Chapter 44: The Lobby

As we made our way down the elevator shaft, I heard the occasional scratches on the doors. Rung by metal rung we descended. Vision limited to the dusty black shaft, my hearing caught the worker ant’s tapping on the doors every now and again. I wanted to ask Marci why she thought they were doing that but thought it best if we remained as quiet as possible, for they could hear better than us. I hoped they didn’t know we were in here, yet their tapping suggested otherwise.

At the first floor, the team moved into position, Fred and Ave on the sides, and Dylan at the back wall, all guns aimed into the lobby, me on the left, Marci on the right, about to open the doors, Bent on the ladder to the right, watching, each little slip and scrape we made to get into position sounding so loud to me, my mind screaming warnings the ants we were coming.

I looked at Marci, counted to three on my fingers, and we pulled the doors open.

All of the creatures, most little ones, but big ones here and there, froze at the sound of the doors sliding. The little ones were in two lines. Those entering the hotel empty-handed and those going out carrying chunks of flesh, clothing, various materials important to them like bits of fluff, cans, curtains, and so on. The big ones were scattered between the lines as if overseeing them.

It was like time restarted when as one they flinched and charged the elevators.

Fred let out a roar, bullets flying out of his gun one by one as fast as he could pull the trigger. Dylan went full auto, spraying into the center of the room and Ave was more careful, picking off the larger ones. Little heads red-misted, bodies fell over, their raging friends soon climbing over the growing mound of their dead fellows to rush at us.

“Reloading!” shouted Dylan, his empty clip falling down into the shaft.

Mouths open, teeth bared, claws out, little ant-people rushed at us, we shot them as fast as we could. The ring of bodies around the elevator began to move toward us – bigger ants pushing from behind! More of the smaller ones hiding behind their fellows, shielding themselves from our bullets and getting closer and closer. They’d soon all be on us at once.

“What the hell?!” shouted Ave, shooting into the bodies. “Watch out!”

“Reloading!” said Fred.

Pushed into the shaft, the bodies began to fall while the living ants leapt toward us.

One grabbed onto Fred’s leg, locked its jaw onto his armor, its sharp teeth tearing through the leather. “Oh shit!” He kicked it off and jumped up, taking hold of the metal support above the doors, just as more were reaching for him.

They swarmed over the dead bodies, from the sides of the elevator, the ceiling, into the shaft, mouths open, teeth ready to tear us apart. I shot and shot and they dropped and dropped, but more and more crawled in. They blanketed the entrance and if they got past our kill zone, spread out any further, we wouldn’t be able to safely shoot.

Sharp pain in my left leg as one clamped its jaws around my calf. I grabbed a metal support beam and kicked it off, pulled myself up higher, and took aim on the incoming creatures.

“Going up!” said Ave, lifting herself above the elevator doors and the influx of ants, forcing Marci to back up, reaching for new supports to stand on.

“Hey!”

“Climb up here!” I yelled, shooting the ants going for Marci.

She pulled herself up, left arm around a metal beam, pointed her Skorpion into the mass and let loose.

From the mound of bodies filling half the doors, the ants gained purchase to leap at us, more and more pouring into our positions, crawling along the walls, some jumping straight across to the other side.

Dylan cocked his gun, sliding a bullet into the chamber just as two ants grabbed onto his legs, one gripping his harm, all immediately biting, their teeth raking and screeching against his plate mail armor. He pointed his gun at one on his arm, pulled the trigger and it released on full auto, pushing the barrel up. Sparks leapt into the air, bullets ricocheting around the shaft, Dylen yelled, then fell into the darkness.

“Dylan!” screamed Bent, sheets of flame jetted out from his hand at the elevator doors. Blackened ants curled up, oily grey smoke rising off their burnt carapaces like a million bugs were cooked all at once. Bent started down the ladder as fast as he could go.

I pushed at the door, trying to force it to close, but it was blocked by the bodies. “Fred, I can’t close it!”

“I’m trying to get leverage!” Swinging over the mass, holding on with one arm, he aimed down, shooting as they rushed in, sending their corpses down the shaft.

“Dylan’s down there! They’ll fall on him!” Reaching out, I took hold of Fred’s belt, quick pull to get his attention, “Help me shut the doors!”

Ave switched her gun to her left hand, began shooting past the mass of bodies, into the large ones at the back. A little one grabbed onto her legs and she put the barrel to its head, a single shot rang out, blood spattering against the wall before it, too, fell. Another bit into her lower leg and she smashed it with the gun. It dropped. More ran toward her and she fired away.

I let go of his belt as Fred got a hold of something above, then lifted himself up the shaft, exactly the wrong way to help with the doors. Standing on support beams, steadying himself with his left hand, he had no angle to shoot.

“Fred! What are you doing?”

Claws curled around the door, then a triangular head swiveled around, mouth open, it leapt at me. I smashed its face with the butt of my gun, and the little guy went down the shaft.

“Marci! We have to close the doors!” I pushed harder, but more claws grabbed on, some on the top, crawling in.

Fred kicked at these, sending them down the shaft. Ave reloaded, then shot every ant on her side.

I yelled, “Guys, we’re sending the bodies down on Dylan and Bent!”

