Colonel Hansen and I both rode wordlessly up the elevator, the mountain of a man’s eyes never once letting me out of sight. It almost felt like he was taunting me, even begging me, to try something. I was under no illusions that he wanted nothing more than an excuse to throw me through the glass and send me tumbling down the many stories we were ascending.

  Of course, that fails to mention how much I wanted to do the same with him. Part of me is still somewhat stunned that he allowed me to keep my sword, though I haven’t the slightest idea whether that gesture came from a place of mutual respect or avarice. “Corsac Actual– losing the sig– there?– -orsac Act–” Scars’ voice sounded off in my earpiece before it died. I quickly blipped my radio twice to indicate that it was okay before the signal itself finally quit some three seconds later – apparently Hansen has a jammer on the upper floors. I suppose that makes sense, given his rather extreme nature.

  “I gotta hand it to you, Captain – I didn’t expect you to walk in through my front door,” Hansen said through his deep, gruff voice, “I’m willing to bet that means you’re either desperate or you have a death wish. Both are poor footing for negotiations.”

  “Yet here we are,” I told him with certainty, “And I’m not interested in negotiating anything. Let’s keep it simple – you have what I want, and I have what you want.”

  “Heh, what I want…” he grinned as the elevator stopped, the door opening to reveal a floor under construction, “Presumptuous of you. I already have what I want. Now start walking.”

  Various pieces of equipment lay strewn about the place, along with a number of bags of concrete, drywall, and old wooden beams. The whole place had this sort of dry, sulfur-like smell to it, seemingly emanating from the numerous plastic tarps along the floor and walls. The construction lights provided the only immediate lighting, though a distant virtual waterfall trickled down the central shaft, bathing the entire floor in a vibrant neon blue. I imagined it was to be a floor dedicated to maybe two or three high-rolling executive suites, by the look of it. And I had no doubt that if I died here, no one would ever know a thing.

  “Welcome to the Black Sapphire,” Hansen continued, walking alongside me, “The shining crown jewel of the city, its facade hiding nothing but emptiness and filth. A fitting tribute, don’t you think?”

  “I think we should stop beating around the bush,” I demanded, “Where is Songbird?”

  Johnny suddenly appeared beside Hansen, catching me off-guard as we approached the railing leading down a full 67 stories. “V, of all the fuckin’ people you’re gonna associate with, it’s this guy?” he complained.

  “Heh, Songbird… a hot-ticket commodity, it seems,” he mulled, phasing through Johnny and leaning up against the cement stopper, “And why do you want her so badly?”

  “Does it matter?” I said with a furrowed brow, “I have my own reasons.”

  Hansen glared over the side, seemingly irritated. “Your own reasons… You have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?”

  “I have some. Professional computer hacker, member of the President’s security detail, skills on-par with some of the best in the biz–”

  “Ah. So you don’t, then,” he interjected, “You’re nothing more than Myers’ lap dog, after all. And here I thought you had the gall to think independently.”

  I recoiled a bit at his rudeness. “Sorry, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you’re poking a landmine with a stick,” his voice bellowed down the tower shaft, “You know how long it took my crew to plan this takeover? Since 2067. Hell, we’ve been in the city since 2069, hiding right under your noses the whole time. Probing you for weaknesses, turning public sentiment against Arasaka. I told you, Captain – know your enemy. And here you come in, how long have you known Songbird? One day? Two?”

  “Three, actually,” I shrugged.

  “My point exactly,” he continued, “What is it that you did after the War, working at Arasaka?”

  “Counterintelligence section chief,” I said matter-of-factly, “Formerly.”

  “Hmm. Counterintelligence… a line of work that embodies the phrase ‘persistence pays…’ yet you’re chasing a target you’ve known for three days, and wound up in a powder keg for your efforts. So here we roll back – either you have a death wish, or you’re desperate.”

  He certainly was way smarter than he lets on. At first glance, Colonel Hansen looks more like a meathead elevated to a position above his standing. But he’s remarkably eloquent and charismatic – I guess I shouldn’t really be all that surprised, though. “As are you, I’m guessing,” I retorted, “I know you shake hands with plenty of people. I’m sure even Myers may have called upon you from time to time. Why, then, would you risk it all on the capture of one girl? Sure, she’s an outstanding netrunner, but you have the Voodoo Boys in your back pocket, you’ve got connections all over the world – I mean, is she really worth burning all the bridges you’ve worked so hard to build, bringing war to your doorstep?”

