about?”
I keep wondering why it take her just five words to get under my skin. “I don’t know. Like, years, I guess? I mean, we played baseball together when we were nine. So, that’s, what? It has to have been at least eight years.”
Her head pops back up over the edge of the bed. “Was he always so cool?”
“Cool?” I turn to her, and I’m already fighting back the laughs. “Tommy? That’s like, the least applicable term you could ever use to describe him. Tommy’s the toolbag, and he’ll always be the toolbag.”
“Why?”
“Why?” The question is apparently so deep that it boggles my mind. “What do you mean, ‘why?’”
“Well, he did something, right? He had to have done something that makes him a toolbag. It’s not like you’re born one.”
“Yeah, obviously. I mean, he . . .” I start frowning because I’m thoroughly baffled that I can’t immediately come up with a response. “Uh, well. I guess he . . .” Now, just to be clear, there’s a moment here where my brain just freezes and suddenly my mind’s taking inventory. What exactly makes Tommy what he is? What makes him a toolbag? Let’s see. The one thing he definitely is, is ultra-cocky, but . . . that’s about it, and it’s not exactly as if I’m super humble myself. My fist taps at my forehead as I think. Didn’t Tommy try and apologize to me for being a massive toolshed when we were kids? And didn’t he try to be friendly with me from the first day we got into training for the Scavengers?
Ugh. Wasn’t he the one that helped me keep cool before going into The Red Room? And hasn’t he been trying to keep me from freaking out since we got into the Deep? Is this why I’ve been getting possessive about him? Because I might be, really actually, starting to think of him like a friend?
“Oh, my God,” I say as I look off at nothing. “I’m the toolbag.”
Dodger’s lips fold up as her brow scrunches together. “What’re you saying?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing,” I reply as I look back at her. “Nothing. I’m just . . .” My breath bursts out in a sigh I wish I could hold back. “ . . . Remembering something my therapist asked me a while back.”
“Sooo. You’re . . . remembering that you’re a toolbag?”
There’s a crushing sensation in my chest for half a second. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m apparently having a life moment right now,” I reply as I turn away. “Nothing’s wrong with Tommy, Dodger. He’s . . .” Ugh. This is going to kill me. “He’s a super cool guy.”
“That’s cool. Hey, I found the Pocket Space Generator.”
“What’s that now?”
She practically slams her shoulder into the bed, and it groans as it shudders toward me. “It was underneath here,” she says, looking down. I walk around to join her, and yeah, okay, she found it. The household generators are all a lot different than our portable ones, although I’m not really sure why. They’re bigger and rectangular, like a game system or something. Maybe they can hold more? I don’t know, but they’re all the same ceramic white ours are. This one’s no different.
Dodger gives me a thumbs up. “Good job, partner. Looks like we found the loot,” she says with a wink. “I’ll let Tommy know.”
“Of course you will,” I mumble as she bounces off into the other room. I guess I’m lucky that she doesn’t hear it, since Dodger’s actually a pretty chill chick. Anyway, while she’s off, I pop the Pocket Space window. All it takes is my portable generator sending a signal to open a blue portal in the air. After a second of playing with the frequency, I’ve got the window big enough that it’s hanging from my head to my waist, and inside, the thing’s just loaded. This family was organized, too. Some people just toss stuff into Pocket Space. These guys actually bothered shoving a shelf inside, and everything’s sitting there in rows. The first thing I notice is all the bowels of food, because it’s not every day we get fresh fruit up on the top floors. A few centuries in Pocket Space hasn’t hurt the food at all. My fingers are about five second from snatching a banana when I brush against a super colorful book with a cover that’s been bombed with highlighters. Now, I’m a sucker for bright and flashy things, so it shouldn’t exactly be a surprise that I grab for it instead of the food.
No taunting, future-me.
Anyway, I haul the book over to the bed and take a seat. “Renee’s memories,” I read aloud as I look at the glittery words shining on the cover. Whatever girl made this was way more creative than I am. I don’t let the assault of cheerful obnoxiousness keep me from flipping the cover of the spiral book to get a look at its guts. The first page has a picture of three girls all hugging. From the look of them, they’re all, like, maybe ten years old. Underneath the picture are the words, in pink and blue letters, ‘best friends for life.’ Ugh. Could this girl get any more stereotypical?
I flip the page and stare at another set of pictures. One girl from the previous picture is in all of them, so I guess she’s Renee. I mean, she’s cute and all, don’t get me wrong. Her black hair comes straight down her back, and her dark eyes are plugged into a deeply tanned face. In one picture, she’s running toward the camera, and in another she’s hugging what I think’s a clown. I mean, the guy’s got his face painted white and he’s wearing an overly colorful jumpsuit, so, I don’t know what else he could be. Rainbow clouds of balloons choke the background with the words ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’ written across their faces. It’s all so . . . bright.
I flip another few pages, and I see her getting older. I’m literally time traveling here. One picture has her standing in the street with what I think’s her dad. He’s a lot older, and the two of them are looking up at a bunch of towers. Not sure who took this pic, but if it was her mom, then the lady was a pretty darn good photographer. It’s a pretty dramatic pic. On the next page, there’s a picture of the girl again, and she’s definitely getting older. Her baby fat’s kinda melting away, and she’s a lot taller. Plus, I mean, she’s dressing older. That really becomes obvious when I flip another few pages and find her in a black dress with this super cute flower corsage wrapped around her wrist. Big, glittery red letters are glued to the center of the page that say ‘PROM,’ which, if I remember right, is something that teenagers used to go to. At least, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them in some of those romantic comedy movies they keep stored up on the upper floors.
Ugh. This chick’s so relentlessly happy. She’s got this boy next to her in a tux, and they’re standing under this arch with some big, shiny tower in the background. I mean, the scene’s obviously fake, but it looks cool. I could see why girls would get into this thing, I mean, it looks like she went all out for it. Fun times, right? Plus, the guy’s hot. All of the pictures here are like this, though. Just her and her friends, all of them having fu
n. One picture’s got some band up on a stage, playing guitars, and everyone in front looks like they’re dancing.
It’s like, the longer I look at these, the more I’m in my feels. Suddenly, I’m choking, like something’s caught in my chest, and I realize I’m getting way too emotional about this, and I don’t know why. I mean, I don’t like the dresses since they look too uncomfortable. Under no condition would I ever want to wear something like that. And really, when you think about it, the entire party’s just one huge parade of cheesiness. But, you know what? At least she had the choice to go and to have a life that didn’t involve worrying about becoming food for the Creep. And also, what if maybe, one day, I decided I wanted to go do something stupid and completely frivolous and get dressed up? Shouldn’t you be able to do that once in a while without having to justify yourself to yourself?
“Jackie?”
The voice catches me off guard and I practically throw the book to the ground. I spin around with my bat flying into my hands, swinging it toward the door to defend myself. That’s when I see Tommy, doused in blue light and with his hands held up. One look at his face and I can tell he thinks I’m going nuts.
“Tommy, sorry,” I say as I relax and strap my bat to my belt. “You, uh, got me jumpy.”
“Hey, nah, cool. Cool,” he says as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “You’re not hallucinating or anything, are you?”
“What, me? No, of course not, just . . . you know, it kinda sucks thinking about what happened to all the people that lived here.”
He nods as he steps into the room, and I see him looking at the book on the ground. “Guess you found something there.”
“Yeah, well, just pictures. You know? Some chick doing dumb stuff.”