by Kyle Aho
Chapter V
Dante pointed his massive shotgun toward the desk. A terrified murmur came from underneath and two hands slowly lifted in surrender. Dante stared with an intensity that loosened the man’s bowels as he crawled out from underneath the desk wearing what looked like a gas mask. Bren motioned to Alistair to keep searching the area before walking over to interrogate.
“Please don’t shoot, I’m a scientist,” the man said, his voice cracking like a prepubescent teenager.
“What’s your name?” Bren asked. The scientist stared into the barrel of the shotgun.
“The man asked you a question,” Dante said. His voice was modulated ever so slightly by his bio-hardware so that he sounded almost demonic. The scientist cleared his throat and struggled to get his attention away from the gun pointed directly at him. “Julian Porter. Most of the other doctors call me JP. Sort of a social acceptance thing I suppose.”
“All right JP, what are you doing here? What’s with the mask?” Bren asked, glancing over to Alistair who was busy poking through some holo-pads in the corner of the room. Apate was still searching in the hallway nearby and nowhere to be seen.
“I am a researcher on this project. I am in charge of virtually every-”
“What’s going on? How come you’re the only one alive?” Bren said.
Julian was annoyed at the interruption but didn’t argue given the circumstances.
“Well I heard they would be sending help but I had hoped they would send trained scientists, not soldiers. Seeing as you gentlemen look like professionals I trust you will understand the importance of confidentiality and understand that I can’t discuss the project with you,” Julian said, as if his air of professionalism and confidence would end the conversation. Dante reminded the scientist of his presence with a growl. Julian was promptly brought back to reality before Dante could finish his audible displeasure. “But perhaps, given the circumstances I can, erm… bend security protocols.”
“Good idea,” Bren said as he flashed a patronizing grin.
“Ok, where to begin. This facility is part of the-” a shriek pierced the air and was followed by the unmistakable crack of energy weapons. Julian squealed like a terrified toddler and dropped to his knees before scuttling back under the desk. He cradled his knees and tried to suppress an anxiety attack. Everyone in the lab looked around as they tried to figure out what was going on. They heard the teeth rattling sound of metal being shorn apart, followed by a minor explosion from somewhere else in the facility.
The three men glanced at each other. Apate was not in the room with them.
“Apate, are you ok?” Bren radioed over the comm unit.
“I’m fine. Anyone know what that was?” she responded.
“Not yet but we’re about to find out. Where are you?”
“Down the hall inspecting another laboratory.”
“See if you can find out where that noise came from. I’m sending Alistair your way to help. Stay sharp.”
“On it,” she said.
Bren nodded to Alistair, who left the laboratory in search of Apate. Dante flipped the desk that Julian hid under and tossed it half way across the room with one arm. “Get up and start talking,” he said. Dante pointed his shotgun once again at the terrified scientist.
“Before I begin, I should let you know you are all going to die,” the scientist said matter-of-factly. Bren and Dante exchanged glances.
“How do you figure?” Bren asked.
“You’re here. You’ve broken the quarantine and you’re inside the facility without protection, which means you will not be leaving the facility.”
“We got in just fine, I don’t see why we can’t get out,” Bren said.
“Well you will probably leave but you won’t be alive when you do. Not exactly.”
“Now hold up a minute, you said there was a quarantine? Is there some kind of virus or something?” Dante asked.
“A parasite actually. In the air and the blood. By coming in here and letting it out you’ve probably killed the entire planet,” the scientist said. He relaxed as Dante lowered his gun.
“You don’t seem worried,” Bren countered to call JP’s bluff.
“I was hoping they would send in a qualified rescue team with hazardous material suits and an army to stop the creatures but it’s obvious to me now that is not your intention. That means the company only wants the information we gathered on the parasite and that we are all as good as dead. Expendable assets.”
“Look man, I’m tired of this, just tell us what the hell is going on and point us to the information you are talking about so we can get out of here,” Dante snapped, shaking his shotgun for emphasis.
“Bren, Dante, come in,” Alistair radioed. Bren sighed and stepped away from the scientist, who began speaking to Dante about the parasite.
“What is it?” Bren radioed back.
“We’ve got life.”
