I know everything I know

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

The Mountain (Part 1)

We should have seen it coming. We were young though. Still had our eyes closed; in my case closed tight. I’d already seen my fair share of weird shit and had no interest in adding to the mania that were my scattered childhood memories.


We should have seen it coming, but our eyes were closed. It hit us square in the face like a freshly cleaned sliding glass door. You know the ones. You end up hanging some cheap ass plastic “stained glass” butterfly or some shit on it just so you know it’s there.


“So that girl in the dorms…you do her or what?”


He’d already heard the question a half dozen times in the last two hours. Apparently word had gotten around that Gunter had stumbled off to his room about 3am with the nearly under-aged hottie in question. “Yeah.”


“That’s it? Yeah. Just like that?” Hill ribbed him high in the chest and nearly knocked him into one of the steel wall struts which stuck out of the wall every ten feet or so. Hill was a big guy. A nice guy in general, but a bit of a pain. Liked to read a lot. Liked to drink a little more. It was obvious though, admittedly only occasionally, but noticeable none-the-less that Hill had been an ass in high school. Probably a jock son-of-a-bitch. Still though, I couldn’t complain much. He’d helped me through Basic and Tech School in his own way. Yeah he was an ass, but you could count on him to have your back if you needed it. Luckily.


Gunter stopped dead. The two of us didn’t even realize it for a second and had to turn around to find him.


“I did her. Yeah. It was just sex. Nothing special.” He looked pissed. Then he looked a little depressed and finished off in a lower voice, “Besides, she’s got a boyfriend in prison. He gets out in like a week.”


Hill and I just looked at each other. I think he was about to smirk, but thought better of it when I flashed him a “don’t do it jack ass” look. The three of us continued down the corridor to the 3rd floor entrance of the Space Warning Center. It was a long walk.


Navigating the miles of corridors which were The Mountain was something that took getting used to in the normal course of things, but this time was a little more confusing. It wasn’t just multiple switch-backs and blind stair wells along nondescript steel walled tan corridors with nothing but small brown numbered door placards to point the way. No, this time was a little different. No one in our Shop had even known there was a third floor entrance to the SWC. First floor sure. Second floor of course. But third? None of us even realize the thing had a third floor. Even Bob hadn’t known where it was and that old civilian dude had been here longer than most of us had been breathing air.


We rounded a darkened corner marveling at how the hell House Keeping had managed to get out of cleaning the area for what appeared the last ten years, when RV stumbled headlong into us. The three strands of hair he meticulously spiraled around to cover his otherwise bald head fell down reaching nearly past his pocket protector. He looked up. Smiled, and then headed back past us; a dust bunny or two swirling around the floor behind him.


“OK. That guy is just weird,” Gunter sneered with his first words in more than five minutes. “I mean he seems nice enough, but then he’s never actually spoken. Every time I’ve seen him he’s just shuffling along with his head down mumbling something.”


Hill immediately agreed. Probably happy to be able to make snide comments without me giving him shit. “He’s a freaking nut case. I mean where does he even work!? I’ve yet to see him actually doing anything. Just another useless civilian. You’re right. He’s just always mumbling around.”


I chuckled, “He’s like that stapler guy in Office Space man. He probably doesn’t even get a pay check. Maybe we can get him to kill some cockroaches for us out in the storage lockers.”


We all laughed. We were still laughing in fact when I stopped in my tracks.


“OK. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but this place is creepy as shit. And ummm…where do those go?” I stretched out my arm pointing at the tracks in the half inch of dust on the floor. It was obvious the tracks had been left by RV. They hadn’t yet been covered up by the gentle blowing breeze of the air handling units over the dust. Thing was...they led right back through a door; a door with no number or placard, or even a handle. It was apparently locked and opened only from the inside, which was a bit odd in itself, but it didn’t have a number. Every door in every part of The Mountain, even the broom closets, had numbers. It might be something like 3204.2G/18C, but it had a freaking number. Barely visible among the marks in the dust where the door had opened were another pair or two of boot prints.


“Got me.” Gunter looked around as if there would be some street sign somewhere explaining where we were and where the door led. “Fuck if I know.” Curiosity got the best of Hill. He pulled the walkie-talkie off his belt and pressed the send button to contact someone back at our shop. “CSS this is Hill.” He waited. There was no response, just a strange thumping static. “CSS this is Hill. Do you copy?” More thumping. “Hello? Anybody th…” A deafening squawk blasted out of the walkie-talkie. Then it went totally dead.


Ever have that feeling when you know damn well you just screwed up but you don’t have a clue why? You just know you’re gonna seriously regret it? “Oh shit.”


…just like a glass door. SMACK!

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