I opened my eyes to blinding white light. I blinked until I could make out the dark, cylindrical barrel of the gun within it. Just a few days ago, I had wondered how often awe and fascination would be the emotion that rendered me speechless when staring down a gun muzzle. This proved to be the second time as I realized I had survived my fall. The same uncertainty and intrigue came over me as the black tunnel swamped my vision. Strangely, fear was nowhere in proximity.

"You tried to kill me." Ralph's voice emerged from behind the light. "I should put a hole in your face."

"Why would you do that?" Pain traveled my lower back and ribs, but I dismissed it to force my lips to curve into a grin. "I thought we had already called it even."

"Connor?" Tamara yelled from above, where another light was positioned on the underside of the lift. "Don't hurt him, you assholes."

"I don't know what the fuck is really going on." Ralph's gas mask muffled his words. "But as far as I know, you got away. Just don't do nothing stupid like firing on us when we leave."

"Sounds like a deal." I nodded, smiling so wide it hurt my cheeks. Leave it to Ralph to put his gas mask back on as if nothing I'd said had penetrated his thick skull. At least he knew better than to go back down to Randolph without it on.

"Now we're even." He backed up, keeping his light on me until he was behind the wall and no longer in sight.

I sat up and searched the cold floor with my hands until I found my handgun. I'd survived a gunshot, a fall, and the realization that everything I'd known to be true most of my life was nothing more than an enormous lie fabricated by Randolph himself. Like Tamara said, I definitely had a purpose. The desire to make all the pain we'd endured worth something came over me. Once on my feet, I placed the gun in the holster and a foot on the first rung.

A tickle in my ear stopped me in my tracks. The earbud was still snug within my canal, and the message coming through made my hair stand on end.

"This is Dr. Randolph. I need everyone clear of Ten. Just got word that the explosives have been successfully placed. For the safety of the residence, we have fifteen minutes to clear the area. I repeat. Stay clear of Ten. We're are going to detonate in fifteen minutes."

I peered behind me into the darkness, and beyond the hole in the wall to where the occasional red light glowed. A gloominess swamped me, replacing any pain or euphoric feeling of invincibility I had. I tried to recognize anything within or past the blackness to no avail, but for a second it crossed my mind that if Randolph was successful in his mission, I would forever sense the gloom that came from the darkness. Ironic how since impact darkness shaped me, and it would be the only constant in my life for the rest of my life, eternally, regardless of if Randolph succeeded.

Blindly, I climbed the wooden ladder, making my way up the rungs as fast as my hands and feet would allow. "Tamara?"

"Connor." The excitement in her voice lifted my worry, at least for a second, as I pushed forward and upward. "You're close. I can hear it. You're almost here."

At the last rung, I stretched my arm out toward the edge of the platform and met her fingertips with mine. With a firm grip, she pulled me onto it and then yanked the rope. In no time, we were ascending toward the light.

"I need to get to Control." I slumped forward to catch my breath.

"That was a long fall." The way she said it revealed her concern.

"I'll be fine."

"You sure?" The doubt in her words caught me off guard. "Did you get injured? What about your wound?"

"We don't have time to worry about me and my injuries." I lengthened my spine, demanding my body to resist the signs of exertion. "We have less than fifteen minutes to keep them from detonating that explosive or a lot of people will get injured or worse. And if they collapse Ten, it can't hold the debris from Eleven and Twelve. Just look at all this." I gestured ahead as we traveled past the floors of concrete and warped steel beams.

The light from above caught on the white flecks of human bones, reminding me of all that had been lost and what they had endured before their demise. We needed to make their deaths worth something, and I was more than prepared with a new plan.

Once at the top of the hole, Em kneeled over the edge with her hand extended. Tamara exited first and they helped me up and over. Some of the fighters stood by with weapons in hand, and I waved them over, signaling them to follow.

"Your wound's bleeding." Em's voice carried concern as she trailed behind me down the hall toward the lift. "What happened down there? We heard gunshots."

"I'm fine." I shooed her away. "Just gotta get to the lift."

"What's the plan?" She rushed to keep up.

She would disagree with what I was about to do. There was no doubt she would try to prevent me from doing what I knew needed to be done. It was now or never. "I don't have the time."

"Connor, we're in this together." She put her hand on my shoulder, bringing me to a sudden halt. "What's going on?"

I pivoted to face her. "They're going to detonate another explosive in less than ten minutes."

"What in the cat's ass is wrong with that man?" She shook her head. "We need to stop them somehow."

"I'm working on it." I continued down the dimly lit hall.

When I turned the darkened corner, my shoulder smacked into someone. I stumbled and tried to regain my balance. Then I noticed Natasha, carrying Baby Malcom in her frail little arms.

Em threw her palms up, visibly upset. "What are you doing down here?"

Natasha hushed the whining child as she bounced him in his arms. "I can't stand being up here anymore. I'm ready to go down. I'm ready for the light, and water, and the food-"

Em sighed. "Natasha, honey, it's still too dangerous to go down-" She looked to me and Tamara. "Shame that this is what has become of the prize-winning physicist."

"We got to move." I continued toward the lift and pressed the call button. The whimpers and cries that came from Baby Malcom reminded me of the urgency. I pushed the button harder, and after a few agonizing seconds of no activity, it registered that the call button wasn't glowing, indicating the lack of power being received. I growled. "Everyone get up the stairs. We need to move. Now."

The baby's cries echoed throughout the empty hall until Tamara took action. "Here, Natasha. I'll take the baby. You follow us upstairs."

