GABRIEL #2
I nod and get back to work.
The program scans the network. A few devices show up on the list. One door controller and three IP cameras. I click the first one. The corridor appears on my laptop screen. We are not visible yet because we are still behind the door, but the moment we open it, this camera will catch us.
Edgar instinctively steps back from the door.
"Fuck."
Marcel says nothing. I can feel his gaze on the back of my neck.
"Security is watching this from the control room." I tap the screen, and the whole group leans in, trying to see over my shoulder.
I launch a small tool in the signal reader and capture the video stream. I freeze the image on a clean frame. Empty corridor, closed doors, nothing suspicious.
"So what now?" Edgar asks.
I send a command from the interface board. The camera keeps running, but the monitoring system only receives that one frozen frame.
"Now," I say, "the camera sees an empty corridor. Permanently."
I check the preview again. The image is perfectly still. Good. I close the program and unplug the network adapter. I put the cover back on the box, push the access control panel into place, and tighten the screws. The interface board and laptop go back into my backpack.
"We have a few minutes," I say quietly. "For security, this corridor looks like a static screenshot. But every screen has a small timestamp in the corner. If the minute doesn't change and someone is paying attention, they will notice something is off. So we need to move."
Edgar looks at the lab door, then at me. He says nothing, but I can see the tension in his jaw. It is obvious I proved my usefulness again while he just talked.
Marcel gives a slight nod.
"Let’s move," he says. "Great job, Gabriel. We would not manage without you." It hits me again, that rush of warmth I always get when I have his attention.
Then everything repeats. They enter the corridor first. Doors line the walls, leading to smaller labs.
They are already unlocked, so the group moves in easily and starts collecting canisters.
They begin splashing gasoline wherever they can.
I see excitement on Marcel’s face. His eyes shine as he watches the yellow liquid spread into puddles and streaks.
And right then… I feel it.
My special sense starts to activate without my control. It always happens when something intense is about to occur.
There is a pressure at the back of my head. No vision yet, but I know it is coming.
"We pull out. I’m lighting this whole place up," Marcel shouts.
I want to yell, "Wait, something’s wrong," but it is already too late. The group rushes back, abandoning the canisters, and Marcel drops a match to the floor.
"Shit," I say as the vision floods my sight.
Images overlap.
A scene from the future: I hear screams. One, two, three… seconds ticking.
My visions always come a few seconds before things actually happen. Usually five. As we move past the main doors, the fourth and fifth seconds hit me. Then… reality catches up with the vision.
This time, we all hear it. Distant cries filled with terror.
"Fuck, there are people in there!" I blurt out. Fear crashes through me so hard I almost lose consciousness. I sway and brace myself against the wall.
"Gabriel," I hear Marcel’s voice. His eyes, now cold like a bottomless ocean, lock onto mine.
"We have to go. There is nothing we can do."
"No," I say. "We can’t leave them. They will die."
I try to turn back, but Marcel grabs my shoulders.
"Focus, Gabriel. It is too late," he hisses. "A great cause sometimes requires sacrifice." There is that fanatic spark in his eyes again. That part of him that only recently intensified, the part I can't understand or share. For me, this is too far.
"Are you insane? Destroying a lab is one thing. Killing innocent people is another."
"They are not innocent. They work for Malden Pharmaceuticals. They will be sacrifices for the cause."
I blink in shock. What the hell is he talking about.
"That’s sick. You’ve lost it," I snap, even though I already know what’s coming.
Marcel raises his hand. I see the vision of what will happen, and this time I allow it. Something inside me breaks.
The blow lands on my face.
"Get it together. We’re leaving!" Marcel shouts.
Edgar lets out a short laugh. I see the looks from the others. Contempt. I press my hand against my cheek.
Behind the closed doors, the inferno roars, spreading fast. I know we cannot stay here any longer.
They all turn and start running down the stairs. But I stay frozen in place.
I am the son of a small town cop. My father spent his life helping people in our community, protecting, serving them. With painful clarity, I see what I have done. What my feelings for Marcel pushed me into. It’s too much.
The group is already one floor below. They don't look back. They just run for the exit.
