3. 3
Elias fired a single shot into the center of its forehead and it entered a frenzy. Arms swinging and legs kicking, it destroyed the structural integrity of the ductwork and all three of us toppled to the floor of the dark room below us.
I hit the ground hard, flat on my back, and I lost the laptop in the process.
It cracked against the floor, only inches from my outstretched hand.
Elias did not hesitate, despite the force in which he hit the concrete, and using his flashlight as a weapon, he bashed in the skull of the creature until it stilled.
Blood sprayed over us, and I shut my eyes tightly as I remembered his warning about the blood intermingling with our own.
Also, it was gruesome as fuck. Each swing of his arm resulted in wetter and wetter noises, the bones of the mutant’s head no longer putting up a fight.
When he was finished, he squatted, leaning forward on his hand. “Goddamn, that knocked the wind out of me.”
“You could’ve fooled me,” I said, in awe of the horror scene at my feet.
“Sorry about that,” he panted. “If you can, it’s best to conserve ammunition. Write that down.” He groaned as he stood, holding his back with his free, slightly less bloodied hand. He stretched and turned to me, offering the cleaner hand. With his assistance, I stood on my own two feet once more.
He shined his flashlight on the mangled laptop.
“I didn’t mean to let go. I think I was just surprised,” I admitted.
“No worries,” he shrugged. “If we can’t fix it, we still have the hard drive. We’ll still take it with us.”
“I’m pretty sure they use SSD’s. Hard drives are pretty outdated, and fail far more often.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to correct him.
“Whatever, Miss Solid State Semantics.”
He whipped his light around, piecing together where we were. My eyes tried to keep up with his, but it was impossible to follow where he’d be looking next. It was clear that we were in a supply closet though, judging by the small size of the room and the walls lined with metal shelving units.
“Not bad, not bad,” he murmured, putting the flashlight between his chin and shoulder. His free hands scoured the shelves, looking for anything useful.
“What are we going to do now?” I asked.
“Well,” he started, hands working. “We steal as much as we need and get out by any means necessary.”
“That’s the part I’m wondering about. How are we supposed to get out of this room?” I couldn’t access the directory through my laptop anymore, and the vents were on the floor with us.
“Storage closets aren’t locked down like laboratories are,” he answered, tossing me a back pack. “Put the laptop in this.”
“The door isn’t locked? Then why did you say it like that? ‘By any means necessary.’”
“Dramatic effect, mostly,” he grinned.
“Here I am, thinking you’re some savior genius, sent by the gods, but in reality we just get lucky that we fall into a room where we can just walk right out the door.”
He hit me lightly on the shoulder. “You’ve got to take the blessings as they come. This night is far from over.”
“Alright.” It was all I managed to say before snapping my mouth shut. Now was not the time to get an attitude. After all, he had kept me alive thus far.
I shoved the laptop into the back pack, as well as a towel, screwdriver, and other necessities he tossed to me.
“This will be enough for now. You good carrying that?” He asked. He must’ve seen me wince as I put the strap on my shoulder. It was tender from the fall, but I didn’t think I had taken any serious damage.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little sore.”
He smiled. “Good girl.” My stomach did a little flip at his words, though I knew he really was trying to be encouraging. It wasn’t my fault that his praise sounded so. . . the way it sounded. “Stay quiet and stay behind me. Let’s go.”
Before he opened the door, he shut his Maglite off and pulled his gun from its holster, holding it close.
His head peaked out into the hallway, looking left and right before motioning for me to follow.
He took off somewhere between a walk and a jog, keeping his steps near silent.
I would’ve preferred a walk, as I was having trouble keeping my feet as light as his.
Emergency lights illuminated the pristine hallways. White tile, white paint, red light. Not that the building was typically lively, but it was eerie without a sound beyond our own breath and my clumsy footsteps.
As someone who didn’t run laps for fun, I found myself short of breath as we half-jogged toward the stairwell.
The hallway wasn’t particularly long, but it was long enough.
As safety became more of a reality, watching the doorway get closer and closer, the nagging need for a cigarette bounced around in my brain.
Hopefully we could break into my car and take the pack out of my center console.
I lagged behind, not purposely, and Elias took notice as the patter of my footsteps slowed in the background.
“Push, Cassia. We’re almost there,” he whispered. His encouragement helped, but I didn’t reach my original speed. He slowed down to keep close to me, just enough to keep me driving my legs forward.
His arms were locked in place, holding his gun upward with both of his hands, finger flat along the trigger guard. Though his head stayed in place, I knew he was scanning the area, left to right and back again. Steps even and form pristine, he glided down the hallway with ease.
The doorway to the stairwell was unlocked, and he kept a brisk pace as he descended the stairs. This task was far more difficult for me, as the shock caused my legs to shake, exacerbated by our downward trajectory.
A large yellow three was painted on the wall, indicating that we were still on the third floor. As we approached the second, I stumbled on the last step, and fell onto the landing. A traction mat padded my fall, protecting the skin on my hands and knees from breaking open.
Naturally, Elias ran back up the steps and helped me up, offering an arm for stability.
“You’re okay,” he said, patting my back.
Tears welled in my eyes, the false security of the moment allowing my emotions to bubble up. “My entire body is like jell-o, I’m not cut out for this.”
“That out of shape, huh?”
I pushed his arm away. “First of all, asshole, I’m pretty sure it’s the adrenaline. Second, I’m a scientist. Not a cop.”
“I was just teasing you, but to call me a cop is too far.” He shook his head in disgust. “I should set you back down.”
