“How does it work?”
“I think it’s one of those secret doors. Look here, there’s a spring at the top.”
I move the door to the closed position, but the latch doesn’t work. Pressing against where the spring rests, we hear a click, and the door stays in place. Emily pushes against the same spot and the door opens again. As we pull the door open, my stomach becomes a pit of anticipation, dark and nervous.
From the bowels of the basement, a rattling of metal on metal faintly sounds. Emily’s eyes are determined. “There’s something down there. I know that for sure. I can feel it.” She leads the way down, deliberately and carefully, using the lamp to guide her. She finds two more lanterns and lights them while the rattling continues. Once in the basement, we see workbenches lining two walls next to the stairs and wrapping around to the opposite side. Instead of hammers, screwdrivers, or drills, there’s science equipment complete with an industrial microscope, incubator, vials, and beakers, and some sort of pump. Pinned up on the walls are a combination of news clippings and some scientific information. Yarn connects pictures of people we don’t recognize except one of Marisol before she became sick.
“What is all this stuff? A science fair?” Emily asks.
“I don’t know, but I wonder if it has something to do with that article.” Behind us, the rattling bellows clearer now. “What is that noise?”
“I’m afraid to find out,” Emily confides. That makes both of us. The space from where the noise is coming is dark and the light from the lanterns casts eerie shadows on the canvas tarp blocking our view.
While I am fixated on the tarp and the sound of rattling metal behind it, Emily moves along one of the benches. Without breaking my eye contact, I whisper, “What are you doing?”
“I was thinking that since there aren’t any windows in here, there’s got to be some kind of light source. Maybe a generator. One of the first things I noticed when we came down here was the smell of gasoline.” I take a deep breath and sure enough, there it is. Faint, but definitely there. I admire Emily’s way of figuring things out.
“Well, hurry up. This sound is freaking me out.” Then, as if on cue, the rattling intensifies, and I swear I hear snorting or growling. An animal? Perhaps. Since they have some kind of makeshift laboratory built down here, maybe they’ve been experimenting on animals. That makes sense, but this realization doesn’t make me feel any less unsettled.
“I found something,” Emily says. I hear some clicking and then a whirring noise from a machine or engine struggling to come alive. Finally, the motor hums loudly. Loudly enough to drown out the snorting and much of the rattling. Tubes of fluorescent lights flicker above for several seconds before kicking on, causing us to squint in the dull brightness. “There, that’s better.” Emily pokes my back directing me away from the canvas to where she is looking. I read over the newspaper articles which frame the wall. Each headline boasts a “cure” for vampirism and a safer, new world. “What is all this?” Emily asks, already knowing the answer to her question. It’s obvious that Sebastian Labs’ main focus was to eradicate vampires altogether, not just help those who have been turned. The question was: how close were they to doing it? The thought sends shivers like a wave up my spine.
The rattling behind the tarp startles us, ushering in a different kind of fear. We look at each other, our throats dry with anticipation. I grab the canvas. Looking back at Emily, she nods at me, her eyes wide. Slowly, I unveil a makeshift cage.
What we see chills us to our very core. It isn’t an animal. It isn’t even human. Attached on either side of the cage are chains. Our eyes follow those chains to a leather belt. The belt is fastened around the waist of a boy who is no longer human. He’s a Feaster now. Upon seeing us, he grows more aggressively, and his chains rattle more fiercely. His skin is a pale grayish yellow; the color of a Feaster that has been one for a while. The saddest sight is his glazed over, lifeless eyes. The skin is deteriorated enough so that his eyelids are virtually nonexistent, revealing bulged eyes. Yet, there’s still a boyishness about him. His hair, unhealthy and soiled, is still parted to the side. It’s not often I allow myself to feel sorry for a Feaster, but I find my heart aching for him. How much pain does a family have to hold in their hearts to keep at least the faintest memory of someone they love locked away in this condition? It’s as if there’s some level of hope that one day everything will be normal again.
