by Mike Kraus
Rachel leaned down and spoke softly in his ear, instructing him to “heel.” His demeanor changed immediately upon hearing the word, and he quickly moved next to Rachel’s leg, pressing his body against hers. Hopeful that Sam wouldn’t go running off, Rachel motioned for Marcus to continue forward. Instead of lagging behind like she had been, though, she kept abreast with him, more vigilant than ever for any signs of danger.
The distant sound could have been from any of a number of mundane origins, a theory supported by Sam’s cavalier attitude after the echo had subsided. Rachel and Marcus were in no mood for taking chances, though, and they treated every corner with caution and every flight of stairs as a potential ambush.
Down far enough into the complex to be clear of most of the damage caused by the building collapse, Marcus couldn’t help but get distracted by the décor of the place. Depending on what door he peeked through, the halls might be lined with carpet, upscale furniture and paintings, or be barren, holding only sterile white walls and floors. The clash of styles was curious at first, but became unnerving as Marcus began to dwell on what the building had been used for.
Powerful individuals had no doubt roamed the well-furnished halls, giving commands to the underlings that dwelled in the white corridors. Senators, congressmen and perhaps even a President or two had been in the laboratory, no doubt at least partially aware of the atrocities that had been created. Even if they hadn’t been aware of the nanobots program in particular, Marcus was certain that a building of this size would have had dozens—if not hundreds—of other clandestine programs. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he whispered to Rachel, breaking the silence of their slow descent.
“What else went on here?”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed as she shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what else went on here? What other programs were these people working on?”
Rachel shrugged. “Military, I guess. I wouldn’t know, though. My knowledge was restricted to my project.” Rachel’s initially annoyed expression was beginning to fade. “I wasn’t even allowed to come into the building except through a single designated entrance, and this stairwell sure wasn’t it.”
Rachel and Marcus’s whispered conversation came to an abrupt halt with the echo of another sound. Slightly louder this time, it caused them to press up against the wall of the stairwell, each of them holding their breath and listening intently. Sam didn’t react to the sound, merely staring up at Marcus and Rachel as if he was wondering why they were acting so oddly.
When the echo finally faded, Rachel took the lead, moving rapidly down the stairs without speaking a word to either Marcus or Sam. Following behind, Marcus struggled to keep up without making too much racket as he half ran, half tripped down the darkened stairwell. Three flights down, Marcus skidded to a stop behind Rachel, who was frozen on a landing, her back against the wall as she peeked through a door into a hallway. Marcus looked at her questioningly, about to ask why her flashlight was extinguished, when he caught sight of the look in her eyes. He switched his flashlight off as well, though the room did not go quite as dark as he expected.
As Marcus’s eyes adjusted to the dark, a faint blue glow became apparent, shining and shimmering through the hallway door’s small window. Marcus gulped and his stomach turned as he fought against a sudden onset of panic. Sliding up next to Rachel, he too peeked through the window, pulling his head back in a quick motion after catching a mere glimpse of the source of the glow. While Marcus had expected to see another swarm of Mr. Doe’s nanobots based on the color of the light, the truth was far more sinister than he had expected.
Leonard McComb
8:10 PM, April 11, 2038
Stealth and speed were the only two subjects on Leonard’s mind as he hustled through the small town. The cloud cover overhead gave him ample shadows in which to hide, but he still hugged the walls of buildings, ducking down low whenever he heard voices. By his count, more than half the village was out in the field near the lake, tending to the guard who had been impaled by one of the barricade posts. Leonard was surprised at his lack of empathy for the man, but didn’t mind. These people kidnapped us. Besides, there’ll be time enough to grieve later, if at all.
Their kidnapping had upset Leonard more than he had allowed himself to show around Nancy or the individuals they interacted with. A purposeful decision on his part, Leonard’s hope was that by keeping the village from seeing him appear weak, he could keep them off guard and guessing as to what his true thoughts were. In reality, Leonard was furious, and his rage had been building for three solid days as he and Nancy had both been forced into the service of Samuel and his brainwashed followers.
Another set of shouts rang out and Leonard rolled to the ground, lying on his stomach between some bushes just a few hundred feet from where the APC was parked. Around the building, Samuel’s voice cut clearly through the storm, along with the voice of another man. Samuel’s calm pleading was quickly drowned out by the outraged screaming of the second man as he argued with Samuel.
“No! Fuck you, Sam! You’re the reason he’s dead! You’re the reason he’s gone and I’m gone and now I’m here, it’s all you!”
“Richard, please, calm down. I don’t want to have to restrain you again.”
“Screw off! I’m not staying here, I’m getting back out there, away from you! They took my eye! I’m not resting ‘till they’re both dead!”
Leonard felt a chill wash over him as a door was slammed open, followed by a scuffle. Richard? That sounds like one of those assholes who kidnapped Nancy before. After a moment, the struggle dissipated and Richard’s voice was reduced to a combination of sobbing, laughing and incoherent screams. Samuel’s voice moved toward the front of the building and Leonard tensed involuntarily even though he knew he was out of sight. Walking beside three armed men, Samuel shook his head sadly and spoke over the sound of the storm.