“Human?”
“Negative. I’m thinkin’ you guys are going t’want a look for yourselves.”
“Son of a bitch,” Bren said, instantly regretting it as the cranial bomb at the base of his skull started beeping, “biscuit! Son of a biscuit!”
“What about biscuits?” Alistair asked.
“Nothing. Hold tight, we’ll be there in a moment,” Bren replied.
“All right. Down the hall, hang a left, and then a right at the intersection.”
“Copy.”
Bren turned to face the scientist, who was sweating bullets as he looked down the barrel of Dante’s shotgun while trying to explain his research.
“Let’s go, Alistair and Apate found something. It sounds important.”
“Probably the containment labs. Tell them to keep the doors shut, it’s very important that the specimens don’t-”
Before Julian could finish his thought a drone, likely used as a surgical aid if the rotary saws, vice clamps, scalpels, and needles poking out from it were any indication, lazily hovered its way into the lab. Julian panicked. He dove for the overturned desk, only again to be dragged out by Dante. With no more effort than if he were a soda can, Dante lifted Julian into the air by the throat and held him at eye level, which was considerably higher than most people found comfortable.
“Get your crazy ass up. It’s just a drone, let’s go,” Dante said.
“No! You don’t understand, we have to hide!” the scientist shrieked, and glanced over his shoulder. The drone turned and hovered directly toward them. The scientist kicked and flailed but was locked in the air by Dante’s vice grip. Without warning the drone extended an arm with a whirling saw blade attached. It pushed the saw through flesh and bone until it exited through Julian’s chest. The poor man began to drool and gurgle as blood spewed upward in a messy arc from the rotation of the saw. Dante dropped him and pulled his hand away from the spinning blade. Julian fell and slid off the drone’s arm with a dull thud. Dante lifted his weapon and blasted the drone out of the air. Sparks and metal chunks flew everywhere as the drone spiraled to the floor and Bren was forced to jump out of the way to avoid the debris.
“That’s frakked up,” Dante said.
“What the heck man, watch it!” Bren shouted.
“His chest just exploded onto my face,” Dante said, his voice like liquid nitrogen as he wiped blood from his eyes.
“You could have shot me!”
“But did I?”
Bren decided it was best not to argue but he kicked the drone scrap to let out some frustration. He remembered all the bloody corpses on the way in and wondered if the drone had something to do with them. Bren grabbed a lab coat off the back of a chair and threw it to Dante. Dante gave an appreciative nod and wiped the gore from his face. They took one last look at Julian’s mangled body and went out into the hall to find Alistair and Apate.
“Did you say something about biscuits?” Dante asked as they navigated the halls. There were a few other mangled corpses along the way.
“What?” B
ren asked.
“I thought I heard you say you’ve got biscuits. I know we’re busy and all but I could use a snack.”
“I don’t have any biscuits, shut up and keep moving,” Bren replied as they rounded a corner decorated with several plaques denoting the ‘Researcher of the Month’. Alistair stared in horror through a window in the middle of the hall. Apate looked through a similar window on the other side.
“What’s wrong with ‘em?” Alistair asked as Bren and Dante caught up. Inside the window was a fully equipped surgical station with all of the machines and tools one would assume inhabited such a space. Blood coated the walls and dripped from the ceiling. No less than a dozen small monkeys were jumping around and swinging from equipment, bashing at the windows and breaking anything they could find. Despite their screaming no sound escaped the thick glass of the window. They couldn’t even hear the monkeys’ hands smacking against it.
As they stared in horrid fascination everyone could tell something about these monkeys looked out of place. At first they assumed it was just a coat of blood causing the fur to clump together and look like little scales. Unfortunately it was much more bizarre. Upon further examination it appeared as though short quills were poking out through the skin of each monkey, almost as if a porcupine was trying to fit into a monkey skin suit. Each monkey was proportioned differently as well. Some had an extra large arm or leg, a few had extra limbs, tails or heads. Each was a different variety of monstrosity, with tumors along every limb contorting their already warped bodies. Apate looked into a similar room but it was full of different birds. Long, serrated quills had replaced feathers and their beaks and talons looked rough and jagged, almost as if they had been crudely carved from obsidian. The birds were unable to fly freely in the enclosed space and searched for an exit. They tore apart the bodies of a few scientists that had been locked in when the specimens escaped.
