The man who had been felled by the chair staggered up to his feet bleeding from his nose and mouth. He spotted his gun just beyond Stone’s feet as Stone was beginning to rise off the floor but didn’t think he had a chance of reaching it without opening himself up to a counter-attack. Instead, he rushed the short distance to attack Stone from behind.
The other man, temporarily distracted by the backlash of the pistol’s shot, paused a moment before preparing to fire again.
As quick as a breath Stone ducked as a roundhouse fist came at the side of his face from his rear, then deftly reached behind, grabbed his assailant, and flipped him over his shoulder hurling him into the other assailant. The two of them sailed backward. The pistol discharged blowing a hole in the ceiling knocking loose big chunks of concrete to fall on the heads of the already dazed men pushing them over the line to a more complete concussive state.
Stone turned to face the computer he was just sitting at. The virus had been started, but with the anti-virus programs and other safeguards that the others had installed, it might take a while for the system to begin to break down. He had tried to release the cell doors, but a direct attack proved fruitless. It would take the end of the first phase of the virus to destroy the restraints that were holding the doors closed.
Stone had begun to help Walter to his feet when the sound of a single gunshot rang from the short hallway off the control room.
“I’ve planted a virus in their system,” Stone began, “but their safeguards are so convoluted that I can’t say with a certainty what’s going to happen. I think it best that we get out of here.”
Walter groaned and brought a hand up to his head. “I’m okay,” he said sardonically. “Thanks for asking.”
“Sure,” Stone answered, not sure of what Walter was talking about. “I need to find Candace,” he continued. “That gunshot was not a good sign.”
“Okay,” Walter groaned. “Let’s go.”
“No. You’re in no condition,” Stone said. “Go back the way we came. To the cells. Hopefully the virus will have been effective by the time you reach them. If so the doors should be open. I feel certain the man called Hands won’t mind you staying with him till we get back.”
“I’m okay. I just…”
“No,” Stone said. “You’re not. Please.”
“Okay,” Walter acquiesced. Reluctantly he turned and headed out the control room door.
CHAPTER 39
Mira moved cautiously along the edge of the shadows watching the two men pushing through the hallway door. She wanted to go after them, but her healing wasn’t complete. The bullet that Bass had fired had passed through the edge of her stomach just above her hip. It had brought her to her knees. But not before she had fired at the other agent crossing the hallway.
Her healing power wasn’t nearly as quick as Byron’s, but it was enough to keep her from being incapacitated.
She had fired the second shot from her knees. It took all the strength she had, but she needed to stop them. She was not about to let them ruin everything they had worked for.
As she moved closer to the door, she heard the blast of a single gunshot. She clenched her teeth as a burst of anger rushed through her body. It seemed the intruders were fighting back. That was not a good sign. She had thought that they could have been taken dead or alive with little resistance. She was wrong. She felt fortunate, however, that the entire place hadn’t blown up. Though the building had been constructed to keep out unwanted vapors her people had removed some of the ductwork from the roof to get inside the building weakening the safety of the structure.
She quickly called for reinforcements fearful that her people had failed.
She had a bad feeling about her men. If they had been successful she should have heard from them by now. That was why she had made a call for reinforcements for anyone left upstairs in the mansion who could be spared. Until they arrived, or her men had proved successful, she would have to do what she could.
She moved out of the darkness toward the door on the opposite side of the hallway. She couldn’t wait for a complete healing. It was taking too long. The bullet that had struck her had done some real damage.
She sidled the corridor wall till she was directly across from the door James and Bass had entered. She aimed her weapon and fired at the door.
CHAPTER 40
Mira’s blast from her gun suddenly slammed heavily into the hallway door whipping deep cracks all along the frame and sending a hard, almost solid sound reverberating down the hallway.
As if on cue with the blast Bass abruptly slumped downward as the strength in his legs gave way. James tightened his grip on Bass’s arm to hold him up, but his weight was almost too much for him and he nearly lost him. Then Candace was at his other side helping to keep him upright.
“Thanks,” James said.
“Not a problem,” Candace answered.
James noted the door on the side only a few feet from them. “You need to sit this one out, buddy,” he said to Bass. “Get out of the line of fire for a while.” He started angling him toward the door.
“Yeah,” Bass answered in a weak voice. “Just a short breather.”
Just as they reached the door a second blast hit blowing the metal door off its hinges sending it airborne flipping end over end past them and down the short hallway.
The attacker who had been on his knees had risen to his feet when he saw James distracted by Bass’s impairment. It was only moments before the door cartwheeled into him folding him backward slapping him across the concrete floor.
James and Candace helped Bass to sit down against the wall just inside the room. Then they stepped back into the edge of the hallway and closed the door.
The door was gone leaving a big open spot. Fortunately, the hallway door was set center ways of the wall giving them a small area that could not be seen when looked directly at from outside the corridor.
