J. Mitchell - The Severed Tower

She grabbed the edge of the sink and pulled herself up until she was looking down into the grimy basin. She dropped the artifact inside and reached for the handle. If there was no water, then they were—

The faucet shook and groaned—and then dumped out a stream of blackish liquid.

The Amplifier flashed and water erupted from the basin like a volcano, surging powerfully into the air.

The pipes under the sink burst apart as the liquid was amplified by a factor of around a thousand. Mira was ripped off her feet and blown backward as the closet flooded in seconds.

The chill of it made her gasp, refocusing her dimming mind, and she heard Ravan do the same, as they were flung violently into the hallway, carried in a tidal wave of amplified murk that thrust them forward.

They burst into the control room. Ravan slammed into the reinforced windows, pinned there by the current. Mira was almost shot through the door into the launch tube, but she managed to grab on to the frame and hold on.

Ravan tried to push off the windows, but the wall of water was too strong.

“Grab my hand!” Mira shouted, reaching for Ravan. The pirate reached back, but the distance was too much. “Push toward me!”

Ravan groaned as she slowly slid across the windows, the water pressing into her. She reached Mira’s hand. Mira pulled Ravan loose. Together they flew into the huge launch tube, rolling end over end.

Mira broke the surface of the frothing water, gulped air. Ravan appeared next to her, doing the same.

Because the tube had so much more area to fill, the water level was rising slower. Underneath them, the rest of the facility was already submerged. They watched as the door to the control room disappeared. Slowly the two girls began to rise up, following the curving body of the giant missile toward the door in the ceiling.

They could see the still-sparking junction box in the corner, and Ravan started paddling to put herself directly under it. From her belt she removed a pair of long-nose pliers.

“We only get one shot at this before we’re underwater,” Ravan yelled. “What about those things? They gone, or are they in here with us?”

Mira shook her head. “I have no idea.” It was true, she didn’t. She’d never heard what water did to Void Walkers, probably because no one had ever flooded a missile silo to find out. Above them the light peeking through the crack of the giant door was growing brighter. They had light. That was something.

“If I were you, I’d stay on the far side of the tube,” Ravan announced. “Water and high-voltage electricity don’t mix very well.”

If the water kept rising they’d be pushed up to the box in moments—which also meant they would quickly be pushed into the ceiling. When that happened there would be nowhere else to go. Their air would be gone.

Mira swam to the opposite end from Ravan. It was difficult to stay in one spot, with the water churning. She watched the nose of the giant missile sink and disappear. There was only about ten feet of air left between them and the thick door now.

The water carried Ravan high enough to reach the junction box, and she yanked it open, staring inside. More sparks exploded into the air, and Ravan grimaced. “It’s stripped wires!” Ravan shouted.

“Is that good or bad?” Mira yelled back.

Ravan ignored her, just rammed her hands inside the box as more sparks blew out, then yelled in pain and yanked back. “Dammit!”

“Can you fix it?” Mira yelled desperately. The current was becoming impossible to swim against, not just because it was growing stronger, but because Mira was growing weaker. The chill of the water had given her some of her senses back, but she could feel her mind going numb again.

Ravan kept twisting and turning things inside the box.

Then, above, came the groaning of the massive door as its hydraulics reactivated. A speck of daylight shot in from a crack near the center of the room. Mira yelled for joy—and then cringed as the sound died and the door stopped. More sparks shot from the box, and Ravan stared at her.

“I can get it working, but I have to hold the connection,” Ravan shouted. “The cables are falling apart.”

Mira stared back. “I don’t understand! What does that mean?”

Ravan looked at Mira, as if thinking things through. Then, with a scowl, she reached back into the box with one hand. The door started opening again, groaning horribly as its massive hinges jerked to life for the first time in decades.

But this time, Mira just stared at Ravan, the girl’s hand holding the cables together. The first silky strands of the top of the flood seeped into the junction box as the door continued to open, allowing light to burst in.

“Ravan—” Mira said.

The junction box exploded in a massive, violent torrent of sparks that blew in every direction. Ravan screamed, then disappeared behind a wall of smoke.

The huge door stopped again, but it stayed open this time. Daylight flooded in through a crack in the center large enough for her to slip through. But Mira didn’t notice. Her eyes were glued to where Ravan used to be. Now there was just the churning water.

“Ravan!” Mira yelled, but she was gone, and there was nothing Mira could do.

Mira felt her head smack into the ceiling. Her air was running out fast. She should get out, start crawling through the hole made by the rusted door, but she didn’t.

Ravan had held the wires, even though she knew she would be electrocuted, and she had done it to help Mira escape.

In the back of her mind Mira heard Ben’s words. To survive here, you have to think only of yourself. It was logical, Mira knew, it made sense—but there was something about owing her life to Ravan that bugged her. Something about living with the idea of the pirate’s sacrifice that steeled Mira’s conviction to a place far beyond the safety of the burning daylight above.

“Damn it.” Mira took a deep breath—and dived downward.

The current was strong below. She had to swim against it, and it wasn’t easy. Her flashlight shined ahead of her as she did. The hulking shape of the giant missile appeared from the murk, and Mira slipped around it. Her best chance of finding Ravan was on the other side.

The water was becoming darker, and her flashlight provided less and less help, but she kept diving down, looking for any sign of—

Shapes wavered in the current, blacker than the shadows around them. Humanoid and deformed and reaching for her with impossibly long fingers.

They vanished when she looked at them.

More appeared in the corners of her vision, disappearing when she turned, only to reappear in her periphery, coming closer.

Mira kicked away frantically, backed through the water, watching the hideous things disappear and reform just out of sight, closer, closer…

Something hit her from behind. She let loose a distorted, underwater scream.

Mira spun—and saw an unconscious Ravan floating near the wall.

Mira dropped the flashlight and grabbed the girl, didn’t waste time, kicked for the surface as hard as she could. The darkness grew brighter, the daylight coming closer. Mira’s lungs were burning, spots of darkness appeared in her vision. She should have reached the top by—

Mira slammed into something hard and almost dropped Ravan. She’d reached the ceiling, there was no more air.

Her lungs were on fire and her vision grew black. Mira frantically swam under the huge door, feeling for an escape, pulling Ravan with her. It had to be here, it was here before. If she could just…

Mira found a gap, and through the gap, she felt the chill of air on her wet hand.

She shoved herself upward, holding on to Ravan. She felt hands grab her shoulders, lift her. Her head burst through the water and the harsh afternoon sun stung her eyes.