After the ten-minute countdown began, all the lights around the Old TV Tower came on.
Red warning lights swept around the tower, level by level, falling across the rust-covered iron framework like sections of old bone stripped bare. Wind blew in from the demolition zone, carrying the damp, earthy smell of soil and making the cordon tape rattle incessantly.
Beside the maintenance shaft in Zone C, everyone sprang into action.
The Deputy Captain took the Demolition Team to open the ventilation shaft behind the Broadcast Room. The Technical Team reconnected to the Old TV Tower's circuits, while the Medical Team carried the last batch of living human shells to the ambulances. Of the twenty-four people, Fang Yan regained consciousness the fastest. She sat on a stretcher, still clutching a medic's wrist before the wounds left by the torn white membrane on her face had been fully treated.
"There's a small door behind the Broadcast Room," she said. "He comes out of there every time he changes faces."
The Deputy Captain immediately asked, "Where does it lead?"
Fang Yan raised a hand and pointed toward the east side of the tower.
"The old ventilation shaft. There are three locks on the door. An iron lock, a line lock, and a... face lock."
Xu Zhihan looked at her.
"A face lock?"
Fang Yan's lips trembled.
"Someone has to press their face against it before the door will open. He's used other people's faces to open it before."
For a moment, no one around her spoke.
Lu Wenchuan walked over from the shaft.
"So we can get in through the ventilation shaft."
"And people can die there," Xu Zhihan said coldly.
Lu Wenchuan looked at him. "I know."
"And you're still going?"
Lu Wenchuan did not answer immediately.
Eight minutes and forty seconds