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The Burning City 22

    The man with no name thought about his predicament a little more before he started


    shooting. He didn’t know what would happen if he fell off the tower. He didn’t know


    if there was a person responsible for the thing. And he didn’t know how much trouble


    he was actually in.


    He did know it was connected to the Alvas he had been hunting, but he didn’t see his


    quarry anywhere.


    He had walked into an alley, and then fell here. He had crossed a dimensional border


    somewhere. And he had no way to cross back.


    He bent down and examined the blocks he stood on. They were wooden to the touch,


    about ten feet long, and looked to be cut eight by eight thick. They were uniform


    enough to come from a saw mill, or magic design.


    He didn’t see any openings. He paced the roof of the tower as he thought about his


    next move.


    He thought that if he had some kind of door magic this wouldn’t be that much of a


    problem. He could just reverse the process and land back in the alley.


    He looked over the side again. He didn’t see the ground. There were too many clouds


    in the way. He saw something poking out of the wall of the tower. It looked like one


    shoe.


    He supposed he knew what happened to the owner of the single shoe from the alley


    now. He wondered if he was going to undergo the same process. He didn’t like that


    at all.


    He didn’t have anything to worry about as long as nothing came at him while he was


    trying to think of a way out of the place.


    Maybe Stupid would think of something. He smiled at that. He doubted the horse


    cared about what happened to him as long as he found someone else to feed him.


    And somehow he knew as long as he was in this place, he didn’t have to worry about


    the time limit he was under until he got back to the real world. The only thing he had


    to worry about was what might be in the space with him.


    And finding someone who could send him back might be the best way to use his time.


    He still had a stack of cards to serve. He couldn’t depend on someone coming to look


    for him just because he had fallen off the map. That would be asking too much for a


    second man with no name to find him.


    One of the pieces of wood started to slide away from the roof. He watched it as it fell


    off the roof and headed down into the clouds. He saw that there was a second layer


    of wood crosswise to the roof pieces.


    He frowned as he considered pieces of wood being pulled out of the tower while he


    was still at the top. What would happen him if the thing collapsed? Would he survive


    any type of fall?


    How much could he take before he couldn’t go on anymore? Did he want to find that


    out?


    He needed to start making his way down before he found out the hard way.


    He decided to kick one of the edge pieces over the side. He could keep doing that to


    make steps if he was careful enough.


    He walked over to the edge of the roof and pushed one of the roof pieces off. It felt


    lighter than it should from the way it was built. He didn’t watch it fall. He considered


    the next piece he needed to push off.


    A piece from lower in the tower was pulled out. He felt the ground shake as the wood


    moved under unseen hands.


    How many more could be pulled out before the thing fell over. He had to work faster


    if he didn’t want to be crushed, or drop into a bottomless hole.


    He picked a piece on the layer under him and sent it out into space. That gave him


    part of a step.


    The third layer was crosswise in the same direction as the roof. He nodded. That was


    just like he expected. He decided on a piece there as another piece was shoved out


    from a random layer below him.


    He decided that the piece pulling was to seem fair for some reason. Four pieces pulled


    out in the same place could drop part of the tower like that. Apparently it was better


    to just pull one out in a different layer and let the tower drop when it reached a certain


    limit. He had to be below that limit if he wanted to keep moving down.


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    He kicked out the third layer piece and decided that might give him a hand hold if he


    decided to start climbing down the outside of the tower instead of waiting for it to


    fall.


    He looked for a fourth layer piece and decided to knock one of the edges out so he


    could have another handhold. He might be able to form a ladder if he was fast


    enough.


    Was that what the other guy thought before he was crushed?


    The dead man took a moment as the next piece was pulled far below. There was no


    way he could knock out enough pieces with his hands to avoid the problem of the


    tower falling. He needed a faster way down that didn’t require him pulling pieces out.


    He couldn’t climb down because the pieces were too smooth to get a grip and the


    edges were pressed together so he couldn’t get his fingers in the edges. If he tried


    that, he would just slide to his death.


    And he was not willing to be beaten before he was done with his job.


    He leveled one of his pistols at the floor. He pulled the trigger. Flame blasted a hole


    in the wood. He nodded. He was going to have to shoot his way out of his problem.


