Shadows

by Peter Cawdron

  “It's important to spread out,” Charlotte reiterated, “As once we're sprung, we don't want to be concentrated in one spot. It'll be too easy for them to pin us down and out-flank us.”

  The sheriff gestured to Charlotte, saying, “You're gonna have to lose those fancy coveralls. Anything out of the ordinary is going to spook the folks down there.”

  “No problem,” Charlotte replied. “I've got a pair from mechanical that I wore while climbing the stairs.”

  Charlotte rolled up the map, slipping it back into the long, thin storage tube as Jules said, “Time to go.”

  Susan felt nervous. Her stomach churned.

  “You should stay here,” she said, turning to Charlie.

  “Hell, no,” he replied, slipping on a hat. He pulled the cap down so the brim sat just above his eyebrows. With his collar turned up, obscuring the bandage on his neck, he got to his feet. The bloody bandages on his arms were still visible, but so many people within the silo were carrying some kind of injury that he didn't look out of place.

  Susan slipped the revolver into the pouch/pocket in the front of her coveralls and felt the weight of the revolver pull her coveralls taut. She followed the others, with her hands resting inside the pouch, feeling the cold, hard steel beneath her fingers.

  Chapter 14: Hammond

  Descending the spiral staircase, Susan felt sick. She should have had something to eat. Porting on an empty stomach was never a good idea. Even with Charlie beside her, the ominous reality of confronting Hammond on his turf was daunting.

  Charlie was surprisingly agile on the stairs. She wasn't sure what had happened to his leg, but going down stairs didn't seem to bother him.

  Spiral after spiral revealed each of the landings leading to the various levels. There were more people on the stairs today. If it hadn't been for the damaged sections and the cracks in the concrete, Susan could have almost convinced herself life was back to normal. That normal would never return was something she didn't want to face at this point. One stair after another, as the porters would say. Don't think about the landings, just the next step.

  Thirty four levels had never taken so long, she was sure of it. She felt as though she were on a run into the Deep. She recognized a few friendly faces on the stairs, a couple of porters she knew and a cook. Susan said hello, but any words that drifted from her lips felt shallow and meaningless. Little did they know how their fates were entwined with hers over the next hour or so. That they would either live free under blue skies or die violently as the silo collapsed wouldn't have occurred to any of them. For them, this was just another day, carrying no more significance than yesterday. Susan knew better.

  Jules had introduced the other two men to Susan, but she didn't catch their names. Her head was still spinning from the conversation in the cafeteria. Both men were dressed in white coveralls like Charlie. Jules and Charlotte were in mechanical blue, carrying an open tool box. Beneath the screwdrivers and hammers, Susan could see the barrels of several guns.

  As they approached level thirty three, immediately above Information and Technology on thirty four, Jules signaled for them to slow, letting Mayor Johns and the sheriff walk on ahead. Several IT workers passed them on the stairs, not paying them any attention. The mayor and the sheriff were almost a complete turn ahead of them by the time they reached the landing on thirty four.

  “It's all about the timing,” Jules said. She seemed to anticipate what was about to happen, slowing their descent slightly.

  The mayor walked confidently up to the security turnstile. Both turnstiles were open. Someone had removed part of the barricade, which was a good sign, thought Susan.

  The mayor swiped her card and the turnstile beeped and went green, opening before her.

  “I'm sorry,” said one of the security guards, stepping out on the other side of the open turnstile and barring her way. “I can't let you in.”

  “Young man,” the mayor said sternly. “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes Ma'am, but Mr. Hammond has given strict instructions. No one is allowed on the floor other than carded IT staff. No exceptions.”

  Jules quickened her pace slightly. Susan kept in step beside her, shielding Charlie from view. The audacity, she thought. They were hiding in plain sight, taking advantage of the distracted security guards, timing their rush so they'd come through immediately behind the mayor. They'd be on top of the security guards before they knew what was happening.

