John Hooks took a sip of coffee, which caused him to make a face at the bitterness. Operation Covington went into effect a few hours ago and he bet the poor bastard still hadn’t figured out he was a prisoner. Then again, his obsession with those rocks would keep him busy and hopefully not asking questions any time soon.
He read over the data once more, wondering what the unidentifiable compound had the potential to be. If his company could corner the market on a new source of fuel, Sunset Inc. would control the world. If there was a potential vaccine for cancer, he could charge people whatever he wanted, because of the limited supply.
Of course, there was always the possibility of it being nothing more than a neat new flavor of gum, or bacteria that ravaged the Earth of all its resources. He forced a chuckle to ward off the dark thoughts.
Lately, his mind wandered to the edgier side of things. Dora, his wife said it was because of his close call with death a few months ago. Out of the blue, his heart had seized while he was playing a round of golf with friends.
Today was his first official full day back at work, and though his doctor told him to take it easy, the fatigue taking him over let him know he’d pushed too hard. He shut down his computer, and picked up the phone to call Dora, when a red light on his desk went off.
Crap, he thought, that light was never supposed to go off.
John felt the blood drain from his face and flow to his overworked heart. Why the hell was that light on? Project Covington hadn’t been active for a full twenty-four hours yet, well at least part of it. He started running his own tests a week ago when the rocks first arrived, but his people were doing something different. His assistant, James Barrow, burst into the room, his ashen face a match to John’s.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious. Do you have anything else to add or should I hire a trained seal to do your job?”
“Sorry, the last few moments of footage we received showed an explosion in Dr. Covington’s lab. It seems he took a sample of rock, ground it up then placed it in one of the machines. Seconds later, the machine exploded. We lost contact ten seconds later.”
John took a deep breath and reached into his pocket to pull out the small container of nitroglycerin his doctor gave him for situations like this. He placed the small pill underneath his tongue and forced his breathing to even out.
“I take it, normal security procedures have been enacted?” he asked James.
“Yes, sir, the entire facility has been locked down. What do you want to do?”
“How long until emergency power kicks in?”
James looked uncomfortable. “Not sure, the electricians are looking into it.”
“Motivate them to look harder,” John yelled.
He needed to think. A small lab explosion was nothing to get too worried over. It could’ve been caused by anything; faulty equipment, a crossed wire, misuse of the machine, and lastly, what was placed inside to be analyzed.
He never thought these rocks could contain something that he could weaponize. With tensions rising around the world over oil shortages, this was the perfect time to come out with a brand new “I can kill you more” weapon.
The samples were now priority one.
“Get a strike team ready. I want Monroe to head it up.”
James stuttered as he spoke, “Monroe won’t like that.”
“I don’t care what he likes. He does what I tell him to do, or I find someone who will.”
James left the room to make the necessary arrangements, while John picked up the phone to let Dora know he was going to be late for dinner.
He could tell she was mad. After thirty years of marriage, he knew this was an expensive weekend away somewhat upset. He forced the thought out of his head and pushed the power switch on his tablet. He’d had the electronics division connect him directly into their feed so he could monitor everything in the facility.
No one could sneeze without him knowing about it. He called up fifteen minutes of footage before the accident. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except two things. On Level 14, he saw an unfamiliar face meddling with some vials, dropping a few on the floor. The second thing was on Level 8, a technician wandering around the room and stopping in odd places.
John tried to zoom in, but he couldn’t see anything. A minute later, the screen went blank. Dr. Covington’s mishap triggered their security protocols. Each floor would be locked down, no going up or down. The elevators would be shut down, as would communications.
Certain floors would now be “armed” in case anyone was trying to steal from him. Monroe was the only one familiar enough to send in, and if he was lucky, come out alive. John glanced at the time. A full three minutes had passed and he still had no visual. The one thing he wanted maintained under any circumstances was visual.
“James, why don’t I have visual, dammit?”
The empty room didn’t respond, but something about this didn’t seem right. He would take notes on what he saw and get James to investigate.
Frank eased his feet up on the seats next to him. A glass of 100-year-old Scotch swished in the glass on his stomach as the limo moved at a steady pace to the airport. His phone vibrated and he ignored it. The third time he glanced at the caller ID and almost fell off the seat when he saw the corporate number.
He cleared his throat and answered, “Monroe, what can I do for you, Mr. Hooks?”
Frank swallowed the amber fluid in one swig and grabbed the bottle to prepare for the bad news he felt coming. That idiot Covington did something; he just knew it.
“I need you to turn around. A strike team will be landing at the airstrip in four hours. You need to have a plan ready to take them into the silo and protect the samples. The damage appears to be minimal, but I want eyes in there and the place up and running in seventy-two hours.”
The sound of his teeth grinding echoed in his head. “Sir, are you absolutely sure this is necessary?”
“You know that place better than anyone; you have your orders now do it.”
The line went dead. Frank let his head fall back on the seat rest. When he got his hands on that idiot scientist, he was going to break his scrawny neck.
