Neon Sands

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Neon Sands Page 11

by Adam J. Smith


  Ignoring Caia, Annora asked “Where are we, exactly?” The room was large, with desks and filing cabinets, even some artwork on the walls and vases long devoid of flowers. The walls were white, and clean; in fact – she walked along the side of one desk, running a finger along it – there was no dirt or dust anywhere.

  “Part of the municipal wing, if I had to guess,” said Walker. He busily opened drawers and cupboard doors.

  “But I don’t remember anything like this in Sanctum? Efa would’ve said if they had a hidden hatch.”

  “Just because there’s one here doesn’t mean there’s one there. Sanctum’s a lot smaller than this place, let me tell you. I have no idea what we’ll find.”

  “Will you know what you’re looking for when you see it?” she teased.

  “I ain’t going over this again.”

  “He knows jack,” said Caia. Her voice was tinny.

  “Where are you?” asked Annora.

  “Not far, just checking this shit out. The shower’s ain’t working, at least on this level.”

  “Showers!” shouted Annora. “I completely forgot about showers.” She crossed the room to an open door and stared down the corridor that lead from it, feeling strangely at home. Homesickness wasn’t a condition they could afford to feel, a waste of energy, and besides, the crawler was home, not Sanctum. And yet, as she walked down the corridor with its familiar grey hue and neon-lit corners, and peeked into off-set rooms with office desks and others with bathroom facilities; and further down she knew she would find a dental office and an array of surgeries and wards, a deep-set anchor unravelled from her heart and embedded in her guts. She missed these walls and the security of the bellied dual dome arching over them all like a roosting hen.

  She came to the central lift and looked up to the sand engulfed above the closed cage. Usually the filtered light of the dome was able to cascade down. There was a kind of sadness that swept through her as she realised that this place had lost its dome. Had been choked and cut from its protective womb. And then buried. She looked at the call button of the lift and realised they daren’t press it to go deeper and risk dislodging the sand. She swallowed quick breaths, trying to push down the rising fear of suffocation.

  Back in Sanctum, the municipal level had escape hatches in selected areas, all of which opened within the dome. Here, they would all be buried. The only way in and out being the hatch they entered by. “Did we get any weather readings for the next few hours?” she asked.

  From a room behind her, Walker said, “Looked to be steady going for a while. Storm out east but not coming our way.”

  “Maybe we should ask the others not to come down. To only explore in teams so there’s always someone above to clear away the sand so we don’t get trapped.”

  “Good call. Caia, Annora, can you both switch back to channel two please. We should all get back on the same wavelength.” There was a click. Annora could hear Walker down the corridor giving the order to the others to remain aboveground. She listened for other sounds and tried to gauge where Caia was, then spotted the flickering of distant light down one of the wider corridors, and headed down there. She switched channels.

  “These things are taking forever to charge, probably because the light is fading,” said Barrick, his voice coming through over static. “We’re going to head inside and grab something to eat. Not sure what else we can do in the dark.”

  “Okay. We’re going to explore a bit more down here. Just keep an eye out for any storms that might cover our exit, and keep one of the radios live.”

  “Roger.”

  “What exactly you got down there?” asked Calix, his voice fading in and out.

  After a few beats with no answer, Annora realised Walker and Caia were probably waiting for her to answer. She poked her head inside a door and an autolight came on. “It’s just like Sanctum’s municipal level.” A wall of glass cabinets with sliding doors lit up, keys dangling from locks. Behind the glass stood an array of plastic bottles with labels. “Hey,” she called out, “I got medicine here.”

  “Did you go left or right at the lift?” asked Walker.

  “Left.”

  “Be with you in a sec.”

  She stepped inside and ran her eyes over the bottles. Some were large and held maybe five-hundred pills, and others were small. The names on the labels meant nothing to her, but she could imagine Jacinta’s face when they turned up with this haul. She’d spend the next few weeks cataloguing and booking them into an inventory that had become almost bare over the years.