  “You of all people should know that war’s been on our doorstep for years,” Hansen countered, “There is nothing the NUSA would like more than to be rid of the stubborn thorn in its side, and I’m certain that you wouldn’t be here if not for Arasaka. Being useful is one thing, being a liability is another. But being both is an impasse.”

  Johnny appeared again, sat on the side of the railing looking down at the barracks below. “Hah, easy for him to say when he spends all his time locked in a tower with his own private fuckin’ army doin’ all the heavy lifting. What is this guy, Rapunzel? Fuckin’ insufferable hypocrite.”

  “So, what, you’re saying your continued existence is an affront to the NUSA, and all this was to upset the establishment? Some sort of a… political statement, what?”

  “Hmph…” he loudly grunted, “Bold of you to come into a man’s home and insult him like that.”

  “Then why shoot down Space Force One? From what Songbird said, the ship was already going down. Unless you wanted to kill them both this whole time – wait, is Songbird–”

  “She’s alive,” Hansen quickly interrupted, “Unharmed. I can assure you of that. And no – while killing Myers would bring a smile on my face, I want something more.”

  “Something more?”

  Hansen inadvertently looked at Johnny, dissipating and leaving us alone again. “Justice.”

  “Hah! Justice?!” Johnny chimed back in, reappearing behind me this time. “No such fuckin’ thing in this town.”

  “Justice for what, for whom? Your soldiers?”

  “Heh…” the colonel grunted, “You know how many of my soldiers are left? Six. Six, out of a total of 394. Every one of the soldiers you’ve seen outside pledged their loyalty, not to the NUSA. But to me. To what we stand for, to what we hope to achieve. Is honor and justice a part of that? Sure. Is it the whole picture?… No. And I don’t owe you any explanation beyond that.”

  “I beg to differ,” I countered, “I’m willing to bet your motivations for capturing Myers are more important than those for keeping Songbird.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Simple, because I’m still alive.”

  Hansen rolled his eyes before walking directly up to me again, staring straight into my very soul. His breath felt like fire to me, tempting me to lose my cool and panic. “You know, you have a nasty habit of making assumptions like that.”

  “Mm, so do you want Myers or not, then?” I sneered back at him, “This is getting old.”

  He backed off a bit now, leaning on the railing again. “It is, isn’t it… Yes, I do want Myers. And I want Songbird. And who says I can’t have both? You?”

  “No, Myers,” I explained, “She’s willing to bring Hell to your doorstep for Songbird. And she has the resources to pull it off – she’ll capture Dogtown and use it as a staging area to start the War all over again. You know it and I know it. And neither of us will survive to see its conclusion.”

  Hansen placed his arms behind his back and paced around the room, digesting the information and thinking it over for himself, no doubt. I imagine him running scenarios in his head – defending Dogtown from the might of the NUSA, the same people who firebombed all of Sacramento to kill a single governor. “Very well. You want So Mi? Let’s go pay her a visit.”

  -

  Hansen led me back into the elevator and hit the button for the 50th floor. “She is here, right?” I asked him as I trailed behind, the door closing and the elevator launching far more quickly than I was expecting.

  “In a sense,” he said with a gruff tone, “My men found her about a hundred yards from the escape pod, holed up inside the Eventide. Apparently she saw fit to, uh, appropriate some tech that the Voodoo Boys had set up there and was piggybacking off the signal. Was easy enough to track once she came into contact with the Chimera.”

  “But…?”

  “But. by the time we found her, well, you’ll see,” he elaborated, the short elevator trip stopping almost immediately after. The door opened up to reveal a finished hallway leading to a number of suites, the red carpet contrasting pillars of white marble. “This was meant to be the ‘second rate’ suites. Construction began in 2061, by a company called Halsey, Ferris & Skiv. While it may look like a single building, it’s actually a complex of four individual towers. And every one of those towers houses redundancies – buildings within buildings. If someone intended to breach the Black Sapphire, they'd have to burn through not one, but four layers of runners and ICE. Even someone with her talents couldn’t do it.”

  “So then why do you need her?” I asked him as we walked down the intricate hallway, “It seems like you have everything you need. In quadruplicate, no less.”

  “Heh, not everything…” he menacingly teased, opening up a locked door, room 5004, “Inside.”

  I wordlessly obeyed, walking in to– what the fuck…

  H-her body… What the fuck?! “We found her like this. Passed out cold,” Hansen elaborated, “Seems like the Chimera was too much for her.”