Candace suddenly dove for her gun, not waiting for Mira to come for them. It had settled near the center of the hallway where she had lost it during the attack of the two assailants. She grabbed it with one hand and rolled over to the wall. She ended up on her side facing out into the central corridor from which the blasts had come. Immediately she spotted Mira rushing at them, the funny looking gun pressed ahead of her. Candace fired several times no longer considering the threat of explosion that the Hands had warned them about.
Mira darted to one side in a blur, in a move that seemed preternatural. Candace wasn’t sure if any of her shots had landed.
James had pointed his weapon at the exposed opening into the corridor, but never got a shot off. The actions of Candace and Mira had unfolded so quickly that in his current condition he couldn’t react in time.
Candace crawled to the edge of the door-less frame. The wall to the side of the frame gave her some protection. She peered out into the corridor watching for any kind of movement but from her vantage point she couldn’t make out the entire area. She didn’t see any movement but was afraid to move any closer and put herself in a more vulnerable position.
James squatted to make himself a smaller target. After seeing the speed of Mira, he too was afraid to move from his relatively safe spot.
CHAPTER 41
Hearing the activity in the hallway had unnerved Bass. He knew that he was in no condition to put up a fight if any of these aliens should decide to come in here. He needed to put a little distance between himself and the hall and perhaps find a place to hide until he was strong enough to adequately defend himself.
He didn’t feel as if he had the power to stand, but he had to try. When he pushed himself up to his knees the world went dark momentarily, and he knew then that he would never make it to his feet by himself. Resigned to go at this differently he gathered what strength he could and began to crawl.
He was exhausted as though he had run a marathon. He had started breathing in short, shallow breaths. He couldn’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. He felt as if
he were crawling up a long, steep staircase. His ribs as well were aching with every ragged inhalation and staggered movement. He was tired. So tired. So very tired. He wanted desperately to stop. To rest. To sleep. He was afraid to stop, though. Afraid that if he wouldn’t be able to get started again. So, he continued, pulling and crawling across the floor.
Ahead of him green LED lights glimmered and reflected off the stainless-steel containers housed adjacent to them. When he bumped into the metal leg of a long table at the center of the room he began to think about where he was. The table was stainless steel, like something that would be found in a medical facility. The room was decidedly cooler than anywhere else they had been to in the cave. Again, a factor often found in a medical facility. He looked more closely at the LED lights. He could discern faint lines to the right of each light. The lines were long and rectangular like oversized filing cabinets. A great place to store bodies. He understood where he was. He was in their local morgue.
A thought struck him, shaking him to the core. This must be where Darren is. His lifeless body stuck inside a cold, dark box. A mixture of nausea and dizziness struck him at once and he was sure he was about to collapse, or throw up, or both. Luckily neither happened. Somehow, he was able to gain some semblance of control.
He wasn’t sure he could take seeing Darren again. Not like this. But he had to. He hadn’t said goodbye to him. He needed to. For closure.
He had an obligation to Darren. Darren didn’t need to be in this place. He needed to be taken home to his family. He had to be certain this happened. Perhaps he couldn’t get him now, but he could keep him company until the others came for them.
He finally made it across the seemingly endless length of the room, halting just in front of the storage cabinet for the deceased.
Next to each of the tiny green LED lights that marked one of the slots was a place to put a name. All of them were blank except two. One of them had Marissa Slaiter written in the space. The other one only had a number. That would be Darren. He would only be a number to them and nothing more.
He was relieved to find that Darren had been stored in the bottom drawer. If he had been in any but the bottom two drawers, he might not have been able to get to him. Luckily, he didn’t have to wrestle with opening the drawer either. Positioned just under the little green light was a push button. He pressed it.
The drawer rumbled as a small motor was set into gear then began to slide free of the steel cabinet.
Darren came out feet first. He was in the same clothes he had been in when … Bass couldn’t finish that thought.
Darren’s face was too pale. He didn’t seem real. He looked more like a store mannequin. At once Bass began to cry and fell weeping over top of him.
Memories of Darren came to him like a dream. He saw their first meeting—not exactly a friendly encounter—as if he were disconnected, watching the episode unfold before him from a distance.
It was the first day of football practice. No one dressed in pads. It was an informal workout that consisted of running laps, listening to motivational speeches, and rehearsing plays while playing a little flag football.
He and Darren were matched against each other on the line. Darren was offense and he was defense. It was just supposed to be a friendly game. They were to run some plays, get used to the movements, figure out the basics of their position. There wasn’t to be any serious contact.
In this surreal state, he could see himself psyched up, pumped, ready to go. Standing there cocky like some giant rooster. He was determined to get to the quarterback. To prove something to himself and the coach. No one was going to stand in his way.
As soon as the ball was hiked, he rushed as hard as he could swinging his big arms at Darren’s head and shoulder intending to knock him out of the way, or flat on his back, whichever it took.
Darren didn’t give way very easy. He held him up for several moments before a stiff right forearm caught him across the left side of his face dropping him to his knees.
He tried to bolt past Darren, toward a halfback that was rushing wide around his end, but two hands reached out and grabbed his left ankle. He fell watching the halfback disappear around the corner and out of sight. He caught himself on his outstretched hands with Darren still clinging tenaciously to his leg.
