A loud clanking, grinding noise drew my attention to one wall, where a pair of elevator doors sat half open in their frames, flaking with rust. I slipped from the walkway into the water, ducking behind the huge desk as a hand appeared between the doors and shoved one of them aside. Two armed raiders emerged from the elevator, hurried over the walkways and out into the flooded street. I watched them head toward the glow of the burning building and quickly waded over to the elevator.
Shouldering the doors back, I observed the tube cautiously. The whole thing had obviously been jerry-built by Jackal’s men, and if I hadn’t just seen it in action I’d have doubted it could get off the ground. A simple steel frame encircled with wooden railings and wrapped with chain-link dangled from the thick cable. The floor was nothing but a few rotting planks, and I could see water sloshing underneath the wood. Some kind of lever had been welded to the corner, eaten with rust and sitting in a tangled nest of exposed wires. A few sparks jumped out to sizzle into nothingness, doing nothing for my skepticism.
Easing into the box, which creaked and swayed in protest, I stepped over the gaping holes in the floor and wrenched the lever up.
The lift shuddered, sparking furiously, and then began a slow but steady climb up into the blackness. I gripped the metal frame hard enough to leave impressions in the rust, gritted my teeth with every jolt or clang against the wall, and wondered how the people from before could stand being in a tiny box dangling hundreds of feet in the air.
Finally, the thing came to a screeching, lurching stop at another pair of doors, these in slightly better condition. They still had to be pried open, and I shouldered my way through, relieved to be on solid ground again.
Or…maybe not.
The first thing I saw, coming out of the elevator, was sky. Twenty feet from the doors, a wall of windows stretched away down the hall, showing the dark, gleaming, decayed glory of the city below. Much of the glass had blown out, and a sharp wind hissed through the frames, whipping at my hair, smelling of water and smoke.
The next thing I saw was a guard at the end of the corridor. He stood in front of the windows, gazing down at the streets, but turned as I stepped out of the elevator. He blinked, no doubt startled to see a vampire girl at the end of the hall.
Too bad for him. I lunged across the floor and hit him hard, and he didn’t make a sound as he slumped down the wall. Stepping around his body, I reached for the door.
Light spilled from beneath, and a faint, nearly inaudible hum came from beyond the wall. Hoping I wouldn’t find a grinning raider king on the other side, I eased the door open and peered through the crack.
Searing light blinded me, and I flinched away. Shielding my eyes, I tried again, squinting through the haze. The room beyond was painfully bright; light came from every corner, every nook and cranny, leaving no shadows whatsoever. Countertops and shelves lined the walls, some holding books, some holding odd machines and glass tubes that reflected the light. How was it so bright? Not even a hundred torches or flashlights could light up a room like this. I pushed the door open a little farther, scanning the room cautiously.
More oddities. Across the room, a strange green board hung on the wall, one half scrawled with white letters and numbers that meant nothing to me. A map had been taped to the other half, showing “The United States of America,” as it was before the plague. It, too, had been marked up and scrawled on with red ink, things circled and crossed out in what looked like frustration.
Movement caught my attention. In the corner, opposite the wall of glass running the length of the room, sat a monstrous old desk. A blinking screen sat on one side, showing lists of words I couldn’t make out. I stared at it, mystified. A real computer, from an age where such technology could be found in every household. I’d never seen a working one before, though rumors in the Fringe had said they existed, if you had an external power source. Jackal had put a lot of thought and time into creating this place. What exactly did he expect to do here?
I continued to scan the room, moving my gaze along the far wall, and finally found what I was looking for.
A man stood at the window, silhouetted against the night sky, gazing down on the city. A faint glow flickered over the sharp features of Jebbadiah Crosse, casting his face in red light. And it might’ve been my imagination, but I thought I saw a glimmering wetness down one hollow cheek. The look on his face was one of devastation, of a man who had lost everything and had nothing left to live for.
I opened the door fully and stepped into the room. “Jebbadiah.”
He turned, and for a moment surprise crossed his harsh features. “You,” he said, frowning. “The vampire girl. How… Why are you here?” He paused, gave a bitter smile. “Ah, yes. You followed us, didn’t you? You wouldn’t just let us go. It makes sense now. Revenge comes so easily for your kind.” His voice changed, becoming cold and steely, filled with hate. “This is the perfect place for you. A lost city, filled with demons and sinners, ruled by a devil. Have you come to gloat, then? See the old man who has lost everything?”