The Disparate One

The amber in the middle of the pile of ash twinkled like a star in the night sky. Ray stared at it ever since the flame died. He was flat on the ground, facing the source of the warmth, but now, he was embraced by cold and darkness. Looking past the amber, he saw the robot’s green glow, looking over the railings. He held both his hands. His rifle stood next to him.

Ray slowly raised himself, the helmet was still nearby, in the same place where he left it. The layers of magazines beneath him rubbed against the floor making a scratch that made Nite look at him.

“We better start going before you get hungry or thirsty,” said Nite straight up, turning and grabbing his rifle, swinging it around his back.

Ray didn’t say anything because he was already hungry and thirsty, he just didn’t want to admit it, figuring it would make Nite angry for dragging a weakling. After Ray retrieved his helmet, he followed the robot to a shop, behind the counter where they passed a door, and onto a hallway built for transporting goods.

At the end of the hall were large, dead elevators and a staircase. They headed up. And up. And up. They continued to do so even when Ray began to gasp for air, Nite didn’t bother to stop or slow down. It was quite unfair for Ray. He squinted when his knees and feet started protesting. His left hand did all the work, clinging onto the railings and dragging himself up the stairs.

“Just a few more steps,” said the robot, marching a few flights ahead of Ray.

“You said that an hour ago!” Ray rolled his eyes with a loud sigh.

Nite secretly hid his smirk despite hearing the sounds of defeat from below. Arriving at the top of the staircase, he turned his rifle into a battering ram and slammed it against the metal door, its bolts and locks popped off, falling into the open space of endless abyss on the other side.

Ray was crawling up the steps when he reached Nite’s feet. He could somehow feel a slight breeze from the opening. His arms and legs were shaking when he got on all fours, coughing and wheezing. A puddle of sweat formed beneath him.

“We still have a long way to go, makes me wonder why you wear that uniform,” said Nite, staring through kilometers of empty space between the terminal and the lowest part of the facility.

The sounds of the door reaching the bottom finally came a few minutes later. Even with that spare time, Ray still hadn’t recovered.

Ray’s vision was hazy as if he was staring at television without a signal. He was lightheaded. His heart was punching out of his chest. All of his organs were blaming him for the sudden hardcore marathon. Nite stood still and remained calm, yet disappointed to see how pale Ray had gotten in a short amount of time.

Ray sat and leaned against the wall as he stared at the opening, seeing the impossible distance to the main structure of the facility. He slightly looked up to the numerous large guide rails and steel cables stretched to their limits above. It was where the terminal connected.

“Yes,” Nite said, leaning against the opposite wall, using the rifle as a cane, “The only way to get to the facility is those,” his eyes pointed at the guide rails.

It made sense because it was the only visible path that bridged the terminal to the facility. Ray couldn’t imagine both of them balancing their ways across it.

“Don’t worry, those things won’t give in on us, otherwise this terminal would’ve fallen to the abyss a long time ago,” said Nite, staring at Ray who looked dying.

Nite also told him that there used to be a safe way between two places, but sadly, during the rebellion, they blew it up.

“Take your time, it’s not like someone’s life is already at stake, or everyone,” he added.

When Ray regained some of his energy, Nite stepped onto the remaining platform on the other side of the door and jumped straight up where his hands clung onto the top. He hoisted himself up, carefully not hitting his head on the rails before flattening himself on the terminal’s roof. He poked his head below to Ray who was slowly regaining colors. Though, it disappeared when he saw the bottomless drop.

“You won’t die if you don’t think about it,” said Nite, which did not help at all. Nite lowered his hand and pointed at the helmet.

Ray hesitated at first, but he knew he had no choice. He transferred the device to Nite’s grasp who safely brought it to the top with him. His head and hand returned.

“Your turn,” said the robot.

Ray shook his head with fear. His knees shook when he gripped Nite’s hand and stepped onto the creaking platform. Nite safely lifted him without any struggle. Ray sighed with relief and was glad he trusted him, that was until he banged his head onto the rails above.

“Oh, be careful about that,” said Nite.

“Thank you,” said Ray sarcastically, rubbing his head. Nite only grinned.

Countless dead engines sat on the spacious roof, scattered around, all had one purpose. To turn the wheels and gears connected to the guide rails. All of which were covered in thick dust.

Nite stepped towards one of the large rails where he clasped his hands together, fingers interlocked. He stood directly under a group of steel wheels. He looked at Ray, nodding at him to the top. Ray knew what he meant. He had to reach for the rails above near the wheels with Nite’s boost. He refused, scared of hitting his head again.

“Well… I highly doubt you can give me a boost,” said Nite, hands on his waist. His half-ear erected.

Ray gave the helmet to Nite’s responsibilities before grabbing his shoulders and placing his left foot into his palms.

“On 3. 1… 2….”

“Wait!” Ray remembered something.

Nite furrowed when Ray switched feet, now his right foot was in his palms. Ray nodded at him.

“On 3,” Nite paused, “1… 2… 3!”

Ray was shot up into the air and his hands easily grabbed onto the rails without ever hitting his head on the structures above. A smile grew on his face when he looked down at Nite who was somehow giving a look of approval, like a general to a soldier.

Ray was about to bring himself up when they both heard a loud bang followed by deep, ear-vibrating hums. Ray and Nite looked at each other when the entire terminal jolted. Nite scanned the roof when the engines coughed back to life. Smoke spewed out of their exhausts when they roared. A second later, fear filled Nite’s eyes. And Ray saw it instantly.

“Get off!” shouted Nite when the steel cables wobbled.

The lights throughout the inside of the terminal switched on. The engines roared louder, sending power to the shafts connected to the gears and wheels that were now ever so slightly turning. Their surfaces, dried from years without oil, scratched against one another, producing high-pitched screams to Ray’s ears.