“Stay here and watch him, make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or anyone else. And pray, brothers, pray for his mind and his soul.”
The three armed guards nodded and walked back into the building. Samuel took off in the opposite direction, heading toward the commotion in the field around the guard struck by the post. Leonard let out his breath, not realizing that he had been holding it for the last several seconds as he watched Samuel walk away. From inside the building, Richard’s moaning and babbling mixed with the sound of the storm provided an extra helping of cover for Leonard’s movements.
Shuffling slowly backward, Leonard got to his feet and moved around the building, spotting his goal in the distance. A small garage, once home to a repair shop, had its bay doors partially open, and Leonard spotted the wide, thick tires of the APC through the gap. The area between Leonard and the garage was mostly clear, offering little in the way of places to hide from anyone who happened to be walking in or looking at the area.
Taking a deep breath, Leonard edged as close to the corner of the building that housed Richard and the guards and knelt down, watching the garage for any signs of movement. The minutes ticked past slowly, and the only change Leonard noticed was an increase in the ferocity of the storm. Satisfied that he wouldn’t get immediately caught, Leonard stood up and stretched his legs, took one last look around and then took off at a run toward the garage.
Passing through an open area filled with decorative trees, sidewalks and fountains, Leonard dodged around and jumped over the obstacles in his path. Growing closer to the road, he kept his head on a swivel, looking to the sides and behind him for any signs of other people. Running across the road, he sped past the garage and circled around to the back, pressing up against the structure as he slowly slid down to the ground, panting from the quick run.
Listening carefully, Leonard couldn’t hear any shouts or gunfire that might signal that he had been seen, and a small smile appeared on his face. Made it! The back of the garage had a single, windowless door that opened up into the interior. Not knowing whether there w
ere any workers or guards inside, Leonard closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he pushed down on the door handle. The door tried to swing wildly in the blowing wind, but Leonard held it firmly open just a few inches, peeking inside.
The interior of the garage was dark and the APC sat in the middle of one of the two bays like a squat, black monster. Aside from the vehicle, though, there was nothing else Leonard could see in the garage. He opened the door several more inches and slid inside, pulling the door closed behind him. As his eyes gradually began to adjust to the light, Leonard could see the outlines of toolboxes and other machinery surrounding the APC. Looking like a patient on an operating table, the APC appeared intact, though Leonard couldn’t tell without getting closer and examining the interior.
Leonard stood quietly, his body tense now that he had reached his destination. His anger at Samuel and the rest of the villagers overwhelmed his paranoia on his trip to the garage. Now that he was here, though, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end from worry. Treading lightly, he crept slowly toward the APC. The vehicle was only ten feet away, but in the empty garage it felt like a hundred. Leonard’s heart skipped a beat as his fingers brushed against the cold alloy shell of the machine, happy to once again be in such close proximity to the mode of transport that had protected him and Nancy through their trip so far.
Though the room was dark, Leonard closed his eyes anyway as he pulled gently on the APC’s door handle, opening them again only once he felt the latch begin to give way under his grip. I guess they’re not worried about anyone taking it if it’s not starting. Ascending into the APC’s driver seat, Leonard felt under the dash, trying to find the fuse box he had seen there on a previous occasion. A small switch was set next to the box, protected by a hinged cover that Leonard flipped up before activating the switch.
“Let’s see if the problem is what I think it is…”
Lights on the dash of the APC instantly sprang to life and a small overhead glow came from a map light mounted in the roof. Leonard scanned through the dials and noted that most of them glowed green, though the light with the engine symbol on it was orange, signaling that some sort of problem was present. Leonard kept looking around in the garage as he bent down to check the fuse box under the dashboard, mumbling as he went. “Really? One guy gets speared by a post and the whole village abandons their posts?”
The fuse box of the APC was a wreck, with half of the fuses strewn about on the floor of the APC. Leonard shook his head as he quickly replaced them in their proper places, switching out the few that had burned out with spares from the side of the box. How did these idiots mess this up so badly? Are they that technologically inept? As he replaced the last fuse, Leonard heard a commotion outside and quickly flipped the switch next to the fuse box back off, killing the lights and dials in the vehicle. Crawling quickly from the front of the APC into the rear, he sat motionless on one of the empty seats, listening to voices outside the vehicle.
“Hurry up, get the doors up! We’ve got to get the rest of the guns over to Samuel before more of the demons come through!”
Leonard looked around the interior of the APC, grateful that his eyes were adjusted enough to the dim light to make out the items inside. Most of the boxes of food and water had been offloaded, along with all of the guns and ammunition from the armory, leaving the back of the vehicle practically empty. The sound of people walking and thumping along the side of the APC made Leonard slide down onto the floor despite the fact that no one could see in to the back unless they were sitting in the front seats.
“Quick, take that box. I’ll carry these. Let’s go!”
