by Nick Thacker
“They’re not just going to sue you or ask you nicely to leave. If they made that thing that’s running around, that means they’ve got more where it came from. They did something to it — I guarantee it. And if you think they’re above doing something like that to you, you got another thing coming.”
47
Ben
Ben left the hunter, Elias Ziegler, in the field. The guy was far too large to carry, and it seemed as though he wouldn’t have accepted help anyway. They talked for another minute, but the man’s eyes began to drift, to wander.
Ben didn’t think the man was going to make it — his internal wounds prevented him from even staying in a seated position. Ben felt for the guy, but there was a bigger problem to tackle now.
If Ziegler had been right about the gorilla — that it was only attacking people it recognized and worked for EKG directly — it had simply thrown Ziegler out of the way in order to get to the real threats: the two other men, one of whom was now dead on the ground near Ziegler.
Ben had returned to Eliza at the building and examined the exterior. It was a nondescript structure, not ugly but certainly not hoping to win any architecture awards, and there were no windows along the walls of at least this side.
About a hundred feet to their right was a small parking lot that backed up to the building and around the other side of it where it met with a tall garage door, a loading dock. The size of the lot suggested that there wouldn't ever be more than a small staff of doctors and professionals working at any given time; the lot itself had only three cars in it that Ben could see.
There was a chance everyone had parked on the far side of the lot and their vehicles were hidden from view, but Ben had a feeling this wasn’t the case. This place had the feel of a secretive, tucked-away office.
“How do we get in?” he asked.
He was standing at the doorway, looking inside. The building itself was concrete, the doors some amalgam of metal, thick and impenetrable. All of it added to his suspicion that there were some serious ethical situations going on inside.
“There’s a keycard reader over here,” Eliza said, pointing to a flat gray rectangle that had been recessed into the wall next to the door.
Ben hadn’t seen it before she brought his attention to it, but he knelt down to examine it. Besides the fact that it was flush against the wall, it didn’t seem to be any different from the card readers most corporate buildings used. “Yeah,” he said. “Problem is that we don’t have a key.”
“We don’t?” Eliza asked with a certain suspicion on her face. “What about that ID badge you nabbed from that dead security guard out in the woods?”
Of course.
Ben had forgotten about that. He quickly withdrew the card from his back pocket and held it up to the door. Before he moved his hand to the left to hover the card directly over the reader, he looked at Eliza. “There’s no going back once we do this,” he said. “There weren’t any security guards outside, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any inside.”
“I know.”
“If we get in there, and someone sees us, there’s a chance they could start shooting at us.”
“I know,” Eliza said again. “But there’s no chance in hell I'm getting this close to proving my theory without actually going inside and seeing it for myself. We both know what they're doing in there, Ben, and I'm going to get proof of it once and for all. If I get shot while I'm in there, you need to take my camera or at least the card in it, and get whatever information we find out of here."
Ben wasn’t so much worried about finding and retrieving proof as he was of his own safety. Ben had no intention or interest in getting shot — no matter how reckless it seemed his partner was going to be.
Nevertheless, he swiped the card over the reader and heard the locking mechanism from within the concrete wall disengage, and the door in front of him popped open an inch. He stepped to the side, mirroring Eliza’s position on the opposite side of the doorframe, waiting for some reaction from within.
None came.
He checked his magazine, then ensured the safety on the rifle was off, and finally, he poked the tip of it out and pushed the door open farther.
Still, no shots were fired from inside the building.
He did notice that some light reflected off the ground in front of the door, bouncing out from inside the facility, mixing with the shadows beginning to form in the dusk light outside.
“Seems like someone’s home,” he said.
“We used to work staggered shifts,” Eliza said. “No matter what day, or what time, someone was always home.”
“Like I said, keep your eyes up and your gun pointed straight. And don’t fire unless you are absolutely sure it’s going to hit the thing you want it to hit.”
It wasn’t much of a speech — nor was it much of a training lesson in weapons use — but it was all Ben could muster at the moment.
“Should I go first?” Eliza asked.
“No, stay behind me, and keep your gun pointed to the sides. Never at my back.”
She nodded, but Ben was already pushing the door wider open wider and beginning to rush inside.
The heavy metal door swung on its hinges silently, allowing Ben to enter the brightly lit room without being heard. He immediately ducked to his left, his back against the wall, his rifle forward. Eliza followed behind him, ending up on the same wall just to his right.
48
Ben
He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary — at least nothing that he wanted to shoot at immediately. This room was some sort of antechamber, a large chamber that had been constructed to serve as a makeshift front desk location. That desk was over to Ben’s right, and it was a standard office desk, complete with a shiny, green fake plant, potted and situated on the top corner of the two-level table.
No one was sitting behind it.