“Time to clear a space!” Fred swung down from the support beam and into the lobby morass, smashing into a couple unlucky ones, pulling out his sword and swinging.

Smile on the side of her face, submachine gun hanging from her shoulder, Ave said, “Fuck this gun pussy shit!” and jumped into the lobby with both hammers out. She savagely kicked bodies back into the lobby while smashing little ants back into the air over and over.

With each arc of Fred’s sword, he cut down four or five of the little beasts, and he was clearing out a semicircle, but more and more were pouring in and some were already climbing the walls to drop from the ceiling.

I jumped in, taking shot after shot at the ones out of the barbarians’ reach, trying to slow the attack on my teammates. Marci joined me and we stood side by side, hot copper casings crashing against the floor at our feet.

Big ones raced into the lobby from the outside, with more and more of the little ones rushing in around them, on every surface, wall, ceiling, floor.

“Reloading!”

“River, we can’t keep this up!”

I switched to full auto and sprayed ants on the walls near the elevator. “Fred, Ave, back to the shaft! Marci, get down the ladder!”

She emptied her clip on the ones crawling on the ceiling, then rushed into the shaft.

A little ant dropped toward Ave from above, and she hit it like a baseball, the creature spraying blood as it flew through the air. More leapt at her and they all became splatters against their fellows.

I jumped into the shaft, onto the ladder, yelled, “Guys! Get out of there!” From the ladder, I moved to the opposite side of the shaft, holding onto supports. Too heavy, too much kick for me to handle in one hand, I let the submachine gun hang by its strap and took out my pistol, aimed carefully, and gave supporting fire.

Bashing ants in a wide circle, Ave kicked fresh bodies around her back into the lobby. Fred was just beyond, keeping more of them from reaching her. Two of the large ones charged him.

As Ave got the last of the bodies cleared, the doors began to slide shut and she stepped backward into them, holding them open with her heel.

Ants ran at her from the other side, and I shot at each one of them.

“Fred, get in here!” she shouted.

Just as a big one barreled into Fred, he took it by the neck, squished it flat, then threw it into a bunch of little ones. The next one came in fast, and Fred punched right through its head, then shook the body off. “I love these bracers!” He turned and ran, pushing open the door on his side.

Ave leapt for the ladder, hands on the sides, sliding down.

Fred pulled the double doors shut. Claws grabbed at the doors, ants got in between them, and he kicked the ants away, but ever more took their place. Roaring, Fred slammed the doors shut as hard as he could, crushing their little arms, the sound of metal banging throughout the shaft. “River! Tie it shut!”

I sheathed my gun, crouched under his legs and took the Elvish rope off my pack.

Curved claws poked in between the doors, pushing them apart and widening the gap. Fred roared, squeezing the doors shut. Sweat dripping off his green skin, he yelled, “Hurry!”

Doubling the rope, I wrapped it through metal beams on the door, pulled it taught, knotting it up over and over. As soon as Fred let go, it stretched, cracks opening up in the door.

“Let’s go!” I said, using the same tactic as Ave, pushed my sleeves over my hands to prevent chaffing, took the ladder from the outside and slid down.

Passing the basement floor, I gripped harder, pressed my shoes against the ladder to slow and then stop my decent. A flashlight illuminated Dylan, lying prone up against a wall, ant bodies all around, Bent beside him and Marci against the other wall.

“Is he ok?” I yelled more than asked.

“He fell two stories, what do you think?” Bent snapped back.

“We gotta get out of here, Bent. Help me get him up.”

“There’s too many falling bodies!”

“River,” said Marci, pulling me by the arm, “hug the wall or one of those will hit you.”

I let her pull me aside, then said, “The doors are closed, no more should be falling in. But they’ll breach that soon. We can’t stay here! Did you give him your pot?”

“Yes!” Bent took a deep breath. “I think it stabilized him. But he’s not conscious.”

Fred slid down the ladder next, much faster than I’d gone, smashing into ant bodies, his knees bending to take the pressure, and stood up. “Wow. That was crazy. I think I killed more with the sword than the gun.”

Banging rang out from above.

Looking from the Fred to me, Marci asked, “How are we going to move him?”

“I left my rope up there.” Thinking of his incredible strength, I asked, “Fred, can you carry him?”

“For sure.” Fred checked Dylan over, touching the breast plate, then his neck, saying, “His spine is ok? No neck injuries?”

Bent looked up from his kneeling position by Dylan, “I can’t tell for sure, but he did drink a pot. His arm stopped bleeding. He probably got whiplash from the fall, maybe a concussion, but I think his armor cushioned him.”

“I’ll be careful.” Fred picked Dylan up, put him over his shoulder, and said, “Can you guys open the doors above?”

“On it.” I climbed up, Ave following behind, and we got to the basement level. The bottom was lower, I guess, to give the elevator space. Right now, for some reason, I couldn’t remember what the space was called.

She and I pulled the doors open. At that moment, a tearing sound echoed down the shaft, the sound of metal scraping on metal, and I knew the ants had broken the rope, breaching the doors. If we didn’t get out of here, we’d be overwhelmed.

“Fred! Guys! Get up here now!”