Terminal (Terminal trilogy #1)

2: Deeper down

"Should I be fearing for my life right now?" Blake glanced behind him, as he had been doing in regular intervals for the last ten minutes. "Just give me a warning when it comes time. I've been practicing my screaming."

"I'm hoping Phillip's going to throw something at us, but it looks like we're in the clear." My voice was not suited to growling or grumbling, but I did my best. "And Kell probably won't do a thing either. This whole revenge schtick is going to be harder than I thought."

"You could just not do it," Blake said testily.

"Sure," I said playfully, like I was actually considering his suggestion.

I noticed Blake shoot me an upset look out of the corner of my eye, but he kept quiet. Unfortunately, he didn't seem very intimidated by me or anything in Hell, but he still was being polite in case I dumped him with the same spontaneity that I had picked him up.

To be careful, and sort of to spite him, I had decided not to take the easy route by elevator back up to Greed. Running parallel to the elevator bays was a single long hall at an incline, honestly worse than a staircase. I always felt like I needed hiking boots when walking it or else I might fall backwards.

Like Greed, the level of quality greatly varied in this hallway, sometimes it was lined with walls and lights and other times it'd just be a dark and dirty passage held up by ancient wood. Hell was definitely not a well thought-out place, but that statement carried a lot of bizarre connotations. Just who out there had set expectations for Hell's architecture anyway?

The general feel for Greed, especially, was that someone had thrown a couple of doors onto the walls, slammed a few tiles onto the dirt floor, and called it a day.

My plan to pointlessly ail Blake with needless exercise was failing, as it had slipped my mind how truly weak I was. My legs ached by the time we reached Greed, I could feel myself sweating, and I had long been out of breath. They really needed to install air conditioning in this place.

Blake, meanwhile, looked as chipper as always, though apparently nearly as worn out. We had been nearly alone our entire ascent, for the good reason that is that hallway sucked. Who would willingly walk it when there were sweet, glorious elevators waiting?

"What exactly is the plan?" Blake asked, "Mind you, I'm talking about the bad one. Not the smart one that is immediately leaving."

"You can stay in my dorm room while I deal with Kell."

"Dorm room? What, are you a college student?"

"Dormitory. Collection of private rooms to stay in. I live there."

"Oh! So your work gives you a house?"

"A room. And meals. And that's all I need to live, so that's all I get."

"I'd like to make a quip like 'sounds like prison' or 'that seems sort of illegal, actually' but honestly? We're in Hell. Not too surprised by anything at this point."

Navigating Greed was a terrible game to play, reminiscent of... I don't know. Wandering a hedge maze with no dead ends? Stumbling around an airplane hanger blind and tipsy? I really only knew for certain a few places and the exit.

My dorm was essentially a hole in the wall, like one of those fancy hotels built into caves but without any of the upkeep and amenities. It was a door built into the rock and a series of carved windows in case you wanted to watch the occasional straggler pass by.

My actual room was not much bigger than my bed, and even that was built into the wall. I had a government-issued television on top of a mini fridge. My literary collection of four books was on top of the television, amassing dust.