Together, they pushed cautiously; the heavy metal door opened from the middle, the screech of the hinges echoing through the silence. They stepped side by side into a large room with high ceilings lost in shadows, a wave of humid air hitting Kara in the face. She had the sense of something vast and open and hesitated to move. The floor was slick with dirt and dust. A putrid scent of rusted metal, stagnant water, and stale oil hit her all at once, but it was the ghost of burnt rubber in the thick air that made her cough.
Cautious, she tested the floor in front of her. It was solid, hard concrete. As her eyes adjusted to the faint natural light that seemed to come in from a football field away, she realized that this room wasn’t just any space—it overlooked a vast factory floor. High, cracked windows almost black with grime offered a fractured view of the machinery below. The factory floor seemed like a scene from an apocalyptic movie. Rows of enormous machines with gears frozen in place, conveyor belts motionless. Massive presses, grinders, and turbines that once hummed with power now stood cold and abandoned. Huge metal pipes snaked across the ceiling. Rows of unlit industrial lighting hung from beamsin the ceiling that was at least three, maybe four stories high. Many of the lighting units were broken, and one tilted precariously on a single chain.
“Can we get down there?” she whispered. She didn’t know why she was whispering; they were alone. She cleared her throat, looked around the room they stood in.
“Maybe,” Matt said. He, too, took a tentative step. “This might be the control room, or maybe where management monitored the factory.”
The room’s large windows that once provided a view of the floor were mostly broken. As she moved, her feet crunched on shattered glass. There were a couple of desks, one that looked ready to use, and two that had broken legs and missing drawers. Two chairs had been pushed into the far corner. A long, wide counter along one wall with cabinet doors, most closed, and one hanging at an odd angle.
“There’s a catwalk,” Kara said, feeling a hint of optimism for the first time since waking up in the elevator.
The walkway was suspended over the factory floor. The thick beams of metal and rusting scaffolding made it look like it might crumble under the slightest weight, but it appeared intact.
Together, they approached the edge and looked down, realizing what had happened.
The factory floor was covered with water. Based on the size of the machines, at least a foot of water filled the space. That explained the dank, humid air. The machines themselves didn’t appear ancient, and Kara wondered when the factory had shut down—and why no one had cleaned up the space.
“After what happened on the stairs, I’m not sure we can trust the catwalk,” Matt said.
“It might be our only way out,” Kara said. “I’m not eager to test it, but we may not have a choice.”
At least they now knew what was downstairs, which was abig plus in her book. Kara could handle known threats; it was the unknown that scared her.
A bank of old monitors and computers lined the wall opposite the cabinets. Most of the screens were broken or cracked, but there appeared to be a dull static coming from several of them. It was a security setup, with dozens of monitors that, when operational, would show the factory floor from different angles.
Surprised, she motioned to the computers. “Are the monitors on?” If there was electricity, maybe they could reach someone outside this death trap. Though just because there was electricity, didn’t mean that there was internet.
Matt studied the computers quizzically. “I heard a generator earlier, but a lone generator wouldn’t be able to power a building this size indefinitely. So the power could be selective—but why would these monitors be hooked up instead of lights?”
“Why did someone set up a generator at all after the building was flooded?” Kara asked.
“Possibly to pump out the water,” Matt said. He walked to the monitors. One flickered and Kara jumped.
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said, “but this is very creepy.”
She slowly walked around the room, their near misses still making her nervous. Movement in the corner caught her eye. She stared at the ceiling, saw nothing at first, then a red light blinked on.
Then off again.
“Matt, there’s a camera in the corner.”
Matt followed her gaze and then walked right over to it and looked up, inspecting.
Suddenly, static crackled in speakers near the bank of monitors.
“Well, hello!” a cheerful voice echoed.
At first Kara thought someone had walked in behind them. She whirled around, looking for the threat and searching for a weapon at the same time.
No one was there. The voice came through speakers attached to the monitors, tinny and almost unreal.
“You were fast,” the voice—a woman, Kara was certain—said. She didn’t sound angry; in fact, she sounded downright giddy. “I knew you were smart, but I’m smarter. Still, we’re not quite ready for you, so you’ll need to hold tight awhile longer.”
A loud clank, followed by a screech, and then the metal doors slammed shut.
Matt ran over to the doors, Kara right on his heels, but there were no handles on this side.
Kara kicked the door; her toe throbbed.