  “Nice,” said Walker, suddenly beside her.

  “Anything ... me?” asked Calix.

  “Probably,” said Annora.

  “There’re some painkillers,” said Walker, unlocking one of the cabinets. “We’ll bring some up with us.” He stuffed a pocket with a handful of the smaller bottles and headed back towards the corridor.

  Annora followed.

  “Caia?” he asked.

  “I’m at the end of the corridor,” she said.

  A rectangle of light cut through the dimness ahead from an open door, and they both walked that way. Annora noticed Walker stretch his back and ruffle his shoulders. He twisted his hands at the wrist and extended his fingers.

  “Achy?” she asked.

  “I’ll live.”

  They reached the doorway and caught Caia checking out the monitoring station. Camera screens filled one wall, but most of them were dark. In fact the only bright ones appeared to be of this level.

  “Anything?” asked Walker.

  “Hard to tell what is and isn’t working. The lift is out of action for obvious reasons. The place is running on fumes, already we’re stretching the remaining power. I think getting those bikes out of the ground may have killed some major systems, but I can’t be sure. There might be a reserve generator we could hook up to get full systems again, and if this is your standard dome layout then we’ll need to head all the way to the bottom.”

  Annora’s heart skipped a beat. Level six. She almost spoke out, with the child inside recalling Linwood’s warnings that no-one else was to go down to level six but him. If she said something, Walker might sense the excitement in her voice and order her to stay here. She bit her lip, aware of how irrational her feelings were, but at the same time placing trust in her doubt.

  Walker paced the monitors, with Caia scrolling through various heads-up screens. Red warning signs appeared strewn across most of the pages she visited. “Something really did a number on this place,” she said.

  “Let’s find a way down then. If we needed the extra power, how urgent is it? Will the lights hold out for a level-by-level search?” Walker bent over the console.

  “It’s at one-percent. That could last an hour or ten days, I just don’t know.”

  “Sanctum’s power is always at full.”

  “Our priority should probably be to get full power restored. If that’s even possible.” Caia began rummaging through some cupboards under the console. “Check out the other cupboards, maybe there’s a torch or something useful.”

  Annora opened the door nearest to her; inside was a stack of cables and other electronics, strange lenseless goggles and headsets – she picked one up and tried it on, but it did nothing – and a bank of hardback books with fictional titles and fantasy covers. There were also spoons and a stack of plastic cups, and a pile of washcloths that someone had meticulously folded and placed in a criss-cross fashion for an easier grab. No torch.

  “Here’s some,” said Walker, retrieving slim, black devices with a crank on the side. He handed them out and they each turned the crank to charge them up. Light flitted from the torch heads and they switched them off.

  “This way,” said Caia, heading out.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” asked Annora, following her footsteps.

  “By the logic of the standard design. Most settlements follow the same basic layout.”

  “The smaller settlements don’t have t
he same amount of levels underground,” said Walker.

  “Most of the time. Some have more. New Kingdom I’m told has ten levels, but is about half the size of Sanctum.”

  “Haven’t been there for ages,” said Walker. “They were even stricter with provisions than Sanctum.”

  Caia lead the way down the corridor. “When I was on Krul’s crew it was a regular stop for us. Even spent a few months there a couple years back.”

  “I was surprised when I heard,” said Walker.

  “Yeah, they’re tight as fuck. It was a surprise when they rescued me.” They came to some double doors and Caia gave them a push. “Here we are.”

  Lights flickered on the ceiling of the hallway. The walls were grey. Stairs lead down.

  “No shaft?” said Annora, staring into the darkness between the rising staircase.

  “There’s the emergency shaft but I saw this on the camera feed. Figure it’s easier than climbing down the rungs.”

  Annora trailed behind Caia as they began their descent, followed by Walker. “Whoever designed this place obviously had more common sense,” she said, trailing her hand down the smooth metal of the banister, “...then whoever designed Sanctum.”

  “Stairs would’ve been helpful,” agreed Caia. The light followed them down.