But I can't make myself follow.
I pull out the building layout. I know there’s another way to reach that section. If I go one floor up, I can come around from the other side.
It means running past multiple cameras.
Which means exposure.
Sooner or later, the police will track me down.
But the question of whether I let those people die or take responsibility for what we did becomes a turning point. I’m not a monster. Destroying property is one thing. Murder is another.
My father’s blood in my veins pushes me forward.
My 5-sec precognition helps me now. It lets me anticipate sequences, avoid wrong paths before I take them. I run one floor up. The door is locked, but opening it is much faster this time.
My hands shake as I connect the devices. I focus and activate my ability. It lets me eliminate errors almost instantly. I just know which options lead nowhere and which open a path forward. Using it constantly drains me, so I cannot rely on it all the time. But this is the moment I need it most.
Thirty seconds and the door is open.
There is no time to disable the cameras. I sprint down the corridor, fully aware that security can see me now.
Even with a scarf covering my face, my presence here will matter. It will point the police in the right direction.
I reach the other end of the corridor and start opening another door.
Then I run downstairs and end up on the opposite side of the same floor, the one already on fire. The building layout shows that the lab level has an additional section, and that is where the people are. The fire hasn’t reached them yet, but it’s only a matter of minutes.
My hands shake as I connect my devices and force the door open. A thick cloud of smoke hits me, the stench of burning plastic. I cannot see anything, so I drop to my knees.
The smoke is so harsh it makes me dizzy. I press the cloth to my face and crawl forward.
I use my ability again. It helps me figure out where they are, because I know I am taking the right turns. Eventually I reach them.
They locked themselves in a small room and are trying to break a window. I can feel the temperature rising. Something crashes nearby, like a panel falling over.
I open the door.
"Come with me, I know a way out!" I shout.
I hear crying, terrified voices.
"On your knees, crawl! The smoke is thinner down low."
They follow me in a line, one after another.
Something else collapses in the corridor. The heat is unbearable now. I can barely breathe. My vision blurs.
"Hurry!" I shout, but I can feel myself about to pass out.
Something falls again and flames start licking out from the walls. Is this it?
No. Focus. The visions have to help.
They come. I know exactly what to do, where to go. Those few seconds of seeing ahead let me choose the right path every time.
Somehow, we make it back to the door I came through.
I push it open and the smoke spills into the stairwell.
Coughing, unsteady, they follow me out. Some have burns on their faces and hands, but they reach the stairs alive.
I know I cannot wait for thanks, I don't fucking deserve it.
What I have to do is to run.
As I head down, leaving them slowly making their way down the stairs, I spot two security guards near the exit, looking up the stairwell.
My face is still covered. They must think I am one of the workers.
"Did you all make it out? Thank Fate! Is everyone okay?"
Voices behind me answer them, and I use that moment to slip past and get through the open doors.
I burst out of the building and sprint toward the fence surrounding the facility, coughing as my eyes water.
Smoke stung them, but I push forward, knowing I have to put as much distance as I can between myself and that place.
One leap later, I’m over the fence and onto the street.
Glancing back, thick smoke still pours from the building, and I mutter a curse under my breath. I got out, but not far enough.
My actions have exposed us. Marcel’s airtight plan, designed so none of us would ever be caught on camera, has failed.
Still, for now all that matters is that those people made it out.
My pace slows slightly as I keep moving, eyes flicking toward the rising smoke, feeling the fucking weight of everything I’ve done pressing down. I screwed up, that's for sure.
I move like I am in a trance. Cars pass me, people pass me. I must look terrible with the mask and soot covering half my face.
Something inside me falls apart. Regret, bitterness, and despair mix together until I feel numb.
I don't know what to do. I feel like a stray dog kicked by its owner.
An hour later, only slightly better, I reach campus and my dorm.
I walk slowly with my head down, convinced everything in my life is about to change. Now it’s only a matter of time before the police come for me.
The group will probably kick me out. I failed Marcel.
I open the door to my room.
It is a paid dorm, my parents cover it. I share it with my older brother Marlow, who’s in his final year of veterinary school.