Ascent: (Book 1) The Ladder by Anthony Thackston

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                Joe looks up at the sound of more metal grinding against metal and old hinges squeaking as they are forced to move after prolonged lack of use. A faint shadow moves up past a light, still many feet above.
                “Scraggle? Hey old man!” Joe yells up into the silent tunnel.
                “The prophecy awaits,” Scraggle says loudly enough to be heard but not loudly enough to echo as much as before.
                The next sound Joe hears is that of a metal door slamming shut. That noise echoes explosively through the tunnel.
                “The Surface,” Joe says under his breath. He quickens his pace to reach the top. The sound of the rotating metal disappears from his mind and his ears as he climbs higher into the dark.
                The final light shines on the ceiling. The long climb up the Ladder is over. Joe takes a moment to close his eyes and re-imagine his dream. He sees the bright light shining through the doorway.
                Joe opens his eyes and sees a small rectangular panel with numbers on it. The panel is attached to the wall. Shrugging it off as nothing, Joe puts one hand on the ceiling. It’s much smoother than the rest of the surfaces in the tunnel. He pushes against it and nothing happens. He hits the ceiling and a metal banging reverberates through the tunnel.
                Joe pushes again and it just budges, enough that the same grinding sound from before signals he has reached the door. The same one Scraggle went through. The same one that appeared in his dream.
                Joe steps higher up the Ladder to put his shoulder against the hatch door. He puts his feet on rungs just high enough to give him the needed leverage to push with his legs. The bright light from his dream flashes in his mind as Joe gives one more, hard press. The metal grinds and the hinges squeak as the door finally opens.

 
    Chapter Twelve
     
                The metal door flies open and floods the tunnel and Joe’s eyes with light. He shuts his eyes tightly to shield them from it. The brightness still manages to shine through his eyelids.
                 He slowly eases the tension over his eyes so that they are gently closed. A furrow forms on his brow when he realizes there is no heat coming from the light. There is no breeze brushing by him. The air feels cool and slightly cleaner than compared to the Mines but it is not rushing past him.
                Joe’s eyes open slowly and the same white light from the Gear Hall and the Doctor’s office floods his vision.
                As his eyes adjust to the piercing light, Joe takes in his new surroundings. The room looks almost like the Doctor’s office, except there is no steel table in the center. The floor is a hard gray stone. Except for a few cracks in its surface, the floor looks as though it could have been one giant rock that was ground down to a smooth floor.
                On three sides of the room the walls are made up of different sized sections of white panels. Each panel has a dull shine. The fourth wall looks black. A deep, dense black. None of the lights in the ceiling reflect off of it. There is a dull buzzing sound in the room. The sound causes Joe to feel slightly disoriented. Or maybe it’s just the coming Sick.
                Scraggle stands in front of a small mirror. His appearance is completely different. Even his height has changed as he stands straighter. His clothes are no longer dirty and disheveled and his hair is now shorter. Joe watches him while he trims away at his long white beard.
                “Welcome. Make yourself at home, dear Dreamer.”
                Even his voice and the way he now speaks is different. Scraggle places a hand on a panel and a large door slides down into the floor. From the opening extends a surface very