  “What happened with New Kingdom, anyway?” asked Annora. “Since you brought it up.”

  “Maybe she’ll tell us one day,” said Walker.

  Annora heard Caia’s sigh. Watched her feet quicken down the steps.

  “You don’t have to tell us,” said Annora. “But it might help.”

  “Help what?”

  “Kick the chip from your shoulder,” said Walker. “Slow up a bit.”

  “Keep up, granddad,” she said. At the bottom of each stairwell they turned, following the banister and steps as they snaked down.

  “Doors to each level,” Annora noted. Walker panted lightly behind her. Caia gained ground ahead of them. Annora’s skin suddenly prickled as though they had reached an invisible barrier, behind which it began to grow cooler. She remembered Sanctum’s levels and how it always grew cooler the lower you went, the more buried you became. It had always seemed a little funny to her that the source of their power was deep beneath them, and yet it was warmest at the furthest point from it. She blew into her hands and wished she had a fire to heat them.

  “Well, this is level five,” said Caia. She pushed the doors open and peered inside – rows of shelving stood in perfect symmetry to the invisible end wall. “Storeroom,” she said.

  “And yet it goes on,” said Annora, staring down.

  “Level six, and beyond,” said Caia.

  “Beyond?”

  “Who knows?”

  Swallowing his panting breaths, Walker said, “Linwood did say be careful. I have no idea what he meant by it, but he’s notorious for warning us about level six.”

  “Fuck Linwood and his rules,” said Caia. Something in her expression was off, Annora noted; Caia had turned away from the storeroom and was looking down the next staircase, but her eyes were unfocussed and her brow furrowed.

  “Let’s keep our eyes open, is all I’m saying.” Walker began to descend, quickly followed by Caia. The three of them went down into the darkness at Walker’s pace.

  Six

  Somehow eerier than the shadows and the thought of what could be hidden in the dimness, which seemed to be growing fainter by the minute, was the quietude. A peace and quiet that was rarely found even in Sanctum. No dull, resonant hum. No echoes of voices from films playing back. No footsteps but their own. Not even any signs of life like dirty laundry, or plates encrusted with a thousand year crud. Of course, they still had much to explore and the stairway was never going to reveal much, but even this seemed strangely clean. Where were the footmarks of a million boots treading their way up and down, up and down? Where were dirty handprints on the smooth banister?

  Annora’s breath, she suddenly noticed, was pluming before her mouth. She tightened her scarf around her neck, feeling as though she had passed the point of dipping a bare toe into cold water, and was now walking steadfastly into the deep end.

  She recalled the heat of summer trapped beneath Sanctum’s dome, and the luxury of the makeshift pool Rafe and his team created, storing water over the course of the year for the sole purpose of giving something for the children – and occasionally, the adults – to cool off in. Seemed like another lifetime. Another life.

  “How much further?” she said, peering down between the stairway and seeing only darkness.

  “No idea,” said Walker. “Hey, Barrick? Calix? Ardelia? Any of you reading us?”

  Silence.

  “We could be too deep,” said Caia.

  “It just keeps on going...” said Annora.

  “Thinking about the trek back up?”

  “Not with any joy.”

  The lights suddenly flickered and then went out.

  “Fuck,” said Caia. “No visitors for how long, and the power decides to go completely now.” As she said this, the lights came back.

  “We could get some rolling blackouts for a while, until it goes completely,” said Walker.

  “What happened to everyone?” wondered Annora, again. “Place seems like a big deal for us not to have any knowledge of it.”

  “Loss of knowledge,” Walker said as he took a final step into a deep hallway. His words echoed. “We’re just clambering our way back up the tree.”

  Tree... tree... tr.

  “Hello,” called Annora.

  Hello... hello... hell.

  “Let’s spread out,” said Caia. Her words too echoed around the antechamber.