Detached from this part of his past Bass watched himself twist free from Darren’s grip and scramble up to his feet. Darren got to his feet a second later.
Bass watched the fistfight between them ensue before his eyes as if he were watching a movie of his life. They both got in some good punches, but neither of them was knocked off their feet, before the coach ran over to them and roughly pushed them apart.
“What the hell are you two doing?!” the coach shouted. “This is supposed to be a football practice, not a damn street brawl!”
“But coach, he …” Darren started.
“I don’t care,” the coach said angrily. “I can’t have this on my field. We do not fight among ourselves.” He was silent a moment, fuming. “According to the school’s no-tolerance policy, you should both be expelled for this.” Again, he was silent. After a few tense moments, he spoke again. “You two hit the showers. I didn’t see anything. But next time you’re both suspended from school and off the team. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” they both answered.
“Now, shake hands.”
Reluctantly, they shook hands.
“Now, get out of here.”
They walked away in silence for the first minute then Bass spoke.
“We almost screwed that up, huh?”
“We? Man, you started it.”
Bass smiled. “Yeah, I guess I did. Sometimes I get a little competitive.”
Darren grunted. “Just consider yourself lucky.”
“How’s that?”
“If you weren’t bigger and stronger than me, I would have kicked your butt all over that field.”
Bass laughed.
Then the dream was gone and for a fleeting moment, he felt himself falling into an abyss of desolation. But at once his overwhelming sadness lifted when he saw Darren walking up to him.
CHAPTER 42
Stone burst into the short hallway from the control room. “Let’s go,” he commanded.
Candace turned quickly. “Stone don’t …!”
Mira suddenly appeared in the corridor directly ahead of him.
Stone raised his left arm quickly as though to ward off any blows that might be coming his way. Mira hesitated. She seemed to want to savor this moment. The moment she would rid themselves of this chief troublemaker. Or, perhaps, she was simply deciding if it were possible to take him alive so they could find out what he knew. In the end, she decided to just eliminate him and pulled the trigger.
It clicked, but nothing happened. Stone had done something. She didn’t know what, but she was sure of it. She tried again to make sure that this wasn’t just some kind of coincidence. It clicked again, but this time the big barrel blew up, shooting a cascade of sparks, and spewing black smoke into the air. Mira dropped her weapon, not so much from the sparks and smoke, but because the gun itself had suddenly gotten too hot to hold. She darted back out of view.
“Let’s go,” Stone said to Candace while eyeing James who stood by the room door.
“We have to get someone first,” Candace said, and rushed over to James. James opened the door to the morgue.
Stone looked puzzled but said, “Okay, but hurry.”
Flipping on the light switch James instantly saw Bass leaning over one of the metal drawers. He felt his stomach drop. He had a bad feeling about this. He wanted to run, but suddenly his legs felt like molded gelatin.
“Are you alright?” Candace asked as she placed a hand on his shoulders.
He nodded but didn’t look okay.
“You stay here,” Candace said. “I’ll check on …”
“No,’ he blurted out. He forced himself to move. “I need to go to him.”
“
Sure,” she answered. She reached out to take his arm, but he waved her off.
“I’m okay,” he said.
She nodded, then together they moved slowly over to where Bass lay.
James looked down. “The one in the drawer,” he began in a low voice, “was another agent of mine.” He swallowed hard. “He was killed by some kind of ungodly creature.” He shook his head and became quiet.
Candace wanted to ask about this creature he spoke of but decided this was not the time. She would wait until he was ready to talk about it.
“Bass,” James called softly.
He didn’t respond.
James squatted down beside him. He spoke his name again. Still no response. He gently rolled him over onto his side. Bass’s eyes were closed, his body slack. James already knew it, but he had to be certain. He placed an index finger on his neck searching for a carotid pulse. After a couple of minutes, he gave up. Bass was dead.
James’s eyes watered. As he stood up the warm tears began to slowly roll down his cheeks. He swallowed hard then wiped his eyes.
“They were my men and I couldn’t save them.”
For a couple of tense moments, Candace was lost for words.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, but the words sounded weak and inadequate.
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You couldn’t help it. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
He tried to affect a smile but failed miserably.
“I ought to …” He looked down at the two agents lying lifeless before him. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave them.”
“Maybe we can carry …”
“No,” James said suddenly pulling himself together. “We can’t. When we get out of here … If we get out of here. I’ll send back a crew of agents to pick them up.”
Candace looked down at the two bodies. She had just met Bass briefly a few minutes ago, and Darren not at all, but she still couldn’t stop the deep sadness that welled up inside her, nor the tears that began to fill her eyes. “There’s another empty drawer above Darren that we can. place him in,” James said, struggling with the words. “Till I can properly put him to rest. I think …” He had to pause a moment to fight back an onslaught of tears. “I think it appropriate that he be near Darren.” He knelt, along with Candace, to lift the body.
The Nexus Page 22