Shadows

by Peter Cawdron

  The turnstile opened outward automatically and she stepped through as she heard her name being called from behind.

  “Susan!”

  She recognized the voice. It was Barney. She turned back from the other side of the security station. No one was looking at her, no one other than Barney jogging up to the turnstile.

  “Hey,” he said with a friendly smile, walking out of the IT department after her.

  Susan had to turn and keep going. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She stepped out on to the landing in front of level 34. The familiar feel of the rough tread beneath her boots was reassuring.

  “I've been looking for you,” Barney said, coming up beside her as she gripped the handrail on the landing. The irregular pulse of boots on the stairs gave the handrail a slight tremor, rippling back and forth beneath her fingers, soothing her troubled soul.

  “Are you OK?” he asked.

  “Yeah, fine,” she said, turning and forcing a smile as she put on a pretense. He seemed to buy it, smiling back.

  “Listen,” he said, fishing for something in his pocket with his right hand. “You dropped this the other night.”

  It was only then she became aware of Hammond standing behind the counter in the security station. He was flicking through the ledger, apparently ignoring them, but she knew he'd be focusing his mind to pick up any stray words from their conversation.

  Barney whispered, “Don't look.”

  She turned back to him. Their eyes met, and she could see he was afraid. He held the hair-band out in front of her, playing with it as he fidgeted nervously.

  “Ah, you know, I had a great time the other night,” he said in a pleasant voice that sounded as though he didn't have a care in the world.

  She knew what he was doing, he was covering for Charlie. Hammond must have found her hair-band, but he hadn't put two-and-two together. He knew she'd been down there, but he must have figured Barney took her in there for some privacy, to grandstand and strut his feathers as teenagers do. If he knew Charlie had been in there too, there would be hell to pay.

  Susan took a deep breath, saying, “Me too.”

  She smiled at him and added, “Thank you.”

  “So I ...” Barney was lost for words. He was clearly trying to put up a facade for Hammond. The look in his eyes was one of abject fear, although it didn't come across in his voice. “I guess I'll see you around.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  So long as Hammond thought they were a couple they were safe, but Hammond had seen her with Charlie. He had to think she was playing the field. She had to make this look convincing. Susan rested her hands on either side of Barney's hips and reached in and kissed him on the lips, being sure to linger for a second so as to impart some feeling. She closed her eyes, feeling his hands resting gently on her shoulders.

  In that moment, as she closed her eyes, she was transported back to the tenth grade. His lips were soft and just as gentle as they had been then.

  “GET AWAY FROM HER!” a voice cried from the stairs.

  They both turned. Her heart raced.

  Charlie was standing no more than three steps up from the landing, having come down from above. He paused with his hand on the railing and his legs poised to spring.

  Barney stepped backwards.

  Susan stepped toward Charlie, beckoning with her hands, saying, “Charlie, wait! It's not what you—”

  Charlie launched himself at Barney, knocking him to the ground and pummeling him with his fists. Barney tried to defend himself, putting his arms up to block the blows, but he didn't strike back.

  “NO!” Susan screamed.

  Charlie unleashed three or four rapid punches to Barney's head, striking him on jaw, the cheekbone and the nose. Brilliant red splatters of blood sprayed out across the landing. The IT security team rushed out of their station, but it took them a few seconds to get out through the door, over the turnstile and onto the landing.

  Susan kicked Charlie, catching him on the side of his stomach as she yelled, “GET OFF HIM!”

  For his part, Charlie kept swinging at Barney as the two of them rolled on the metal landing. Charlie was manic, with his arms pumping and his fists swinging back and forth. The sound of each blow sickened Susan, she kept screaming, but Charlie wouldn't stop.

  One of the security guards grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him away, while another stood between him and Barney with his arms out, keeping them apart. Blood ran from Barney's nose, staining his white coveralls. Brilliant splashes of red marred the floor and walls. A dozen heads peered from within IT, trying to see the commotion.

  Susan ran to Barney. At the time, she wasn't sure why she didn't run to Charlie, but it was the sense of injustice and pity she felt for Barney. She rested her hand on his upper arm.

  “Are you ok?”

  Barney looked up at her. His eyes spoke of a pain more than physical. She could see the anguish in the depths of his soul. He nodded slowly. His cheek twitched involuntarily and she could see he was shaken.

  “Sue!” Charlie cried, still being held back by the security guard. The guard had him in a headlock, with his arms wrapped under Charlie's shoulder and his hands behind the small of Charlie's neck. Any movement Charlie made resulted in the guard applying pressure and bringing him quickly to a halt.

  “Don't,” Susan said, standing beside Barney. She turned and pointing a finger. “Don't you dare.”

  She was so angry she almost stormed over and slapped him. She wanted to, but the guards were intimidating.

  Hammond walked out of IT and up to Barney. His voice was gruff, and unusually calm given the circumstances.

  “Do you want to press charges, son?”

  Barney never looked up from the view of his blood soaked coveralls. He simply shook his head as he wiped his nose.

  “Let him go,” Hammond said to the guard.