Inches away from getting crushed by the wheels, his fingers finally let go. Nite scurried over below and caught Ray in his arms.

Nite looked around, seeing each gear, big or small, turn. He had never seen anything like this before except decades ago during the end of the rebellion when they moved the terminal away from the facility. This only meant one thing.

His eyes locked onto the shimmer of the facility as they began to inch towards it.

“You alright?” Nite shouted through the roaring engines.

Ray had both ears covered. He nodded.

Ray and Nite moved away from the motors, Ray grabbed the helmet and hugged it, he awaited further instructions from the robot. Unlike Nite, Ray had no idea what had just happened. Though, both expected the terminal to be completely dead. Nite was sure about it. He witnessed them cut the wires. The only wire attached to it was the steel cables that act as a pulley.

Nite swung his rifle to his front and looked through its scope, he aimed at the end of the rails where he could see groups of guards marching towards the large bridge where the terminal would soon connect.

“We need to hide,” said Nite, keeping his eyes on the large structure, growing bigger every second.

They managed to find a spot behind one of the whirring engines. Both made sure to not make contact with it. Both had their heads out.

The engines kept on roaring as the wheels turned faster. It only took a couple of minutes for the entire terminal to travel back to the facility. With a few meters left in between, the engines and wheels began to calm down. Seconds later, the terminal shook again as if an earthquake occurred.

The engines died and the wheels ground to a halt. The voices of guards echoed when they crossed the bridge and arrived at the cafeteria, passing the skeleton peacefully in its seat. They flooded the terminal, busting through every door and shop.

Nite crawled to the edge of the roof, pulling a tiny mirror built onto the end of the rifle. He carefully slid the barrel away from the roof until the bridge appeared in the mirror. Nite was shocked to realize that the shaking earlier was caused by the bridge penetrating the terminal’s outer shell. Strangely, the bridge was also empty.

At first glance, the bridge appeared to be a great candidate for them to get to the facility. But Nite knew better.

He returned to one of the guide rails, rifle swung back to his back, and hands clasped. Ray wanted to ask about their situation, but he assumed they had no time for it. He also didn’t need any explanation as to why Nite clasped his hands again. He handed the helmet back to him before being boosted up where he grabbed the rails. His heart wished these wheels wouldn’t move.

Once Ray hoisted himself to the rails, Nite threw the helmet up and he caught it. Ray watched in awe as Nite did some parkour around the area. He climbed up the gears, swung from cables to cables, and jumped from the wheels to the rails, landing next to Ray who was eager to give applause.

The width of the rails was wide enough, like a catwalk. A slippery one. Nite was at the front when they slowly started walking across above the bridge. So far, no one hadn’t caught them. Not literally, but Nite knew Ray was caught. He didn’t know how but he was confident because otherwise what was the point of sending guards into an abandoned terminal that was detached years ago.

At the end of the rails was a service area. They jumped off the rails and finally, they were officially back in the facility.

“Stay close”, said Nite when he gently opened the door to a staircase. They agreed to not take the elevators as it could easily be a trap.

They walked up the stairs with Nite’s rifle drawn. They stopped on a platform where Nite opened the door to a hall. Its wall, ceiling, and floor were made out of pipes. Most of them rusted all around.

Ray read the texts painted on each pipe and an arrow that pointed to the direction where they were heading.

Water, Sewage, Carbon, Oxygen, Ray looked over Nite’s shoulder when they got to the end of the hall. A sign fixed above the door read “Air and Water Treatment Section”.

Upon opening the door, Ray’s nostrils burned from the spoiled smell. He pinched it, which resulted in a debate whether he should breathe through his nose or mouth.

They walked along the catwalk over numerous intersecting pipes. Some were leaking and hissing like snakes. A few were releasing jets of stream. The temperature here was noticeably warmer and humid. It felt like they walked into a rainforest.

After the pipes were huge sloshing tumblers filled with liquid wastes. The source of the stench. Someone should really consider putting a lid over them.

Pushing through the smell, next to the tumblers were enormous pumps and more tanks. The air was moving here. It brought relief to Ray who could breathe through his nose again. His ears were about to blow from the loud whirring noises of the pumps when they walked by it.

After another long series of walks, which was another marathon to Ray, they ended up in another staircase, this time it only went up. The paints on the walls and railings were falling off. The lights on each platform flickered.

As expected, Nite was a few steps ahead of Ray who was panting like a dog and moving at a snail’s pace. His legs began to shake again and his arms dragged him up the stairs. He wanted to stop before he could trip and stumble back, slowing their progress, as if it wasn’t already slow enough.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to cover the entire staircase. Nite stopped on the platform and looked at Ray who dropped to the ground, waving his hands like white flags. Nite crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to the door that had a sign glued to it, “Alarm will trigger if opened.”

Ray curled on the floor as he breathed like he would consume all of the oxygen in the staircase. His pale state returned. Despite all these, it didn’t change Nite’s look at him. In fact, it somehow made it worse.

“Stay here,” ordered Nite, standing the rifle next to Ray when he walked up the stairs, leaving without any explanation.

Ray lifted his hand and tried to mouth “sorry” and “wait”. He wasn’t prepared for an extreme endurance test. Nite didn’t return after a few minutes. Ray figured Nite decided to do all things by himself without a dead weight. It could be the reason why Nite left him with his rifle. To defend himself. Or worse. To finish himself off.

“One bullet. It only takes one.”

The feeling of regret, burden and every possible negative thing in the world all squeezed inside him. He had failed everyone. Soothsayer. Oxford. Literally everyone. Despite his blurry and watery vision, his hands were able to search for the rifle. When he grabbed it, he pointed it to himself and did what Nite did on their first meeting.

He shoved the barrel into his mouth and slid his finger on the trigger.