Post by Eldran on Dec 27, 2010 3:26:04 GMT
Mike reached the apartments a while later. The sun had climbed higher into the sky, taking on its familiar daylight hues. He peered up at the building. It truly was gigantic - whoever had built it definitely intended for a lot of people to be able to live here, should the need arise. He entered.
There seemed to be nothing that could be described as a reception area. There was simply a foyer, then the rest of the ground floor was composed of apartments. The only notable feature was a screen on the wall that seemed to display which apartments were vacant. Mike inspected it, finding that almost none of the apartments were occupied. There were stairs and an elevator to the higher floors. Mike went for the elevator: he had woken up in a dumpster, been subjected to an utterly confusing conversation with several new faces, three of whom had vanished as quickly as they had arrived, walked the streets of a mysterious city, explored a huge supermarket, and then walked to get to here. He wasn't hugely unfit, but enough was enough, at least for a little while.
He entered the elevator. Grinning at the ridiculous number of buttons on the walls -it reminded him of the Great Glass Elevator in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory-, he pushed the highest one, requiring him to reach his arm as far as he could manage, even given his height of nearly 6ft. The elevator began its ascent, which was quite fast. Even so, it was a good 30 seconds before the comfortingly familiar elevator music was interrupted by a cheery chime and the doors slid open.
Mike blinked a few times, then laughed - the elevator had gone all the way to the roof. He stepped out onto the grey concrete surface, before quickly making his way to the side of the building: he wanted a view of the city from this height. He reached the edge, safe from falling thanks to the just-over-waist-high concrete wall bordering the roof. He looked out over the city, and gasped.
It was not the relatively small size of the city that shocked him. Nor the various landmarks that dotted it: the café, the supermarket, a fairground, numerous others. Nor was it the fact that the sunlight lit up the glass of the city, turning it into a glittering, yet hollow landscape. It was what was beyond the city: A vast, featureless emptiness, a sandy-orange wasteland. Stretching beyond the horizon, no signs of life, the only movement being the clouds of dust rolling across its surface.
Panic gripped him. As a child, he had spent many sleepless nights imagining what life would be like if he survived an apocalypse, yet none of his family and friends did. This was too close for comfort to that nightmarish thought. His breath quickened, his eyes stared across the city, across the wasteland, across the dust.
He slammed his fists down on the concrete barrier, closing his eyes.
"Come on Everest," he growled to himself, "You're made of stronger stuff than this." Slowly, his breathing returned to normal, and he opened his eyes. He needed to think.
He turned his back on the haunting view of the desolate landscape, re-entering the elevator and taking it down to the second floor. He walked down the corridor, before picking an apartment at random and claiming it for himself. Paying no heed to the furnishing, he slung his guitar off his shoulder, leaning it against a wall, and lay down on the bed, kicking off his shoes. Too much stuff had happened today. He entertained the thought that this was all just a dream, and with that in mind, drifted off into a nap, hoping that when he awoke, he would be home. Home.
There seemed to be nothing that could be described as a reception area. There was simply a foyer, then the rest of the ground floor was composed of apartments. The only notable feature was a screen on the wall that seemed to display which apartments were vacant. Mike inspected it, finding that almost none of the apartments were occupied. There were stairs and an elevator to the higher floors. Mike went for the elevator: he had woken up in a dumpster, been subjected to an utterly confusing conversation with several new faces, three of whom had vanished as quickly as they had arrived, walked the streets of a mysterious city, explored a huge supermarket, and then walked to get to here. He wasn't hugely unfit, but enough was enough, at least for a little while.
He entered the elevator. Grinning at the ridiculous number of buttons on the walls -it reminded him of the Great Glass Elevator in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory-, he pushed the highest one, requiring him to reach his arm as far as he could manage, even given his height of nearly 6ft. The elevator began its ascent, which was quite fast. Even so, it was a good 30 seconds before the comfortingly familiar elevator music was interrupted by a cheery chime and the doors slid open.
Mike blinked a few times, then laughed - the elevator had gone all the way to the roof. He stepped out onto the grey concrete surface, before quickly making his way to the side of the building: he wanted a view of the city from this height. He reached the edge, safe from falling thanks to the just-over-waist-high concrete wall bordering the roof. He looked out over the city, and gasped.
It was not the relatively small size of the city that shocked him. Nor the various landmarks that dotted it: the café, the supermarket, a fairground, numerous others. Nor was it the fact that the sunlight lit up the glass of the city, turning it into a glittering, yet hollow landscape. It was what was beyond the city: A vast, featureless emptiness, a sandy-orange wasteland. Stretching beyond the horizon, no signs of life, the only movement being the clouds of dust rolling across its surface.
Panic gripped him. As a child, he had spent many sleepless nights imagining what life would be like if he survived an apocalypse, yet none of his family and friends did. This was too close for comfort to that nightmarish thought. His breath quickened, his eyes stared across the city, across the wasteland, across the dust.
He slammed his fists down on the concrete barrier, closing his eyes.
"Come on Everest," he growled to himself, "You're made of stronger stuff than this." Slowly, his breathing returned to normal, and he opened his eyes. He needed to think.
He turned his back on the haunting view of the desolate landscape, re-entering the elevator and taking it down to the second floor. He walked down the corridor, before picking an apartment at random and claiming it for himself. Paying no heed to the furnishing, he slung his guitar off his shoulder, leaning it against a wall, and lay down on the bed, kicking off his shoes. Too much stuff had happened today. He entertained the thought that this was all just a dream, and with that in mind, drifted off into a nap, hoping that when he awoke, he would be home. Home.