Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The massive metal door, cold and imposing, appeared to have once sealed a vault or perhaps a nuclear weapons stockpile.
It had a sense of danger about it, like whatever was behind it needed something indestructible to keep it contained.
With a deep breath, I gripped the smooth, cold handle—the chill seeping into my skin—and pulled.
Locked. Not surprised.
Next to the door, a keypad, its buttons worn from countless presses, was built into the wall. Using my sleeve, I wiped away the thick dust, revealing a dim red light emanating from the pad’s surface. “Any idea what the code is?”
“Actually, I may.” Jude bit his bottom lip as he looked at me. “This is what Michael and I were discussing while you talked with Nessa. He had cracked a code from the mainframe within Elysium, but we didn’t know what it went to. Should I try it?”
I craned my neck and nodded. “Duh!”
Jude walked to the keypad and reached into his shirt, pulling out a crumpled square of paper.
Delicately, he unfolded the fragile paper, its edges crinkling slightly as he pressed it against the tiled wall, smoothing it out before turning to the pad.
After eight precise clicks, the low red light flickered off, replaced by a reassuring blink of green.
“I…think that worked?”
No shit, Sherlock.
I pulled on the door handle, and with a loud creak, the heavy door swung outward.
The room was dark, a sickly green glow emanating from an unseen source illuminating the walls.
Stepping inside, we were met with the momentary darkness before the fluorescent lights sputtered to life.
The dim lights flickered and sputtered, their warmth slowly returning after years of disuse, casting a weak, hesitant glow.
The room, though spacious, felt smaller than it was because of the towering bookshelves lining every wall.
Books and binders were thrown around the room, each with a heavy coating of dust resting on their shoulders.
Amidst piles of papers that threatened to topple at any moment, a computer sat on a desk in the middle of the room, its brass desk lamp poised over the dusty keyboard.
“Vin, look at this.” Jude’s voice was barely a whisper as he gently lifted an ancient-looking paper from the floor.
I allowed him to call me Vinny, not Vin. Who did he think he was?
He lifted the heavy, dust-laden tapestry, revealing a meticulously detailed pencil sketch of a Dog’s exoskeleton.
Directly underneath it was another scroll-like tapestry, and when I unrolled it, details of the internals of the creature met my eyes.
Lines and arrows reached from the inside, connecting to spaces filled with words and frantic scribbles.
“This-this is a diagram of a Dog. This is how they’re made. ”
I couldn’t believe it—one of our greatest enemies’ weaknesses was scattered among a bunch of papers on the ground. The mix of disbelief and hope was almost overwhelming.
“If we already found this, what else could be hiding in here?”
“I think we’re about to find out.” I crept to the desk, the eerie green glow from the computer periodically illuminating the dusty spines of the books behind it.
Surrounding the computer, stacks of papers overflowed, their edges dog-eared and ink-stained.
Picking one up, I recognized a symbol I hadn’t seen in years—a seal from the President of the United States.
“This letter is thanking this laboratory for mass-producing the Dogs.”
Jude was looking intently at a clipboard, flipping the pages back and forth. “And this is a maintenance log. Look at the dates.”
With a flick of his wrist, he spun the board, revealing the final entry in the log, most of the ink faded but still legible.
I squinted in the flickering light, and the most recent date was a week before my birthday.
Someone was here a couple of weeks ago. The air turned heavy, as if the atmosphere was still haunted by the presence of the person who had been here prior.
I scratched my back, the noise punctuating the silence between us.
Two photographs, their edges curled and cracked from age, were taped haphazardly to the computer monitor.
A flip of the photo revealed three figures standing in a line, their arms entwined with a Dog nestled at their feet.
Their smiles, though faded with time, still shone through the photograph, although their faces were warped by age.
Crisp white lab coats were worn by all but one man, who added a touch of whimsy with a bow tie.
The other picture, taped to the bottom left of the monitor, showed a blurry image of a boy, perhaps five years old, on a rusty swing set.
Pure joy was plastered on his face as he pushed his feet outward.
A young woman with pale skin and raven-black hair stood behind the boy, her arms outstretched, head thrown back in joyous laughter.
