A dark hallway split in two. A beam of bright light slivered from the crack of the door, separating the hallway into sections. The silhouette of a man stepped into the doorframe and paused. It was Pierce. He was still unarmed and reluctant. He was being forced to step outside first. His job now was being a human shield. Dimitri nudged him forward a few steps. He carefully ventured into the unknown hallway. Hanna was a step behind Dimitri. After that, Russell helped Gail over the threshold. On the exit, Russell tossed his red security procedure card to the floor. There was no need to carry it. Procedure didn’t matter anymore.
Pierce arrived inside the main corridor of the second facility. The run-down building was vast. Cluttered equipment rooms and workbenches lined the sides of the entrance. The odor of sulfur was difficult to ignore. He had crossed through this space a couple of hours prior and never thought he’d be back this soon. He looked back to Dimitri with a pleading frown. “This is a mistake,” said Pierce in a whisper.
Dimitri was unshaken. He shoved Pierce forward and pointed the gun down the hallway. He didn’t trust Pierce and wanted to make sure, if there were any traps, Pierce would be the first to experience them.
Another large room came into view as Hanna stepped through a series of rusted-out double doors. She surveyed the area with a perplexed scowl. Obviously, no one had been in this place for years. She had been to dozens of bases since she started working at the DOD, and nothing had ever looked like this. The ceilings looked heavy. Pipes and ductwork hung above them. They were made of heavy steel and kept together with large bolts the size of fists. God, if these things fall…
The air was stale. The hot, arid desert climate had mummified the place. No life could tolerate such dry conditions. Perhaps only spiders. They seemed to enjoy the warmth and solitude. Hanna watched the men drift through the large facility. She appreciated their lead. After all, Dimitri had the gun. She angled back to Gail, who was slumped over into Russell’s embrace. She needed his support to make it. She was having difficulty walking.
The group exited from a doorway. Dimitri noticed a large freight elevator surrounded by a large cinder-block wall. It was large enough to drive a car inside. The doors were metallic and worn. The elevator had seen many years of service. A large yellow-and-black caution stripe wrapped from edge to edge. Dimitri pushed past Pierce and moved to a button panel on the cinder block. There were only three buttons: one up, one down, and a red call button. They were round and looked like mushrooms popping out from the plate. The panel looked as though it was from the fifties. The manufacturer’s name was engraved on the top in a vintage style: Everly Co. He started hitting the buttons immediately. The buttons were sticky. They seemed to have been out of service for a while. There was no movement. The elevator was dead. Stuck.
Pierce walked around the elevator and checked to see if they were alone. They seemed to be the only souls. He walked back to Dimitri, still pondering his next move.
“Told you. Base is on lockdown. We should go back.”
“This is how you came? This thing looks as if it’s been sitting dead for years,” Dimitri replied.
“Don’t know what to tell you,” said Pierce, and he continued to keep a lookout.
Dimitri looked toward another door just a few feet away. A stairwell sign protruded from the wall. He pointed at it and smiled with the obvious choice. “What about the stairs?”
“They just go up. Up to the operational offices on the second and third floors. The elevator is the only way down to the digs.”
Dimitri moved his attention back to the button panel. “I need to get inside that panel.”
Pierce shook his head in frustration as Dimitri shoved off.
The flickering of a light switch interrupted the dark room. The group of weary survivors shuffled in one at a time from an adjoining hallway. Dimitri was first. He raised the gun forward like a cop and scanned the environment. The coast was clear, but he felt compelled to keep himself ready.
The room was smaller than the room they had been contained in. About five hundred square feet. Most of it was taken up by shelving and a large center island with a sink. The room was some type of laboratory. A row of large windows looked out into the dark industrial space outside. The walls were white and lined with three-inch square porcelain tiles. It was the kind of smooth texture that could be easily cleaned, and it had a morgue-like quality to it. A gray office phone was on one of the counters. It dated the room to the early nineties.
Dimitri and Hanna spotted the telephone at the same time. Dimitri lowered the gun and quickly stepped toward it. He placed the receiver to his ear. His face soured. The phone was dead. No dial tone. He clicked the return button a few times. He shook his head and tossed the receiver back to the countertop.
Hanna leaned over his shoulder, keeping her voice low to avoid a public discussion. “How much time do you need for that elevator?” she asked.
Dimitri shook his head. “I don’t know.”
He then walked off, leaving Hanna unsettled.
