by G J Ogden
Everyone turned to look at the faded layout diagram on the wall behind them.
“We need brains and brawn on this endeavor, and thankfully, I brought the former,” Gaia added, smiling.
The hermit laughed. “Well, that’s handy, lass, because I have neither!”
Ethan slipped between them and moved to the front, “Excuse me, brawn coming through…”
They followed the route described by Gaia, but as they moved further into the internal sections, the corridors darkened and so did the mood of the group. They moved in silence, punctuated only by the clack of their boots on the hard floor and the eerie drip, drip, drip of water leaking in from some invisible location ahead. Ethan reached the stairs and began to ascend, followed a few paces behind by Yuna who carried her powerful bolt-thrower raised at waist level. Ethan arched his neck to peer out into the wide, open corridor at the top of the stairs, which was bordered on either side by floor-to-ceiling glass-walled workspaces, filled with a diverse range of equipment. There was more light on this level, flowing in from the glass outer-walls, but the material was heavily tinted and so it was no brighter than a cloudy winter morning when the sun had just peeked over the horizon.
Ethan reached the top and carefully swept the barrel of his bolt-thrower up and down the length of the corridor and into the laboratory spaces immediately to his sides, but he could see nothing but dusty old equipment. Yuna was close behind; she met Ethan’s eyes briefly and was comforted by the reassuring nod she received in return. They waited until Gaia, the hermit and finally Summer had finished climbing the stairs and then Ethan pointed his finger into the gloom, indicating the direction in which they needed to go.
The silence was almost painful, but half-way along the corridor Ethan heard a sharp sound, which was more penetrating in his ears than a hundred shattering plates. He stopped and held up a hand to the others.
“What’s up?” whispered Yuna.
“I heard something. I don’t know what. Cover me, while I check it out.”
“Be careful Ethan!” urged Yuna in a hushed voice, as Ethan slipped ahead, raising the bolt-thrower to chest level and placing his finger on the trigger.
Ethan stayed close to the wall and moved up to the junction where Gaia had said for them to turn right. His steps were slow and measured, but his heart was beating like he’d just sprinted from one side of Forest Gate to the other. He stopped at the junction and pressed himself back against the glass wall, before carefully peering around the corner; what he saw made his pulse accelerate further. Huddled in the darkness, as immobile as rocks, were two figures. A narrow column of light shone in from a fracture in the ceiling and was reflected in the inky black eyes of the closest figure. Even if Ethan could have made out nothing else about them, this alone was enough to confirm his fears that they were both maddened. He drew back and peered over towards Yuna, who had dropped to a crouching position to cover him. When he knew she was watching, he held up two fingers and then pointed towards the corridor.
Yuna nodded and stood, getting ready to attack, but she had taken no more than two steps forward before the glass wall behind Ethan shattered, and blackened hands grasped his shoulders, dragging him through the shower of thick glass fragments and into the darkness of the space beyond.
Ethan let go of the bolt-thrower, which dropped heavily to the solid floor, snapping into two equal pieces, and instinctively reached up to grab his attacker’s cold, bony hands as they closed around his neck. He flailed and twisted, but couldn’t break free, then he was thrown to the side as easily as a discarded apple core. He felt himself weightless for a split second before crashing into a row of cabinets. Dazed and disorientated, he got to his feet and found himself staring into the dead eyes of one of the maddened; eyes that he had only seen this close once before. Terrified, he reached for his knife, but it wasn’t there. Outside of the room he could hear shouts and screams and the powerful pneumatic thud of a bolt-thrower firing. Panicked, he tried to draw his short-staff, but fumbled and struggled to release it from its sheath. The creature charged him, and Ethan flung himself over the top of a desk in a desperate attempt to evade the attack, landing heavily against the outer glass wall, beyond which was the cold, glassy lake.
He rose, still groggy, and struggled with the short-staff again, finally releasing it as his attacker grabbed the corner of the desk and tossed it to the side as if it weighed nothing. With the familiar feel of the short-staff in his hands, and the adrenalin coursing through his veins, Ethan’s instincts took over. This was not the first time he had faced one of these things, nor the first time he’d had to fight for his life; he knew he had to commit everything to the attack, and show no quarter, or he would be dead in seconds.