  Jules had her toolbox in front of her, with her hand buried within the box, no doubt clenching a gun.

  “I am not an exception,” the mayor said some twenty feet away, indignantly slapping her key card down on the turnstile, keeping it open for the sheriff behind her and for those following hard behind. The mayor stepped forward and pushed the guard out of the way. “I am your mayor!”

  “But,” the guard spluttered as another guard came up beside him. “But the sheriff, he's no longer sheriff.”

  “He's my personal aide. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No Ma'am.”

  The mayor continued marching the guards backwards. They were confused by her boldness.

  Susan got her first good look beyond the barricade as she and Jules came up to the turnstile.

  Desks had been overturned beyond the landing. Steel plates had been welded in place. The desks were staggered, allowing people to move unseen behind them. IT workers leaned over the top of several desks with rifles trained on the turnstile. The mayor, though, didn't show the slightest concern. She seemed oblivious. She wasn't, of that Susan was sure, but her confidence must have intimidated the IT workers. They weren't sure what to make of her intrusion and were distracted by her. They must have felt a sense of conflict between what they'd been told and the mayor's authority over the silo.

  The smell of diesel hung in the air. The whine and splutter of a power generator came from the far corner of the floor. IT was still largely offline, running on emergency power.

  “Where is Mr. Hammond?” the mayor cried out. Damn, she was good, thought Susan, slowing as she crouched behind Jules, coming through the turnstile behind the sheriff. For his part, the sheriff had stepped up beside the mayor, coming almost shoulder to shoulder with her as she faced down the IT security guards, blocking their view of the open turnstile.

  “This is outrageous,” the mayor bellowed, her voice booming through the level. “What the hell have you done down here? What the hell is going on?”

  The mayor and the sheriff had continued advancing forward, backing the guards away from the entrance. The very tables turned over and welded together to act as shields now hid the others from view. Susan and Charlie scurried to the left, staying low, out of sight behind the desks. Jules and Charlotte remained by the turnstile, having slipped into the security office and out of sight.

  “Get me Mr. Hammond,” the mayor demanded. “Now!”

  Susan liked her style. She was drawing him out, bringing him to them.

  Someone ran to the back of the floor, twisting and turning as he jogged between the upturned desks. Numerous heads peeked over the desks curiously, betraying their positions.

  The mayor had marched well onto the floor, with the guards backing up. They turned, looking at the runner heading to get Hammond, and Jules made her move, followed by Charlotte, darting over to the far side of the floor.

  Charlie led Susan around the desks and over to the wall.

  “Hey,” a voice cried, and Susan turned to see one of the IT workers leveling a rifle at her and Charlie. She froze, her fingers tightening around the gun in her pouch.

  “She's with me,” Charlie said, straightening up, which wasn't out of place as most of the other IT workers were crouched or seated.

  “Who are you?” the man asked.

  “I'm Charlie!”

  The way Charlie said his name, with his arms outstretched and seemingly innocent, he was utterly convincing, thought Susan, but the armed worker didn't think so. He raised his rifle to hi
s shoulders, clicking something on the side of the barrel, just above the trigger.

  A shot rang out, echoing off the concrete walls.

  The noise was deafening, louder than anything she'd ever heard before.

  There was a small hole in her coveralls, directly over her stomach.

  Susan staggered backwards.

  An acrid smell lashed at her nostrils, stinging her eyes, causing tears to form.

  Before her, the guard crumpled, keeling forward and dropping his rifle as he clutched at his chest. Brilliant splashes of red marred his white coveralls.

  Susan pulled her hand out of her coverall pouch, her fingers still clenched around the grip of the smoking gun.

  Charlie grabbed her, pulling her further along the floor.

  Susan stumbled, almost falling as gunfire erupted around the level.

  Charlotte stood in one corner, firing her handgun with devastating accuracy, catching several IT workers with head shots. Blood sprayed through the air.

