I'm amazed this thing survived what just happened.

The Creatures bombed the base so badly the building fell. But it was so weird. It didn't fall sideways, but straight down. The soldiers say that's all in the architecture. I think it's amazing and simply lucky.

Lucky that the building didn't fall and we all died, at least. Seven casualties. The floor of the top floor fell in. It almost crushed me, and it seriously injured Elf. I don't know how she's going to recover from this.

I'm at the point of taking desperate measures. I keep thinking about a trapdoor I found in one of my first mornings here. I don't know what's under it, but I feel like there's something useful in there. If we can get into there without being eaten by Creatures-I just heard about their story, and what they do to their enemy is just disturbing-that would be good.

I'm not going to do anything unless I can get some soldiers to back me. And not until I can get the damn thing open. And not until we've healed. And not until the bombing ceases.

I close the notebook as Constance enters the room. "Elf is awake," she says.

"How is she?" I ask, standing up.

"Better," Constance says. "But not by much."

"At least she's getting better," I say.

Constance nods. "There's something else I want to discuss with you."

"Oh?"

"When I was talking to the soldier, he told to me to check the closets."

"Check the closets?" I repeat. "That's weird. Why?"

"He didn't specify."

I walk over to the closet and throw the doors open. "What are we looking for?" I ask. "Because I see some sheets and clothes."

Constance peers over my shoulder. "Maybe check out the wall?" she suggests.

I run my hands over the walls. "Still nothing."

Constance. "We should tell people to check their closets. We can check the rooms that are empty."

"Good idea," I say. "I'll take the top floors, you take the bottom. We'll work our way to the middle."

She nods, then stops, a stricken look coming to her face. "How low? I don't want to be by the fighting."

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable," I say.

When I leave the room again, the hall is empty. Everyone is in their rooms, probably scared out their minds. The building sways a little as I knock on the first door. A terrified young girl opens the door.

"Where's your mommy?" I ask her.

The girl looks around. "I don't know," she whimpers. "The doctor had carried Mamma out of the room and told me he was sorry."

I swallow. Her mother must've been one of the casualties. "I'm sorry to hear that," I tell her. "Can I check out something in your room for a moment?"

She considers it for a moment, then steps to the side. I enter the mess of the room and open the closet doors with some difficulty. It's the same as before. Empty.

"What are you doing?" the little girl asks.

I look down at her. "Just checking something out. I'm gonna leave now, okay?"

I can feel her eyes on my back as I leave.

Every room is the same. Empty. There's nothing of use in any of them.

I'm on the third floor down when I hear the scream.

"Constance!" I scream. I run downstairs, jumping over pieces of rubble and stairs.

She's on the 34th floor. I find in one of the rooms, staring at something in the closet. No-make that someone.

Dead.

"That-that-it's just-I found it-" Constance couldn't even form a complete sentence.

I look at the skeleton, hanging by a rope noose. "It's old," I noted. "Really old. This must've happened at the beginning of the war."

"This must've been a hotel at one point before now," Constance says with a shiver. "This place has a history a dark as the Overlook."

I nod. "And I thought life here couldn't get scarier."

The hotel sways a little, throwing us off balance. The motion causes the neck of the skeleton to snap. The body crumples to the floor, while the skull still hangs in place. It looks like it's grinning at us. The sight is completely unnerving, so I say shakily, "Let's get out of here."

She nods and I lead her out of the room. At the door frame, I look back at the headless body and shiver.

"I think we're done for today," I say when we reach the stairs. She gives a shaky laugh and begins climbing. I follow suit.

She goes to her bedroom, but I climb all the way up and visit Elf. She's awake now and is propped up by a bunch of pillows. "Hey," she says hoarsely as I enter.

"Hey," I reply. "How're you feeling?"

"Like crap," she answers. "What about you?"

"Like I could go for a hamburger and fries. Maybe a beer." 

Elf smiles and looks out the window. Her eyes sadden, and I know she's thinking about the things we lost.

I crouch down next to the bed and clasp her hand. She looks at me, her hair falling over her face. I gently brush it back and tell her, "Things are gonna be okay soon. I promise."

She nods and begins to cry. "What if they won't be?" she asks. "What if we're stuck in this hellhole until we die?"

"We won't be," I say, but even I can hear the craftiness in my voice.

"How do you know?" she demands. A sob shakes her entire body. "Nate, I'm so scared right now."

"I know," I say in a quiet voice. "Believe me, we all are. And I know we can't do anything now except pray."

"Even that doesn't work sometimes," Elf points out. "How do we know that ever works? How do we know if there's a divine figure like God? Doesn't it just seem He's just a personification of luck and miracle? Does fate exist, or is it the outcome of the choices we make in life? How do we know? How do we ever know anything?"

I occurs to me that Elf's thought about religion a lot before. And it occurs to me that she just might be right.

"We don't," I admit. "We never do know."

"Exactly! So, tell me, what's praying going to do? Make us feel better about events that are out of your or my control? It doesn't help at all. Don't tell me that all we can do is pray, because all praying does is give us a false sense of hope. Look at the facts, Nate. There's nothing we can do anymore."