Between the two highest peaks of the Hull’s walls, a generation before the Exodus had built a cable lift across the skyline, ‘The Pride’. The vehicle itself could welcome more than thirty passengers but served very little practical use, linking the two opposite highest points of the upper stratum. It had been built as a symbol, its meaning shifting over time. Now it was renowned as the best view in Last Kunlun, spanning above most of the wall you could view the entire upper stratum of the Hull and most of the city as you rode it, though few outsiders of the Hull would be motivated enough to delve into its maze for a sightseeing ride.
Most importantly, the Pride stood as the Hull’s own flag, and its well-being became intrinsically crucial to the ones of all who lived below it. It had needed a recurrent amount of repairs over the decades, checking for anomalies after torrential rain was a courtesy.
Clay and three others rode in silence, maintenance now done with. The lift was fine, as it often was. They had checked the main gears and its connection to Volantis canals but aside from turning it into a makeshift pool by holding rainwater in its hold, the rains hadn’t injured their Pride. The Sun had risen, reflecting over the last of the rain drops that hung from the Pride’s metal shell. Soon it would all have evaporated, giving way to a few days of unpleasant humidity.
“Sure am glad I have this view, let’s enjoy it for the poor souls pumping down below,” Clay sighed, to the respectful mutters of agreement of the others.
The next Torrents would be his time to go drain the Hull’s lower habitable levels. The lowest excavated ones, affectionately called “Black Lake”, were perpetually flooded, never fit for living, but they still had to prevent the dark waters from rising to the upper levels. It had once risen so high it flowed through the Grande Gate, making for a loud scandal. Clay would struggle in the mire, cursing ever having taken on the task, endlessly pumping the stale tide until the smell of rust seeped into his bones. In truth, there was nobody to force them, the Hull would’ve rotted from the inside centuries ago if anyone had waited for a boot over their head to force them into taking care of their home. Clay figured the other districts functioned the same way, even at their laziest. Hold onto what remains, even now.
The cable lift rocked as it reached its destination, the western point, overlooking Yama. They were so far from the ground you’d always feel a chill in the air. Beyond Yama, to the sud-west, he could see all of the Minnow Gardens, behind the station in Freeway. It’d been years since he last ventured outside the Hull, unlike his neighbor who spent all of their time loitering on the other side of the Grande Gate with no particular purpose.
Clay exchanged firm handshakes with his partners in mechanical knowledge, whom he never met outside of the occasional maintenance, and headed back home. So many stairs, so many slopes, but he felt good. His hands were sore and his knees felt weak but he had a warm shower and bed waiting for him, the prospect guided his way.
Nearing his destination, he spied a couch laid vertically on its side, expertly blocking the entrance to an apartment complex. Clay felt truly thankful to live on the other side of the street, being victim of a stunt like this would have ruined his day.
He made his way inside and saw that water had washed over the floor, barely enough to notice but the tiles were shiny and spotless. He doubted anyone in the building suddenly found it in themselves to clean up after themselves. Clay heard a holler from an open door to his left, this one spent all of their days sitting and watching people come and go. Clay had banished their name from his mind and usually ignored all attempts at communication but he couldn’t turn himself deaf.
“Clay! Elevator’s busted, floor 5 was complaining, it’s stuck on yours.”
He closed his eyes to let the raw misery wash over him. He bit his tongue hard enough to prevent him from talking back and headed towards the stairs.
“I know you heard me! Better get to it!”
Clay didn’t entertain a voiced answer, even if colorful and inspired words crossed his mind, managing anything he could do to salvage the rest of his day. He had to be the last remaining peach heart of the building who could work with machines and airways. On good days, he reveled in being the only individual holding complex U40 afloat, his diligence of an environment in pristine working order stronger than his contempt for most of his neighbors. On bad days, he preferred not speaking and not being spoken to.
He made his way to the third floor, every step feeling like perdition. All of the doors were closed including his, he could see the small monitor above the elevator agreeing with the annoying self assigned clerk. Clay sighed and got to opening the doors on his own. Myrrish people were rarely taller than humans but were gifted with stronger body weight, making his attempt at prying the two folding doors open possible, even if it was still an exercise he would rather have avoided.
Clay held onto the left door, digging his fingers deep in the depression and anchoring himself as far left as he could, flexing his already sore arms to pry them open. The doors gave in, sending him backwards a few steps towards the stairs, he huffed and shook his hands.