  “What happened…?” I asked Hansen with tears in my eyes, glancing down her body – or, indeed, what was left of it. She looked more like a mech with a human’s face crudely placed upon it. Bundles of wires and decks jutted out of every gap. Air-cooled components with fans whirred with a faint whisper. Her head housed a massive core flanked by cooling fins – she wasn’t even human, not really. She was a living, breathing computer, with a human brain. A walking, talking, thinking computer…

  “Not used to seeing the fruits of Militech’s labor, I take it?” Hansen spoke grimly, “Surprising, given your rank and role. Then again, it’s not like Militech to openly share info about their secret little pet projects like Songbird here.”

  Of course Militech did this… That didn’t surprise me in the slightest. “And she’s, what, in a coma…?”

  “Last my doctors checked,” Hansen continued, “No word on when she’ll wake up. If she’ll wake up.”

  My face sunk to a deep frown. All of this was a waste of my time, it felt like… Without Songbird, what could I even do… Fuck!!

  “I suppose I should thank her for putting herself in this situation, though,” he continued, his voice returning to a normal pitch, “You probably already know it was Songbird who downed Space Force One.”

  “I had my suspicions.”

  “You know why she did it?”

  I remained silent, looking at her briefly before turning my attention back to Hansen.

  “Thought not… Myers was never too forthcoming,” he groaned with a flick of his wrist, “When she wakes up, ask her. Ask her what it feels like to crawl out of one cage and fall into another.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Hm… so I see…” I mumbled, glancing over to her. I felt like I could put some of the pieces together. Someone with a body like that… I just… I couldn’t even imagine. She must’ve been nothing but a supercomputer. Just… constantly plugged in. I’m willing to bet that she called herself Songbird because she just wanted to fly. She was after what we were all after here. A slice of freedom, an escape from the cage that is the world we live in. And now she’s nothing more than a bargaining chip. “That still doesn’t explain what you want with her, though.”

  “Hmph, looks like no one taught you the value of privacy. Let me keep it simple, then. It’s none of your fucking business.”

  “Fair enough,” I nodded meekly, “Then I guess a more appropriate question is whether you want her or Myers more. And I’m willing to bet you want Myers, otherwise you wouldn’t have even bothered with this conversation.”

  “Mm… tell me something,” Hansen said with a demanding expression, “Why is it that you’re so interested in Songbird that you’d risk it all? Clearly it’s not her looks,” he paced around the room like a wandering animal, “You didn’t know her when you walked in here. I’m willing to bet that she contacted you, not the other way around, and proposed some sort of deal. A deal you intend to collect, at any cost.”

  This man was good, I had to admit. I could see why he was so well-connected. “Mm, the question is, is that cost high enough to bargain Myers with?”

  “Indeed,” he cracked a slight smile, “Come to think of it, I’m actually rather enjoying this. Color me surprised, Captain.”

  “And I was expecting far less hospitality,” I returned politely.

  “Ohh, come on, just cut ‘im in half already so we can get the show on the road, fuck me,” Johnny muttered, “Get the bird outta her cage ‘fore she starts shitting all over this one, too.”

  “God dammit, Johnny…” I sneered in his direction.

  “Humor me,” Hansen continued, oblivious to Johnny’s snide remarks, “That fighting style you’re so famous for. What’s your secret? From one vet to another.”

  I wasn’t sure if this was a trap or not. His face was nigh-unreadable. But it’s not like I had anything to hide. “Microrotors and tensioned cables,” I explained frankly, “That’s it. That and a lot of practice.”

  “Heh, practice,” he mulled, “That and an advanced cyberdeck. Sandevistan?”

  “No, no cyberdeck,” I quickly corrected him, “I have a modified Arasaka Shadow Mark Five with no inputs, only some reflex-enhancing speedware.”

  “Interesting…” Hansen glared at me with a side-eye before turning his back to me, seemingly lost in thought. “Reflex-enhancing speedware… So you have no brain-to-cyberspace interface at all?”

  “No, sir.”

  Hansen’s face remained stoic and statuesque, like he felt nothing at all. “How much do you know about Songbird’s mission?”

  “Not a lot,” I freely admitted, “Not that it concerns me. I’m here for her, not her mission.”

  “Mm,” he shook his head with a deep growl, “You’re here for her… Well, you’ve made your deal, Captain. Allow me a counter-offer. I’ve been looking for someone with your… talents.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Call it a… test of faith,” he said with a drawn-out, somewhat menacing tone, “Or what you mercs might call a gig.”