Gail stepped into the room and leaned up against the wall. She was at the brink. Her legs were buckling at the knees. Her head was throbbing. Her body felt as if it was on fire. It was like influenza on hyperdrive. Her face was shiny with sweat, and the whites in her eyes were yellowed with fatigue. Her face looked drawn. “I can’t go any farther.” She sighed. “You guys go get some help.”
Russell didn’t like the sound of that. He worried about splitting up. It seemed like another bad idea.
“I’ll be fine here,” Gail replied as she noticed Russell’s concern. “Do what you have to do. I’ll just slow you down anyway.”
“I ain’t leaving you here,” replied Russell.
“What happens when you get out there? I can hardly walk. If there is some shit going on, I’m a liability.”
Russell looked over to Hanna a few yards away. She was listening in on the conversation.
“I’ll stay with you,” said Russell.
“No. They need you more than I do. I’ll be fine here,” Gail replied.
Pierce backed up across the room toward Gail and Russell’s huddle. He was focused on the hallway outside. “I’ll stay with her. We’ll be fine in this room for now,” Pierce said.
Russell and Hanna angled back toward the man’s comment. A lingering feeling of shared distrust remained among them. Although Pierce’s job was to protect the base and those on it, he seemed to be a mystery. Hanna looked toward Russell to get his approval.
He was even more reluctant than she was. He was distrustful of the security police to begin with. He often compared them to the gestapo. They were secretive, arrogant, and, most troubling, unaccountable for their actions. They enjoyed autonomy because of their clearance. When they weren’t running trespassers and coyotes off base, they typically spent their time creeping out the civilian contractors. No one liked them, and this day especially Russell did not either.
“Worry about yourselves,” Gail said. She then looked to Pierce. “You want to stay here, that’s on you too. I don’t need you here.”
Despite the obvious concern, Hanna knew she was right. Bringing her would be a liability. Pierce was also in bad shape. He was clutching his ribs and seemed to be in some level of pain — maybe from the fall he had taken earlier when he entered the containment space.
Across the room, Dimitri located a lower shelf that hid a red plastic toolbox. It was heavy and overstuffed with useful objects. He pulled it out and set it on the counter above. There were screwdrivers, a large wrench, and a few flashlights, including an elastic head lamp. The toolbox was some type of emergency kit, and whoever left it was a saint. It was just what he needed to do his work on the elevator. He quickly fit two long screwdrivers into his coverall pockets and then a hammer. He stretched the elastic head lamp band around his head and positioned the light above his brow.
Dimitri tossed one of the handheld flashlights across the room toward Russell. It was all Russell could do to catch it. He fumbled it around for a few seconds before getting a handle on it.
Dimitri then turned to Hanna. He handed her the heavy wrench and her own flashlight. The wrench wasn’t for fixing. It was for her protection. With a simple click, Dimitri turned on his head lamp, blinding her eyes with a barrage of cool LED brightness.
“Let’s go,” he muttered. He pivoted toward the door and exited.
Russell looked back at Gail once last time and backed toward the hallway with regret. She nodded to him for reassurance, but he still wasn’t sold. He locked eyes with Pierce. The message was clear. Pierce had to take care of her.
Three separate beams of light sliced and diced through the darkness of a long stairwell. Dimitri moved into the lead with the gun ready. Russell was more than willing to let him go first, but he made sure Hanna was between them. Each heavy thud down onto the metal steps sent a hollow reverberating clamor rocketing down the several flights below them. The noise was excruciating and impossible to avoid.
Anyone down there will know we’re coming now, Hanna thought painfully, grimacing with each wrenching moment.
The smell of the stairwell was thick and intoxicating. Every step kicked up dust, slowly sealing off the nostrils from air and adding weight to the lungs. Dimitri moved to the second landing and stopped, creating a bottleneck effect. His head lamp shone forward and cast a beam of light through the lingering dust in the air. The group was at the end of the staircase. An open doorway led out into another uninviting dark space. Their arrival wasn’t stealth by any means, and someone — or something — could just as easily be waiting to attack from inside. Dimitri proceeded with caution. He aimed his gun forward.
The doorway was only about ten yards from where they stood, but descending the last few steps seemed to take forever. Hanna moved her wrench up into an attack position and stayed close to Dimitri. Russell angled back toward the upper staircase. He hoped to God they weren’t walking into an ambush.
Dimitri slid to the surface of the wall to get a better look at the outside. He waved to the others to stay put. He slid his back along the wall slowly, getting a better perspective of another room. The coast was clear. He motioned to Hanna and Russell that it was OK.