  The security guard standing between Charlie and Barney had a nightstick out, ready to use it if Charlie tried anything. Charlie just stood there nursing a split lip as the IT personnel took Barney back inside the turnstile to get medical attention. Susan and Charlie were left alone on the landing. A couple of porters had come to a halt about ten steps down on the stairs, waiting to cross the landing.

  “What is wrong with you?” Susan demanded, storming past Charlie.

  “Me?” Charlie replied. “You—”

  “Don't you dare,” she repeated, cutting him off. “You have no idea. What the hell were you doing down here anyway?”

  “I ... ah.”

  “Were you following me?” she asked.

  “I just wanted to see you.”

  “You were stalking me,” she said as the realization sunk in.

  “Sue, I—”

  “No,” she replied, waving her hand in front of him, gesturing for him to stop. “I am not your prize, your conquest for a night. I am not some trophy you can fight over and boast about with the boys in the abandoned storage area on twelve. Have you got that?”

  Charlie pursed his lips, softly nodding his head.

  “Can we talk about this?” he asked.

  “Just ... Just leave me alone, OK?” she replied, and she turned and stormed up the stairs, leaving him standing there with blood dripping from his lip.

  Susan felt an overwhelming sense of revulsion at what had happened. She had to get away from Charlie and clear her head. She dropped her pack off in the porting station on the next floor and told the attendant she was feeling sick and calling it a day. It wasn't a lie. She wasn't physically sick, but she felt as though she were with the chaos of so many conflicting thoughts running through her mind. She needed some time to straighten her thinking. She needed to talk to her mother. Lisa would hear about what happened and no doubt piece together why she'd left. Susan would face her another day. For now, she wanted her Mom.

  Susan walked out of the porter's office, hoping she wouldn't run into Charlie on the stairs. That would be awkward. She wanted to tell him what had happe
ned with the hairband, but the conflict she felt was more than just her revulsion to the fight. She felt sick to know someone she loved could act so brutally. What she'd witnessed seemed to be more of an animal attack than a fight, and that shook her. She needed some time, some space. Tears streamed from her eyes. Everyone she passed stared at her, making her feel worse. She wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling self-conscious as she headed up the stairs.

  Susan hurried, knowing she had to traverse over twenty floors to get to the garment factories on twelve. Her mother oversaw a group of cutters and two teams working on the looms. Her mother would know what to do.

  Susan was passing the hydroponics farm on nineteen when the quake hit. She'd felt tremors before, but never anything like this. The initial pulse came out of nowhere, surprising her, passing through her and rattling her teeth. She could feel the low sonic wave pass through her chest cavity. It was as though someone had thumped her on the sternum. Her feet left the stairs as the entire silo shook. She had her hand on the rail, and clenched her fingers to stop herself from falling. Several other porters on the stairs ahead of her slipped and tumbled, rolling down the steps in front of her.

  At first, she thought there had been an explosion, but the deafening crash that cut through the air was too sharp. It didn't resonate. Cracks appeared in the concrete wall beside her, running down the shaft. The stairs shook. The lights went out, plunging the Great Fall into darkness, terrifying her. It took a few seconds for the emergency lights to kick in.

  Something plunged past, diving headlong into the deep. It was only when the scream registered in her ears that she realized someone had fallen, a woman. Several men fell past as well, screaming as they plunged over a hundred floors to their death. Above her, the sound of metal twisting and breaking cut through the panic around her. A dark shadow blotted out the emergency lights above before crashing into the staircase ahead of her, crushing the railing and showering her with fragments of rock and dust. The huge concrete slab rebounded, colliding with the wall opposite her before catching the edge of the lower landing as it hurtled through the heart of the silo. The landing crumpled and swung perilously out into the Great Fall with two men clinging onto the crushed, sloping metal frame. Susan blinked and then there was one: a young teenager hanging onto life.

  Everything happened so fast, Susan didn't know what to think. She froze, clinging to the railing as someone else tumbled past on the stairs, calling out for help.

  The disintegrating concrete slab continued to wreak havoc hundreds of feet below her, crashing into the stairs and landings as it broke up. In that moment, she realized what had fallen. Part of the dome over the Great Fall had come away.

  Water cascaded down from above, pouring into the stairs surrounding the void and turning the shaft into a waterfall. Streams of water ran down the stairs, undulating over her boots while falling onto her from above.

  People were screaming, so much so Susan couldn't tell from where. Someone scrambled past her on all fours, rushing up the stairs against the flow of water.

  “Silo's dead,” he cried. “We're all dead.”

  Within seconds, he was gone, up around the bend in the stairs. Water continued to pour down from above, soaking her coveralls. Susan sunk to her knees, with her arms wrapped around the railing, still holding on for dear life even though the shaking had stopped. She wasn't sure how long she sat there in the rain, with water streaming down past her but she was in shock. She couldn't move.

  “Help!” came a cry from below her. For a second, she thought she recognized the voice. It was Charlie! Her body spasmed as she realized it was some other boy Charlie's age holding on to the ruined remains of the landing leading to hydroponics. His feet dangled over the Great Fall. Blood dripped from his arm, washed away by the torrent of water cascading down from the sewage treatment plant above.

