Transformer

Chapter 2: Built

Even before reaching the office, I could hear, "We built this city. We built this city from Rock 'N' Roll," reverberating down the hall, and was instantly annoyed.

As I entered the room, Mitch greeted with his typical, "Hey," and brushed the doughnut crumbs from his shirt, but failed to notice the sprinkle bits woven into his beard.

"Hey, Mitch. Mind turning that down some? Could hear it all the way down the hall."

"Yeah, sure."

The music subsided as his stubby digits fumbled with a knob on the radio.

"Better?"

"Yeah," I replied, my gaze turning to the grid pattern on the monitor.

From this vantage point, we can see the feed from every camera in the facility. I know where all of them are located. And, more importantly, I know where they're not.

"Anything exciting going on?"

In his typical lethargic tone, Mitch replied, "No. Just the usual." After taking a cautious sip from a steaming cup, he continued, "Was asked to keep an out for a nurse though."

"A nurse?"

"Yeah, that new one in Oncology."

"Which one?"

"You know. She always comes in wearing that pussy hat," Mitch continued.

"Oh, yeah. What about her?"

"She hasn't been into work for a few days, and no one has heard from her."

"Huh... Well, I'll keep on the lookout. Anything else?"

"Yeah, actually. Come to think of it, Rachael from Admin was down here earlier."

"Really?" I replied, trying to mask my concern. "What'd she want?"

"It seems some things have gone missing from the supply room. Not a whole lot. Few things here and there, but the inventory is clearly off."

"So, someone's been stealing?"

"Probably not. People just gotten lazy with the log is what she's thinking, but we were asked to keep an extra eye out just in case."

"Fair enough," I breathed with a sense of relief.

The wall opposite the monitor hosted a large framed aerial view of the facility as it looked on Opening Day - 14 years earlier. In the intervening years, the lush forested lots on either side have given way to sprawling housing developments, but the wild behind the facility had survived – only intruded upon by paved hiking trails and the occasional park bench. Near the middle of the remaining greenspace, barely visible in the picture, is a small structure.

While it was by mere coincidence that I noticed it in the picture, the cabin aroused my curiosity and captured my imagination. Days later, undeterred by the overcast sky and heavy haze hanging over the dampened landscape, I set off into the woods on my lunch break. What I found was a ruin, ravaged by weather and the elements, on the brink of collapse. Of course, it wasn't what I had hoped for – what I imagined. I was just about to turn back when I heard a faint cry, and thought it emanated from within.

Progressing on cautiously into the interior (as much as anyone can call a room with a partially collapsed roof and crumbling walls an "interior"), there was a rustling and a sharp squeak from the remains of a wood-burning stove nestled in the shadows.

"Probably a squirrel, or opossum, or something," I thought aloud, drawing closer. Enveloped in a dusky twilight, and preoccupied by the creature in the stove, I failed to notice what was immediately in my path until it was too late. With one faithful step, I plunged into an abyss and plummeted to the harsh earth of the cellar below.

Pain had arrested my body. The sensation of warm blood was on my face. And it was while lying in a crumpled heap that I remembered the flashlight in my utility belt. As the minutes passed and I slowly regained my composure, I searched the space around me. Below the open hatch door was a rather unremarkable room: four cinderblock walls and a dirt floor. What was remarkable, however, was the opportunity that such a room presented me.