The trio quickly filed through the door and looked around. Russell shone his light across the landscape, offering a glimpse at their surroundings. It looked to be some type of water filtration system, but it looked old and run down. Utility boxes were everywhere. Conduit snaked across the wall like a European subway map. This was the area of the base few got to see — and for good reasons. It was treacherous and easy to get lost. The leftover residue of toxic filtration chemicals still lingered through the air.
Another dark hallway drew Hanna’s attention. It seemed to lead out toward another cavernous space. She stopped and shone her light down. The space was empty. But several doors lined the hallway walls. What are those rooms about? Perhaps another way out? She slowly stepped back and realized she needed to catch up to the men. They had kept moving and left her behind. She could still hear their footsteps. They were close but adding distance with each long step. She took one last curious glance back to the hallway before shuffling off to catch up with the men.
Between two metal tanks, Hanna passed through in a hurry. A tall, lanky being crossed before her. She slammed to a stop and shone her light into the space. It moved so fast that she couldn’t tell what it was. Please, God, tell me that was my shadow! Her hands shook. She looked back toward the direction she had come. A disoriented feeling swept over her. She felt she was walking in the wrong direction.
Then the sound arrived. It was like a whisper. A child’s voice calling out something familiar.
“Mamma.”
The word poked her attention. She angled back and did a double take. What the hell was that? It was a child’s voice. Hanna snapped toward the direction of the sound. It was echoed and faraway. Maybe it was in her head. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel threatening. Rather, a sense of warmth flooded over her. She slowly stepped forward with her light. Being alone wasn’t a factor anymore. The sound was calling her. It needed her. It was counting on her for help.
Hanna stepped out into the juncture between two rows of cylinders that went on for at least thirty yards. They created a hallway. The sound seemed to be coming from the end. Hanna tried to rationalize. She shouldn’t go down here. Too many blind spots. She thought about what Pierce had said earlier. The base was under attack of some sort, but by whom? Militants? Terrorists? The Russians? It sounded ridiculous. No militant would hide down here. I heard a child, goddamn it.
Hanna stepped into the darkness anxiously. Her flashlight led the way. She canvassed the light around the landscape, making even the most normal inanimate object seem like a threat. She had crossed through the gully of two large metal boxes. A slender beam of aluminum conduit ran along the edge of the concourse. Hanna stopped and looked back. It felt as though someone was watching her from behind. She pivoted back and shone her light. Nothing was there. She figured it was probably just her imagination. She angled back. “Hello?”
Her voice echoed gently. No response came. She continued slowly and cautiously. She had traveled a few yards into the cavernous area, and the dusty, unknown darkness engulfed her. If she was going to be attacked, it would have happened by now. She didn’t budge from her mission. A movement flickered near the floor at the end of the row of cylinders. Something slid across the floor. It sounded like sandpaper. She called out again. “Hello. Who is that down there?”
The haunting silence returned. Hanna’s determination was feeling more like regret. She took in a heavy swallow and continued a few more steps before reaching what appeared to be a chain link gate that was blocking entrance to another area. She lifted her flashlight. The lockup was roughly three hundred square feet. The light of Hanna’s flashlight created a spider-webbed shadow as it cut through the chain link and into the space. The slightest movement of her wrist gave the illusion of something moving.
Maybe I’m losing it, she considered. The place is empty, and there’s no kid. Her imagination must have taken control. She had to catch up to Dimitri and Russell. Hopefully they hadn’t already left her down there. She shook her head with a sense of self-defeat.
Hanna moved away from the fence, and something crashed to the floor, startling her out of her skin. It sounded intentional. She spun back and clasped her chest. Was someone fucking with her? She twisted back and shone her light through the fence and into the lockup. She aimed the light beam at the floor. Then she moved it up a column and across the wall. Nothing was out of sorts. She focused her eyes.
She moved the light across a pile of boxes that seemed to have been the source of the sound. Dossier files spewed out from the top of the box, which had toppled over two others and landed on its side. That doesn’t just happen. She moved the light back for a second look.
The edge of her light beam caught another twitch of movement. With the flick of her wrist, she spotlighted the source of the commotion. Standing before her, on the other side of the fence and behind the boxes, lurked a dark-complexioned creature. She was not alone. It was hunched over at the waist, and it slowly stood upright as it looked toward the light. Its black eyes reflected back toward her like those of a cat. The creature was humanlike with its primate build and facial construction, but it was clearly not a human being. Perhaps it had been following her all along. Perhaps it wasn’t friendly.