“That’s not who I think it is, is it?” Emily asks, clearly still trying to make sense of everything.
“I think it is,” I move to the pictures on the wall. “It’s hard to tell but it has to be Carissa’s brother, Case. I saw him in my dream,” I recall. “He was on the swings. When he got off, he was one of them. A Feaster. Marisol called him. As she hugged him, he sank his teeth into her neck.”
“I remember you telling us that. Kieran, what’s happening?”
“I have no idea, but I’m scared. Not for us. We need to get to Sebastian Labs and rescue Andrew,” I say, my brain racing.
“Yes, let’s go. But first, we have to take care of him.” She raises her bow with an arrow already fixed in place as Case defiantly growls and rattles the chains. His feet kicking around the bones of what I hope to be only animals. The sound of his chomping teeth pops in the air over the generator. I look away. This is one kill I have no interest in seeing. I wait to hear the whistle of the arrow and the crack of Case’s skull as the arrow plants in his head. Nothing. Turning to look at Emily, the arrow is still aimed, but her cheeks are wet with tears. The bow shakes in her hand. “I can’t,” she whispers. I reach for her arms and gently guide them down. “But we have to,” she protests weakly. “It’s the right thing to do,” she chokes out, holding back sobs.
“We don’t have to.” I rest my forehead against hers and lock eyes. “I totally get it. It’s not fair. You don’t have to do this. Let’s go get Andrew.” We stare at Case, feeling sad for him.
Finally, we rummage through the lab in hopes of finding anything we may need and make our exit. There is one thing left to do. Grabbing the gasoline container I find next to the generator, I spill a line from the foyer, down the concrete walkway, and to the curb. I light a match and toss it on the gasoline. Satisfied, we watch the fire race its way to the house and scream its way through the front door.
Emily makes the Camaro come alive. As we stare out the window, the last thing we see before we race away is the silhouette of Case standing outside the fence, watching the fire consume the place he once called home. It’s not a thing we’ve done before – showing mercy for a Feaster – but in our hearts this kill didn’t feel right. Releasing him is the only way that we can live with ourselves. Sure, it may put others at risk, but something continues to tug at our hearts. My eyes can’t escape the image of this boy who must have been loved so much.
Chapter Ten
Sebastian Labs
Sebastian Labs sits as one of the main buildings that surround Centre Square. It replaced an old Woolworths department store and added some offices on the 2nd and 3rd floors. When Sebastian Labs took over the building, they promised to pump millions of dollars into our little community, and it did just that by revitalizing Centre Square and the buildings around it. Because of the laboratory’s generosity, our entire town benefitted by going through its own type of Renaissance. Centre Square became the hub for everything into our town; art fairs, swap meets, and holiday gatherings including Memorial Day celebrations and Easter egg hunts. Soon, specialty stores and fusion restaurants popped up, offering everything from crystal therapy to Indian food. People from neighboring towns often joined in the celebrations on any given weekend or an extended holiday. Our once sleepy little town became alive.
The scientific community outside our town began to take note of Sebastian Labs’ small, yet efficient operations especially when they claimed to have completed studies for two of the five Ebola virus strains. Our community wasn’t very happy in finding out that Sebastian Labs was researc
hing deadly diseases right there in the middle of town, but when the government confirmed the laboratory’s findings, they pumped millions into more research. It wasn’t long before some of that money found its way into our community, which served as a nice compensation package for the town.
About five years before everything ended up the way it is today, there were whispers of some type of vaccine for vampirism. It wasn’t long before those rumors were reported in newspapers and magazines. However, it wasn’t enough to cause a rift between our kind and the humans, but it certainly raised eyebrows and presented what ifs. What if these poor vampires could be cured of who they are? What if society could feel safer if vampirism was eradicated? Obviously, those what ifs stopped, and new ones started. What if the Feasters took over the world? What if…?