  Sheriff Cann and the mayor raced through the center of the floor, making a run for the offices and the meeting rooms at the back of the level, weaving between the barricades. Charlotte was covering them, shooting anyone that threatened them. Jules rushed along the far side of the floor. She too was firing at anyone that rose up from behind the metal desks.

  Charlie dragged Susan on, racing past confused IT workers. Most people were taking cover from the sudden, unexpected onslaught.

  From between the desks, Susan saw Charlotte reeling to one side and dropping out of sight. Deep red blood stained the wall where once she had stood and Susan found herself confused as to what had happened. It took a second for her to realize Charlotte had been shot.

  “Hammond,” the mayor cried above the confusion.

  Hammond ducked into a doorway as the sheriff fired at him. Glass shattered, spraying across the ground.

  Hammond was armed. He fired back and Susan watched in horror as the mayor spun to one side and slammed against the floor. That she fell without breaking her fall was alarming. Blood pooled on the floor beside her.

  Another shot rang out and the sheriff crumpled onto the floor, clutching at his chest. Blood splattered across the desk behind him.

  “No!” Charlie cried, running out toward the sheriff. He grabbed the old man with his one good arm, and struggled to pull him back behind cover.

  Susan lost site of Jules, but she could hear the crack of gunfire. The sound of the rifles was distinctly different from that of the revolvers.

  Susan stopped behind cover, with her back leaning up against a desk next to the mayor. Mayor Johns lay face down in a pool of blood, her eyes staring blankly into the distance.

  Death had never been so cruel to Susan. There was nothing she could do, and that struck her as profoundly tragic. Here lay a woman she'd known and admired her whole life, a woman who had seen past her own prejudices to realize Susan and her family deserved a second chance. A woman that had the courage to publicly challenge Hammond by voting against him during the trial. Mayor Johns must have felt duty bound when Charlie was sent to clean, but Susan had no doubt she hated herself for that. Then, just a few hours ago, she'd learned the truth about the silos. Then with nothing more than the testimony of a cleaner to go on, had accepted her world being turned upside down. By coming down to IT, she had the audacity to challenge The Order, undermining the very system she was sworn to protect, and now she was dead.

  Susan sobbed. What could she do? There was nothing she could do for Mayor Johns other than to ensure her death was not in vain, and that thought steeled Susan's resolve. Peering around the corner, she saw Hammond darting toward the server room. She couldn't let him bring down the silo.

  “Charlie,” she cried, chasing after Hammond with her revolver out in front of her.

  As she rounded the corner, Hammond fired at her, but he was too busy punching a code into the keypad on the server room door to aim properly. Susan pointed her revolver at him, holding the gun as Charlotte had taught her, bracing herself to fire. She tried not to close her eyes, but the prospect of the crack and violence overwhelmed her and she winced as she jerked at the trigger. The recoil threw her arms back as a deafening boom leapt from the end of the barrel.

  Charlie scampered in front of her.

  She looked and Hammond was nowhere to be seen. The server room door had opened briefly and was beginning to shut. Charlie dived for the closing door. The automatic, sliding door clipped his legs and opened again temporarily, giving her enough time to squeeze through as Charlie scrambled around the side of the server racks.

  Shots rang out.

  Susan didn't think gunshots could get any louder, but within the sealed, metal room, the deafening boom shook her to the core. Adrenalin surged through her body. Her eyes were wide with fear.

  Charlie slumped back against a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall. He staggered, trying to use the wall behind him for support. Slowly, he slid down and sat slumped on the floor. Streaks of blood ran down the wall behind him. He leaned against the fire extinguisher, favoring his right shoulder, panting for breath. Blood seeped from a bullet wound.

  Susan wanted to rush to him, but their eyes met and in that instant she understood what he was trying to tell her. The motion of his head was so slight as to be barely perceptible, but that subtle movement screamed, “No, stay where you are.”

  She froze, huddled behind one of the servers, barely two feet from him, knowing Hammond was using Charlie as bait. His longing eyes told her that she was the only reason he was still alive.

