Go For Stories

“You did what?!” Milly took a large step back, her lip curled in disgust.

Nigel cringed at her disdain. “I planned to leave him for the cops. I really did, but then he started to taunt me; making jibes about Julia and Mads. I think he wanted me to do it, I figured out later. He wanted to die, why else would he push me like that? I fought against my urges, biting my tongue and turning away. I almost got out of there too, but then I saw the pills and the weapons and the bloodied clothes. It was fresh blood too. Still had a bit of shine to it, you know? With the nerves cooling in my body, I could see the man for what he really was.”

“So you did it to stop him killing again?” Milly’s voice had a desperate tone of optimism to it. She wanted him to be good still. She wanted to not have her view of him tainted forever.

“I wish that was the case, but no.” Nigel kept his eyes fixed on some distant point beyond walls and layers of earth and time itself. It was not worth it to see their expressions. “I did it because it made me mad. Seeing that my girls were just a couple of blips in a lifetime of murder and theft made me lose it. He was saying something about the taste of blood on his lips as I kicked his chair backwards.

“His eyes, they, he never expected me to do it. As I hit him, over and over, I kept my eyes fixed on his. Even as they swelled so I could hardly make them out in the mess of his face, I kept my eyes locked on his. I saw them every night for years after that. Every time I lay down to sleep, or when things got quiet, there they were. Haunting me.

“I poured every ounce of hatred and rage out through my fists. His bones cracked and his blood spattered my clothes, but I kept going, and I kept watching his eyes as, as I …”

He stopped. There was something about the man’s eyes. Something that shocked Nigel out of his memories and into the present.

“His eyes!” He shouted, driving Milly back into Bec. “His eyes. Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t-”

The building shook. No mere rumble this time, it rattled Nigel’s teeth and rocked them to the floor. The lights grew so bright that he screwed his eyes shut to keep from going blind. Even through the eyelids, it was painful. Bits of ceiling broke off and hammered down on him. The light grew and grew and then, in a burst of glass that rained down on them all, it stopped. The light had gone and the building settled.

Nigel looked around. Most of the lights in the place had shattered. The ones that still worked, did so with a feeble dimness. Milly and Bec had fallen in a tangle, protecting each other from the shower of glass and debris. Nigel crawled to them, afraid to stand on his shaking legs.

“Are you alright?”

They nodded.

“The reactor is going. We’re running out of time. Come on.”

He stood, wobbling a little, and reached out to help. Milly pushed his hand away.

“I can stand on my own.” It hurt him that her look was more pity than anger or disgust.

He looked at Bec, who shook her head.

“Fine. Just hurry up. The whole place might come down at any moment.”

Once they were all on their feet, they ran out of the jumbled furniture of the café and back into the hall. Lights now hung from the ceiling, swinging to their own rhythm. Fittings sparked, giving their path an occasional boost of bright light. An aftershock sent them careening to the wall, but they kept running. Out of the hallways and into the stairwell they went. Nigel took the lead and the women followed, with Bec helping Milly on her damaged leg.

Up and up and up they went, spiralling through the guts of the building. The walls had cracked and crumbled. Small chunks of concrete lay scattered on the treads. Dust filled the air. They coughed and panted and climbed, slowing all the while. Nigel’s legs burned along with his lungs and his head felt heavy and sluggish. Each step became a new challenge to be overcome. This had been a busy day for them all.

“How much further?” Bec stopped and leaned on her knees, trying to catch her ragged breath.

Nigel leaned out into the centre of the stairs and looked up. Through countless motes of dust, he saw the top of the stairs.

“We’re nearly there. Two more flights.”

“Two more flights?” She pointed her head to the floor and coughed hard, stripping her throat with the effort. She spat whatever came up on the steps beside her. “May as well be a hundred.”

“Come on, guys. We’re right near the top. If we can just make it up there-”

“What?” Milly wiped sweat and dust from her brow with the back of her hand. “If we make it up there, what do we do? Do we magically find a door that was there all along? A door that leads to an escalator that leads all the way to the surface? Can we save ourselves, or do we just find ourselves in another terrifying and grotesque situation that leads to a painful death in the end?”

“Milly.” Nigel moved down the stairs towards her. “Milly, we’ve got to keep going. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s our only shot. We have to keep going, we just have to.”

“But why, Nigel? Why do we just have to?”

“For Anne, and Jacob, and all the other people that have died down here. We have to make sure they haven’t all died needlessly. We have to get out for everyone out there that hasn’t been affected by this. We need to get out for Bec’s son, for god’s sake.” Bec pricked up at this. “We just have to do it because it’s the right thing to do.”

Milly looked at her hands and wrung an invisible piece of paper between her fingers. Her brow furrowed and she sniffed. “Fine. We keep going. But don’t pretend like this isn’t some end of days attempt at redemption for you. Have a bit more pride in yourself and confidence in us, okay?”

He looked around at the ruins of the stairwell. This is what his life had led him to. And yeah, he was striving for redemption, but he always had been. Since the moment he watched the life leave that killer’s eyes. Those oh-so-familiar eyes. But right now, he was intent on saving the world for those who deserved to be saved. So, they would push on. He gave Milly a weak smile.

“Okay. You’re right about me.”

She folded her arms and shot him a cocked eyebrow. “Oh, I know I’m right. Let’s just go.”

They charged off up the stairs. Knowing they were so close to the top made it easier to ignore the dust and their aching, tired bodies, but it was still hard going. They made it to the top landing with their chests heaving and their legs wobbling. Nigel held up a hand and listened. With his ear pressed up against the door he could hear nothing more than his blood pounding through his head.

“I think it’s clear,” he said, “but no promises.”

“Okay then.” Bec scooped him out of the way and wrenched the door open to reveal yet another dark hall behind. She stood in the doorway and watched.

Nigel moved beside her and peered through the darkness, watching for any movement. Now that they were here, Nigel remembered the point of the exercise. He had managed to forget about the shape he had seen through the window. A shadow that had even odds of being human. It had felt like so long ago, but it can’t have been more than, what, one hour? Time had taken an odd slant of late. Once satisfied they weren’t in immediate danger, he relaxed and nodded.

Bec, not missing a beat, pushed through. Milly waited for Nigel before falling in behind. They moved down the hall, slow and quiet. The floor began to quiver beneath them. Not a tremble, but enough to be felt. He kept a constant eye out for the body he had seen, hoping for it to be human. Wishing for it to be friend, not foe. An uneven light played through the gaps under the doors down the end. The flickering of the dying reactor, no doubt. As they neared Nigel’s former office, the dark shadows of their feet bent and swayed with the playful light. It made every step seem like it came from a dozen people surrounding their every move; an illusion made all the stronger by their ragged breaths.

“Spooky,” said Milly.

“We’ve seen worse,” he replied. “At least we’re not surrounded by ghosts, right?”

He knew as he said it. He knew the moment the hopeful words left his lips that he had made a mistake. He had hardly begun to scold himself for tempting fate as the door to his office burst outward and the shadow swept towards them with an inhuman cry of terror.