We now have about three hours of darkness before the sun rises. Looking up, the clouds blanket the sky so no stars can be seen. Even if we don’t make it inside Sebastian Labs in time, we may have a few more hours to get to safety. In order to not draw attention to ourselves from humans or zombies, we ditch the car a few blocks away and make the rest of the trip hiding in the shadows and taking down whatever Feaster stands in the way of saving Andrew. By the look in her eyes, Emily’s determination may not rest in taking out Feasters only.
I’m sickened as I look over Centre Square. Once a place where we would join others in celebration and feelings of pride, now sits in ruins. Storefront windows smashed. Others charred from the inside leaving tongues of soot and ash on brick facades. Trash sits in every corner of this once beautiful place. Right in the middle of Centre Square rests the torched remnants of a military helicopter where the Grand Gazebo used to be – its rotor blades and landing skid buried into the ground. Trails of blood and bullet holes echo and dot the sides of buildings, and cars, and on the streets and concrete sidewalks. Then, there’s the smell. The rancid odor of death, of loss, fills the air and looms largely as if this place, once a symbol of unity and life, now serves as the epicenter of lost hope. It fills the nose and consumes the mind. Centre Square, a place where celebrations once came to life with happy families and children and cotton candy, now paints a completely different picture. Feasters, long turned, meander about as if this place still holds some kind of meaning. Some walk side by side, while others bump into each other. In a place where everyone was almost always kind, these zombies offer little pleasantries.
The storefront windows of Sebastian Labs are mostly broken. In their place, steel-like window shutters are now rolled into place like garage doors securing anything from getting in. The windows on the second and third floors are intact. Realizing, the front isn't an option for us, we carefully move down the alley between buildings and around back. We pause at the corner. Parked near the entrance is Harold’s minivan, and a small group of young Feasters bunch around the entrance into Sebastian Labs.
“They’re here. So, what’s the plan?” Emily inquires.
“Any plan is as good as the other. What I’m wondering about is why those Feasters are still interested in that door. They usually lose interest after a while.”
“So, what are you thinking?”
Silent for a second, I contemplate, “I’m thinking that door has been recently opened. Despite them getting a head start, we may not be too far behind them.”
“So, then how should we approach this?”
“Why are you asking me? You’re the one with the great plans. What do you think?”
Emily arms her compound bow, and one by one drops all five Feasters by the door. Then, she grabs the crowbar and walks past me. Looking back, she cocks an eyebrow signaling for me to follow her. I do. She gets to the door and buries the flat claw into where the deadbolt is secured. Prying on the crowbar, she pops the lock in two tries.
“This is your plan?” I ask her with a snicker.
“Like you said, it’s as good as any,” she says determined and walks into Sebastian Labs.
“Well, you don’t win any points for creativity,” I say and close the door behind me.
“We’ll get creative when we need to. For right now? Let’s get Andrew.”
Inside Sebastian Labs, aside from a dull hum, it’s quiet. Fluorescent lights, dimly lit and flickering sporadically, light the halls. I note the obvious: that Sebastian Labs has a generator or some kind of emergency backup power. Emily and I move along the hallways silently, like evening snow falling after the world has gone asleep. Weapons in hand, we try to figure out where we’re going while knowing full well that we should expect anything. We move past a few doors, checking the handles to see if each is locked. As we approach the end of the hallway, it intersects with another. Posted on the wall where the hallways intersect are signs which indicate the directions to various offices and laboratories. After each label, an arrow points in the direction of the place. Listed are Laboratories 1-3, Laboratories 4-6. Billing, Technology, Examination Rooms, and Containment Rooms 1-2. Containment Rooms 3-4. Arrows for each point either left or right.
Emily and I lock eyes. I shrug my shoulders, indicating that her guess was as good as any. It’s then that I think about my dream of Andrew on the gurney. I realize that this place has a familiar feel to it. I peek my head around the corner and like a flood, my dream washes over me. I whisper to Emily, “This feels like the place from my dream. Originally, I thought it was a hospital, but this makes complete sense.”
