This is Episode 5-11 of a serial urban fantasy & paranormal story.

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Part 5-11: Egress

I bounced off a heavy object, then into the side of the shaft. A jutting piece of something tore at my arm, and my hair flew around my face. In Clockworld’s grey, the shaft was perfectly visible, but since I was spinning downward there was nothing I could really see. Nothing to help anchor me.

The pain retreated, panic tagging in. The world whipped around and around. I fell faster, trying to scream, but my chest was heavy and sluggish from all the groaning I’d done before.

“Alena! Get out!” Deluxe said, from somewhere.

Too confused, too hurt. I was going to die in a short moment, at the bottom of this shaft. I even thought I saw the top of the elevator car in one of the sweeping arcs of my pinwheeling vision.

Someone slapped me across the face.

“Get out!” right in my ear.

The little kernel of rationality buried at the centre of my consciousness facepalmed and said, “Duh.” I rode the sting of the slap back to my real body, and awoke in the condo, shaking, the world blurry from tears. It took me a full two seconds to understand that Deluxe was the one shaking me.

“I fell,” I said, and started to cough as stinging bile tried to puke itself out of me.

“You used the new ability, didn’t you?” asked Deluxe, surrounding me with a calming embrace.

“Yeah,” I said, struck with inspiration. “It’s a real pain.”

She patiently waited for me to finish hacking and giggling at my own stupidity before producing a glass of water.

“Persi’s climbing down fast as she can,” said Deluxe, placing a hand to her headset. “But as soon as they get up to ten and see the open shaft they’ll have no choice but to sweep it.”

I pawed around the couch looking for my own headset, which must’ve come off in Deluxe’s attempts to rouse me. I found it hanging around my neck and put it back in place. “I can go back in. I’m okay. Just panicked, ya know?”

“I wish you didn’t have to, but we’ve little choice.”

I tended to agree. After one long swig of water, I rubbed at my body, noting that it was only a little sore in the hands and ankle, then returned my ghostly self to the fifth floor. The pain in my fists returned and my ankle throbbed. No health bar recharge on respawn. Figured.

The scientist fella and two armed companions stood outside Eden’s locked door. There was a hastily scrawled ‘X’ on its front, and the geek pecked at his tablet. I let the girls know about it, then put my head through the elevator doors, careful to respect the edge of the drop. A few storeys below, I saw the top of Persi’s head and shoulders as she navigated an internal ladder downward. Daring not to try my floating pool technique—not after that crazy fall—I toed onto the ladder myself and got a painfully firm handle on it before following her down.

“I’m in here with you Persi,” I said.

“Are you alright?” she whispered.

“About as alright as I can be.”

“Advise radio silence from Persi in the shaft,” said Deluxe. “Amplified acoustics.”

“Right,” I said. “I’m assuming it’s darker than Satan’s asshole in here for you Persi, so just know you’ll hit the top of the elevator car pretty soon. I’m guessing you’re between floor three and two right now.”

We got down without incident, and I guided her to the top of what looked like a hatch. It opened with a terrible, loud groan, but I didn’t hear anyone react to it. The cab was parked at a basement level. Here, the doors were open and led into a wide, mostly empty space. Two thin hallways led away from a big square room. In one corner, there was some hulking mass covered in a plastic sheet, which itself was covered in an inch of dust.

Persi put her hand over her face and stifled a cough. The dust was everywhere.

“Dirty ass basement,” I reported. “Can you see anything at all?”

She shook her head, so I had to carefully direct her steps. Luck finally decided to drop by and see what we'd been up to this month: the first side room we came to had an actual honest to goodness egress window. I went outside and looked around—we were at the back of the John B. Zachary Business Centre. Some trash partially blocked Persi’s exit, and there was a soldier stationed at each of the two building corners that I could see. Behind the office itself were the backs of several thinner buildings. This created at least three paths that broke away at 90 degrees from the longer alley created by the rear ends of the establishments. One of these paths was close by.

“I can run fast,” Persi said.

The window opened with a crunch, and one of the garbage bags outside shifted. I stood outside, staring down the closest guard. They looked down the alley at the noise, casual-like.

“Hold,” I said.

The guard looked the other way. I stole a glance down at the opposite end. Couldn’t tell which way the other one faced, too far away.

“Go,” I said.

A slight rustle as she navigated the trash, then Persi was up and out, slouched low and moving at the pace of power walk. She crossed the alley—no shouts. She melted against the side of the neighbouring building, skulked along in the shadows, and rounded the corner. Halfway to the street, she hit the gas and sprinted, quiet as a gazelle loping through a meadow.

We were out.

 

Continued in Part 5-12

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