I’m still writing… 21,000 words so far…
____‘But now we’re on four,’ I protested. He said nothing and continued to lead. The corridors here were quieter but badly maintained. A number of panels were loose from the walls exposing the rigs electric interior. We crouched under a rope hanging the width of the corridor and wandered past more loose panels and broken light fixtures being tended too by men and women. We turned right, we turned left, we took a left at a junction and then another right.
____‘Oi!’ said a voice behind us. I turned but the man continued to pull at my arm.
____‘Oi, you! You’re not supposed to be here!’
____The man pulling me turned so quickly that I almost walked into him. I turned to a tall woman with blonde hair. The man next to me pulled something out of his pocket.
____‘This area is undergoing key main – ’
____He flashed something at her. A badge? The woman backed off down the corridor and I was brusquely pulled away. Some of the panels by our feet had been removed and it was as if we were no longer walking through a corridor but some giant machine; two electric charges navigating metallic depths, 1’s and 0’s, man and woman, pulsing through synapses and axons to the nucleus, epicentre, heart. Yet what if we were the disease? What if every step were corrosive; dislodging a panel or unfurling a bundle of wires ahead. If we walked fast enough, far enough, perhaps we’d wear out the entire floor beneath our feet and find ourselves suddenly in snow and storms. We rounded another corner, made our way through a set of doors, and down some steps. We took a left.