Hanna stumbled backward down the hallway of cylinders, not taking her eyes off the creature lurking on the other side of the fence. It wasn’t pursuing her. It continued its awkward stare as she departed the location. Her breathing intensified. Her legs became wobbly. She spun around and bolted. Her legs could hardly carry her. The clamor of her running footsteps reverberated through the facility in every direction.
The long hallway Hanna had seen moments prior was her exit. She dashed down the corridor that poured out into another cavernous pump room that held a series of other hallways. The possibilities were endless, but at least it looked familiar. Which way did those bastards go? She looked around as she fluttered through the space, spinning around and agonizing over a decision.
One hallway had a light at the end. It seemed like a good incentive. She dashed across the pump room, leaping over a series of two-inch pipes, and she dashed into the long hallway. Her movement picked up into an all-out run. The lining of her expensive brand-name flats tore from the sole. The bottoms of her feet were being cut up with each impact, but she didn’t care. Her tolerance for discomfort had seemed to increase over the last few hours.
Hanna slid around a corner lined with more cinder blocks. Another doorway was a few yards away. Through a narrow section of shelves, Hanna jettisoned herself through the threshold and hit something solid. It wasn’t a wall or a pipe. It was Russell. His flashlight popped up to his chin, making her arrival even more startling. Hanna gasped and stepped back. She was happy to see him nonetheless.
She pushed past Russell with a shove and moved up behind Dimitri, who was on all fours near the elevator that the group had investigated earlier.
Dimitri had been at it for a while, and his frustration was starting to show. He desperately tried to pry the flat end of his screwdriver between the surface plate of the control panel and the cinder-block wall. However, there was little chance of him prying the panel from its mounting plate with a screwdriver. He needed something to shove the screwdriver deeper underneath the panel’s lip. He needed a hammer or something.
It had been fifteen long minutes since the others had left the laboratory. Gail remained quiet on the other side of the room. She leaned up against the counter island and sighed with agitation. She was burning up. Her face was dripping. Her hair was weighed down with sweat. How much longer? She periodically glanced at the window that looked out into the dark facility.
Pierce was at the doorway leading out into the hallway. He was casual. Emotionless. He leaned against the door seal with a smarmy grin. His attention was locked on the young lieutenant as she removed her top ABU jacket and tossed it to the floor. Her beige undershirt was soaked with sweat. Pierce looked at the jacket piled on the floor and smiled. “Haven’t had to wear ABUs in a while.”
Gail was unmoved. The comment was a sarcastic point about his casual wardrobe requirements. Security police in Area 51 were not required to wear typical military uniforms. In fact, it was encouraged otherwise. Ambiguity was paramount here.
“Where did you say you worked before this?” Pierce asked.
“I didn’t,” replied Gail sharply.
Pierce shrugged and looked off. He wasn’t getting any small talk from her. He was used to officers’ attitudes. Women were the worst. They all had things to prove and especially hated enlisted men.
Gail stood in silence for a moment, contemplating her rudeness. She felt like hell and didn’t want to engage in any conversation with a stranger, but the silence felt even more awkward. Pierce continued his long stare toward her. His eyes beamed through his smudged eyeglasses. She didn’t have to look in his direction to know he was just standing there and watching her like a creep. She sensed it. She quickly reached up to her matted hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.
“Special projects,” she replied.
Her sudden engagement took Pierce aback. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying to come up with a follow-up to keep the conversation going. It was like trying to stoke a new fire.
Gail felt as though her body was inside an oven. Sweat rolled down her pant legs into her boots. Her chest felt as if it was on fire. Her head throbbed with a migraine. Her eyes were becoming less tolerant to light. The bright fluorescent overhead lights made her sensitivity worse. She angled down to the floor and slowly reached toward the back of her neck. It was achy and stiff — the feeling one would have when starting to get the flu.
She moved her body away from Pierce, almost to conceal her suffering. But it was too late. He took notice and observed her with a discerning eye as she slowly pivoted toward a small handwashing station on the far side of the laboratory. Her breathing was inconsistent. Long-winded gasps coupled with short wheezing breaths to make her movements even more dramatic with each step.
Gail was on borrowed time, and Pierce knew it. Her actions were highly curious. Perhaps he had seen this type of thing before. It reminded him of something. Her disposition was familiar and unsettling.
Gail rested her palms on the sink counter to support herself. She shifted the weight of her body to her elbows. She slumped her head down toward the sink as though she was waiting to vomit. A bead of sweat plopped down onto the black counter below her chin. The sweat looked odd. It was whiter and thicker than sweat. Gail tried to focus on keeping herself upright. She was worried about showcasing weakness in front of Pierce more than anything else. Embarrassment was something she didn’t do well.
