There was a muted shudder. A soft sound that might have been a roar, separated by concrete and glass and steel.
“And we’ve got to do it fast,” said Dorcas.
34
Everyone looked around. Even Hope, clinging once again to Ken’s neck, seemed to be peering around the darkened area in which they had found themselves. Taking stock as quickly as possible, knowing it was only a matter of minutes – perhaps less – before the things were upon them again.
It looked like they were in what had once been a hallway. Hard to tell, because the explosion the jet had brought with it had wrought near-absolute destruction. But there were detached doors and what looked like wall panels in the jagged space.
There was a click, and a light bloomed in the darkness. Buck was holding a small LED penlight, the kind that attached to a key ring. He swung it in a circle, eyeing the dispersed group.
“Where do you want me?” he said.
“Here,” said Aaron. The cowboy gestured for Buck to join him at the opposite end of the destroyed passageway.
Buck seemed to stiffen. Whether he viewed what Aaron had done as a mercy or not, Ken couldn’t see him wanting to be with the other man right now. But he moved to the cowboy without complaining. Aaron pointed, and Buck aimed the flashlight where Aaron indicated.
“Come on,” said Ken. He grabbed Maggie and they moved with Hope and Liz toward whatever Aaron was inspecting.
Christopher got there a moment before they did. “What is it?” said the young man.
Aaron was pulling back some trash, a few felled panels and bits of concrete. Grunting as he did it one-handed. Revealing a metal sheet beneath.
“Can’t get through that,” said Dorcas. Watching from eyes veiled by pain and exhaustion.
“Bet we can,” said Aaron. He pushed down another piece of trash. Revealing another metal piece. And now Ken realized it wasn’t just a random sheet of steel tossed out of place by the explosion. It was a door. Two doors.
“An elevator,” said Buck. He looked at the destruction around them. “I don’t think it’s going to be running.”
“Me either,” said Aaron. He put his good hand into the crack between the doors. “Help me with this.”
Christopher moved up, and the two of them levered the doors apart.
As the doors opened, the growling that had only been a suspicion strengthened into a reality. The things were here. Close, and getting closer.
As always, the sound carried with it an undercurrent of hopelessness, a call to just give up, to lay down and let fate run its course. Like the fight had already been lost, and Ken and his friends were just struggling against the inevitable.
Ken held Hope close to him. Listened to her heartbeat. Smelled the acrid scent of her little girl’s sweat, and tried to convince himself that this was what was real. That this was what was worth believing in, and fighting for. Family. Community.
Life.
“What’s the plan?” said Christopher, peering into the darkness beyond the elevator doors.
Aaron smiled oddly. And then, in an imitation of an old-fashioned elevator operator, he said, “Going down.”
35
Ken did what everyone else did when Aaron said that: he let his mouth hang open for half a second, then he pushed forward to see what was beyond the elevator doors.
He wasn’t sure whether he was more surprised at the fact that Aaron was saying they were going to go down, or the idea that the cowboy had done it in a joking fashion. Aaron had never made a joke before. Maybe the ongoing apocalypse was convincing the older man to let his hair down. Maybe he was just determined to go down smiling. Maybe Christopher was a bad influence on him.
But no matter his reasons, the idea of “going down” had to be a joke.
Because there was nothing beyond the doors. At least, nothing that looked like it could be used to go down. Just empty space and some mangled machinery.
“Are you nuts?” said Dorcas.
Buck nodded, looking a bit irritated for a second, like Dorcas had stolen his line in the play.
Aaron shook his head. The joking now gone from his expression. “Safest way down. We already know they go up stairs faster than we do, and now they’re climbing up the walls, for goodness’ sake.” He gestured at the darkness beyond the elevator doors. “Nothing to climb in there.”
“Uh….” Christopher raised a finger as though he was in a classroom, waiting to be called on by the teacher. “Yeah, so how do we get down then?”
Aaron took Buck’s light. He pointed it at the machinery. It looked like a large spool, hung up on the side of the elevator shaft, partially embedded in the concrete wall. Several thick metal cords trailed off it, disappearing into the darkness like the limp limbs of a giant daddy longlegs that had been smashed by an even larger boot.
“That there,” said Aaron, pointing at the spool, “is called the greave. Those lines sticking out of it are the elevator cables.”
“And?” said Christopher.