Ripper egt-7

by David L. Golemon

  Pete took the first few steps back up the stairs. “Neither did I, but someone could have mentioned that just a bit earlier — like when we were on level seven.”

  The three men went back up the stairs where they thought it would be safe.

  They were wrong.

  LEVEL SEVENTEEN

  The silence coming from the clean room was overwhelming. Everett didn’t want to get men killed by rushing the outer office, knowing the killers of his men were one room beyond that. Where were Will and Sanchez? They needed the assault packages before they could chance a move into the room. Carl scowled and motioned for his men to stay down. He had to keep this Smith talking to know he wasn’t making a move out of the clean room.

  “Smith?”

  There was nothing other than the moans of someone wounded inside the room. Then they heard a grunt, followed by another. Everett closed his eyes because he knew he had to risk exposing himself to gunfire from inside. Making a quick decision, he rose to his knees and raised his head to the shattered window above. With a quick glance he saw that the observation area was clear. He lowered his head and grimaced. Then he chanced another look. As he rose he quickly saw that the clean room was filled with a fog that was just starting to roll free. He thought he saw several shadows moving about. There were more screams of pain and then, not believing his ears, he heard the laughter of not only one but several men from inside the clouded and fogged clean room. Everett quickly ducked back down, not believing what he had just seen. It was the same fog that had engulfed Guzman and his men at the hacienda.

  “We can’t wait for the assault packages,” he called out to the twenty men lining the wall. “When I give the word, we give those bastards everything we have.”

  The ten men on the right and the ten on the left gave him the thumbs up. Everett quickly noted the twenty weapons his men had. Most were from the smallest of the three armories located in the Security Department, not the heavier-caliber weapons in the main armory down on level forty. The ones his men were armed with were light M-14 carbines, the small version of the M-16. He counted four shotguns in the mix, and they weren’t the solid-shot rounds he would have preferred, but double-ought buckshot. He knew that would have to do.

  “One — two — three — now!” Everett shouted.

  The men as one rose ten on the left and ten on the right with Carl taking up the middle ground with his nine millimeter. The opening salvo was so fierce that each man couldn’t believe anything could live through it. The weapons’ rounds ricocheted off the robotic arm and smashed through any remaining glass inside the clean room. As Everett emptied his Beretta into the fogged-up room, he heard the discharge of the four shotguns. As the rounds and pellets were blasted into the clean room, Carl could see the streaking rounds create eddies and rolling fog as they sliced through the mist.

  “Cease fire,” Everett called out, but as he did he saw one of his sergeants, a marine, start to inch toward the door. “No, hold back!”

  The sergeant started to take a step backward when a large hand pierced the fog that now covered the entire observation room. One minute the man was there, the next he was gone. Then they heard the scream and most chilling of all, more laughter. One laugh was joined by many more. The screaming stopped abruptly, but the laughing continued. As Everett took in his men he could see the unsettling effect the situation was having. They were looking to him for the strength he usually possessed.

  “Open fire!” he called again.

  This time the barrage was intense, and for the first time they heard other screams of pain as they were finally striking something other than glass, steel, or plastic. The men were firing and dropping empty magazines at a furious rate until Everett called a cease-fire yet again.

  “Smith!” Everett yelled as he waved three men away from the fog that was starting to roll out of the observation room and beginning to touch the carpeted floor in the hallway.

  “Yes?” came the deep, unnatural voice.

  That was enough for Carl. He had heard the same change come over Guzman in Mexico.

  “You ten men, get to the stairwell and down to the main armory on twenty,” he said to the men on his right. “You ten, come with me. We can’t fight this with what we have.”

  For the first time ever Captain Everett saw hesitation in his men.

  “Move!” he ordered as he quickly turned right and started for the far stairwell as the first team made a dash for the closest elevator and the stairwell doors next to it.

  As they moved, something crashed through the plastic-and-concrete-reinforced wall. It was huge, and as the last man passed, he was taken in the arms of a man with torn, black-colored clothing. The security man was pulled inside and his screaming was heard in the ears of the men that were making a run for the stairwells.

  Everett managed a look back to see three more of the transformed Men in Black as they burst through the fog with a childish-like glee of laughter and animalistic roars. As Everett forced his nine remaining men in through the stairwell opening, he saw a much larger man step out of the fog and into the hallway. His eyes locked with the altered orbital structure of the man he had met in Mexico. As Everett watched, the man’s four men spread out and went in opposite directions, two coming at him and his team, the other two heading in the opposite direction.

  Carl could see that their firing hadn’t been in vain as blood was coursing down the bodies of the men who had grown so much that they had broken free of their body armor and most of their clothing. Everett quickly aimed his nine millimeter at the head of the beast he thought was Smith and fired five quick shots in succession at the man’s head. The creature Smith had become smiled even as he saw Everett aim his weapon and ducked quickly back into the fog bank now moving like a rolling wave into the hallway. He remembered the description of the formula and how it may boost the IQ of the user, or guinea pig, if it was ingested. With that thought, he didn’t wait to see if he had hit anything. He turned and entered the stairwell and started the retreat back into the depths of the Event Group Complex.

