Chapter 6, everyone! In which more reflection occurs and Willow makes a third-story jump….
Don't Starve © 2013 Klei Entertainment
Portal © 2007 Valve
"Here we go," Wilson announced. "Off the testing track and finally making some progress."
She nodded, thrilled to leave the track that smacked too much of familiarity—
They ran through the halls, him assuring her that he couldn't reach them there without coming out and facing them himself—
Hey! Where are you going? Get back here!
Yeah, like that was going to happen.
Death by incineration. The irony was sickening.
After several minutes, they stopped, pausing to gulp in lungfuls of air.
"Okay," he panted, after a while. "Now all we need to do is find a supervisor—there should be one around here somewhere. They can't just leave a testing track running with only one guy watching."
She nodded, glanced around….
"Wilson," she noised.
He glanced around too, confused, then shrugged and set off, her trailing after him. Didn't he feel it? The wrongness of it? It felt too much like the halls had been abandoned—
But those halls had been clean, even neglecting the thin layer of dust that had been allowed to settle as the maniac in charge slowly realized that there was no point in cleaning where no one would see. He had even made the comment while they were fleeing that a cleaning bot would find their dead bodies eventually—but that had implied that he had cared enough about cleanliness that he'd send something out to clean every couple of months.
This level of grit and grime would have been in no way acceptable. She placed her hand on the railing, then quickly recoiled it and wiped it on her filthy tracksuit. Yeech.
Despite the urgency that Wilson had put out, he still stopped every few moments and glanced about. After the third or fourth time, it occurred to her that he was lost, all his usual landmarks gone.
That made her rankle. She hated thinking about it, but it was true—he had worked there, and that was why he was so knowledgeable about it all.
"No, there's only a few tracks left—"
"How are you sure?"
"I've supervised a few of these, all right? Each testing track has nineteen tests."
She had refused to talk to him for a while after discovering that fact. It was only the subsequent constant wheedling he had proceeded to do that had irritated her into speaking to him again.
Gee, now why didn't that work with me?
She ignored the voice issuing from the hidden speakers, instead turning to her companion. "Who is that guy, anyway?" she asked.
Ooh, that's rich—talk about me like I'm not here.
"He's a test track supervisor," Wilson had explained. "They keep an eye on things, recording times and making sure test subjects don't fall to their abject doom—it causes too much paperwork. Although they're supposed to be neutral in testing!" he projected to the room as a whole.
Do I look—whoops, sorry—do I sound like I care?
Personally, Willow thought the guy sounded like George Clooney had swallowed a harmonium—it was handsome in a deep way, but plagued by a wheezy quality, like someone was fiddling with the bellows. Couple that with the guy's endless sarcasm and bubbling irritation, and the voice ended up being grating.
It was going to be a long day, even with the nerd helping her.
"Oof!"
"What are you doing?"
"Sorry," Willow said, shaking her head. "I spaced out."
"You nearly went splat."
She blinked, then saw why he had stopped in front of her. The stairs down were gone, leaving a thirty-foot drop.
"No problem," she chimed, and jumped.
"Willow!"