Ben flicked his eyes around, taking in the rest of the scene. A few generic landscapes hung on the walls, the fluorescent lights doing little to make them look any more attractive, and a simple rectangular trashcan set against the opposite wall to his right. Directly in front of him was a right-angled archway, the size of a set of double doors, but there were no doors blocking entrance to the next section of this facility. He could see straight down the hallway, and he could see where each of the unnaturally bright fluorescent lights sprayed their illuminating wash over the tiled floor below them. All the way down to the opposite side of the building, about 200 yards directly in front of him.
“I don’t see anybody,” Eliza said.
“Me either,” Ben said. He didn’t elaborate. Just because they couldn’t see anyone now didn’t mean there wasn’t someone waiting behind a doorway or behind one of these archways, hoping for an opportunity to take them off-guard. He held his weapon at the ready, once again more than aware of the diminishing number of rounds he had available to shoot, and well aware of Eliza’s near-incompetence with her own weapon.
“Our goal is to get in, take pictures and files, and get out. No firing that weapon. Best if you keep the safety on as long as possible, and only take it off if you think I’m not going to be able to get a shot off.” The last thing he wanted was for her to get spooked by something and fire off a burst of shots into the ceiling, alerting everyone working on either of the two floors to their presence.
She nodded next to him, and he took a few steps forward, aiming for the archway in front of him read he stayed to the left, staying behind the arch and out of view from the hallway. He hadn’t seen any cameras mounted in this room, but that didn’t necessarily mean there weren’t any. Julie had shown him plenty of incredible security options when she was working with Mrs. E on the security of their own home and headquarters back in Alaska — some modern-day HD and 4K cameras were completely invisible to the naked eye when painted and hidden in a room. One option he had seen was about the size of his own fingernail.
He waited at the arch for Eliza to copy his movement
and end up at the arch across from him, and then he quickly and silently slid around the beam to end up in the hallway. He counted ten doors between his position and the end of the hallway, but only eight doors on the right side. It looked as though there was a gap wide enough for a set of stairs or an elevator on the right side of the hall just before the end wall. If they couldn’t find what they needed down here, they would have to go upstairs.
He wasn’t sure if the place had a basement, but worst case they could search that as well.
“No talking,” he whispered. “From now on, it’s complete silence unless you absolutely need to say something.”
He saw in his peripheral vision Eliza nodding back at him.
Ben stepped forward and walked toward the first of the doors on his left. There was an identical doorway across the hallway to his right, and he saw Eliza emulating his motions and moving toward that door. He hadn’t had time to show her how to properly clear a room, but the truth was he hadn’t been thoroughly trained on the tactic, either. The best he could hope for was that both of them would open the doors simultaneously, poke their heads in and see what awaited them inside, and then move onto the next doors.
Speed was an issue, so he wasn’t concerned about having Eliza’s rifle next to his as they inspected each room. By splitting up, they could tackle two rooms every five seconds or so.
He reached out with his left hand and felt the handle in his fingers. He pulled it down, feeling it click and give easily. Unlocked. He pulled it open an inch, and then another few inches. Finally, he threw the door open far enough for him to walk inside.
He led with the tip of his rifle, careful to ensure that his head and the bulk of his body stayed inside the hallway, relatively safe from anyone who might try to attack him from inside the room. He reached inside and flicked on a lightswitch.
But the room was empty. There were a few boxes against the wall on his left, and a folding table in the center of the room with one of the same style of boxes sitting atop it, its lid removed and placed upside-down on the table. He could see papers and folders inside the box.
Nothing else in the room caught his attention.
He turned to Eliza. “See anything?” She had just opened her own door on the right side of the hallway and had ducked her head inside.
She pulled back out of the room and turned to face Ben. “Nothing but some boxes; stacks of them. Some sort of storage room, I guess.”
"Yeah, that's what I've got, too." He didn't want to keep discussing things out loud, so he motioned with his head to the next room, and together they walked on either side of the hallway toward the next door in line.
He felt the handle again, felt it give again, and opened it a crack once again.
So far, everything had been exactly the same as the first door, but when he opened it, hit the lights, and saw what was inside, he stopped before entering.
This room could not have been more different from the first. It was a full-on medical suite — surgical by the looks of it — with a solid metal table and paper-thin mattress on top, huge bulbs hanging from the ceiling directly above it, and a few stools scattered around it. Against each wall were more tables and shelves full of equipment, all sparkling and silver. He saw an intravenous drip stand with a few empty infusion bags hanging from it, waiting to be filled and put to use.
He turned back to the hallway and waited for Eliza to come out of her room. "Looks like a hospital room," Ben said. She nodded in reply, and Ben walked back into his room to start examining the room in more detail.
There were no computers or servers in sight within the surgical suite, so he knew they wouldn’t be able to extract any useful data from the room, but he also wanted to make sure that he’d checked every corner of the space for anything that might be useful before moving on. He couldn’t see anything that seemed to be out of place — he hadn’t spent much time in a hospital room, but this place seemed to check all of the boxes for him.