  Behind them two of Smith’s men, their teeth elongated and with both drooling spittle, started convulsing as even more of Perdition’s Fire was inhaled. Then as one they started bashing their ham-sized fists into the walls, creating giant holes with each blow. Farther down the hallway as Smith once more rose from the fog laced with Perdition’s Fire, he saw what the two men were doing and nodded his massive head and laughed as he and the other two started to repeat what the first men were doing. They needed to get into the walls and the spaces behind them so they could control the complex from directions its defenders would never believe possible. The first two broke through to the empty and nonfunctioning elevator shaft at the far end of the hallway, even as Smith started laughing uncontrollably as his men were tearing into the walls like they were papier-mâché.

  The Security Department had lost the first round with Lawrence Ambrose’s chemically improved soldiers, with four security personnel dead and level seventeen lost.

  * * *

  On level eight, Niles stopped to get some air into his lungs. It was right about then that he regretted excusing all officers and supervisors from the intramural activities such as the football game they watched just three days ago. As he sat down on one of the steel risers to catch his breath, he was soon joined by the other two scientists that could have used a prescription for exercise as both Pete and Charlie virtually collapsed on the steps just below him.

  “Did you hear that gunfire a minute ago?” Charlie asked as he leaned against the sealed elevator tube that ran along the stairwell. “That was a serious firefight.”

  “I wouldn’t know a serious one from two gang members banging it out on a street corner,” Pete said as he reached up on his chest and felt his racing heart.

  “Pete, why is Europa off-line? The warning lights have stopped and she hasn’t made any announcements about the evacuation since we started back up the stairs.”

  Pete managed to
look up at the director. They were all soaked with sweat because one of Europa’s last commands was to shut down the air conditioning systems because of the threat of spreading the contaminate to other levels.

  “When the intruder alarm was sounded, Europa had programming instructions to shut down everything so she cannot be compromised by the intruders. A serious programming error by yours truly I’m afraid. I just couldn’t fathom any scenario where I could not override any of her protocols.” Pete looked away. “I’m sorry.”

  Niles reached down and patted Pete on the back as he rose from the stair he had been resting on.

  “Well, that’s another reason for returning to the office level. You can get her going once you reach the computer center, right?”

  “You bet I can, as long as nothing interferes once we get there.”

  The white-haired Charlie Ellenshaw was still leaning against the steel and plastic tube of one of the eighteen different elevator shafts when he thought he felt something inside of the sealed tube the elevators rode on with compressed air. He removed his glasses and tried not to breathe for a moment as he listened. He shushed Niles and Pete as he placed his ear closer to the tube.

  “Pete, Europa shut down everything you said?”

  Pete saw what Ellenshaw was doing and nodded his head. “The elevators were the first thing cut off after the intruder alarm sounded, Charlie.”

  Ellenshaw leaned back onto the stairwell. “Uh, maybe we better get to the next level because something seems to be coming this way — it’s noisy and very much in a hurry.”

  Pete placed his ear to the tube and listened as Charlie shot up a few steps, took Niles by the arm, and started pushing him up the remaining stairs. As Golding listened he could hear grunting coming through the round tube that activated the elevator system just like an everyday drive-through bank deposit tube. His eyes widened when he heard the impact of something as it traveled upward. Pete wondered if something was in the tube but didn’t wait for an answer as his frightened imagination produced any number of possibilities after Captain Everett’s description of the nightmare in Mexico. He started running after Niles and Charlie.

  “Oh, this is bad,” Pete said as he tried to catch up with the suddenly fast-moving director and cryptozoologist.

  * * *

  Virginia, Mendenhall, Gloria, and Sarah were having the same problems getting down to level thirty-four where they could evacuate. Sarah was just now getting her senses back and refused to slow the others down. She leaned against the stairwell wall and wiped the last of her bleeding wound to the top of her head away. Virginia again ripped part of her lab coat to dab at the large cut in Sarah’s scalp.

  “Girl, you’re not doing too well the last few days, are you?” Virginia said, trying not to hurt the small geologist anymore than needed.

  Sarah looked up with her swollen and blackened eyes and touched the large gash on her cheek. “I have had far better weeks.”

  “Sarah, is what you said about the colonel true?” Will asked as he placed an arm around the still-sobbing Gloria Bannister.

  “I don’t know Will. When I was taken Jack was still alive, but these men are ruthless.”

  “Do you think you can get to level thirty-four from here?” Mendenhall asked as he pulled Gloria’s arms from around him where she had been holding on to him with a death grip.

  Sarah and Virginia looked at him at the same time. Sarah removed the blood-stained rag from Virginia’s hand and glared at Will.

  “We’ve already been separated from everyone else, and in case you didn’t hear what I heard, Carl has his hands full up on seventeen. So consider that if you want to get yourself into the fight, because we’re going to go with you if you attempt to leave. We follow orders remember?”