Arthur woke to his name being yelled, though it sounded funny and far away. Hands shook him and he motioned he was fine and he slowly got into a sitting position. Someone in a singed white suit moved from him to another victim.
Grabbing the edge of one of the examination tables Arthur pulled himself to his feet to see if there was anything, he could do to help. He walked over to the window of the observation room and tapped the person on the shoulder.
A response was not expected, since a good portion of their internal organs was spread across the display panel, the rest dripping onto the lab floor.
Arthur didn’t know if it was dust from the explosion, fog from his breathing, or something else that made it difficult to see. His hearing came and went in one ear, but the other seemed to be normal. A man came up next to him and reached inside the observation room. He ripped the nametag off the body and showed it to Arthur, it read Williams.
“If you find a body, take something that identifies who it is, that way we can notify the families.”
Arthur nodded; he looked down and saw the name of this guard was Dixon.
“Now, tell me what the hell happened. This room is part of a silo. The damn thing is built to take a nuclear attack and you did something with a bit of rock and took out half the goddamn floor.”
Arthur stammered as he tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind. “I don’t know. I ran some tests and thought there had to be an error in the weight versus density readings. Something inside made them lighter, but there were also elements that reacted with the light. I have no way of knowing exactly what happened without studying them more.”
Dixon laughed darkly. “I don’t think you’re going to be studying anything but your bellybutton when you get out of here.”
Arthur had to agree. This was a huge blemish on his record, and Sunset Inc. was sure to cut him loose. The best he could do was to be useful. He went to a body splayed in the corner of the room. From the size, he knew it was the other guard. He hoped it was the mean one. Checking for a pulse was difficult due to the suit, but when he yanked on the shoulder, he realized he would not find one.
The man’s face was half melted to the floor, his mask seared to his forehead. His stomach was split open by the edge of a now warped filing cabinet. The blood flowed freely and Arthur felt the warmth around his knees. He felt the gorge rise in his throat and he positioned his hands to remove the upper portion of his mask. Small but strong hands stopped him.
He turned and read the nametag, Smith. “I need to get this off,” Arthur pleaded with the lab assistant.
“Not yet, we don’t know if any contaminants were released into the air.”
“And we won’t know until power comes back on and that could be days,” Arthur countered.
Smith opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, a look of fear crossed her face. Arthur turned his head in the direction where her eyes were transfixed and saw the body of the guard twitch. He backed away, slipping in the gore. The need to vomit was taking over, but he suppressed it.
He watched as the wrecked remains of the guard turned over and faced him. A dark fluid ran from its mouth when it moved its jaw in a chewing motion. Seconds later, it spit out what Arthur could only guess was part of its tongue.
Arthur and Smith both worked their way to the other side of the lab, Arthur crab walking backwards. When a hand reached out from underneath his desk to stop him, he could not stop the shrill scream from escaping his throat. Smith slapped him, but it didn’t stop the noise.
Dixon appeared and kicked him in the solar plexus, cutting off his air for a few moments.
“Is there a reason you’re screaming like a girl?”
Arthur pointed behind the big guard as he tried to force air into his lungs. A second later, a charred hand grabbed Dixon by the shoulder.
“Biggs, man, you okay?” he asked his friend.
Biggs stared blankly, his teeth grinding together. Slowly, he moved forward and let out a guttural moan.
“Hey, I need some help here,” Dixon said.
Arthur wondered if the man was dense. Couldn’t he see his buddy was beyond helping? Half his face was missing, he’d spit out his tongue, and now with a better look, Arthur could see one of his eyes was gone.
Dixon moved forward to help him and Smith went to help whatever was on the other end of the hand wrapped around Arthur’s ankle.
“Whoa, man, take it easy. I got you.” Dixon tried to help his friend to a sitting position, but he refused. “What the hell?”
All of a sudden, a flurry of movement and Dixon was fighting for his life. Biggs was trying to bite him, but the suit prevented him from getting hold of anything. With a well-placed foot, Dixon pushed his former friend, now attacker, back a few feet. Just enough time for him to pull out his Desert Eagle and put a hole the size of a bowling ball in the chest of Biggs and knocking him to the ground.
With a sigh, Dixon looked at the survivors, an indescribable expression on his face. Arthur wanted to say something consoling, but decided on, “look out behind you,” when he saw Biggs stand up once more.
Dixon turned. “How--” There was no time for him to finish the sentence as he put a round in the thing’s head, knocking it clear off the body. For a few moments, it stood there, spurting blood like a demonic fountain, but eventually it fell to the ground.
“I found Benson. He’s okay, help me dig him out of here,” Smith yelled.
Arthur wanted to tell everyone to be quiet. They were making too much noise and he had a bad feeling about what was going on.
Ten minutes later, they’d freed the other lab assistant and Arthur noted his suit was still intact. He let out a breath and tried to think of what their next move should be.
The four of them stood for a moment. Then Dixon walked over to Biggs and ripped off what was left of the patch with his name on it. A groan to the right caused the pressure in Arthur’s bladder to increase.
