Don't Look Down

They approach from the southwest. Gothstone has shed his jumpsuit for a less-suspicious T-shirt and shorts. Sonic is so excited that he can't contain himself; he tugs on storm grates to see if there is an underground entrance. The building is ringed in plywood and looks impenetrable.

The team fans out along the building, pushing against the wood to see if anything gives. Wolf moves a manhole cover to check sewer access, but it's a 10-foot drop. More than five minutes pass — plenty of time for someone to have called the cops.

Gothstone tugs hard at an old glass door covered in paper at the northeast corner. It swings open.

"Guess what I found?" he calls out proudly. In seconds, everyone is inside, flashlights on.

The day after a hard rain, massive puddles cover the floor. Oversized fans hum from the center of the room to dry out the building. It smells moldy and damp. There are no plush rows of seats or ornate marble refreshment counters. Staircases near the stage ascend into nothingness. The stage itself is just a framework of metal slats.

"As depressing as it is, at least they are doing something with it," Wolf says.

"This place is a shell," Sonic says.

"At the very least, they could have left the marble staircases for a few more years," Gothstone says. "I just can't believe this."

The antique projector they had previously spotted on an upper floor is missing, too.

"They are all gone. All that shit is gone. Probably sold it on eBay for $20,000," Sonic adds.

They spot the original scaffolding dangling above the main stage.

"We going up or what?" Explorer asks. He seems eager to redeem himself for not seeing the roof of the grain silo.

The crew ducks below wooden beams with placards that warn "danger." They step carefully around holes in the floor and climb to a small ledge above the balcony.

Gothstone spots a square of light behind him and discovers an old door that swings open onto a gravel rooftop.

To the north sits the rounded edge of the building's gothic dome. A tall tree grows on the rooftop, marking the time since the building was inhabited.

Back inside, Wolf warns against going farther. He says that the warning signs on the beams ahead must be posted for a reason.

"Come on," Billionaire says. "This is our last time to do this."

"Oh, absolutely," Sonic adds, following Billionaire as he ducks past another caution sign.

"I'm staying," Wolf calls after them. The rest of the team remains with Wolf. Billionaire and Sonic climb a gutted, narrow stairwell. They slosh through ankle-deep water that has pooled in the stairwell's landings.

The two men cross a creaky wooden stairway onto a catwalk without a guardrail. It's a straight drop — about six stories down. Phosphorescent-orange construction paint glows below them. They climb another small ladder and step onto a rusty row of foot-wide metal cross beams with pulleys to shift scenery.

"There's no rigging," Sonic says, still following.

"Well, nothing to get in the way," Billionaire says as he gingerly steps across the beams.

"It's not too far down," Sonic adds sarcastically, looking at a thin line of orange fencing surrounding the stage below.

Both breathe heavily as they walk across the beams. They reach the other side of the building and decide that there's nothing more to test their nerves.

On the way back down, they pull the roof trapdoor shut and make sure that they haven't moved anything. The fans ensure that their footprints will evaporate by the time the weekday crews arrive back at work. Sonic slams a shoulder heavily into the glass door to make sure it shuts tightly.

Getting into the Empire has galvanized Sonic, and he convinces the group to head to the garage of a downtown loft building, which everyone knows should be accessed only at night. Inside the garage, in the floor of the bottom level, is a secret entrance to a 19th-century streetcar tunnel that shuttled people from downtown to the West Bottoms.

Sonic ignores a sign near the garage warning that visitors are being videotaped. But when they round the corner, they see a security guard striding quickly toward them. "You need to leave," the guard orders them.

Sonic tries to convince the security guard to give them a tour. The guard isn't going to give in, but Sonic's not ready to end the day.

"We've got time to do one more thing," he tells the group. "It will be quick."

They drive a couple of blocks north, near the City Market. The team huddles around a row of storm grates in the center of a parking lot just south of the market. It's dusk, and the reflective glass of the nearby Commerce Bank Building illuminates the lot. Streetlights have blinked on. The headlights of passing cars pan past the group like searchlights.

Wolf eyes the padlocked grates. He has learned that one of these slots opens by sliding horizontally, bypassing the lock.

Sonic pulls aside the grate. It scratches loudly against the pavement. His hands on either side of the hole, Wolf swings his feet toward a ladder.