When the Clouds Fell

Chapter 20: In Which Hayden Gives Up

He watched the clogged sink fill up. The murky water gurgled as it rose higher and higher until it spilled over the edge and splattered on his shoes. It continued to pool up under him to form a mirror, and he made no move to stop it.

He could see himself in the puddle, warping out of shape as more liquid collected around it.

The water beckoned him closer.

He did not get closer.

He fought the sudden, overpowering urge to submerge his face in the sink and taste the water on his tongue. Why the heck would he do that?

Hayden inched away from the pool, gasping as it followed him. He shuffled back faster. The puddle spilled forward faster. He crashed into a chair, almost knocking it over in his haste to clamber on.

Never, in the sixteen years of his life, had he ever been so afraid of water. Water had always been a familiar friend and a comforting presence. A place where he could hide his tears. Water had never drawn him in so insistently and neither had it been so persistent in going after him. He did not like this new, clingy relationship.

"Stay back," he told it, hugging his knees to his chest.

It stopped, slinking away almost sulkily.

Hayden let out a breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He was not one to let little things like this bother him. He did not care. He would be okay. The water pipes must have just burst. Yes, that sounded more plausible.

He stood with shaking legs and made his way back into the hall. He balled his hands into tight fists to stop them from trembling.

Then, he heard it. A high-pitched howl rang in the glistening corridor, muffled by its distance. He followed the sound. It rose in volume as he neared the back portion of the corridor.

This part was not rebuilt like the rest of the floor. The paint peeled and the ground creaked when he walked on it. Grime clung to the windows allowing a muddled view of the outside. The rooms he passed were littered with rusted bed frames and strange contraptions that were bent out of shape.

He listened for the wailing. It got louder as he neared one of the many rooms. He stepped in and crouched before a trapdoor in the wall.

The inside held a steep slide that plunged into a black abyss.

"This looks fun," Hayden muttered.

He could hear the howling loud and clear now. It must have been coming up from a lower floor. He contemplated finding another way down. He recalled passing some doors with stairs printed on them. If he could find those again, he could go into the basement and see what all the racket was about.

Hayden stood and promptly smacked his head into the trapdoor causing him to pitch forward. He pinwheeled his arms in an attempt to steady himself. And only sped up his fall.

"Aw, heck," Hayden said, closing his eyes as he descended into the darkness.

The ride down was far from pleasant. It felt like those suffocating slides in indoor playgrounds that looped on for too long and were much too dark for comfort. He vaguely recalled getting stuck in one and bawling while En and Derek came to retrieve him.

Hayden rolled out of the tube onto a concrete floor. He popped one eye open.

The room around him could only be described as trashed. Shattered glass lay strewn all over the floor, the walls had been torn open until the insulation spilled out, and the ceiling tiles hung from their frames.