A thin stream of dark liquid slithered out of the elevator, freezing Clay in place. If the elevator had somehow gotten damaged by Black Lake’s water in their part of the stratum then everything might be fucked for good. He rushed over to check the interior stopped dead in his tracks. Cradled into the corner of the small elevator was a darkened figure, hugging their legs close to their chest. The invasive smell of iron caught up to his nostrils.
“Fuuuck…” Clay whispered, almost choking in the process.
For instants that felt like hours he couldn’t make himself blink, the sight was harrowing but the fear in his mind quickly shifted. The figure was barely moving, its chest slowly rising in a stuttered motion.
Regaining some of his senses, Clay walked backwards to the door closest to the elevator that wasn’t his own and banged on it repeatedly. The door opened wide after a few seconds, letting way to an irritated tall human.
“Tenor, elevator,” Clay mumbled, not waiting for his neighbor to voice a comment.
Tenor’s still maintained an annoyed look but he obliged, heading to the spot he had left moments prior. Clay wondered if he noticed the blood on the floor. He slowly walked back behind Tenor. The figure hadn’t moved.
“It’s who I think it is, right?” Clay whispered again, as if his tone would change anything.
Tenor didn’t answer, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before in more than sixty years of communal living. He walked back to his apartment in strides.
“Fuck.”
Clay didn’t idle around either. The issue of a malfunctioning elevator was the least of his concerns now but it was still the biggest hurdle of the day for every other floor in the complex, prompting him to rush up the floors. Between the fourth and the fifth he crossed paths with another neighbor, heading down.
“Hey Clay, what about that elevator dude? This place is falling apart, you’ll be worked to death before the Sun takes us.”
“No elevator yeah. I’m condemning the third floor to work on it.” Clay huffed, standing in their way and making himself as wide as he could given his size.
“Whaaat? How am I supposed to get down then?”
“Seventh has a corridor to Galos and T8, you’ll be fine, couple of minutes tops.”
The neighbor groaned but headed back without more complaints.
“And spread the word will you? Don’t want anyone messing with my already shitty as fuck day!”
Clay kept heaving, he couldn’t have been this out of breath from so little but he felt like his heart would burst at any second. The neighbor only replied with a nonchalant noise of agreement before disappearing from his view. Clay waited to not be able to hear their steps anymore and bolted back down.
Tenor had already raised a metal curtain in the stairwell, something he’d kept for no reason from when his and Clay’s apartment had been welded. Even when folded to its smallest size, the curtain took a massive space in Tenor’s small bedroom. Clay had abandoned criticizing him for his hoarding habits even before they’d gotten any other neighbors. Now that it made a real difference, he vowed to never criticize him in his head either.
“You rung Alina?” Clay said as he slipped between the curtain and the wall back to the third floor.
Tenor shook his head, he was carrying buckets in varying sizes next to the elevator and had already brought out a pump and a pressure hose. The rest of the materials to fix the elevator would come from Clay’s place but they had a bigger issue still laying inside.
Clay kept his momentum and banged on the door far left of his, with an increased tempo he didn’t have when knocking on Tenor’s. They needed to get going now, the faster he could get to cleaning the elevator the better it would be for everyone including his sleep schedule. Without an immediate response, he repeated the hammering until the door swung open.
“What’s your deal, Clay?” Avril answered, having been visibly woken up against her will.
Clay restrained a long and desperate “fuck” as Alina’s daughter answered instead, “Good day, Avril! Hey, is your mom here by any chance?”
“She’s at City Hall for the day, what’s up with you, you’re so jittery…”
He opened his mouth but it hung in the air as Avril pushed him out of the doorway. The pool of blood streaming out of the elevator hadn’t made it far but it was enough to be visible from Avril’s door. Tenor froze as she made her way to the elevator, Clay and him looked at each other and remained silent, slowly approaching the elevator in turn. Avril had stopped inches from the blood and stood silently, as if trying to comprehend what she was looking at.
All three now looked inside the cabin. The figure had barely moved, only slightly shivering, the coagulating blood covering most of its body had turned into a feeble shell. The figure slowly raised its head in a lethargic motion, its face was hidden behind a mess of hair stuck to its head but all of them could make out a pair of blue-gray eyes, looking wistfully towards them.
“Raime?” Avril said, in a voice that came out as little more than a whimper.