“So, now what? Which way?”
Closing my eyes, I search my mind for the details of the dream. I feel the gurney under me as it moves through the hallways. Looking up, I see the two people pushing me. I search for anything; anything to help make sense of where to go. The badge on the man talking to me catches my attention. I slow down the memory and focus my attention on it, blurring out everything else. It comes into focus. Sebastian Labs and under it, the name: Harold Croger. Well, I figured as much. We race down the hallway again. I’m seeing signs as we pass them. Slowing things down again my eyes search for them. Containment Room 2. We move to the next room. Laboratory 5.
“Okay, I’ve got it. I think I know which way.” I lead Emily cautiously down the shadowy hallway, and I can’t help but notice the intermittent places where some kind of trauma occurred. Splattering of blood. Chunks of what appears to be decayed, bodily remains. The hallway reminds me of Centre Square after the Feasters took over. It looks like Sebastian Labs wasn’t spared the attack.
As we approach the first rooms, large glass windows of Containment Rooms 1 and 2 sit on opposite sides of the hallway. The lighting down the hallway flickers as if the fluorescents can’t decide whether to stay on or not. Ahead on the right, just past the Containment Rooms, is Laboratory 5. It is the only room in this hallway that is lit. We slink across the hallway to the other side, crouching as we approach Containment Room 1. As we get halfway past the window, we hear a BLAM against the window. Emily and I are sent sprawling across the floor. We look at the window where the sound came from. Pressed against the glass window, a Feaster stares at us out from the darkness of the room, its jaws snapping at the air. Then, one-by-one, faces of more than several dozens of Feasters reveal themselves filling the window of the dark room. I notice each one with a varying shade of decay tells us that some have been Feasters longer than others.
“Kieran?” Emily asks unable to take her eyes off the faces on the other side of the glass. “What the heck is happening?”
Explanation escapes me. What kind of madman would keep a room full of Feasters? Are we in over our heads with this rescue mission? We scurry over to the other side of the hallway under the window of the opposite containment room. It occurs to me that this room may also be filled with Feasters. I point up to Emily, and she understands me. From the floor, we both peer into the mostly dark room. There aren’t any Feasters, but inside is another window that has a direct view inside Laboratory 5.
Emily and I get to our knees and spy into the second window. The lights from Laboratory 5 shine into Containment Room 2. From where we a
re, we can’t see much, but it looks like there’s a curtain and an IV stand and some things on the walls, although it’s too difficult to make them out. Suddenly, Carissa walks to the window, not to look into the next room, but to examine her own reflection. Emily rolls her eyes.
To get a better look, we sneak into Containment Room 2 and move to the window. Looking in, we see two gurneys. Strapped into one of them is Marisol who’s looking very sickly. In the other, is Andrew, asleep, or at least we hope he is. Attached to his arm is an IV with tubing stretching across to Marisol’s.
We’re both relieved to see him and scared as we sit up against the wall contemplating what to do next. “What should we do?” I ask Emily.
Gathering herself, she closes her eyes for a long moment. Finally, she says, “It’s the same as before.”
“You mean, we don’t have a plan.”
She readies her bow and fixes it with an arrow. “Exactly.” She moves away from the window and stands up. I join her moving towards the door, my machete fixed in my hand. Just as her hand reaches for the handle, the door lock activates. CLICK! She pulls at the door repeatedly, but it won’t open. I join her in giving it a try. It doesn’t budge. Emily tries again, this time ripping the knob off the door.
“What is happening?” I ask, panicked.
“I don’t know! The stupid door won’t open!” Emily yells.
“The crowbar.” I remind her.
She reaches into my pack and it’s not there. “Where is it?” She asks, her panic matching mine.
As she searches in the backpack, I move to the window looking out into the hallway. There on the floor sits the crowbar. When we were startled by the Feasters from the containment room, it must have fallen out of my pack. “I found it,” I say, my eyes still fixed on it in the hallway.
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