Besides having no windows, no glass on the doors, and no viewing chamber along one wall, the rooms appeared to be just office spaces, converted into normal surgical operating rooms.
He even saw a drain on the floor near the table.
He pulled back out of the room and met with Eliza in the hallway. “So far, nothing seems to be out of place, and there’s nothing I can think of to grab that would prove what they’re doing here.”
“Right,” Eliza said. “If the other rooms are like this one, I don’t think there’s going to be anything incriminating on this first floor, at least not in plain sight.”
“But Eliza, there’s nothing here. You said it yourself — there are 24/7 shifts at this company, right? Where is everybody?”
She shrugged, her voice still low. “Honestly, I don’t know. I was never with this division after Dr. Canavero was placed in charge. They moved out here, built this place to do God-knows-what, but they could have completely different procedures now than what I was used to. Nothing looks familiar. It’s all been reconfigured.”
Ben considered this. It was possible that they were wrong — that EKG wasn’t doing anything at all suspicious.
Possible, but not likely. If this truly was EKG Corporation, there would be something here that suggested it.
They just had to find it.
“Okay, let’s keep moving. There’s got to be something around we can use. Something that proves what you —“
His words were cut off by the sound of a heavy door opening from farther down the hall.
49
Eliza
Eliza pulled Ben into her room. “Quiet,” she whispered. She could tell that Ben had heard the sound, but she still wasn’t going to take any chances.
"Came from down the hall, I think," Ben said. "Footsteps."
Ben tapped her on the shoulder, then pointed to his eyes, then to the hallway. Watch out. He turned into the room and started silently pacing around. After a few seconds, he grabbed something off the table and returned to Eliza.
Ben returned to where Eliza was waiting and shrugged. “I was looking for something to use as a mirror, but I don’t think it makes sense anyway. If they see something sticking out of the doorway, we’re hosed.”
Eliza nodded in response. “We’ll be able to hear them coming and know when they’re close,” she said. “What’s the plan?”
“I can hear them. Doesn’t sound like they’re stopping to check every room, which means they’re on patrol if they’re security, and they don’t know we’re here yet. Or just some workers walking to another room.”
They waited another few seconds, listening to the sounds of the footsteps in the hallway. "We can't take any chances, though. Let's let them pass, and when they're right next to the door, we'll both run out and try to intercept them."
“And if they’re armed?” Eliza asked.
“We need to keep the element of surprise on our side,” Ben said. “Let me go first and try to knock both of them off balance. But be right behind me — if they are security guards, chances are they’ll be trained, and I won’t be able to take both of them out.”
“You want me to shoot one of them?” Eliza asked.
“I’d rather we try to knock them unconscious, but that might be tricky to do. Like I told you before, if you absolutely have to shoot your weapon, make sure they’re filling up the crosshairs and it’s a can’t-miss shot.”
Eliza swallowed, trying to physically gulp down her fear. She had never shot at another human before this week, and now she was actually considering — contemplating, premeditating — how to shoot one and kill one. She didn’t want to let Ben down, but she was more worried she would let herself down.
She wasn’t sure she could handle the stress of a situation like that, if it came to it. “I’ll do my best,” she whispered.
Ben nodded, then crouched behind the half-open door. She was next to him on his right, and she copied his movements, kneeling down on the floor and gripping the weapon in her hands as tightly as sh
e could.
“Five seconds,” Ben whispered. “I should be able to get at least one of them to the ground, but you can’t hesitate or I’m dead.”
He wasn't helping her to feel any better, but the logical portion of her brain told her that he was just trying to be clear. She knew it was the right call. She had no intention of leaving him high and dry, fighting off two armed security guards alone in the hallway, but she also had no idea how her body would respond.
But it was too late to consider it any further.
The footsteps grew louder, and Ben sprang into action.
Without making a sound, Ben swiveled and turned around the open door and faced the hallway, all while standing and holding his rifle forward. Eliza moved to a standing position as well, and she caught the action through the crack of the open door.
Ben reached the person closest to them first — a woman holding a small subcompact machine gun— and smacked the butt of his rifle hard across her face. She went down with a quiet yelp of confusion, her weapon bouncing away from her. The other person, a man holding a similar-looking gun, turned and started to lift his weapon before Ben could get to him.
Eliza was now at the open door, and her hands were shaking. Ben jabbed his rifle out again, knocking the man’s gun up but not out of his hands. He fired, sending a quick smattering of rounds directly overhead into the drop ceiling.
Dust and chunks of ceiling tile fell around the two men. The sound was deafening and echoed in Eliza’s ears. She placed her hand over the stock, her finger over the trigger guard, then lifted it and put it on the trigger.