by Ellis, Tripp
Steele stood up and examined the cell door, assessing it for weaknesses. He rammed his titanium fist into the locking mechanism. It didn’t budge. Then he kicked the door with all his strength. A thunderous boom echoed throughout the cellblock. But his boot didn’t so much as dent the door. This was composite metal—not even Steele’s enhanced strength could damage it. He wasn’t going to get out with brute force. The cell was solid.
Steele could already feel the pain meds starting to fade. It wouldn’t be long now and his skin would be crawling.
CHAPTER 27
WITHIN AN HOUR, Steele was on the ground twitching and convulsing. His muscles seizing up into spasms. He looked like one of the infected with their heads cut off, flopping around.
One of Raddick’s men peered through the cell’s viewport. He was a scraggly, dark haired guy, with a trucker cap on backwards and a dip of snuff in his lower lip. He grinned a wet and wide smile, exposing tobacco stained teeth. Flecks of snuff were peppered about his gums. He found the sight of Steele writhing on the ground quite amusing. “Get a load of this freak show,” he said, then spit into a red plastic cup.
Another guard pushed the first man aside in order to get a look. “I ain’t never seen nothing like that. Except that time I fucked your sister.”
“Shut the fuck up, Wade.” The man in the trucker cap said. He smacked Wade in the back of the head.
Wade flinched and rubbed his scalp. “Shit, Roy. I was just kidding.” Wade moped like a dog that had been beaten. “I’d never fuck your sister.” He paused a beat, then said, “She’s too goddamn ugly.” Wade busted out laughing and the two scrapped in the hallway, smacking each other around.
The red cup smacked the ground. Spit and smokeless tobacco splattered the floor. Roy landed a right cross to Wade’s jaw that connected with a crack.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Wade said, rubbing his jaw. “You ain’t supposed to hit that hard.”
“Walk it off.”
Wade paced about. “Asshole.”
“That will teach you to talk shit about my sister.”
“Well, I can tell you stories about your mother, but I don’t think you’d like that,” Wade said, laughing.
Roy lunged for him. But Wade sidestepped and Roy toppled to the ground. Roy sprung to his feet.
“Ease up there. I’m just kidding. Besides, we’re supposed to tell Raddick the minute he starts convulsing.”
By this point, Roy was seething. “Don’t you never say nothing about my mother.”
“Look, this bastard blew up our compound. The explosion killed Tyler, Spencer, Cody, Duke and a dozen others. We ought to be taking our frustrations out on him.”
“That’s the first sensible thing I think I’ve ever heard you say,” Roy said. “I don’t think the boss will mind if he’s roughed up a bit. As long as he ain’t dead.”
Roy moved to the door and peered through the polycarbonate window. Steele was still twitching and writhing.
Roy pulled the master keys from his pocket and jingled them into the door. He twisted the key and the latch clicked. Roy pulled the heavy door open and sauntered into the cell. He reared his leg back, and slammed his foot into Steele’s gut, kicking him repeatedly.
Steele shook on the ground, helpless.
Wade stepped into the doorway. “Shit, leave some for me.”
Roy swung his foot into Steele’s gut, damn near cracking his ribs. But this time was different. Steele grabbed Roy’s foot, and yanked his leg out from under him. Roy smacked the concrete floor—first with his body, then with the back of his skull.
Steele sprung to his feet.
Wade’s eyes went wide.
A swift kick and Steele planted his boot in Roy’s face. His cheekbones cracked and shattered. Roy wasn’t going to pose a threat to anyone anytime soon.
Wade reached for his gun.
Steele leapt over Roy’s body and grabbed Wade’s wrist. He kneed Wade in the groin, and ripped the weapon from his hand as Wade cratered. Steele chopped his elbow into the back of Wade’s neck, flattening him on the ground.