“What the heck are they?” Bren asked, more to himself than anyone in particular.
“Hell if I know,” Dante answered, staring into the black eyes of a monkey-like creature that was viciously clawing at the window in hopes of tearing off his face.
“Where’s the man you found?” Apate asked, having taken in enough of the carnage in either room. She looked at the spattering of blood on Dante’s chest and raised an eyebrow.
“He was attacked by a surgical drone,” Bren said as if he was apologizing for his dog peeing on a pedestrian. Apate’s lips curled in distaste.
“We found an open one ‘round the corner an’ a little ways down,” Alistair said as he pulled himself from sight of the grisly rooms. They walked past several more laboratories full of raging, mutated animals and slowly approached an open door to a laboratory.
“Did you look inside?” Bren asked.
“We thought it would be better t’wait for backup,” Alistair said with a glance to Apate. She had her weapon raised and her head turned back and forth, scanning for any signs of movement.
“Got any of those ‘nades left?” Dante asked.
“Y’really think that’s necessary?” Alistair asked. He exchanged awkward glances with Bren and Dante, then shrugged and pulled out a grenade. “I’d get ‘round th’corner if I was you,” he said. He pulled the pin and tossed the grenade toward the door. The grenade bounced off the doorframe and rolled into the room. It detonated a few seconds later and sent a wave of heat down the hallway that felt like they were standing outside the mouth of a volcano. The team rounded the corner and walked into the room, weapons drawn.
Equipment hissed as it cooled and molten metal dripped from the ceiling. Despite the damage, the team could tell that there was nothing living in the room when the bomb went off. The charred remains of a few human skeletons smoked in the corner, as if they had been picked clean of most their flesh prior to incineration.
“What do you suppose would do that?” Bren asked, gesturing to the skeletons.
“The drones?” Alistair offered.
“I dunno, bugs? Maybe rats?” Dante suggested, kicking the remains of a small cage.
“Looks like mice. Look, it says muridae rodentia,” Apate chimed in, reading a placard on the wall outside the laboratory.
“So what, are there a bunch of flopping mice running around trying to gnaw our faces off?” Bren asked, amused.
“Certainly appears’at way,” Alistair responded. A moment later his brow furrowed as he mouthed the word ‘flopping’.
“I hate rats. Little bastards are gonna get a taste of my boot if they try biting my ankles,” Dante said, making no effort to hide his disgust.
“Well it doesn’t do us much good standing here, let’s get moving. Maybe the lab you found Dr. Porter in will have some more answers,” Apate said as she made her way back down the hall. The rest of the team exited the room and followed her, scanning the halls for any escaped creatures or rogue drones. Dante made a point to peer into each vent they passed, lest a cunning mouse dupe him.
They arrived back in the laboratory where they found Julian and discovered that his body had bite marks. Tiny ones.
“Oh hell no, those little bastards already got here and left?” Dante asked, scanning the room with his shotgun and kicking over desks. Their attention was drawn to the whir of servo tracks as a drone wheeled around the corner toward them.
Moving with purpose, the little drone navigated through the mess of debris with surprising efficiency and clamped two mechanical claws around each of Julian’s ankles. This one didn’t appear to have any weapons but the entire team stayed alert all the same. Against protesting gears, the drone dragged Julian’s body out of the lab and down the hall in a different direction from whence it came. It followed the trail of blood they had been following thus far. “Should we follow it?” Dante asked.
“Not now. Let’s check the computers,” Apate suggested.
Bren and Alistair nodded, each heading to a nearby machine as they searched for anything useful. Dante kept watch for rodents. Before long Alistair stumbled upon a file that looked promising. He tapped on the screen to open it and went to the first file in the folder. Julian’s face popped up, adjusting a low-resolution camera for a moment before he sat down and composed himself.
“I think I foun’ somethin’,” Alistair said. He turned the volume up as Apate and Bren joined him. Julian, on screen, cleared his throat and spoke.
“This is the video log of Dr. Julian Porter, working on a project that is proving to be truly mind blowing.”