  “You have an entire military at your disposal. What could you possibly want with me?”

  “Simple. You’re an outsider,” he said frankly, “Someone with… assets. And, more importantly, someone who knows the value of information. I’m looking for just that – information. And I’m confident that I can afford your services.”

  “Go on.”

  “Do you know the abandoned hotel on Elizabeth Kress Street?”

  My heart sank as soon as I heard him say that. “Sure, why?”

  “Mmh, I figured as much. Not many stops along the subway you took,” he said with a devious, knowing expression, “There’s a door beneath that building, buried in a maintenance room on the western end of the railway line. Go down a flight of stairs and you’ll find it. I want what’s behind that door. Give me that, and Songbird is all yours, no questions asked.”

  I furrowed my brow, perplexed with the seemingly straightforward request. “You… want me to open a door?”

  “Is that too difficult for you?”

  I don’t like this… Something’s wrong. But I needed it. “I don’t understand. What’s behind this door, anyway? Why do you need me?”

  “What does it matter? It’s information. Store it however you like, but bring it back. Should be a walk in the park for someone of your talents.”

  “No, bullshit,” I quickly shook my head, “That’s far too simple. What’s the catch? How do I even know what information it is? Is it on a computer, is it a bundle of files, punch cards, is it heavy, what?”

  Hansen slowly stopped pacing and glanced out the window into the foggy night. “What we do know is that Militech has paid dearly to retrieve it in the past. They failed. And now it sits buried in the rubble just waiting for someone to claim it. I plan on succeeding where they failed. None of my men want to approach it due to some… wild superstitions. Not to mention a certain tank that lies in those tunnels. But you had no problems dealing with any of that, did you, now?”

  Whatever this is, it must have one hell of a price tag attached that he’d be willing to give up Songbird for it. He didn’t strike me as the type in need of money or influence, though. What else could a man in his position possibly want? And why does he need me to collect it, anyway? Part of me is more intrigued than anything, even if I’m disquieted by this whole affair. “And if I refuse?” I said bluntly.

  “Then I’ll level that whole fucking hotel and everyone in it. And you’ll lose your only bargaining chip.”

  –

  “–rsac Actual, this is Corsac Two–”

  “I’m here,” I finally replied, getting off the elevator at the ground floor, “Is Intrepid still secure?”

  “To my regret, they are,” Scars moaned into the radio, “Sound asleep for the time being. Any updates?”

  “Some. I’ll explain when I get back.”

  “Aw, not even a teaser?”

  “Well, I’m alive, that’s a good start,” I chuckled half-heartedly, “We made a deal. Information in exchange for the package.”

  “Information? What kind of information?”

  “The kind with a blood trail on it, I’m guessing,” I said with a sigh, “Keep Intrepid around for now. Do you still have Kiyo's cyberdeck on your contacts?”

  “I do. Why?”

  “Good, establish a secure line to it. I don’t trust the holocall anymore. Too many unknowns.”

  “Wait, why do you have– whatever, nevermind. Connecting now.” Scars really hasn’t changed much, I see. “Got it.”

  “So what’s the plan this time, open the gates of Hell or something?” Johnny said as he walked beside me, “Sure, why the fuck not. Actually let’s stop by for a chat with the Euro prime minister as well, fuck it.”

  “We’re still alive, aren’t we? What more could you ask for?”

  “Oh come on, you don’t think it’s a little strange that this beefcake fuck has you running errands and calling it a test? Either one of two things is happening. He’s teasin’ you harder than a bachelor at a swinger party, or he’s sendin’ you into some kinda trap. Maybe both for all we know. Either way, we’re walkin’ out with no answers and no Songbird.”

  “Then it’s back to square one. Again,” I rolled my eyes, “What else is new. But hey, we made it this far.”

  “Says the woman who can’t go one week without another seizure. C’mon, you and I both know it’s borrowed time. Fuck do we need information for, just get up there and paste the scop and be done with it.”

  “And fight through 50 stories of soldiers?”

  “Sure, why not? Burn it all down. Fuck cares at this point, at least we won’t be choking on stage.”

  Johnny… Oh, Johnny. I appreciated his enthusiasm. But I wasn’t about to have us killed while trying to save our lives, what’d be the point in that? Although I did find it ironic that I’ve seemingly met several of the most influential people in the span of only a couple months. In any other lifetime such an occurrence might seem strange. But something about what Hansen said resonated with me – I wasn’t entirely sure if I was steering this anymore. I felt more like a helpless passenger, a slave to the world unfolding around me. It’s like I was bouncing from one earth-shattering event to the next.