  From somewhere high above them they heard a crash and a moment later several large chunks of plastic and concrete flew past them on the stairwell. Each person standing on the stairs ventured to look up into the darkness over their heads. That was when they heard loud, very heavy footsteps on the steel steps several levels up.

  “What in the hell is that?” Virginia asked out loud.

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound like kids playing on the stairs,” Sarah said as she tried to penetrate the darkness with her damaged eyes.

  Suddenly the stairwell was filled with an animalistic roar that reverberated off the concrete walls. The sound vibrated the steel stairs beneath their feet and shook the handrails.

  “Oh, shit,” Will hissed as he started pushing the women before him down the stairs. “I’ve heard that before and I didn’t like it much then either!”

  The four people started their flight down the stairs and just hoped beyond reason that unlike the regular elevators, the cargo elevator was up and working.

  That was when the lights went out.

  * * *

  As Everett and nine men ran upward after being cut off by two of Smith’s enraged giants, he heard something breaking into the elevator tube on seventeen that was even more terrifying than the roars, laughter, and screams of the transformed men. He called a halt to their flight so he could listen more clearly. His men came to a stop and immediately went into a defensive position with weapons aimed up and down the semidark stairwell. Everett leaned over and placed a hand on the steel tube, feeling the shocks from the blows and then something else — the steady thump of something that sounded as if it were running, or worse, climbing or descending the tube itself. He leaned back and looked at a marine gunnery sergeant who had just spent two full tours overseas, one in Iraq and the other in Afghanistan.

  “I think the damn things are using the tubes to move around.”

  The sergeant unzipped his body armor, lazily scratched his chest, and then looked from Everett to the tube and back again.

  “Well, Cap’n, not knowing just what in the hell we have going on here is throwin’ a kink in my train of thought,” the old sergeant said as he reached out and felt the tube himself. His eyes widened and he pulled the nylon glove on his right hand free and then touched the tube. “Damn,” he hissed.

  “What we have here is what amounts to a genetic, or viral, experiment gone bonkers Gunny. One that’s damn hard to kill,” Everett said.

  “Okay,” the sergeant said with a wry look at his squad of men around him.

  “From what I learned, they can’t last that long. The substance starts eating away at their brains if there was too much of the formula taken into their system. It was invented to be given out in light doses to soldiers to bolster their aggressiveness. It has properties that can open up the unused portions of a person’s brain.” Everett again felt the tube and realized that the movement inside was moving away from them, traveling farther down into the complex. “But that in and of itself starts a fast process of something akin to brain cancer.”

  “Some kind of super trooper, huh?” the gunnery sergeant said with a grin and shake of his head.

  “Something like that,” answered Everett.

  “Sounds like something the army needs,” quipped the gunnery sergeant.

  “Hey!” came a shouted protest from farther up the stairwell.

  “It feels like the movement is heading down.”

  “Yeah,” the gunnery sergeant said spitting a large stream of tobacco juice onto one of the steps, “but what about the fifteen other tubes inside the complex, Cap’n?”

  Everett closed his eyes as the point the sergeant just made hit home.

  “What kills these bastards, Cap’n?”

  Everett looked around at his small band of men. “One hell of a lot of bullets,” he said in frustration, noticing that his words didn’t have a very good effect on his men. “Head shots men. They can’t very damn well function if they have no brain.”

  The men started shaking their heads in response to the captain.

  The gunnery sergeant pulled the magazine from his M-14 and inserted a full thirty rounds. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, but we’re running lo
w on ammo.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t think we’re going to run into Sergeant Sanchez with his assault packages before we run into more of these monsters. We’re heading in the wrong direction to get more bullets. It’s either make it down to level ten and resupply at the security office, or make a run to the main armory on thirty-two.”

  Before the gunnery sergeant could say anything, they were caught completely off-guard when a loud hollow-sounding bang came from the tube. A large dent appeared in the steel right where Everett had placed his hand. The men on the landing stepped back as another large dent appeared. The steel of the elevator tube was only an eighth of an inch thick and was standing up too well to the assault from the inside.

  “Jesus,” the gunny said as he stood and backed away from the fifteen-foot-diameter elevator shaft. “Whatever that is has been waiting right there, probably hearing every word we were saying.”

  “I think it’s time we start fighting back and get our asses to the armory,” Everett said as he checked the remaining rounds in his Beretta. “I want something a little heavier than this cap pistol.”

  “Then may I suggest we beat feet the hell out of here?” the marine said as he waved the men farther up on the stairs to start back down.

  “If they’re smart like the docs say, they may be able to cut us off. And if they’re real smart they will make it to the breaker boxes on each level. Smith will know we can’t fight in the dark without the right equipment.”

  Suddenly the already-dim lighting in the stairwell went completely out, followed by the flash and start-up of the battery-powered floods on each level. They were now almost totally in the dark.

  “Well, I guess they’re real smart, Cap’n.”

  Everett turned away and motioned downward as his squad started a headlong flight back down the stairs and into the darkness below.

  * * *