On once more. On about the walls, and on, turn after turn.
On, while mankind's life-span ticked away.
The door came under my groping fingers. I clutched the knob; shook it.
It didn't give.
Something snapped inside me. Wildly, I flung myself at the heavy portal—kicking it, clawing it, beating on it with my fists.
No answer.
I yelled—a fierce, shrill cry to wake the dead. Again, again, again ... hammering and screaming, screaming and hammering.
Celeste: "Mark, stop it, stop it! stop it! They won't come. You'll only hurt yourself!"
Panting, I drew back, crouched, and then lunged for the slab that blocked our way, hurling myself against it with all my weight and strength.
"Mark, Mark—!"