  “Got to do something,” she told herself. “Can't leave him.”

  At the time, Susan didn’t understand why she spoke in such clipped terms, but subconsciously she was struggling with the realization that she had to act or the boy would die. Deep down she wanted someone else to do something to help the boy, anyone but her. So many conflicting emotions ran through her mind: fear for her own life, shock at what had happened, anguish at seeing people falling to their death, horror at the speed with which the silo had spun out of control, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness. She had to help that boy. She couldn’t stand the idea of watching someone else die needlessly, not when it was within her power to help.

  Susan got to her trembling feet. Her hands refused to let go of the railing. She had to force herself to move down the stairs, swapping hands as she went. Whereas once the stairs had seemed so resolute, now they felt frail, almost flimsy beneath her boots. She gripped the rail as though her life depended on the strength of her fingers. She was safe. The concrete slab had struck above her with a glancing blow, leaving her section of the stairs intact, but mentally she couldn't bring herself to let go. Fear coursed through her veins.

  “Please, help me,” the boy cried out. He was holding onto the crushed landing with one arm. His other arm hung limp by his side as he lay on the twisted metal floor sloping into the Great Fall. Susan wasn't good with estimating angles, but she figured the wreckage looked as though it were on a thirty degree slope.

  “Hold on,” she called out, quickening her pace down the curve of the stairs leading to hydroponics. Water made the steel steps slippery.

  Rain washed over the teenage boy. He was younger than her, she could see that, but probably only by a couple of years. He swung his feet, trying to reach the edge of the landing, but by swinging his body he was applying torque, causing the platform to groan and twist as the crushed supports swayed beneath him.

  “Stay still,” she yelled, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

  Where once the stairs had lighted on a landing now there was a twisted mesh of steel falling sharply into the wide expanse of the shaft. The railing had been torn off. Jagged strands of metal poked out from the wall where the landing had only minutes before sat so securely.

  The boy was about ten feet below her.

  “Please, hurry,” he cried.

  Scared faces peered out from inside the darkened hydroponics level.

  “Get a ladder,” Susan cried, “or some rope.”

  “I'm slipping,” the boy yelled.

  “Hold on,” Susan said, trying to figure out how she could get down to him without falling herself.

  “I'm scared,” he said, his voice trembling.

  “We're all scared,” she replied. “But we're going to get through this. You're going to be OK. Just hold on.”

  Water continued to cascade down from above, soaking both of them.

  “What's your name?” she asked, trying to distract him while she began climbing down beside him.

  “James ... James Ackerman.”

  “Hello, James,” she replied, making sure she had a good hold on the stairs as she tested the landing, slowly shifting her weight onto the frail, crumpled structure. “I'm Susan. I'm a porter. I'm going to get you out of here, OK. Just hold on a little longer for me, James. OK?”

  The landing swayed with her weight, leaning further into the shaft.

  “I've got some rope,” someone cried from the hydroponics level. Through the stream of water pelting down upon her, Susan struggled to make out the form of several men standing there with rope around their waists. One of them threw the rope down for the boy, but with only one good hand he couldn't grab it.

  Susan reached across and grabbed the rope, pulling it toward her.

  “Listen James, I'm going to come down beside you and grab you, OK? And these guys are going to pull us up.”

  He didn't answer.

  Susan wrapped the rope around her forearm, clinching it tight in her right hand. She pulled on the rope and could see the men bracing themselves further back on the hydroponics level.

  She let go of the staircase and stepped d
own onto the crushed remains of the landing, hoping to walk her way down the steep incline to the boy, but her feet slipped from beneath her with the water raining down from above. The landing shook as she fell against it with a thud, and she found herself spinning around as she clung to the rope. The metal groaned. Not a good idea, she thought, not a good idea at all, in fact, that was a really stupid idea. If she could have taken back that moment she would have as she was in danger of becoming as much a victim as he was.

  Susan held onto the rope with both hands. The men began slowly lowering her down next to the boy.

  “I ... I can't grab you,” the boy said. “I can't let go.”

  “I know,” she said, as she came along side him. Their combined weight caused the landing to twist to the right, falling further away from the edge of the hydroponics level out into the middle of the Great Fall.

  Susan knew how afraid he was as she felt the same. She had to let go of the rope with her left hand in order to grab him, but every instinctive fiber of her being cried out against that act. It took deliberate focus to reach out and wrap one arm around him. She reached around his waist, grabbing at his coveralls, making sure she had a good hold of his pocket as she took his weight.

  “Grab the rope,” she cried.

  “I can't.”

  “You have to,” she yelled.

  The platform twisted.

  He was scared. She was yelling at him. Despite her frustration, she could see she wasn't helping.

  Susan softened her voice, saying, “Listen, we're almost there. You can do this. Grab hold of me. I won't let you go.”

  Water fell as rain within the silo, streaking down through the shaft and soaking them

  James looked her in the eyes. She could see the turmoil in his mind, the desire to trust her running in conflict with the uncertainty of letting go.