Steele bounded out of the cell and locked the two losers inside. Then he crept down the corridor. He could have gone through the fire door that led to the back stairwell, and continued up to the escape tunnel. That would be the quickest and easiest route out. But he wasn’t going to leave his gear behind. He was hurting and his skin was on fire. He still had a little while before the seizures would set in. Those would come soon enough if he didn’t get his meds.
He checked the personal effects locker room and evidence storage area. But his gear wasn’t there. It had to be somewhere, he thought. They wouldn’t just throw away his proximity mines, grenades, an RK assault rifle, and extra magazines. They had to be in the weapons locker.
Steele sprinted through A-block, past B-block, to the exit door on the opposite side of the detention area. The door led to the rest of the level. He cracked it open and peered into the corridor—empty.
He pushed through and spilled into the hallway. His eyes peered down the barrel, through the sights of Wade’s 9mm—ready to annihilate anything that came against him. He slid past the generator room. A black, acetate nameplate on the door read: Power Station. Three diesel generators were churning away. Through the door window, he saw a guard who was supposed to be monitoring the operation of the generators. But instead he was passed out in a chair, hugging an assault rifle and snoring. Steele didn’t know what time it was, but he figured it was almost midnight. If not a little later.
Steele crept down to the end of the corridor. Around the corner was the medical center. It was a bee hive of activity. Wounded were backed up into the hallway. There were many dead, covered in blankets. Many more were in the process of dying. Makeshift medical personnel scurried about, attending to the wounded as best they could. The air was filled with moans and groans. It seemed the entire facility was preoccupied with addressing the chaos that Steele had caused.
Down the hall in the opposite direction, past the food storage area, was the weapons room. Steele figured that nobody would pay him much attention if he just casually strolled down the hall. There was too much turmoil. He holstered the 9mm and stepped out into the hallway.
He was almost to the weapon supply when somebody called after him.
“Excuse me,” a woman said.
Steele cringed. He slowly turned around to face her.
“Can you give me a hand?”
Steele forced a smile and nodded.
“You have any medical experience?”
“A little.”
“That’s more than me,” she said. “Scrub up, put a gown, gloves, and mask on.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got orders—“
“I don’t care what your orders are, people are dying.”
Most of the wounded were from burns. Many were from shrapnel, or trauma from flying debris. It was a grizzly sight. Burned and blistered skin, oozing pus. If it wasn’t red and raw, it was charred black. There were gaping lacerations and meaty chucks of flesh hanging from bone. Several had lost limbs from the explosion. The facility just wasn’t equipped to deal with this many trauma victims. Most of these people were going to die. The woman was just trying to keep them comfortable and save the ones she could.
Steele scrubbed up and lent a hand where he could. He marked the ones that had no chance. He knew from plenty of experience not to waste valuable supplies on patients that had no hope. Soon, Steele was barking commands, removing shrapnel, and sewing up wounds.
“You’re pretty good at this,” the woman said.
“It’s not my first rodeo.”
“Both of the doctors were killed in the blast,” she said.
Steele didn’t respond.
The woman’s eyes gazed at the narrow strip between his surgical mask and hair cap that exposed Steele’s eyes. “I’m Lilly. What’s your name?”
“Oliver,” Steele lied.
“I haven’t seen you around before… Oliver.”
She said it like she didn’t really believe that was his name. “You must be new around here.”
Steele nodded.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.”
Steele was tying off the last of a set of stitches. His hand was beginning to shake. The withdrawals were coming on. Steele took a moment and steadied his hand.
“Are you okay?” Lilly asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a little break.”
Raddick suddenly entered the room. He surveyed the casualties, and the small team of people assisting. Steele arched away and kept his head down, trying not to expose the titanium side of his face.
Raddick stepped to him, observing the sutures Steele had just completed. “You people are doing fine work here. Just fine,” Raddick said, patting Steele on the back.
Steele nodded. Raddick was so close, Steele could smell his cheap cologne and coffee breath.