The thing charged towards him, and Ethan met it head-on, striking the staff across its skull and sending it crashing to his side. It rose almost instantly as Ethan swung at it again, but this time it was not deflected, and Ethan was thumped hard in the chest and then pressed back against the opaque wall, with the creature’s claw-like hands closing around his shoulders like a vice. He screamed and grabbed its wrists, trying desperately to break the hold, but the creature was inhumanly strong, and slowly it pulled itself closer so that its oily face was almost touching Ethan’s. Desperation took hold, and Ethan hooked its leg and kicked back with all his strength, sending it onto its back, but still it did not release its hold, pulling Ethan on top of it, and driving the needle-like fingers deeper into his flesh. He scoured the floor for anything he could use as a weapon, and saw a broken and splintered wooden chair leg tantalizingly out of reach. He let go of the enemy’s wrists, allowing it to slip its fingers around his throat, and stretched for the chair leg. He could feel the claw-like nails pressing into his flesh and as the creature’s hold tightened, he managed to grasp the improvised weapon and plunge it into its hideous face. He felt the fingers around his neck loosen, allowing him to draw a deep breath, providing enough fuel to his muscles to drive the wooden shard deeper into its skull, through the eye socket and into the brain, pressing with all his strength and all his weight, until the creature finally lay still. Coughing and wheezing, with all his muscles trembling uncontrollably, he rolled to the side and just lay on his back, staring at the plain gray ceiling tiles of the lab.
“Ethan!”
He tried to answer, but was unable to speak.
Summer slid to her knees at his side and practically fell on top of him. “Ethan! Say something!”
“I’m okay…” said Ethan, weakly grasping Summer’s wrist to offer some encouragement. His shoulders burned and the adrenalin was wearing off, leaving him with a weak, sickly feeling in his stomach.
Summer’s eye narrowed and her lips pursed tightly together, and then she thumped Ethan on the arm.
“Hey, what the hell!?” he protested.
“I thought you were dead!” growled Summer.
“Well, I’m not, so can you stop trying to kill me?”
Summer stood, and pulled Ethan upright, just as Gaia and the hermit appeared. Ethan peered behind to see Yuna standing watch in the corridor.
“What the hell happened?” croaked Ethan, rubbing his head, which was throbbing along with his neck and shoulders.
“The rest of those things attacked after you were pulled through the lab wall,” explained Gaia. “Yuna and Summer managed to kill them, thankfully without getting hurt.”
Ethan saw black-red blood dripping from the sheath where Summer had stowed his knife.
“You could at least have cleaned it,” said Ethan, pointing to his former favorite weapon.
“I have a feeling it won’t be the last time its needed,” said Summer, keeping a watchful eye on Yuna.
“We must get into the laboratory, while we have the opportunity,” said Gaia. “Each lab should have a redundant backup power source; if it can be activated then the room can be made somewhat more secure.”
Ethan raised a hand up to Summer, who obliged and helped to pull him to his feet. He wi
nced and tried to peer down at the wounds to his neck and shoulders, but the simple action of twisting his neck caused more pain to shoot through his body.
“I will tend to those once we are safely inside,” Gaia added, patting her bulky-looking backpack.
She led them out of the room, stepping carefully over the fragments of fractured glass and back out into the main corridor to where Yuna was waiting.
“Considering that one of those things was able to pull me through a glass wall, I don’t see how we’ll be any safer in the laboratory,” Ethan commented as they walked.
Yuna had joined at the rear, walking backwards and aiming her bolt-thrower down the corridor. Ethan noticed his smashed bolt-thrower still lying on the floor where he’d dropped it, and felt somehow naked without it.
“Once we activate the backup generator, we should be able to seal the lab space, and possibly also lower a barrier across the end of the corridor,” explained Gaia. “It is all part of a quarantine safeguard, but Yuna can trigger it manually.”