  Something was coming – I just wish I felt like I was even slightly in control. Instead, all I felt was a looming sense of dread and hopelessness.

  At least they were courteous enough not to touch my car. I took one last glance out of the corner of my eye, noting the many mouths speaking in hushed tones as I walked past. I guess they were just as surprised that I left here as I was. Hopefully this is the last stop, though.

  After everything I’ve been through, opening a door felt laughably mundane. One thing did strike me as odd, though – why didn’t anyone pursue Myers and I through those tunnels? What’s got Hansen and his men so scared that they wouldn’t follow the NUSA President? I’d have figured that at least someone would’ve been behind us, but no. We took our time, let our wounds heal, and traveled at a walking pace – and no one followed us. Either everyone in here was an idiot, they’re superstitious to the point of lunacy, or I’m missing something.

  –

  I rode the elevator back down with a noticeable pit in my stomach, thumbing Kiyo’s old cyberdeck strapped to my waist. If it was good enough for her, it’s good enough for me; she’s the most capable hacker I know, and it has plenty of redundancies built in to prevent any sort of tracking. “You have me?” I asked Scars through the receiver.

  “Loud and clear – now do you wanna tell me what all this is about?”

  “Hansen sent me to recover information behind some sort of door. I presume it’s a bunch of files or data of some kind – either way, the data for the prize.”

  “Wait, hang on. He’s trading you some files behind a locked door for the VIP? Excuse me?” she lashed out, “That hardly seems like a fair trade. What the hell else is there, another Panzer?”

  “Who knows. All I know is that he wants it and can’t get it himself for whatever reason.”

  “Does Hansen strike you as the sorta guy who accepts defeat?” Scars sharply retaliated, “Something stinks here, Sarge.”

  “No shit,” I replied gruffly, coming off the elevator to the unfinished station, “But what else can I do? I need Songbird or I’m dead. Simple as that. You know this already.”

  “Yeah, yeah…”

  “Look, just keep Intrepid safe. I’ll contact you once I figure this out, okay?”

  “Sarge?” Scars said with a surprising amount of worry, “Be careful. You’re desperate, not stupid.”

  “I will.” I switched off the receiver and keyed in twice to indicate I was alright.

  The place was as eerily quiet as the first time, as if the whole station was simply frozen in a single moment. Why wasn’t anyone down here, anyway? Hansen or otherwise. I know that one guy mentioned it was haunted, but by what, exactly? Hmph, I better have a look around…

  “Man, what a shithole,” Johnny murmured, appearing on one of the beds to my left, “Dirty needles, piss in booze bottles, food that’d give you strep throat just by inhaling its vapor… Fuck, feels like the average concert to me.”

  “Yeah, and it has everything… except one thing,” I thought out-loud as I looked around the abandoned station, “Bodies. Look. The entire place isn’t just abandoned. It’s clean. No blood, no weapons, no bullet holes… nothing.”

  “Mm… yeah,” Johnny thought out-loud, “Maybe they were forced out?”

  “Not likely. There’s no signs of any struggle… It’s like they just disappeared. Look – nothing’s out of place. They even left a book half-read with the pages still open. Valuables were left behind, too – water, food, clothing… What happened here…”

  “What was it that guy said? Somethin’ about a bunch of brain aneurysms?” Johnny asked me rhetorically, “Even so, I’d expect there to be something. You’re right – something’s off. Stay on your toes, V.”

  “I plan on it.”

  I passed by multiple rooms littered with garbage, wrappers, old detritus – everything but bodies. There wasn’t even a single holotape. After sifting through old wrappers for five minutes, I finally decided to proceed further down. I just couldn’t believe that there was nothing here. This entire scenario felt eerily similar to somewhere back home… I could only pray that whatever was happening here wasn’t that bad…

  “Hear that?” Johnny chimed in again, “Listen… nothin’. Not even scurrying roaches. Nothing’s disturbed by us rummaging around all this trash. You’d think that we’d have come across even that by now.”

  I couldn’t help but notice it now… “Is this whole place dead…?”

  “What’ve we gotten ourselves into this time… Fuck…” he groaned.