"But we been up here long enough," she protested. "I can't stay up here any longer."

Tamara put her arms out to collect the baby. "It's okay. I'll keep him safe. Promise. Connor, I'll take her up to Eighteen. Do what you have to do."

With that, I entered the stairway, skipping every other step toward Fifteen. And with each step, the sound of each second tick, tick, ticking away played in my head. It wasn't until I exited the stairway that I realized a pair of footsteps had followed. I turned just as Em emerged. Between hasty breaths, she spoke. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to connect to the lower hemi."

"That's your plan?" her voice raised an octave with her surprise. "You can't do that."

"But I am." I turned to proceed down the hall.

"If you do, you'll have the blood of Dr. Smith and all our allies on your hands. You prepared for that?"

I continued down the corridor. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Do you hear yourself?" She followed closely on my heels.

"There's no other choice. This is our last resort." I grimaced, realizing I sounded a lot like Randolph.

"I'm sure there are other things we can do." Speaking of Randolph, her words sounded like my earlier pleas to him.

"Like what? We don't have time to plan anything." Time was the only thing we didn't have.

"I let you call the shots about the lift and you see what a disaster that was."

I glared over my shoulder at her accusation. "Disaster? Opening the lift saved us time and helped to clear the stairway faster."

"And crowded the lift, and jammed the signal, and-"

"We don't have time for this." I rushed to the control room and hit my fist against the door. "Open up."

"Who is it?" An unfamiliar male voice called from the other side.

"It's Connor. Hurry. We're up against the clock."

"What's going on out there? Did Em give you permission?"

I turned to see her standing behind me with her arms crossed. "She's with me as we speak. Open up or this place is going to blow."

"What were you two arguing about?" The man asked.

I knocked again. "Would you please open the door?"

Silence permeated the space except for the constant tick, tick, tick in my head.

I turned to her. "Em, we need to get inside. Now." Didn't she understand the risk?

She didn't budge. "We need to think of a new plan."

"Trust me on this one." I pressed my palms together, pleading. "Can you trust me? Please?"

She huffed. "You're highly intelligent, Connor. Help me figure out another way-"

"Vince!" I called through the door. "You in there?"

Vince's voice rose on the other side, "Open the goddamn door, man."

Em gripped my forearm. "I can't put our allies in harm's way. I made a promise to them."

I yanked my arm from her grip. "While they're safe and sound down there, sleeping with visions of plump little tomatoes dancing in their heads, you're up here suffering day to day with your promises. Now let me in."

She shook her head. "There's got to be another way."

Commotion on the other side of the door grabbed my attention. Sounds of a struggle, the bang of furniture, the smack of body blows, and the grunts of physical exertion.

"Vince?" I kicked the door and it remained still in the doorjamb. "Vince?!" I stepped back to gain momentum and threw my body against the door to no avail. It didn't budge. Then the noise subsided, another second ticked by, and the door cracked open. I squeezed inside and slid it closed behind me as Em rushed forward to stop me. The sound of the lock engaging was all I needed to take a satisfying breath.

Finally, I was able to soak in the rugged image of Vince as he rested against the wall next to me, chest heaving, hair disheveled, face bright red. Em's orders and her banging on the door drowned out in the background as my attention settled on the man at my feet who'd borne the brunt of Vince's wrath. He lay on the floor as a broken chair and mangled crutch teetered on his back with every breath.

I squeezed Vince's arm to show my appreciation for his help as we struggled to catch our breaths. The lights of the panel sucked me in as I rushed to it. I scrolled through the commands until I found what I was looking for. Private connection between the upper and lower control rooms.

"What's happening out there?" Vince limped until he was next to me. We both ignored Em's anger-filled cries.

"Ten will meet the fate of Eleven and Twelve if I don't connect with the lower hemi." I looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to try and stop me or to deliver the words that would.

Instead he dipped his head. "I trust you. Let's do it."

I pressed the button. The rapid ding of a bell sounded through the concealed speakers in the room. I expected them to pick up quickly, but the bell continued to chime an unnerving and excruciatingly long time. My stomach ached, my heartbeat tripled, and I paced back and forth to try and alleviate the painful feeling of doom.

Tick, tick, tick.

Vince's palm slammed down on the edge of the panel. "Why aren't they picking up?"

My eyes darted to the clock as I expected the rude quake of explosives. "Time's running out." Any second and the blow of discharge would shake the facility.

Vince bit his fingernail and tapped his other hand against his thigh as he stared at the symbol of a bell while it jingled back and forth, signifying the ringing that chimed through the room. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The room door behind us opened and Em rushed in. "End it. Now."

I turned to meet her. "How did you-?"

"My fingerprints might be damaged by chemical burns, but every now and then, they can open a lock." She rushed toward the panel.

My arms latched around her waist and I tugged her back to prevent her from nearing the screen. We struggled as the ding, ding, ding continued.

"Stop fighting." I interlaced my fingers to get a proper hold and tugged.

She pulled at each digit, trying to pry them apart. Vince guarded the panel with his body, arms outstretched like a member of a sport's team trying to prevent a ball from passing.

"You have to end the call before it's too late, Connor." Her voice shook with pain and what might have been fear.

"Stop it, Mom. Please, stop," I begged.

She stopped struggling and twisted in my arms to meet my eyes. "You called me mom."

I nodded.

The ding, ding, ding was cut short by a mysterious voice that boomed through the speakers. "This is Control. Identify yourself."

~~~

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