Chapter 66 - Descent through Flooding Steel
"Victoria!" I hammered on the thick glass of the sealed door, watching helplessly as the black water smashed through the corridor behind her.
Through the glass, she met my eyes one last time, mouthed the word *Run*, and then the crushing weight of the Atlantic Ocean tore the observation gallery apart, engulfing the corridor in an unstoppable fury of foam, twisted iron, and darkness.
"Elizabeth, we have to go! Now!" Miller grabbed my collar, wrenching me violently toward the spiral stairwell.
We climbed through the shivering spine of the facility, the air growing colder with every step as the HVAC systems sucked in the freezing ocean air. Leo began to scream, his terrified cries echoing off the steel risers. I pulled him tighter against my chest, whispering frantic, breathless promises that we would survive, that we were going to make it back to the sun, that his mother would kill god himself before letting anything harm him.
The metal rungs of the stairwell vibrated violently. Somewhere below, the structural supports of Sector Four were collapsing, dragging the lower levels down into the abyssal trench. But through the cacophony of groaning metal and rushing water, another sound rose from the depths beneath our feet.
A rhythmic, metallic clang.
Something was climbing the stairs behind us.
I looked down through the open grate of the spiral staircase. Thirty feet below, hauling herself up the rungs using only her upper body, was Eleanor Vance.
Her jaw was locked in a snarling grimace, her fingers bent like iron hooks as she tore into the steel steps. Half of her ribcage was exposed, the shotgun wound blackened and leaking, yet her eyes burned with an impossible, demonic energy. The unstable catalyst in her system was overriding every biological limit of the human body, turning her into an unfeeling engine of slaughter.
"She’s an abomination," Miller whispered, his knuckles white around his service weapon. He leaned over the rail, taking aim down the center of the stairwell shaft, and fired three consecutive rounds.
The bullets tore into Eleanor’s shoulder and neck, jerking her head backward with violent spasms. But she didn't fall. She let out a guttural, wet hiss that rattled the iron framework, dug her claws into the next riser, and launched herself upward with terrifying velocity.
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"Deck Two is right here!" Miller kicked open the heavy watertight hatch at the landing, pulling me through into a narrow, pressurized corridor lined with amber emergency lights.
At the far end of the hall stood the spherical silhouette of the single-burn escape pod.