    He pulled his other pistol and started shooting. He wished had the foresight to bring


    his heavy carbine, but he hadn’t thought the blaster was necessary. He knew better


    now.


    He sensed the pieces being pulled faster below him in the way the tower swayed but


    concentrated fire on the floor below him. He blasted holes through the wooden pieces


    and kicked them out of the way where he could. The remains held up the edges as he


    worked his way down.


    He thought he heard a growl of anger but let his pistols drown the sound out. He


    could see the walls on either side of him swaying. He knew the pieces above him


    might start coming down at any moment. He needed to do something about that if he


    wanted to get out of this with his skin intact.


    He blasted at the pieces to his right. He saw part of the wall collapse and fall into


    nothing. It took that part of the roof with it. He smiled as turned and blasted the left.


    That part started collapsing on top of him. He started blasting the floor, trying to


    outrun the wooden beams coming down on top of him. He fell into a clear space as


    the beams dropped into where he had been standing.


    That had been a piece of luck. He didn’t try to stand. The hole above him was covered


    with crossbeams. He had to keep going down.


    He fired into the floor and continued working his way through the wood. He decided


    that the invisible forces running the tower knew he was still alive. He could hear


    other pieces being removed as he worked.


    How many more could be taken out before the whole thing fell over?


    He realized he didn’t know how far off the ground he was if there was a ground in the


    first place. The tower might be the only thing in the dimension. And he was wrecking


    it while trying to figure out what was going on.


    A voice boomed in the air that he had reached level fifty. He paused for a second to


    consider what that meant.


    He had either reached the midpoint of the pile, if the pile was a hundred levels. Or he


    had a long way to go to reach the bottom.


    He decided that he had reached the midpoint and needed to fight his way down the


    rest of the way before the tower finished collapsing. He had bought himself some


    time knocking the top off. He needed to keep using that to keep moving.


    He couldn’t wait to talk to whomever had created this monstrosity. They might not


    be on his warrant cards but he doubted he and the man with one shoe were the only


    ones that had stumbled into the space. He also doubted any of the others had firearms


    to defend themselves like he did.


    Being crushed by falling blocks because you were trying to climb down some magical


    tower needed to be avenged by his way of thinking. And luckily an avenger was right


    there to do that.


    He continued to work his way down. The barrels of his pistols were red hot from the


    constant firing. He let one cool down and holstered it. He would need it later. He


    couldn’t overwork it now.


    The dead man hit a clear space and thought he had reached another spot that had been


    drawn from on his way down. He saw holes where he could see the sky beyond.


    Clouds drifted by to let him know he was closer to the ground than he supposed.


    He knew real clouds didn’t circle like those did unless caught up in a wind funnel.


    He moved to the edge and looked out. He could see the ground now. It was a platform


    of wooden blocks around the tower. They stretched to the horizon, but the horizon


    was close. He supposed the world was smaller than he liked.


    A piece flew out of the tower close to the ground. He could see the rest sway. A few


    more like that and it would fall over with him riding it to the ground.


    He decided he could take a risk now that he was close to the ground. He didn’t like


    it, but it was better than letting an unknown monster kill him.


    He shook the red hot weapon to cool it down to holster it. He drew the other one. He


    looked down the sides of the rectangular cube. He was going to have to get out


    on the wall and use that to reach the bottom without getting killed.


    It sounded easier than it looked as he readied himself to go.


    He climbed out through the opening. He started sliding down the side of the tower.


    He took aim and fired his pistol at the wall below him. A divot appeared as he headed


    for his doom.


    He was able to put his foot in the divot and stop his slide. He hugged the wall to keep


    from falling backwards to his death. He waited for a second as a crosspiece fell out


    of the tower somewhere above where he should be.


    He shot and dropped again. The top of the tower swayed as he caught himself. The


    wood started to fall in his direction. He dropped the last few feet and moved to


    let the wood crash off the stand that he stood on.


    “You won,” said a voice in the air. “Let’s play again.”


    “I don’t think so,” said the dead man. “I think you should stop with your games.


    You’re killing people for fun.”


    “Why else would I kill people?,” said the voice. “Let’s play again.”


    “No,” said the dead man. “Play time is over.”


    A face surrounded by arms appeared in the sky above him. It snarled as the arms


    reached down to teach him a lesson. No one decided play time was over until she


    decided play time was over.
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