She reached around the side of her neck and pulled her hair back. Her neck was getting itchy, and her hair was adding to the irritation.
Pierce took notice of the lieutenant’s exposed neck right away. He slowly looked over with peculiar fascination. A long purple vein snaked across the base of the woman’s hairline down to her shoulder blade. Other small veins split out from the main one like tree branches and led to discolored black-purple blots. It looked like something out of a medical journal — ghastly and freakish. This didn’t look normal by any standard.
Gail was clearly oblivious to what was running down her neck.
She didn’t feel anything in particular — just a throbbing sensation, like a neck ache. She massaged her neck to relieve the tension. Pierce’s eyes grew wider as he realized what he was looking at. It wasn’t a birthmark. It wasn’t a bruise or a surgical scar. It appeared to be a lump that pulsated slightly from under her skin.
Dimitri continued to work with what he had, and it wasn’t much — a pair of screwdrivers and determination. He had made little progress. The elevator call panel was bolted to the wall with a special screwhead. It was the kind no one ever had on hand — the hexagon-shaped type. To make it worse, it was a patch job. A recent repair. And whoever did it made sure the panel was locked in. He only had a flathead and a Phillips head screwdriver. Neither was effective at turning the machine-tightened screws from the plate. Then he had another thought. He could pry it off. He tossed the Phillips head to the concrete and set the edge of the flathead against the cinder block. He pushed and shoved the screwdriver forward, trying to catch the lip under the panel. It was pointless. The lip was also sealed with some type of silicon. That was probably to keep dust out. It was also effective at keeping him from driving the screwdriver anything more than a quarter inch under the lip.
Hanna and Russell stood impatiently behind him. Hanna watched on with helplessness, periodically scanning the long, ominous, dark hallway that seemed to expose them to whatever threat was out there. Her nerves were on fire. If we are going to be attacked, it is going to happen now. A clock ticked inside her mind, and each time Dimitri dropped his screwdriver to the floor, it felt like an alarm going off. It reverberated through the entire facility. Hanna knew something lurked out there. She had seen it. Maybe I should tell the others. She toiled over the thought, glancing down to Dimitri and then back to Russell. Maybe if they knew, he’d hurry the hell up.
Hanna sighed. She knew what they were up against more than she wanted to admit. It wasn’t a foreign invader. It wasn’t a terrorist group or even an inside job. Something much more frightening had taken the base. The possibility of an extraterrestrial foe was much more than she had bargained for. It sounded ridiculous. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them.
Hanna pivoted back to Dimitri. “Maybe we should get better tools and come back. We’re sitting ducks here,” she said.
“No, I am not leaving until I get this door open,” replied Dimitri.
Hanna stepped back with frustration. She felt nauseated. She would have to be patient, but she could hardly stay within her shoes. She was ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
Russell was faring no better. He was exhausted from the trek down there. His knees were starting to act up, perhaps triggered by his scuffle with Dimitri only an hour before. Standing was making it worse. He shifted his weight back and forth from one leg to the other to give himself some relief.
Despite the discomfort, he was a good sentry. He stood with full attention toward the other long hallway off to the side of the elevator. His flashlight kept a steady observation of the dark space. There wasn’t any movement, but something felt off. As Hanna had pointed out, they were in a bad spot. Too exposed. They needed to get that elevator door open, and they needed to do it fast.
The sound of a distant door slamming grabbed everyone’s attention. The noise was followed by an agonizing, animallike growl. It was a cross between a bear and a squealing dog. Breathy and drawn out. It carried through the dense facility, bouncing off the walls and pipes as if in an amphitheater. It was hard to pinpoint the direction, but it sounded nearby. More movement came from deep inside the hallway.
Hanna stepped forward and shone her light down the corridor. Russell remained planted, keeping his attention on his hallway. Hanna’s hand trembled. She stepped forward a few more paces and tried to cast her light deeper into the space. She could not see or make out anything. The flashlight seemed to fade only a few yards in front of them. “We need to hurry up,” she said from the side of her mouth, and then she narrowed her eyes with realization.
They felt another impact. This time, it sounded as if someone had dropped a truck off a two-story balcony. The entire place shook. Hanna jumped back, nearly bumping shoulders with Russell. Russell looked down to Dimitri. Dimitri had stopped working to look down the hallway. Everyone was frozen.