  “I have no idea… And that scares me…” I sighed apprehensively, checking Kiyo’s cyberdeck for any readings. “Nothing on the scans, either. Place has electricity, but apart from the lights, doesn’t seem like anything has any power.” Interesting… And here I thought it was gonna be the Voodoo Boys or something. They like their dark corners. Not to mention the whole ‘train station’ thing they had going on during our last encounter. But no… There wasn’t a single trace of anything on the main frequencies. Alright, well, let’s shut it down, keep whomever from tracing us, just in case…

  “What’re you thinking?” Johnny asked me, “Fuck kinda info is down here, anyway? And how would we even know what door it is?”

  “He said it was on the western side…” I replied, listening to the echoes of the distant drafts… Sounds like howling, like I’m inside a cave during a great sandstorm, with how little other noise is present. My footsteps felt like they could cause earthquakes with every step, the metallic thuds of my steel-lined boots overpowering my sensitive hearing. I swear I could even hear my very heartbeat down here.

  The concrete floor gave way to gravel, looks like spillage left over from the construction. No footprints or anything that I could see… Western wall… Alright, that’s probably through the other side of that hole in the divider, then.

  Part of me wonders what might’ve been, had this station become operational. Would the Maglev system truly have revolutionized transportation, or just become another means to exploit the working class? Monetizing travel to the extent they already do, I could only imagine a single megacorp holding a monopoly on fast, easily-accessible, nationwide travel like this. At least I own my own car. I don’t own the train network.

  But enough of that… back to the matter at hand. Look for anything out of place, no matter how small…

  “What’re we searchin’ for, anyway? Place’s been deserted since the fuckin’ Stone Age.”

  “That’s what the problem is,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I looked around, “Not one part out of place. It’s almost like it’s in suspended animation, like not a single living soul has gone down here. Which simply isn’t true… Look, even our footprints have been erased. Someone was here.”

  “Hmm… Weird…” Johnny conceded, “Think it was the soldiers, tryin’ to cover their tracks?”

  “What would be the point? They would never expect us to come down here.”

  “I dunno… We did find some other shit they left behind. Dataterms, uniforms and whatnot…”

  “Yeah, and no soldiers. Not a trace. Just their belongings – hell, even their weapons. What would just leave all that behind…”

  “Maybe it’s a storage space?”

  “No, it seems too random…” I continued, climbing through the hole to the other set of tracks, “Hm. More of the same.”

  “Looks like some old railway cars, too. Maybe a shelter in there?”

  “Maybe…” I glanced around the place… Looks like this one was also under construction. Both ends terminated in piles of rubble, lit by sporadic emergency and utility lighting. Nothing too out of the ordinary, except maybe the odd puddle… Water? No… No, it had a smell to it. It wasn’t blood, either…

  “What’re you thinkin’?”

  “Look… On the ground,” I motioned to some rocks, “See how there’s a few stones right there with moisture on the top? Means that they were in the fluid at some point. They were moved. Rotated.”

  “Could’ve been the tremors from the Chimera battle,” he observed.

  “Nah, doubt it… We’re too far away.” I carefully leaned down to inspect the dirt for any patterns… I could make out the faintest of striations. Footprints…? Let’s see… Should be a corresponding one… there. Leading deeper into the tunnel. “Found it…”

  “What?”

  “A pair of footprints… Looks like a Militech issued boot. Check out the pattern of the sipes. See the thickness?” I traced around them with my finger, “Desert warfare boots. Someone was here…”

  “Someone is probably still here…” Johnny continued, focusing his eyes further down, “If those’re the only footprints, then whatever was cleanin’ up the place didn’t have time to wipe those ones up, too.”

  “Mm, you’re right…” I nodded, “And for some reason, I don’t think we should stick around to find out whatever the hell it is.” I looked up and audibly swallowed as I peered down the hallway, bathed in deep crimson red. “Looks like they continue down there.”

  “Oh, you’re not seriously gonna follow ‘em, are you?”

  “We don’t have a choice, Johnny. Or did you forget that little fact?” I objected, “Look, either we go down there or we’ll have to face the music with Hansen. And something tells me he’d smell bullshit if we came back empty-handed.”

  “Sure, but I mean come on, how fuckin’ bizarre is this?” Johnny asked me with a panicked voice, “Hansen has us runnin’ down his dream, which by the way, how the fuck does he even know about this place? Clearly someone’s either fed ‘im information, or enough people have died to know that somethin’s down here. And I betcha we’re nothin’ more than the next cannon fodder in line.”

  “Mm, I don’t like it either,” I sighed in pensive agreement, “But we have to do it.”

  Jackie… Lend me a hand here. I have a horrible feeling about this…