It’s becoming overly apparent that I like to torture myself.
Also, yeah, I’m coming up on Floor 2, so I’m getting antsy. It won’t be much longer before I find out if there’s a way to climb even higher.
Recording Twenty-Six
I crawl over Reception Hall and stare down. It’s funny seeing it empty, from the air, like I’m some flying invisible god. Receiver Garry’s still in there. I can see him moving back and forth once in a while, putting things away. He’s muttering as he does this, so I stop to listen to him as he talks. I’ve never thought of him as crazy, but I don’t think talking to yourself is a great sign.
I recognize the first part of what he’s saying, though.
“On Firsts Day, the Builders erected the Tower. At that time the world was covered in Darkness, and the Tower rose from the depths of the Creep.
“And the Builders said, ‘We must be a light.’ And the light of the Tower became a beacon in the Darkness.”
Chapter 1, Line 1, The Book of the Tower.
We all have to recite it every Sevenths Day. It’s kind of a reminder that the reason we’re supposed to be on our best behavior isn’t just, like, to survive. Receiver Garry always says that if we’re not a light in the Darkness, the ones that were taken away, into the skies, won’t come back for us.
That’s pretty crapsack of them if you ask me. What sort of plan is that?
Speaking of which, why did we get left behind in the first place?
Anyway, I’m not surprised as Garry goes onto the second line. “On Seconds Day, the Builders said, ‘We must be separate from the Darkness,’ and the gardens of the Tower were separated from the Creep to give life to all those that would follow.”
So, yeah, thanks, Builders. I really appreciate the fact that we were left to survive in a tower filled by the Creep. But, hey, at least we’ve got the garden. I mean, no reason to try and take us with you or anything. Obviously I prefer eating black tainted vegetables to getting out of here.
Although, now that I think about it, they never mention whether the Builders stayed behind or left with everyone else.
I’m going to bet they left. Jerks.
Whatever. Garry stops reciting and kinda does this thing where he looks around, like he’s nervous. At first I think he might have noticed me, but the vent I’m in is pretty high. So high that I’m kinda scared it’ll break and dump me onto the ground. I mean, getting caught would suck, but I’m pretty sure I’d bust a few bones if I fell from this far up.
Anyway, I watch as Garry glances around. Then he looks up, right at me, and I freeze. I swear he must be able to see me, but it has to be too dark in the vent. A second later he glances away before tumbling onto his knees.
Then he begins to cry.
I can’t tell what’s going on at first. Really, I think he’s laughing. Then his voice slows down, and his shoulders begin to shake. Garry buries his face in his hands and leans over, until his head’s touching the ground, like he’s begging for mercy. Then he just starts to wail. I can feel the hairs on the back on my neck dancing as his crying gets louder, like it’s vibrating inside the walls of the vent.
It gets inside my skin, and I just feel… I don’t know, man, like I’m all in my feels. Then he stops crying for a moment and starts to talk again.
“In those days the Children of Men will be taken, snatched up from the Darkness. They will be taken out of Darkness and into the Light.”
Yeah. That’s another basic line we all learn, too. It’s one of the most important ones. If we didn’t think we had a chance of leaving the Tower, life would suck more than it already does. Thing is, Receiver Garry doesn’t stop there.
“The Children of Men will go down into the Darkness. They will not return. They will stumble at the temple. They will vanish into the night. In that day, all the light of the Tower will be snuffed out.”
I stare at him for a long time and watch as he slowly peels himself off the floor. He’s looking like a ripe tomato, and I can see the front of his shirt is stained from all the tears. It would be pathetic if it wasn’t so depressing. I can’t help wonder if Garry is normally like this when nobody else is around, or if he’s just a crying mess today of all days. Because if he’s normally like this whenever he’s not putting on a show, then that doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in me.
About that last line he quoted. It’s called a Hellverse. Something about The Book of the Tower is that it’s got contradicting information. Some parts say that one day we’ll get out of here. Others say we’ll get consumed by the Darkness.
I guess I know which one Garry believes. Problem is, I don’t know if it’s because he’s usually like this, or if it’s because something’s been going on recently.
I really don’t want to believe that it’s because of what’s been going on recently.
Recording Twenty-Seven
I would like to say I quickly found out that it takes a while to get to Floor 1, but pretty much the opposite is true. When you use the stairwell, it seems pretty quick, but that’s because they go straight up the tower. The vents don’t really do the same thing. After going past Reception Hall, I ended up circling back before the vents started to slope upward. The thing about using these to get around is that it’s exhausting. I’m sure most people haven’t had to crawl around a lot since they were babies, so most people don’t realize you get real tired real quick. Like, so tired you want to pass out. The only thing that keeps you going sometimes is the fact that you’re, you know, freaking stuck in a vent. It’s claustrophobic and you can’t get comfortable. Sometimes I even start to feel my chest burn and my breath get short.
Once you’ve gotten control of yourself and start to go up, it’s like pulling yourself up a hill. It never gets easier, so you’ve got long minutes where you’re just pouring sweat. You could squeeze my shirt a few times and fill up a bucket. You’re thinking I’m exaggerating, but, swear to God, I can feel myself sliding back down the shaft every time I stop moving. It’s like I’ve been soaking myself in butter or something. You could pitch me down a hallway, and I wouldn’t come to a stop, that’s how much I’ve sweat today.
It’s at least an hour after I see Receiver Garry before I make any real progress. I’m getting so tired of crawling by that point that I really just want to go to sleep, but I know I have to be back on my floor before nighttime. Reception’s been over for a while, and even though my mom is used to me wandering off, I really don’t want to make her too suspicious, especially with how whacko she is currently. That’s going to be hard considering I currently look as if I’ve taken a jump into a swimming pool. I mean, I can’t see myself, but I know that I look like yesterday’s diapers.
For the first time since I’ve started trying to climb up to the top floor, I hit an obstacle, but at least it’s nothing that a screwdriver can’t handle. There are grates inside the vents as I move upward, but my biggest worry is being heard from outside. At this point I’m kind of crawling blind, though. I don’t know where I am, only that I’ve been moving up and up and up. So I’ve got to be close to the goal. I kinda wonder if there’d been a way to do this from the rooftop, but the only thing like a vent that I’ve seen up there are the narrow water filters. I’m skinny, but not a chicken bone.
My fingers struggle with the screwdriver while my other hand holds the flashlight. Normally I like to think I have a light touch, but today I can barely manage to do two things at once. Part of the problem is my hands are so moist I keep dropping the screwdriver. Every time it hits the floor of the vent, this really deep clang seems to scream into the darkness. How nobody can hear my ruckus by this point is a mystery. Anyway, it takes a minute, but I’m finally able to undo the screws and crawl on. To nobody’s surprise, I nearly let the grate slam downward. Shoot me, but for whatever reason, I’m not thinking straight. At least I catch it before it hits the ground. I might be able to get away with dropping the screwdriver, but there’s no way I’d get away with this little adventure if I made any louder noises. I’m already making an echoing thud every time I move. You can practically hear it singing in the distance. Still, at least the only noise is me. I can’t hear anything else, so wherever I am, there doesn’t seem to be anybody else outside my narrow crawling space.