Lower Level 42 (Pt. 2)

Layla scoops up Rectitude in mid-flight, plucking him out of the air and cradling his shaking body in her hands. His feathers shiver softly and she could feel the warmth of the monster's blood still on his claws, drawn tight to his body in the protection of her palms. The hammer swings back down on it's lanyard and she spins back around, still holding the bird as she remembers that there were two other companions down here with her.


And then a flash of leathery brown skin flies by as she turns around and Hope is snatched away in front of her, feathers drifting down in the place where he'd just occupied. Plucked from the air as swiftly as she had grabbed Rec. “NO!”


But there's no time to think and she can feel the soft press of Valor's body against her ear as he lands on her shoulder and she puts Rectitude on the other just in time to grab the hammer's handle and swing it through the still floating gray feathers into the head of another monster, just now barreling down the pipeline towards her the very moment before its head explodes in a crimson mist.


She can't help but reach down and grab at least one of the soft white feathers from the ground where it fell and stuff it into her overall pocket before bolting down the pipeline away from the rubble, swinging her hammer as she goes and hoping that her still living companions will follow closely enough to find safety with her. “Come on guys! Home!”


As she dashes down the hallway more than one tear falls to the metal grating of the floor but Layla forces herself to focus on the here and now. There are monsters to be killed if she ever hopes to make it back to her compound. Goddamn it, how can they be this close? It's only level 42! Unless they came from one of the other nearby compounds.


A brown head, followed by two grasping claws and a withered body fall out from a grate in the roof and land in front of her, howling in rage. This monster isn't as what she's seen in the pictures, in the training films, and she knows suddenly that these Broken Ones must be fresh. “Valor, find us a way home!”

The pigeon shakes on her shoulder but quickly obeys, launching itself upward before diving straight ahead down the tunnel and cutting a hard right at the next intersection. Three more monsters lay dying before she reaches the cut off, her breath pounding with every step. I have to get back and warn the council.

Up ahead, Valor is a blur of gray wings and the tunnel seems to stretch on a ways before turning right again but it is clear of monsters. Layla can almost relax for a moment, mentally at least, while her body pumps as fast as it can down the hallway, but then she feels a tap at the back of her head and her blood goes cold. She spins around again and it's Rectitude, flapping his wings at her as another Broken One lunges towards them. A quick swipe of the hammer and he is down but not before Layla takes a deep breath of its stench, wafting towards her as its head falls only inches from her face.

She nearly falls forward and her hands automatically land on her knees, the hammer once again falling gently to her belt. Gasping for breath she crouches hoping the creatures will give her at least this moments respite while each remaining bird perches on a shoulder, facing opposite directions, like sentinels for her safety but still shaking themselves. Their soft feathers still brush gently against her her ears and it is a full minute before Layla realizes the tunnel is quiet and she is alone but for weathered brown corpses and two living birds.

“Hope!”

But it's too late, and it's better not to think of it. At least she won't have to tell her mother that she lost Valor. It would break her poor heart almost as much as losing Hope had broken hers. Still, if I don't move on, I might lose everything, and Mother would hate hearing that I'd been taken by the monsters almost as much as she'd hate to hear that Valor was gone.

Taking no chances, she works her way down the tunnels, trying to find a way back to the elevator with Valor flying before her the whole time and Rectitude bringing up the rear. He's performed admirably for a first timer and she's glad to have him by her side. Pigeons, while silent, can be so much more reliable than people.

Aside from the beating of wings and the deep breaths she can't help but take at each step, though, the tunnels are quiet until she finds the next elevator entrance, two levels up. It's been at least two hours since she saw the last Broken One when she sees the weathered sign showing “Lower Level 40, Line 72. Please Watch Your Step.” Just in time too; she's had to switch out the cartridges on her gas mask and those of the pigeons twice by now and there's only one left for hers. She'd always said before that it was silly to have to carry three back ups but now she's not so sure.

There are extra cartridges for Valor and Rectitude now, though. And with that thought tears begin to roll down her dusty cheeks as she stands before the elevator door. She holds her posture, standing strong and erect. She can handle this. It's only the dust and the cartridge beginning to go bad making her eyes water anyway. Through the sheen of tears she can see that God only knows when the last time this elevator was used. Its doors are rusty and covered in a thick layer of dust and debris. Shriveled footprints show in the grime in front of the doors and she softly pushes the button marked “up.”