Despite never having been in this room, I had a strange sense that I knew these people.
Maybe I was feeling nostalgic about a simpler time before the apocalypse.
It was happening more and more often as I aged.
“Who do you think they are?” Jude asked quietly.
Knowing I had to hide my thoughts, I shrugged and looked at the glowing screen of the computer, taking a second to roll my eyes at the logo that looked like fruit in the corner. “Do you even know what this is?” I laughed and looked sideways at the man next to me, bumping his shoulder with mine.
“Uh, yeah.” Jude nervously returned my laugh. “I’ve seen a bunch of them…they’ve just never worked.”
A mess of zeros and ones, interspersed with strange symbols and punctuation marks, filled the screen. Random letters were strung together, but one word caught my eye: Diagnostic. “Look.”
Jude leaned closer to the desk, scanning all the gibberish in front of us.
A sudden flash of light came from the room we just left, making me run to the doorway. A red laser scanned the Dog, who lay calmly on the table. “I-I think this computer system is what’s keeping the Dogs alive.”
“Close the door,” Jude breathed. “The computer is saying its diagnostic is at ninety percent, and I don’t want it to decide to attack us once it’s at full capacity.”
I pushed the metal door closed, hearing the satisfying click of the lock. My eyes reached Jude, whose chiseled jaw was illuminated by the green words on the screen. How was it that I felt completely safe with him? What was the reason behind the pit forming in my stomach?
“I’m positive this is the mainframe for the Dogs. When they get injured, they come back here to get fixed.”
“Let’s just smash it, then! If the computer doesn’t work, it can’t help them, right?” I grabbed the gun slung around my shoulder and pointed it at the ancient technology in front of me.
“Hold on a sec, let me see something.” He squinted, slowly shaking his head.
Extending one finger, Jude traced the cool, smooth surface of the computer, his pupils following each line of code.
His head dropped to the keyboard, the keys clicking rhythmically under his fingers.
The lines in his forehead deepened, etching themselves further into his skin as he peered at me over the monitor, his eyes wide with shock. “We can shut them down.”
His words didn’t immediately register in my mind. Could the Dogs be deactivated with a few keystrokes? Was it this easy? Jude and I were staring at each other; the same thoughts were likely running through both our heads. I nodded to him. “Let’s do it.”
“We’re going to shut down the Dogs.” His voice lightened with excitement. “We’re going to do this!”
He grabbed my hand, and a smile spread across his lips. His voice was full of promise and filled me with excitement. “I can’t believe it.” I squeezed his hand and bit my lip in anticipation. The greatest threat to both humans and vampires was about to be destroyed.
And we’re doing it. We’d be heroes.
With a few sharp clicks of the keyboard, the screen flickered, then displayed three ominous green words: Initiate Project Shutdown?
Jude pressed the arrow button, moving the green cursor over the affirmative option.
We stole one last look at each other and clicked the Enter key.
With a few violent blinks, like a dying lightbulb, the screen cut to a chaotic field of static.
“You did it, Jude!”
A voice sounded from the computer. “Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?”
My heart dropped. I knew that voice. Was it the creator of the Dogs?
“Ah! It works!” The static cleared to reveal a man in a white lab coat, his magnified eyes peering out from behind enormous, round glasses.
“You’ve opted to shut down Project G-298-001-559, also known as the Dogs.
The United States government regulates this advanced monitoring technology; therefore, there is not just one key to disable Project G.
” A Dog came into the camera frame and nuzzled the man’s arm.
“Doing so will kill an entire species, my life’s work.
I can assure you, they do much more good than harm. ”
I was shaking; my brain wouldn’t allow me to believe what I was seeing and hearing. More than one key? Where could it be?
“There are two labs that use robotics and programmed intelligence to repair injured Dogs. If you have the authority to do so and enter the correct alphanumeric code on the next screen, the Dogs that report to this lab will be disabled. If both laboratories are disabled, the Dogs will shut down permanently until my partner or I can repair the code.”
Great, so we still have to worry about Dogs and find the second location in a month before we’re free from these beasts?