They reached the laboratory, which was a large rectangular space with roughly the same floor area as the council chamber back at Forest Gate. Ethan noticed another narrow metal stairwell at the end of the corridor adjacent to it, which rose to a closed silver door.
“I thought there were only two levels?” said Ethan, as Gaia, the hermit and Summer entered the laboratory.
Yuna, who was still covering the corridor, glanced back and then up at the silver door. “It likely leads to the roof. There may have been a pad for an air transport up there, or perhaps it’s just an access door for maintenance personnel.”
Ethan entered the room and slumped down into the nearest chair, which was not nearly as comfortable as it looked. Yuna followed, closing and deadlocking the door, and then immediately ran to a cabinet at the far side of the lab near the outer glass window, yanking the doors open and staring inside with a look of intense concentration.
The hermit dragged a chair opposite Ethan and then daintily planted himself into it. He looked at Ethan’s wounds, and then leant in, eyebrows raised.
“You know, lad, I’ve seen more of those things than I care to remember, but I’ve rarely seen anyone fight one and live to tell the tale.”
“I got lucky,” said Ethan.
“I don’t mean you, lad, I mean that whirling tempest over there,” said the hermit, his eyes twinkling. “I know that you just got lucky.”
Ethan laughed. “In a contest between Summer and one of the maddened, I almost feel sorry for the maddened.”
The hermit laughed back, which drew curious looks from Summer, who had moved to the outer window and had been peering out across the smooth, shimmering lake. She was about to shout over to them when lights flickered on in the ceiling and the multitude of dust-coated machines bleeped and whirred and hummed back into life. Seconds later the smoky glass wall that was the only thing separating them from the corridor outside seemed to shimmer and then solidify into an opaque barrier.
“Okay, backup power is online,” said Yuna, stepping back from the cabinet and dusting off her hands. “But I don’t know how long it will hold. Nothing in this place has been used in over a century.”
“It will be sufficient,” said Gaia, “well done.” Then she removed her backpack, placed it on a bench and removed a black satchel. “Ethan, allow me to tend to your wounds while Yuna helps to set up the equipment I need.”
Ethan pushed himself out of the chair, which required significantly more effort than he had expected it to, and hobbled over to the bench beside Gaia.
“You will need to remove your tunic and shirt,” said Gaia, plainly. Ethan recoiled slightly and then looked at the others, who were all staring back at him.
Yuna laughed. “Honestly, Ethan, I don’t remember you being so shy when standing buck naked alongside Maria in our decontamination room.”
Gaia shot her daughter a reproving look, and Yuna realized her slip. They all looked to Summer, and it was clear that this statement had gotten her attention.
“Stood buck naked with Maria?” repeated Summer; her eyes had widened and her body seemed to tense up like water suddenly freezing.
“It’s a long story, and it’s not how it sounds!” blurted Ethan, only serving to make himself sound guilty of the imagined crime that they all believed he had committed.
“Summer, could you perhaps please assist?” said Gaia in an attempt to move the conversation away from the awkward subject of a naked Maria. She then folded open the satchel and began to prepare the items she needed.
Summer scowled at Ethan and then marched slowly towards him, eyes fixed on his. With each thud of her boots on the glossy laboratory floor, Ethan could feel his pulse getting faster and faster.
“If you could help remove his tunic and shirt, please,” said Gaia as she worked.
Summer stepped behind Ethan, resting her hands on his shoulders for a moment, before yanking the tunic away from Ethan’s body with such urgency that anyone would have thought it was on fire. Ethan yelped, and the hermit, who had sidled around to get a better view, winced as the garment was stripped from him.
“Gently, Summ…” Ethan began, but could not finish before Summer had whipped his shirt up and over his head. Ethan’s yelps were muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, and once the shirt had been removed fully, Summer bundled it up, marched away from Ethan without looking back at him, and threw it in his face. The hermit winced again, but then stifled a snigger as Summer paced back to the window with a face like thunder.
