Chapter 19

“One thousand, seven hundred and seventy-six steps. To the second floor.”

“I’m sorry...” Holden rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How many floors are there?”

Meagan pulled a metal rod out from her bag. She looked at it mournfully before shoving it through the handle to keep the door locked from inside, and turned back to the group to explain. “The main pod of the Tower has three public floors and four mechanical and service levels. The first floor is the radome, that big balloon looking thing, where we store our Christmas decorations. The second floor is the Glass Floor level but I doubt anybody is there. The doors are too easy to bar and most importantly, there’s no food. The third floor is the main Lookout level. There’s a bar and a tiny cafe and a kitchen, so they might be holed up there. Above that is another restaurant with an even bigger kitchen, but hopefully the survivors preserved whatever food they could and kept it up there, since that kitchen has a massive padlock. Above that--”


“Right. There are windows and there’s food. Okay, upwards then?” Steve said, urging the girls forward. “I think I should go first, Meagan should be behind me to direct. Elise, you stay behind Meagan and keep a look out, and Holden should bring up the rear.” He took the first step and Meagan grabbed his arm.

“You don’t even know where you’re going. I have to be in front.”

“I know where I’m going, I’m going UP, for the next two hours.”

Meagan shook her head. “If those losers from the United Way can do it in half an hour, we can do it in twenty.”

Just beyond the door came a single giraffe wail, a signal call. Steve began pounding up the stairs. “No time to discuss; let’s get the hell out of here!”

Annoyed, Meagan followed, leaving Elise and Holden to stare at the door and listen to the giraffe. “He’s still alone...” Elise muttered, pressing her ear to the door.

“Come on!” Holden said, tugging her sleeve. But she waved him off and hissed, “Hold on a second!”

From the other side, she could hear the single giraffe, but where there should have been several others in unison to join him, there was silence. Just one lonely giraffe, with no response.

“Why do you think they’re not listening to him?” Elise said.

“Maybe he’s the Holden of the giraffe world.”

She glared at him, but he had a point. “Okay, let’s go.”


They started up the stairs, catching up to Meagan and Steve with no problem. They climbed together silently, listening for any sign of struggle or entry from the many doorways they passed. Holden wondered where the doors led to, but he knew Meagan would explain in great detail, and he was just too tired. And besides, being below Elise in the line had its advantages that he wasn’t willing to risk just to have a chat.

Soon the space became more narrow and Meagan signalled they were approaching the first floor. The door was air locked, nothing would be getting in or out. So they carried on above to the glass floor. Elise stopped when she noticed a tiny blue sign marked “L2”

“This is the sign for the glass floor?” she pointed. “How the hell do people see this and NOT keep going up all the way during those charity things?”

“Usually somebody holds this door open. It’s on a magnetic lock but that all fails without power, and it didn’t look like there was any power downstairs.” Meagan tried the handle – it was unlocked.

“Wait!” Holden said, climbing up past Elise. “At least let the guys go first. You girls stay about a floor down; that way if we need to bolt back, we won’t knock you over.”

Too tired to argue, Elise nodded and took a few steps back. Never tired enough to fight, Meagan opened her mouth, but Elise smacked her arm. “Just get down here.”

“I wasn’t going to—“

Suddenly there was a massive bang against the door. It scratched and clawed, and they all knew this was no giraffe.

“What the fuck...?” Elise raised her gun and stepped up towards the guys. Holden held out his hand, then put a finger to his lips.

From beyond the door came shouting. Two men arguing about guns, security. Then another bang against the door. Then silence.

The door opened and Steve stepped aside just in time for the flying body to miss him on its way down the stairwell. The group stared at the dead body, then slowly up to the blood-soaked man holding the door open.

“What the hell was that??” Steve demanded, grabbing the tan skinned guy by his red collar. “You just KILLED that guy!”

“He killed somebody upstairs over food. And get off me!” The accent was slight, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Even with his face caked in sweat and grim and blood, his expression of complete distain for everything still shone through, and Meagan recognized him instantly. She pushed forward through the group and wrapped her arms around the bloody stranger’s neck.

“Omar! Thank God!”