“The city is in gridlock.” Acrylic announced in the silence punctuated by fizzing and smoldering components. I dusted glass shards off of my lab coat. Fetus had slowly approached the box containing the heart and lungs.
“What is she doing?” I asked Arylic.
Suddenly I realized why she had gone into a rage. Her father’s organs were the life of Mephisto.
The radio at my hip crackled. “Get to the third floor. Repeat Third. Floor.” A chorus of ’copy’s chimed in. “Daemon.” I breathed. “Fetus? We’ve gotta go.”
“The third floor parking garage? But the elevator is not functional.” Acrylic frowned.
The large fans cooling Mephisto had all stopped. The space between the blades was large enough for a body. “Then we go up and out.” I pointed.
Leading the way, Fetus dragging behind, crystal tears on her alabaster skin, I looked up.
“I cannot access the venting diagrams anymore.”
“We need to head up, that’s all that matters.”
“The third floor is down,” countered Fetus.
“Roofs have fire escapes.”