“If there is anything I can do, just let me know,” Raddick said. He glanced over the room again and left, never recognizing Steele under the surgical garb. But it wouldn’t be long before he would find Roy and Wade in the cell. Steele needed to get out of there before it was too late.
“This one’s stable,” Steele said. “Those two aren’t going to make it,” he said, pointing to the other gurneys.
Lilly nodded.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Steele stepped out of the room and into the hallway. Raddick was nowhere in sight. There were still a slew of wounded needing treatment in the corridor. But they had relatively minor injuries. The urgent care victims had already been treated, or died.
Steele marched toward the weapons room, pulling off his surgical mask and gown once inside. Rows and rows of RK 709s lined the wall. The room was full of ballistic clothing, tactical gear, and a slew of ammunition. There were grenades, RPGs, surface-to-air missiles, proximity mines. Steele wondered how Raddick was able to stockpile all of this gear. But in reality, this stuff wasn’t hard to come by—money talks on the black market.
He found his gear and blade in the corner. That rare smile of his played across his face. His mobile was still in a pocket in his tactical vest. He rummaged through his pack, but no meds. Shit. They must have taken them to the medical unit.
Steele grabbed an RK from the rack and loaded up as many magazines and grenades as he could carry. Then he ducked back into the hallway.
Lilly was standing there, waiting for him.
“You’re not part of this compound, are you?” she said. It was a dangerous move for her to make. Steele could slit her throat before she had chance to scream—and she knew it. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
“Do you have any Neuromodix?”
“What is that?”
“It’s for nerve pain.” Steele brushed passed her, into the medical unit. Lilly followed after him. Steele rummaged through the shelves and drawers.
“Is that why you’re shaking?”
Steele nodded. “It’s got pretty severe withdrawal symptoms.”
“There’s no way you would just now be withdrawing from medication. That would have happened months ago.” She moved close and whispered. “You’re from the outside, aren’t you? Beyond the wall?”
Steele nodded. There were two others in the room, attending to the wounded. They were starting to take notice.
Steele went through every nook and cranny, but couldn’t find any Neuromodix. He marched into the hallway. Lilly trailed behind.
“I assume you are responsible for all of this?”
“The way I see it, it’s Raddick’s fault. I had to get my people out.”
Her face tightened. Torn with conflict. Angry at Steele for the destruction he had caused. Angry at Raddick for the injustice he perpetuated. She took a moment and settled herself.
“Do you have a way out?” Lilly asked. Her voice was slightly hopeful. Though she tried to hide it.
“I did, until Raddick had my CAV shot down. Look, you seem like a nice, level headed person. You can’t condone what Raddick is doing here?”
“Raddick provides for us. It’s here, or out there,” Lilly said, sheepishly. “That’s not much of a choice.”
He could see in her eyes that she was desperate to get out, but something was holding her back.
“I’ll take you out with me if you want to go,” Steele said. “But I’m leaving now.”
“I can’t just leave. My husband is here, and he believes in what Raddick is doing.”
“He believes in kidnapping and enslavement?”
“No, of course not. But the end is coming. For everyone.”
“Maybe so,” Steele said.
They stared at each other a moment. Lilly’s face was pensive. A debate raged behind her eyes.
“Are you sure you want to stay here?”
“No,” she said. “But I just can’t go.”
“Do yourself a favor,” Steele said. “Stay clear of the detention center.”
Lilly nodded.
An alarm sounded, blaring through the compound. Raddick had found that Steele was missing. It was time to go.
Steele slipped away down the hall, moving back toward the detention center. Wade burst through the door that led into the hallway from B-block. Raddick must have let him out of the cell. Roy was nowhere to be seen, but as hard as Steele had kicked him, he was probably dead.
Wade aimed his weapon, firing at Steele. But he wasn’t a very good shot. The bullet ripped through the sheetrock to the right of Steele’s head.
