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Chapter 19

  ARGHHH!!!

  The scream echoed louder and in greater multitude through the office as the barricade could be heard slowly dragging across the floor. The sound of more wood splintering, as hands clawing against metal, joined the symphony. With each cracking sound, the makeshift barrier surrendered another inch.

  Fire axe clutched in his good hand, Dante turned to the elevator doors.

  Dante put the sword down as he jammed the wedged end of the axe into the thin seam between the doors and leaned his weight against it. The metal groaned in protest.

  Everything hurts damn.

  A gap appeared, barely an inch wide. Dante adjusted his grip and pushed harder, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his broken arm. The gap widened to a hand’s width. Behind him, the sound of furniture scraping against the floor grew louder as the barricade continued to fail.

  The moment the doors were open just enough for him to squeeze through, he stopped. Dante dropped the axe momentarily to grab the Mercier sword from the floor where he’d set it down.

  He tucked it through his belt, then retrieved the axe.

  Dante wedged himself between the doors, peering into the darkness of the elevator shaft.

  No lights turned on this time.

  Well, this is creepy.

  “Aya now I need more holo lights up and down visible levels.”

  Out of his watch, two balls of light glowed going up and down the shaft, revealing a maintenance ladder running along one wall and the thick cables that would normally carry the elevator car.

  The elevator itself was stopped several floors below, leaving an open shaft above it.

  Guess someone climbed out of it and started using the ladder already.

  Dante thought as he saw a medkit discarded on the side of the running ladder nearby, with bloodied bandages and the glint of broken lenses from a pair of glasses.

  I was naive, thinking I’d have time to avoid anything using the fire escapes. I wouldn’t even have time to reach them. The windows were too high, and with my body the way it is, I might not have been able to pull myself up in time.

  He heard a loud crash from the office he had left behind and the groanings growing louder.

  Alright, break time is over, sounds like they broke through, so time to keep going.

  Dante secured the axe through a belt loop and began his climb.

  …

  Three floors of climbing left Dante sweating through his pain as his broken arm protested with every movement. More than once, he had to stop and find a ledge to rest on. Though each stop lasted no more than a handful of seconds before he continued his ascent.

  Dante counted the floor numbers on the wall until he reached the fourth floor. The elevator doors were sealed shut, their smooth metallic surface cold and unyielding.

  He shifted his weight, one foot braced on the ladder, the other carefully finding the narrow metal ledge that ran just below the doors with just barely enough room to stand.

  He took a deep breath, then drew the axe from his belt, gripping it tightly in his good hand.

  He worked once again to wedge the elevator doors open with his weight.

  The metal groaned, giving way inch by painful inch with its resistance.

  “Come on…” Dante muttered under his breath.

  With a final grunt, the axe forced a small gap. Dante paused and peered through. The emergency lights in this room were on and functioning properly. As was in the lobby below this office was clean and organized, everything seemed fine.

  Well, that's not what I was expecting.

  Dante forced the gap wider and squeezed through, the Mercier sword scraping against the metal with a sound that made him wince. He held his breath, listening for any response to the noise. Nothing.

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  He entered and looked around. Desks stood in neat rows, computers still on their surfaces, chairs properly tucked in. It was as if this floor was untouched by the events below.

  Hmm, the window is open?

  Dante noticed a window open on the side and limped to it.

  Ah, they escaped through here.

  Dante thought as he saw people still on fire escapes moving around below.

  Well, they are not my concern.

  How about the stairwell?

  He moved to check on the stairwells and saw the smashed scanners pried open its wiring ripped out.

  Looks like they didn’t want anyone coming in here.

  “Alright Sai, where is that office you hide it in,” Dante muttered.

  He moved cautiously through the office space, checking corners and doorways. Dante quickly located the office he remembered Sai telling him about.

  Why does he even have this office?

  Dante thought of the laziest employee he knew. He looked to the side and saw the garden gnome oddly standing there next to the door. Bending down, he picked up the gnome and grabbed the key underneath it.

  This feels weird.

  Using the key Dante entered the room. Blankets and pillows were arranged on the floor behind the desk. He began his search for the key he needed. Checking shelves, looking under the desk, and even inside the small refrigerator Sai had. Dante turned his head back to the arranged blankets and pillows.

  Sai…

  Dante moved a pillow from the makeshift bed, something clinked beneath it.

  The key. A small, metallic object with a distinctive chip embedded in its head—the starter for Sai’s prized motorcycle.

  …

  …

  “I don’t care enough.” Dante muttered with a sigh.

  He pocketed the key and headed back toward the elevator shaft. As he approached the forced-open doors, Dante heard the distant sounds echoed up from below.

  Time to go back down.

  Dante carefully maneuvered back into the elevator shaft, gripping the maintenance ladder with his good hand.

  The Mercier sword and fire axe knocked awkwardly against his legs with every movement.

  Floor by floor, he made his way down, passing the chaos of the office level he had escaped from. The sound of dragging feet and groans coming from the partially open elevator door. Dante ignored it and continued without stopping.

  Dante continued his descent.

  As he passed the elevator car—stuck firmly between the fifth and sixth floors—he spared it a glance.

  A dull thud echoed from within. Then another.

  He didn’t stop.

  The sound faded above him as he climbed deeper.

  The walls narrowed slightly near the bottom, guiding him toward the lowest floor.

  Eventually, he had reached the garage.

  Ok hopefully this is the last door to pry open.

  Once again, and hopefully for the last time, Dante wedged the axe and created his opening. Entering the garage.

  The garage beyond was dimly lit by the flickering glow of fire. Multiple vehicles ablaze throughout the parking area.

  The scene before him was chaotic—vehicles crashed into pillars and each other, some flipped onto their sides. Scattered among the wreckage were bodies crushed beneath broken chunks of stone or vehicles in what must have been a desperate attempt to evacuate.

  Dante pulled his sword out of its resting space and walked through. His damaged hand clicking the remote key.

  Sai’s motorcycle would be in section C, near the back wall.

  Ah, there it is.

  Dante thought as he heard a beep.

  As Dante navigated through the garage, something reflected in a car window caught his eye—movement behind him.

  Dante twisted just in time to see a figure emerging from behind a burning vehicle, a crowbar raised above their head.

  He dodged sideways as the crowbar came down, the weapon striking the concrete creating spark as the metallic clang echoed throughout the garage. The attacker was a man in torn clothing one hand bandaged up.

  I guess this is the other man who went through the shaft.

  Dante thought as he saw the man wearing glasses with a missing lens.

  The keys!” the man shouted, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Give me the damn keys!”

  Dante backed away, drawing the Mercier sword. “You don’t want to do this.”

  The man’s eyes were wild, unfocused. Blood one side of his hair, and his movements were erratic. “Need... to get out... give me the keys!”

  Dante’s eyes grew deep, his blue glare reflecting the man’s final moments as he thrusted his sword into the man’s throat. The blade pierced through the soft flesh effortlessly, the point erupting from the back of the neck in a spray of crimson blood. Before the shorter crowbar could reach him, painting Dante’s face in warm, wet splashes.

  The man’s eyes widened, meeting Dante’s darkening gaze. His mouth opened and closed, producing only wet, gurgling sounds as blood filled his airway. His free hand rose instinctively to the wound, fingers trembling as they touched the cold metal protruding from his throat.

  Dante breaths out before pulling out his sword.

  Dante wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing the blood. He then sat down, his back against the wall, the garage in wide view.

  I just need a second.

  Dante thought to himself as he laid the sword next to him, easily reachable.

  The blade, stained once more in renewed blood, glistened in the light of the fires nearby.

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