  Annora headed towards the centre and ceiling lights flickered on. The lights fanned out as they each went their own way, revealing a glossy metallic surface underfoot, overhead, and the far reaches where the wall gleamed. “A metal coffin,” she said. She reached up and found she could touch the ceiling. It was oppressively low. Her distorted reflection reached down and almost touched the top of her head. “Anyone else getting warm?” Sweat ran down her temple.

  “Uh-huh. Freezing my ass off,” said Caia.

  “There’s the central lift,” said Walker, redirecting his path towards it. Its glass facade made it almost invisible within the metallic surfaces, only standing out by the criss-crossing gate.

  “Let’s take a look,” said Caia.

  As they got nearer a hatch came into view – a square one with a door lever instead of a wheel. Walker pulled out his torch and shone the light on it. “Let’s hope it’s not locked. Hold this,” he said to Annora, handing over the torch.

  In the light of the torch he turned the handle, fairly easily Annora thought. It clicked open. He braced his stance and pulled, lifting the hatch, revealing a pitch darkness that the light beam barely penetrated. The first few rungs of a ladder ran down into nothing.

  Annora’s chill deepened to the point she had to stop herself reaching out to Walker. Anything for warmth and the sudden desire for human contact. She wished Calix were here.

  Even Caia shivered.

  “The rabbit hole just keeps on going.” As Annora spoke, the echo of her words was absorbed, as though eaten; a sense of vastness in the dullness in which their words now fell flat.

  “You can go first this time,” smiled Walker. Caia glanced at him briefly then dropped to her haunches. She gripped the edge of the entrance and placed her legs on the initial rungs.

  Jumping on them, she said, “Seem sturdy enough,” then began to climb down until the top of her head disappeared.

  “Caia? Keep talking,” said Walker.

  “Yeah, yeah. Can’t see shit but all’s good. I’ll reach the bottom and then turn my torch on,” she shouted up.

  “Is it me or is it getting even colder?” whispered Annora.

  “Definitely.” Walker reached out and they touched hands. His were rough, and like ice.

  “You could freeze water with those,” sh
e said.

  “So could you.”

  There was a clattering below, like the sound of a cage being shaken. “You okay?” shouted Walker. Together, they leaned over the hole in the floor, straining to see. Their torchlight shimmered on an invisible barrier and was no help at all.

  Far below, a light finally glimmered. “Found the ground,” said Caia. She was louder in their earpieces than naturally. “But I don’t think it’s the ground.”

  “We’re coming,” said Walker. He looked up. “After you.”

  “Great.” The light below swung around in an arc, and though it gave some context it was still nothing more than a vague, floating target, like light at the end of a tunnel. She took a deep breath and began the descent. If her hands had not already been ice, the rungs would have done the job instead. Her breath plumed from mouth and nose with every exhalation, made more frequent now by the exertion of holding her own weight.

  Walker’s face was a portrait in a square frame above her, floating in blackness. All he had to do was swing the hatch down and they would be trapped forever in this strange sarcophagus on level six.

  Level six.

  How stupid they had been to imagine that level six was just like any of the other levels. Maybe two or three stories high, like Rec, but they had never imagined something like this. More like level sixty-six.

  Wait ‘til I tell Calix, she thought.

  The lower she descended, the less stable the ladder felt. Caia’s light found her and she saw why – the ladder was not connected to a wall and so it shook with every step.

  Is this such a good idea?

  “Little further,” said Caia. And the fact she was still there, waiting for them, only amplified Annora’s rising tension.

  “I’m coming,” said Walker, and the ladder shook as his weight fell upon it.

  Could’ve waited.

  Finally she was able to put two feet onto solid ground. As soon as she did, she shone her torch around her new-found surroundings. With one arm tucked around under her armpit, and shivers shaking her body, she revealed the metal structure they were standing on that was the platform for the lift. “So this is level six,” she said, kicking the bars across the lift entrance. The cage was there. Was it waiting for someone to go up, or had it dropped someone off? The whole frame rattled as she and Caia explored the boundaries of their entrapment.

 

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