Before Wade squeeze off a second shot, Steele blasted a few rounds from his newly acquired RK 709. The bullets tore through his chest, spurting blood. Wade fell back against the wall, collapsing on the floor. Blood smeared down the wall. His chest wound was sucking and gurgling as he gasped for his last breath. Steele was much better at inflicting wounds than treating them.
Steele pushed through the metal door into B-block. He locked the door behind him and placed a proximity mine. Anyone who made it through that door was going to be in for a rude awakening. The proximity mine flashed from green to red, fully armed.
Steele darted back down the hallway toward the north stairwell. As he passed A-block, several shots rang out. One of the rounds grazed his shoulder, knocking him off-balance. He tumbled to the ground, then quickly scrambled to his feet.
Steele crawled to the corner and peered around at his assailant. He saw several more muzzle flashes and heard bullets zip by his ear. Raddick was down the A-block hallway.
“You’re starting to get on my bad side, son,” Raddick yelled.
“You’re already on mine,” Steele called back.
Raddick was in the doorframe of cell A-21, using it for cover.
Steele lobbed a thermal grenade down the hallway. He ducked and covered his ears.
KABOOM!
The grenade exploded. The entire cellblock rumbled. Bits of concrete and debris sprayed the area. But Raddick was still alive. He had managed to pull the cell door shut, protecting him from the blast.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Raddick shouted.
Steele had Raddick pinned down in the cell block. But this cat and mouse game couldn’t go on all night long. It wouldn’t be long before Raddick’s men would get through the door in B-block. The proximity mine would stop the first round of them. But after that, Steele would be fighting foes on two fronts. And he needed to rendezvous with Parker and the others. As much as Steele wanted to kill Raddick, he was going to have to let this one slide for the moment.
There was a three or four second delay from the time you clicked the button, until the time the proximity mine was fully armed. If Steele played his cards right, he might be able to get that bastard. He lobbed another thermal grenade. It clattered against the floor, tumbling down the hallway. Steele heard Raddick pull the cell door shut again.
KABOOM!
The grenade blast shook the foundation. Clouds of debris scattered. Steele immediately clicked the arm button on a proximity mine an
d rolled it toward the cell. With any luck, it would fully arm and calibrate before Raddick opened the cell door again. In doing so, he’d sign his own death warrant. The device would trigger from the motion of the door and the movement of Raddick himself.
Steele waited a few moments. But the mine didn’t blow. He peered around the corner. Steele could barely see Raddick’s face. It was pressed against the polycarbonate cell window, eyeballing the mine. Raddick wasn’t as dumb as he looked. But at least he wasn’t getting out of that cell anytime soon. Not until his men could neutralize the mine.
Steele sprung to his feet and dashed through the fire door, and into the stairwell. It was still littered with infected corpses. The twitching had subsided somewhat. But they were still undulating like an ocean of the undead.
Raddick’s men still hadn’t broken through the welded fire doors on level 1 and 2. Steele scaled the staircase and escaped through the tunnel. He headed west, then south, then followed the railroad tracks. The rain had stopped and the moon was barely poking through the clouds.
He needed to get back to Xavier’s and regroup with the others. Reassess the situation and formulate a new plan. He wasn’t giving up on Delroy and Xavier, but at this point he needed better intel.
Steele ducked into an alleyway and sat against the side of a brick building. He took his pack and tactical gear off and opened his shirt. He exposed his shoulder that had been shot. The bullet had grazed his deltoid. The wound was crusted and caked with blood, and his arm was stained crimson red.
He pulled his med-kit from his pack and began to clean and disinfect the wound. The bullet had barely nicked him, carving a narrow channel out of his meaty deltoid. Once it was clean and free of debris, he covered the wound with a regenerative skin gel. It would not only serve as a protective barrier, but also promote tissue regrowth. It would more than double the rate of healing.
When he finished, he loaded his gear and headed out. Within thirty minutes, he was descending the staircase to Xavier’s basement on Gleason Street. But the basement was empty. There was no one there. And all the titrillium was gone.