  “It doesn't have to end like this,” Susan yelled, moving away from Charlie. The room was divided into several rows of tall server racks, obscuring the view of anything other than the immediate row. Susan darted into a narrow gap between two servers in the outside row, staying away from Charlie, hoping she was doing the right thing. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

  “Where are you, girl?” Hammond called out, his voice echoing through the room, making it difficult to gauge anything other than a vague direction. He must have been crouching between the rows, Susan thought, near where the hatch to the hidden level lay beneath the floor. He probably had two fields of view, looking to one side of the servers he'd be able to see Charlie, looking to the other side he'd see the door. He had to know Susan was in the outer row, furthest from him. She held her breath, not daring to look out into her row in case he'd snuck along to peer down the length of the only other walkway within the server room.

  “What's the matter, girl?” Hammond cried, taunting her. “Afraid to die for your convictions?”

  It was then she realized he was doing something. She wasn't sure how she could tell, but there was a waver in his voice, a hesitancy that sounded distracted. Whatever process there was to destroy the silo, he had to be intent on that, talking to keep her at bay while he unleashed his fury on them all.

  Against her instinct to hunker down, she snuck out into the walkway and crept down to the end of the row, passing the black servers. Tiny lights flashed. Electrical circuits hummed, whispering of untold computing power busily processing millions of instructions every second.

  “You think they're innocent?” Hammond said, his voice dropping. He was concentrating on something else. She could tell he was trying to do two things at once. “None of us are innocent. We're all guilty. Guilt runs in our blood. You may not know it, but the only reason you're here is because your ancestors destroyed this world. They destroyed the world so you could live. Without them, you wouldn't exist.”

  Susan caught a glimpse of Hammond between the wires and computer servers, just a flicker as he moved around in the far row. His hair was matted. Blood soaked the corner of his beard, dripping from his mouth. He hadn't seen her. He was checking the walkway connecting all three rows, expecting her to come from one of them, but she was making her way between the servers.

  Susan continued working through the tangle of wires and cables between the computer servers, squeezing throu
gh the tight gaps, keeping her gun out in front of her. The hammer was cocked, her finger sat poised on the trigger, feeling the smooth metal fitting snug in the crook of her finger.

  “You think I'm alone?” he called out. “No one answers the radio any more, but I'm not alone. These are my children. These servers. You see, no one silo controls our fate. All the silos share their processing with each other. The Pact will be kept. The Shepherd's vision will be accomplished.”

  Susan wasn't sure what he was talking about, but it didn't matter, so long as he kept talking she could continue to inch forward, creeping up in his blind spot.

  Computer cables caught around her boots, tangling her. Slowly, she picked her way free, crossing the middle isle and darting down a few more feet and slipping between another pair of servers.

  She could hear his heavy breathing, rasping, struggling.

  “Everyone dies,” he cried out, and she heard the unmistakable sound of a revolver being cocked. “It matters not if we die or when, but why we die, how we die, whether we die for a reason, for a greater purpose. Today, you'll die so others can live.”

  Susan squeezed between two computer server towers, peering into the last row.

  Hammond had his back to her. He was standing in front of a junction box, but an array of digits and letters lit up a panel inside instead of wiring. He was priming a pump, working with a hand lever. She'd seen this before, down in mechanical on a long run to the deep. It was the same way the mechanics primed their diesel engines, building up charge in a capacitor before starting a pump. This had to be part of the sequence to destroy the silo.

  “You hear me?” he yelled. “We're all going to die.”

  Slowly, she stepped out into the walkway, grimacing as the steel grates on the raised floor flexed and creaked under her weight. Her boots caught on loose wires between the servers. She could feel the tension of the cables as she pulled her leg forward and had to steady herself so she didn't trip and fall. A bunch of cables had come loose. Slowly, she stepped out of them, never taking her eyes or the gun off the back of his head.