The Will To Live✔️

Chapter 38: The Deep

The elevator descended for a concerning amount of time.

Greg was finding it a bit harder to maintain his focus simply due to the amount of pressure that was now riding on him. He was used to high stakes and short fuses, but this was ridiculous. To his knowledge, he'd never had the fate of an entire world resting on his shoulders. All the more reason to stay sharp, but all the more reason why it was getting more difficult. Greg wasn't delusional. He knew that he had strength and will, more than even the average Marine, but he also knew that he had hard limits.

Even the strongest metal would shatter under enough pressure or the right circumstances.

He took a moment to check over his weapons. The only sound was the soft hum of the lift descending. Greg tried not to think of the immense weight of the icy water pushing in on all sides around them. A few things made him pretty nervous, and being underwater was on that list. There was something about knowing that there was tremendous, unseen force surrounding you and it was trying to kill you.

Or, if not trying, then at least you would die as a natural consequence of it getting its way.

Water wanted in, and if given the tiniest opportunity, it would burst inside and it wouldn't stop until it had killed you or you had forced it to cease.

Space was the same, though it was the opposite.

Air and warmth wanted out.

Greg didn't do too well in space, at first at least, but he'd eventually learned to tolerate it. But it wasn't like he operated in an aquatic environment all that often.

The elevator began to slow as he finished checking over his gear. It seemed to be in working order. After some consideration, he selected the shotgun. The hull could probably stand up to a direct shotgun blast if it came to that.

Probably.

He hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

The elevator settled into the bottom of the shaft and then all became still and silent.

"Get ready," Greg murmured as everyone quickly positioned themselves around the door, ready to blast away at anything that might be waiting for them.

The doors slid open.

Again, an anticlimax. Greg relaxed ever so slightly as a bloody, flickering security checkpoint was revealed to him. Slowly, shotgun at the ready, he walked out of the elevator with Izzy. She covered left while he covered right. Nothing but more dented, bloody metal and bodies and spent shell casings. A computer console bled sparks in random bursts. A pipe leaked steadily overhead. Somewhere, too close for comfort, something growled.

Greg spied two ways out of the room, both of them ripped open by force.

"Coretti, Rydell, cover the right door, Ellis, Laney, the other one," Greg said.

They all snapped off quick replies and headed off to provide cover. "Izzy, Turner, see if you can find a working terminal."

They both nodded and got to it. While they worked, Greg moved around the security checkpoint, making double sure they were secure. As far as he could tell, this was their only way into, and thus consequently out of, the facility. There was nothing hiding in the shadows or among the debris scattered across the room. He glanced out the only window, which was sprayed with blood but otherwise intact, and saw a floodlight on out there. He saw nothing but dark water, though after a moment a fish swam into the light, then darted away.

"Got something," Turner said.

He and Izzy joined her in a little booth tucked away in a corner of the room. She made way for Izzy, who booted up the console and began navigating it.