“What, you don’t like your brothers in blue?”
“No, Cassie, I don’t. Not only am I a minority, but I was in the military, and I currently work for the federal government. Obviously I don’t like the fucking cops.”
“Interesting,” I trailed off, letting the sensitive subject die. “Here’s a question for you. Why do you call me both Cassia and Cassie?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess it just depends on if Elias the person is talking to you, or if Elias the agent is ordering you around. Does it bother you?”
“I was just curious.”
A door opened a few floors above us, and I was pulled forward before it had the chance to slam closed.
Elias’s hand gripped my wrist, nearly yanking my arm out of its socket, and dragged me down the next two flights of stairs. I protested but was met with a weak “shh,” so I focused on ensuring my legs kept me upright.
Rather than take the door in front of us at the base of the stairs, we took a left and went through another door, with another flight of stairs. I had used them before while the elevator was being serviced, and recognized them as the entrance to the parking garage.
When we reached the door, Elias released his death grip on my arm and began to sprint toward the entrance.
My legs pushed me forward as quickly as they could, but my speed couldn’t compare to his.
I felt my knees falter as each foot hit the ground, but I knew my life depended on the integrity of my joints, and I had to grit my teeth to keep going.
The nature of the experiments and research that Baker and Pryor conducted led to a high standard of security, so naturally, there was only one entrance into the garage.
Typically, a security officer would man the gate, checking the credentials of each person in the vehicle before they were permitted to enter.
Elias stopped short of the gate, looking around for the officer that had abandoned his post. He sighed, his hands low on his hips. “I’m starting to get pissed off now.”
“Where’s your car?” I asked, examining the cars around us, trying to guess what an undercover agent would drive. Something nondescript, something cheap. An aged sedan was a safe bet, but I really hoped it was a mini van.
“Down the street.”
“Why wouldn’t you park in the garage?” I asked.
“In case of emergencies. If everyone was trying to leave at once, it would be chaos,” he answered.
“What an exhausting way to live, constantly preparing for the worst case scenario.” Anxiety led to a lot of doomsday preppers, but this was something else entirely. Extreme anxiety?
“I’m used to it. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve kept both of us alive thanks to my aptitude for preparedness.” He waved around his gun to make his point.
My stomach dropped as I appraised the gate in front of us. The only way through was over, and there was no way in hell that my ass was climbing a ten foot fence, conveniently topped with barbed wire.
“Please tell me you aren’t going to make me climb that fence.”
He scoffed. “I’m not risking getting cut by the barbed wire unless we have no other option. I’ll hot wire a car and drive through it first.”
“That’s a good idea, why don’t we just do that?” I asked, turning toward the nearest car.
“Breaking in would set off the car alarm and every infected person would know where we are. If you haven’t noticed, I have one gun and one magazine. Seven fit in the mag, one fits in the chamber,” he said. “Have you been keeping count? There’s going to have to be another way.”
Resigned to another difficult hour of my life, I groaned. “I need a cigarette.”
Elias feigned horror. “Tsk, tsk, Cassia, smoking is bad for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just come with me to my car, it isn’t far.”
“You have your keys with you?” He asked.
“Fuck me,” I whisper yelled, stomping my foot, hands balling into fists.
“Bit busy right now.”
I sulked away, choosing to inspect the security booth.
A powered down computer sat on the small desk. I pressed the power button but it didn’t respond. I didn’t expect it to, but it was worth a try. Both desk drawers were locked, and a single coat hung on a rack in the corner. Elias didn’t stray far, choosing to check the handles of nearby cars.
I poked my head out of the booth and asked. “Can you pop these desk drawers open?”
He nodded, joining me in the small space.
Setting his gun on the desk, he leaned down to remove his knife from its position near his ankle.
Rather than attempt to pick the lock, a more tedious process, he opted to use his knife like a lever, and break the locking mechanism completely by forcing the drawer open.
A more sophisticated lock would require more sophisticated means of breaking and entering, but this was a cheap desk with shitty locks.
A quick jerk of his arm and both drawers opened right up. I admired him as he worked, digging through the contents of the desk, and resisted the urge to wipe away the sweat beading on his forehead, threatening to fall into his eyes.
While he searched through the right drawer, I peaked into the left. Papers, gum, staples and random bits of trash took up the majority of the storage space, but a single car key was left behind. I swiped it and presented it to Elias like it was a prize.
“Nice,” he said, snatching it from my hands and turning on his heels. Like he knew exactly where he was going, he bee-lined to an old Ford Econoline parked in the corner. I fought to keep up.
He used the key to open the back of the van and smiled brightly at the stock pile of tools on the inside. “How’d you know it was this one?” I asked.
“Look at the key fob,” he said, holding it up for me.
“That tells me nothing other than it’s a Ford. This garage has hundreds of cars in it.”
“ I, uh, just know what he drives,” he admitted.
“Of course you do.”
Elias searched through the van gingerly, careful not to make too much noise, until he found a hefty pair of wire cutters. Stepping out of the van, he opted to leave the door open, simply turning his back to the vehicle.
“You ever shoot a gun before?
I nodded.
In his hands was a small pistol. “Take it,” he ordered. “It’s loaded. Not full, but there’s a few rounds in there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Should I not be?” He countered.
“No, it’s fine. I’m not a bad shot.” I took the pistol, and checked the magazine. He was right. It was loaded.
Elias abandoned the van, setting his aim on the fence locking us in. Out of habit, I slammed the van door shut without thinking.
Big mistake.
I heard the others before I saw them.