The farther Vanya descended, the more difficult it became to separate the individual sounds coming from below.
The stairwell carried every noise upward, turning the condominium into a hollow chamber filled with panic.
Someone was crying.
Someone was praying.
A man was shouting for people to stay inside their apartments.
Then came another scream.
Harold's grip tightened around the crowbar.
Vanya noticed but said nothing.
She continued downward, one hand lightly resting against the railing as her eyes moved over every landing they passed.
The concrete walls were unchanged.
The emergency lights were still functioning.
There were no signs of damage.
No blood.
No bodies.
Nothing that suggested the chaos had reached them yet.
But the sounds below were becoming louder.
Closer.
Harold took another step.
"Nya."
Vanya glanced over her shoulder.
"What?"
"How much farther?"
"Seven or eight floors."
His face tightened.
He nodded and continued.
