Jason Luthor - Floor 21

They know what I mean. If we try to head back up, will we make it? If we don’t, we never get the chance to tell anyone about how to break back into Polar North and what’s here. The Creep will just keep building, and nothing will change. One of the women, Baginski, steps up. “Sir, if we’re damned either way, I at least want to go out making sure my family doesn’t have to live this way anymore.”

There’s a round of agreement to that, and really, I couldn’t have said it better. “Yeah, that’s how I feel,” I say, reaching for my grenade belt. As I unclip one and hold it up, I ask them once more, “So, everyone’s with me on this?” Again they all nod, bouncing from foot to foot as if psyching themselves up. “Okay then. No regrets. Just listen up. If this situation goes to hell, we need a plan. If we get separated, stick to your training. We’ve all done solo stints in Deep Creep for situations like this. If an incident breaks out and you find yourself alone, remember, aim up. You’re all aware there has to be a stairwell access somewhere just north of here. Shoot for it. If we get separated, our primary rendezvous point is that stairwell. If you find yourself unable to make your way there, again, just aim up. If you find an elevator shaft, use it. Go as high up as you can, and for the love of God, get the hell out of Polar North.”

Cowling, a big ox of a man, steps forward. “Sir, all circumstances considered, if we find ourselves in a situation where we are separated from the group or higher ground for an extended period of time, do we have permission to eat the food we’ve scavenged?”

I can’t help but laugh. Everyone else does, too, or at least smiles. If nothing else, he’s helped relieve some of the stress that’s been building in the back of my neck. “Yes, Cowling. Permission to eat food is granted. I’m sure that Authority will be lenient once they’ve found out we’ve eliminated the Creep threat.”

“Thank you, sir!”

I wave him off and turn before they can see my smile fade. My gut’s just churning because I’ve never experienced a positive moment when we’ve tried to detonate directly on Creep. Sometimes it’ll clear the way forward, but if you’re not fast, you’ll end up in a tunnel full of it as it gets angry and grows so fast that it becomes impossible to clear your way through. With that in mind, I line up my arm with the closest Creep growth. We’re fortunate, in that the distance between us and the power core is relatively small. With a last nod and smile to everyone, I pull the pin on the explosive, arc my arm backward, and send the explosive turning in spirals through the air. For a moment it looks like it’s veering off to the right too far to do any damage to the core. Then it drifts, curving back toward the center of the room and striking hard against the surface of the Creep. It bounces like it wants to escape into the darkness, and for a second it seems as if it’s going to ricochet back toward the walkways. Then the fleshy tendrils of the Creep whip out in response to being struck, latching onto it and hauling it in. The timing is perfect, and the grenade comes soaring back toward the core, detonating within inches of its side. We all watch through our visors as pieces of steel melded with Creep burst outward into the air, splattering and banging against our body armor.

I think we’ve made a mistake.

Electrical arcs are coursing up through the body of the core, traveling up and down like dancing spider legs. They mix and engage with one another before continuing on, surging together for a few seconds before they rip a new explosion from the core.

“Chain reaction!” I scream, waving everybody off. We begin to sprint down the walkway, heading back toward the exit, when the power core lets out a deep groan. The walkway beneath me buckles, and I stumble forward, my fingers wrapping like snakes around the railing. Underneath my feet the ground falls away, and I swing forward, barely hanging on as the walkway slams to a stop. A heavy body strikes me as it flies past my shoulder, nearly dragging me down into the darkness.

I don’t have time to see who it is as they plunge into the black beneath me.

The room is starting to meld with the light of orange flames and blue electrical arcs, and I desperately try to haul myself upward, my arms straining to lift my body so I can toss my hand out and grab the next railing. I can hear the voices of some of my team, and I look up. Mike’s there, holding his hand out to me. Gunfire begins to pepper the walls as the rest of the group starts unloading, though I can’t see at what. Sucking in a deep breath, I swing my arm at Mike, my hand locking around his. His face tightens up as he strains and braces as he tries to pull me upward. As I stare into the air above him, my mouth goes slack. Through blurry vision I see the bulbous form of pink muscle and flesh crawling down the walls, an intense screeching following it as it descends from the flames that douse the surfaces above. Fleshy tendrils lash out, whipping at the team. One of them turns to fire but is slapped from the walkways, plunging off into the hellfire brewing deep beneath us. The entire chamber is now filling with orange and yellow plumes roaring upward from deep inside the Tower, while the Creep seems to rage and scream, lashing up the walls and surging to the rooftop.

With a pained groan, I give all my strength to force myself upward and onto solid ground, waving everyone forward as I do. We struggle the last few feet to the doorway, disappearing into a hallway that is suddenly emptying of Creep. I can assume why. The heat of the explosions is starting to build with enough pressure that soon it’s going to blow out the entire northern wing. With whatever energy we have left, we run madly into the maze of hallways that is Polar North, paying no attention to whatever danger there might be or even to where we’re going. All I know is we have to get away from the core. The roaring of the fire as it builds is growing so loud I can’t even hear our footsteps.

It peaks with a scream so tremendous that I feel as if my head’s going to split. I see the tongues of flames licking the walls around me and feel the heat scorching my back as I’m elevated and thrown forward, my limbs flailing in circles as I’m tossed like a toy.

Then? Darkness.

I can’t say what happened. I don’t know. Nobody else does, either. I mean, technically, yes, I know what happened. The core detonated, and the floor beneath us gave way. What I’m saying is that I don’t know how we survived.

At least, the few of us that are left.

An account of our personnel follows.

James Cowling, Floor 7.

Mike Chapman, Floor 8.

Timothy Nguyen, Floor 10.

Janet Udoka, Floor 11.

Janet Baginski, Floor 13.

Vick McGill, Floor 16, Commanding.

Whether due to the area of the Tower we’ve fallen to or due to the combination of explosion and flames, the Creep concentration here is minimal. Over the last few days, we’ve been able to make some progress upward using the elevator shafts and Maintenance access points as I do my best to lead my team out of Polar North and upward. I believe we might have fallen as far down as Floor 40. At this point the best we can do is try and find our way back home.

I hope, at least, for two things. First, that our efforts to stem the Creep succeeded.

Second, that someone, somewhere, hears this report one day.

I keep recording these partly because it’s my duty and partly because… well, it adds some measure of meaning to what’s going on here. It’s as if just the fact that there’s a record of everything we’ve done here in the Deep Creep somehow, I don’t know, as if somehow that would make it okay if we never made it back. At least there would be something of us that we’d leave behind, a record that we existed. And maybe it would let others know about things to avoid. Don’t blow up the Creep, for instance.