Williams managed to free herself from the window she’d been impaled on. She turned toward them, her face a mess of shattered bones, the result of impact with supposedly unbreakable glass. She let out a pathetic moan and hitched her right leg as she moved forward. Her left arm hung at an odd angle, but she raised her right one just fine as she reached out for Smith.
The sight terrified all of them except Dixon, who pulled out his weapon and blew half her head off. Arthur heard the slap of her brain as it hit the floor; he didn’t need to look for confirmation.
“We need to get the hell out of here and to the armory at the end of the hall. All I have is this gun, and if we’re going to be running into more of these things, I’m going to need a hell of a lot more in my arsenal, and something not so damn noisy,” Dixon said.
“That’s great for you, but what about us? We’d like to be able to protect ourselves just in case one of those things kills you,” Smith retorted.
Arthur decided that insane people surrounded him. Two bodies had just come back from the dead like some bad horror movie and they were taking it in stride. He thought he might wet himself, and they were arguing about weapons.
“You can have all the damn guns you want, lady, but we need to get to the armory first.” Dixon moved to the door and pushed the button for the panel.
Nothing happened and Arthur heard the man swearing a blue streak. The emergency lights in the lab started to flicker, most likely a wiring issue. The explosion caused most of the ceiling to collapse, and a thought struck him. The cold chill that gripped his spine earlier, returned.
“Dixon, what kind of safety measures does the lab have in place for something like this?”
The guard stopped hitting the wall and faced Arthur. “Full containment of the affected area, lockdown of all other floors.”
“I know all that. What I mean is, there has to be some sort of ventilation system in place that stops air flow, or sucks out possibly contaminated air?”
“The air systems are all interconnected with junctions on each level. If this floor was infected with something, the next junction would stop the transmission of whatever it was to the next floor.”
“Then we have a decision to make and it isn’t going to be an easy one.” Arthur walked over to a portion of the venting system that now lay in a crumpled heap on top of the center table. “This is a junction box, so whatever was in here is on the floor above us. If nothing happened there, the people don’t know they’re breathing contaminated air,” Arthur said.
Smith looked like she’d been hit in the gut, or at least Arthur assumed, since it was hard to tell behind the masks they were all wearing.
“Oh, my God, my husband’s up there. We need to warn them,” Smith screamed.
Dixon kicked a chunk of the wall and one of the drawers containing the samples rolled out. “Then we need to figure a way out of here,” he said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We have no idea what’s out there,” Benson said.
“Stop whining and help me, Benson,” the big man replied.
Arthur made his way over and grabbed one of the rocks, placing it in a canvas carrying case with a small lock on it. A thin layer of lead lined it, providing him a small measure of safety, as he stuffed it into one of the outside pockets on the suit.
“You guys crack the code yet?” Arthur asked.
The glares sent his way let him know that both he and his jokes were not welcome.
Fine, he thought, I’ll find my own way out of here.
Digging up his discarded jacket, he picked out the laminated map “the man” whose name he now knew was Monroe, gave him.
The observation room might be an option. He climbed through the trashed window and stumbled onto the floor as he slipped on part of Williams. He held back the bile and heard the others coming in after him.
As he suspected an emergency exit led into the hallway, most likely in case something like this happened. Quarantine the scientists, but make sure the others can get out.
“Not bad, Doc, now let’s get to that armory.” Dixon smiled.
All four of them needed to put their weight into opening the door. After much protesting, it finally gave way. Arthur had no idea how this qualified as an emergency exit, then decided nothing much made sense here.
Dixon exited first with the aid of a gnarled hand wrapped around his neck. He let out a scream and Benson jumped into the hallway after him. Arthur knew his days were numbered, because Sunset Inc. would kill him for the cost of damages he’d caused alone.
What the hell, he thought, and joined them.
Dixon was fighting for his life with three contaminated people. Unlike those in the lab, these were more grotesque in appearance. Their greenish skin made them look lizard like in the flickering emergency lights.
The Desert Eagle went off a few more times, but only two of the things went down. One with an aerial view of its brain, most of the top missing, and the other missing a leg from the hip down. Arthur felt helpless as he watched Benson try to help Dixon free himself of the third attacker. From the looks of it, it was a woman. Long blonde hair soaked with blood, and when he caught a glimpse of her face, he noticed a milky white substance covering her eyes as blood dripped from her mouth.
The one legged thing made its way over and was trying to climb Arthur’s leg. He kicked at it and he almost threw up when his foot went straight through the man’s ribcage. He pulled out his entrails encrusted foot and brought it down once more on the head of the thing, several times for good measure.
He watched the body on the ground in front of him, waiting for it to move. A large puddle of brain matter and bone shards spread out on the floor where the head was. Benson came up behind him and Arthur nearly jumped through the ceiling.
“Nice foot work.”
Arthur nodded, not knowing what to say in response. Smith walked ahead of him and Arthur followed the group toward the armory.