“I’m glad she’s on our side,” the hermit whispered to Ethan, careful to ensure that the fiery ranger did not hear.
“Are you ready?” said Gaia, who was also trying to disguise a slight smirk.
Ethan looked down at the folded-out satchel to see an assortment of instruments, including two injector devices.
“I think I’ve been pierced enough for one day.”
“Ah, don’t be a baby!” said the hermit, chuckling, and then he slapped him encouragingly on the shoulder, causing Ethan to grit his teeth and wince again.
Gaia cocked an eyebrow in the direction of the old man. “I do not know why you are laughing; one of them is for you.” The fiendish smirk on the hermit’s face vanished.
Gaia worked on Ethan’s wounds with her usual skill, covering the claw-like puncture wounds with the curious, skin-like bandage that she’d applied to him previously, before injecting a mixture of pain relievers and healing accelerants. Normally, it would have taken Ethan at least a week to recover from wounds like these, and longer for them to fully heal, if they ever did, and he was amazed again at how instantly the relief came once Gaia had finished. He flexed his arms and shoulders, and then reached for his shirt, which was still in a rough bundle at his feet from when Summer had thrown it in his face.
“Thank you again, Gaia,” Ethan said, slipping on the shirt, and glancing over to Summer, who was patrolling the room, looking either cross or focused. He wasn’t sure which, but hoped it was the latter.
Gaia smiled at Ethan and then picked up the second device, which Ethan now recognized as a variation of the injector that actually drew blood, rather than inject substances into it. Gaia approached the hermit, who shrunk away.
“Come on, do not be a baby…” said Gaia, mimicking the tone the hermit had taken. The old man pouted and stared at the device with suspicious eyes.
“I’ve lasted all these years without contraptions like these,” he said, sticking out his arm and looking away. “I don’t know what you hope to learn, but go on, bleed me if you must!” The hermit shut his eyes tightly and clasped his free hand over his leathery face. “Go on! Make it quick!”
“I have already finished,” said Gaia, who was walking away to join Yuna at an elaborate-looking workstation.
The hermit parted his fingers and peered out through one open eye. His arm, which was still outstretched, had a small yellow blob over the area where Gaia had extracted the blood. He raised the blob c
loser to his face in order to get a better look, scrunching his nose up in disgust as he did so.
Ethan smiled and left the hermit to his own thoughts, fastening the final buttons of his tunic as he strolled up behind Gaia and Yuna, who were operating the complex workstation, which whirred and bleeped softly.
“Do you know how all this stuff works?” asked Ethan, but then realized it was a stupid question to ask, and tried again. “I mean, do you know how long it will take to figure out what you need to know?”
“I have all of my prior research with me, so with this equipment, we should hopefully know very swiftly,” said Gaia, remaining focused on her work.
Yuna removed a device from Gaia’s backpack and connected it to the console. Ethan could see that Gaia had already taken a small sample of the hermit’s blood from the vial, and then stored the remainder in a small silver canister. Gaia glanced back at Ethan, who was standing uncomfortably close and peering over her shoulder.
“Perhaps you could reconnoiter the rest of the laboratory?” said Gaia, though it was phrased more as a request than a question. “There appear to be a number of rooms adjoining this space, which may perhaps contain useful supplies.”
Ethan laughed. “Okay, I know when I’m not wanted.”
“Not needed, to be more precise, Ethan,” Gaia corrected, smiling warmly. “I will let you know when I have something.”
Ethan turned to rejoin the hermit, but noticed that he had moved from his chair and was sitting against the wall with his eyes closed and head bowed forward. Ethan took a few steps further towards him and noticed that his chest was slowly rising and falling, and with each long breath there was an accompanying sonorous rumble.
“Unbelievable…” Ethan said out loud, shaking his head.
He looked for Summer, hoping that she had forgotten about Yuna’s earlier revelation; she was at the far side of the lab, inspecting what looked like a partition door, possibly leading into one of the adjoining spaces that Gaia had mentioned. She was still wearing a frown, but Ethan took a deep breath and decided to head over.