7.c.x.
The labyrinth
didn’t necessarily follow the same path as the ledge-maze above. For instance, there were circular doorways
that tunneled through sidewalls allowing passage where, up on top, there was no
such option. More than one corridor that
at first appeared unbarred became impassable when the walkway became a decline,
dipping far beneath floor level, and terminating at a steep wall. And there were pits in the floor that dropped
away into blackness. If one were to test
the depths of these dark holes by dropping something down one of them, a
dismembered hand of an unlucky day trader for example, it would be an unnerving
amount of time before a thudding report sounded from the bottom.
“Damn that’s
deep,” said Business Woman, wiping blood from her hands on the suit of a
nearby, hand-amputated corpse.
“Can we jump
it?” asked Demand.
Business Woman
tilted her head, shoulders slumping, and said, “You want to try?”
“Well... not
really.”
“What are we
going to do?” asked Supply. “Go
back? I think Bear Market’s back there.”
“Yeah. Can’t go back,” said Business Woman.
“I could grow
and get you guys out of here. There’s
often an excess supply of luxury items during a crash so it wouldn’t be that difficult.”
“No. Then you’d be trapped down here alone and
we’d still be lost but up there with The Crash.
Maybe if you were big you could see better and lead–”
Business Woman
stopped. She stared at the pit and bit
her lower lip.
“Well we
can’t–” Demand started.
“Hold on. Give me a second here,” said Business Woman
holding her palm toward Demand. A low,
rumbling growl echoed off the trench walls.
It sounded close. “Okay. Demand.
Focus on increasing the demand of a particular commodity.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t
know,” said Business Woman. “Just pick
one.”
“You mean… Oranges
or something?” Demand asked.
“Sure. Whatever pops into your head first.”
Demand scowled
and took a deep breath. His jaw clenched
and his hands bunched into fists. The
floor vibrated, a slight tingly hum are first, and then an excited,
pleasure-bed shudder. A section of floor rose up from the pit and locked into
place, almost seamless with the rest of the trench floor.
“Come on,
quick, before Bear Market catches up to us,” Business Woman said as they sped
across the new floor. Then, as if on
cue, a roar echoed off the walls, loud and close.
“Wait a
second,” said Demand, turning back. He
held his hands up, palms outward, and eyes pinched shut. There was a crack, like a rifle shot, and the
section of floor fell away, leaving a pit once more.
“So he can’t
follow us,” Demand said.
Bear Market
charged around a corner and into view, flailing his clawed, syrupy-red
paw-hands and roaring. He skidded to a
stop at the edge of the pit, howled wildly, and slammed his arms against the
floor, claws gouging jagged ravines across the smooth surface. Two snuffling grunts sent sprays of ravenous
saliva and day trader red into the air.
Then he bolted back down the corridor, the way he’d come.
“Too bad,”
said Business Woman. “I was hoping he’d
fall into the pit.”
“That just
what I was think–”
But Demand
didn’t finish. Another deep roar cut him
off. And then heavy pounding footsteps.
Bear Market
burst into view, charged down the trench corridor, and leapt over the pit like
a pouncing cougar. His hairy, blood
matted body slammed against the floor and slid toward them leaving a scarlet
trail.
And then he
was up, springing forward. Howling and
snarling. Terrible teeth bared, ragged
with scraps of torn suit fabric and stockbroker flesh.