A few grunts followed the hurried voice, then Leonard heard the men depart quickly into the raging storm outside. With the bay doors of the garage fully opened, Leonard could hear the wind clearly now, though this time it was unappreciated. Without the benefit of knowing when someone was about to enter the garage, any more work Leonard tried to perform on the APC would put him at risk of being found without having time to hide again.
As he waited a moment to make sure the voices weren’t returning, Leonard felt his stomach twist as he realized what the men were talking about. ‘Demons?’ Oh shit… are the creatures attacking the town? This thought spurred Leonard into action. Without another thought to being potentially discovered, Leonard dove forward into the front seat of the APC and flipped the fuse box switch. The dash of the vehicle glowed green across the board and Leonard smirked as he engaged the starter switch, pleased to hear the loud diesel engine roar to life. Bunch of idiots. Three days and they can’t replace a few fuses.
Leonard gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands, bracing himself for what was to come. If the mutated creatures were really attacking the village, his and Nancy’s situation was about to get a lot more complicated.
“So much for a nice, relaxing drive to Alaska.”
Rachel Walsh | Marcus Warden
8:05 PM, April 11, 2038
Hunched over in the corridor, a lone figure squatted on the floor. Its back was to the door and its movements were subtle, giving no indication of being aware of Marcus and Rachel’s presence. Marcus noted that, while it was shrouded in shadow, a faint blue glow—identical to that of Mr. Doe’s nanobots swarm—was surrounding the figure like a cloak. While it was impossible to tell if the figure was a man or a woman, Marcus was certain that it was still alive. Every few seconds, the figure would pick up a piece of rubble from the floor and toss it over its shoulder. While the smaller pieces made no sound as they impacted on the white hallway, the larger pieces bounced and echoed, their sound carrying through the empty hall and up the staircase.
Squinting to try and catch a closer glimpse of the figure, Marcus leaned in toward the windows, studying its form. The blue glow provided barely any light, but it was enough to make out pale reflected rivers of silver that traversed the figure’s body, spreading out in geometric patterns. The silver rivers dipped in and out of the skin, forming a lattice of flesh and metal that was an all too familiar sight for Marcus. Clothed in only a pair of pants, the figure shuddered every few moments, as though it was cold, though the ambient temperature of the laboratory complex wasn’t all that low.
Pulling back from the window, Marcus pressed his mouth against Rachel’s ear, whispering as softly as he could. “What the hell is that thing?”
Rachel’s lips were pursed and she shook her head, unsure what to make of the sight herself. If it had been one of the mutated creatures, she would have expected Sam to react in some way to its presence. Instead, he was sitting at her and Marcus’s feet, looking up at them as though he was impatiently waiting for them to get moving again. Despite Sam’s lack of concern, though, Rachel wasn’t about to let yet another unknown obstacle delay them from reaching David’s lab.
“I don’t know.” Rachel whispered back. “But it’s not getting out of here alive.”
Marcus nodded, having similar reservations about the strange figure. He too noticed Sam’s lack of reaction, though he was more bothered by it than Rachel was. If Sam wasn’t reacting to this figure like he had to the creatures in the past, then for all they knew, it could be a survivor. Taking chances at this point was not a wise idea, a fact that Marcus was well aware of.
Taking the lead, he pulled on Rachel’s shoulder, motioning for her to stand out of the way. Holstering his pistol and shouldering the rifle slung over his back, he moved to the opposite side of the door, next to the large handle that jutted several inches out. Marcus held up his hand to Rachel, indicating that she should stay still. Keeping all but a few inches of his face out of view of the window, Marcus slowly and carefully applied pressure to the door handle, pushing it downward.
The door swung open noiselessly, its well-oiled hinges undisturbed by the shifting of the building. With one hand on the door and the other holding his rifle, Marcus stepped slowly into the hall, trying to minimize the sounds from his footsteps. A small pebble caught in his boot betrayed him, though, scrap
ing softly against the floor after he had only taken three steps forward. Marcus cringed at the sound, watching the figure begin to stand and turn to face him. Steadying his rifle with both hands, Marcus eased his finger onto the trigger, preparing to squeeze it, when he caught sight of the figure’s face.
Bathed in a sickly blue glow from his torso, the face was of a man, clearly in agony, but who lacked the characteristic metal latticework on his head. His legs, arms and torso were covered with it, but the transformation process had not yet made it to his head. Marcus’s aim wavered and his mouth dropped open in shock, trying to understand what was in front of him. The blue glow suggested that the man was infected with nanobots from Mr. Doe’s swarm, but transformations performed by the silver nanobot swarms were fast, and they left no room for mistakes, unlike what was standing in the hall.
Marcus turned on his flashlight, illuminating the figure and causing the man’s eyes to close reflexively. The man’s body was thin and his skin pale, nearly as white as the hallway he stood in. Deep bruises were scattered across his arms and chest, blending in with the silver metalwork that was embedded in his flesh. Covered in dirt, scratches and a variety of substances that Marcus didn’t want to fathom, the man looked like he had been to hell and back.