Gail and Pierce reacted to the impact as though they were bracing for the roof to collapse. It was louder where they were. The lab vibrated for a few seconds before steadying. It felt like a small earthquake. Gail looked up at Pierce for a reaction. He looked back at her.
They both were thinking the same thing. Who is going to check it out?
Gail looked on with ambivalence. She didn’t want to go. She wanted him to do it.
However, unfortunately for the lieutenant, Pierce wasn’t known for his brash heroism. He was the last person in the world that would venture out for anyone, especially for people he didn’t know. But there was something else. It wasn’t just the sound of the impact in the facility that triggered concern. It was what they were up against. Pierce knew — and Gail knew, even though she didn’t want admit it.
It was still undecided who was going to check out the sound. By the look on Pierce’s face, he was staying. Gail shook her head with disbelief. Pierce’s cowardice astounded her. He had the knowledge and training to help people — that was his job. He was an obvious choice, but he remained a statue in front of the hallway door. Gail took in a sigh of regret and stepped toward the hallway.
Pierce stepped in front of the doorway, blocking her from the exit.
“Move,” she protested.
Pierce sighed. “There’s nothing you can do for them.”
“We have to warn them,” she continued.
Pierce did not budge. He placed his arm across the threshold like police caution tape over a crime scene. Gail flirted with the idea of punching him, but he seemed like the type who would enjoy that sort of attention from a woman.
“Get out of my way,” she replied sharply.
Pierce felt as if he had done his job — at least, enough to satisfy his own conscious. Perhaps it would be better if she did leave. Perhaps he would be better off on his own. Pierce dropped his arm, backed up, and let her through.
She stopped a few feet into the adjoining hallway. That was sure easy, she thought. He wasn’t going to fight her. He reached over and pushed the glass-windowed door open. “Out and to the left,” he muttered with a sarcastic tone.
What a prick. The man was the definition of a coward — less than a man. A fiend. She took in a deep breath and slowly started her exit into the dark facility.
The space outside the lab was a large open area filled with sealed wooden crates and rows of old office equipment dating back to the sixties. A line of office chairs looked as though it had been set up as a museum of different designs and furnishing throughout the years.
A large staircase sat a few yards from where Gail stood. That’s where we came up from. She quickly remembered how difficult it had been to get up the steps. Even though there were only three flights, it had felt like a million. At least I’m going down this time. She sighed with relief. Her legs were shaking. The space was still, lifeless, and intimidating. She glanced back one last time at Pierce as he stood comfortably in the threshold of the doorway. He used his shoulder to prop the door open as he watched her drift farther away from his eyesight.
As Gail inched toward the staircase, Pierce could only make out her silhouette against a large utility light that hung down about a foot from the high ceiling. The brightness of the light penetrated her like a backlight from the heavens. She was lost in it. He looked down to his hand resting on the door handle. He looked back up. What if? The consideration of the moment was plastered across his face. Gail was several yards away. She obviously wasn’t changing her mind.
Pierce had seen the kind of thing he had noticed on Gail’s neck. He remembered a few years back when a scientist had been quarantined for being exposed to a biological nerve agent — at least, that was what they had been told. Pierce had been responsible for protecting a team of doctors who were sent to process the scientist. He had seen the man, whose name he never knew, through a plastic sheet of translucent vinyl. He remembered seeing the man’s neck and bare back as the doctors examined him from afar. He wasn’t supposed to look, but he couldn’t help himself. The situation had been enough to make him worry about his safety every day since.
The lieutenant stopped a few feet from the dark staircase. She looked around. Was there anything she could use as a weapon? The woman flashed a discerning scowl back toward Pierce. She could have tried pulling rank to make him go, but there was very little to suggest he would have followed the order. She was ultimately powerless. Dimitri had the gun, and things on base were not in the usual order. Gail pivoted back toward the staircase and nudged a few steps forward.
Pierce struggled over his next move. Just keep walking, he thought impatiently. The second she hits those stairs, this door is closing.
Gail stopped again. She perused her surroundings and took in a shaky deep breath. Across the space, a hideous animallike bellow raced toward Gail from the darkness. She froze. This is crazy. Gail stepped back in a hurry.
Pierce had also heard the sound. He looked across the facility toward Gail. She slowly started to back up toward him. Pierce stepped back through the threshold into the hallway. She’s a liability. Fuck it! He immediately snapped into gear and slammed the door shut.
The impact of the slam from across the room nearly shook Gail out of her boots. It was the sound she was afraid of. She spun on a dime and scuttled back across the space toward the bright room. Her energy disintegrated with each step. The last few yards were the most difficult. The excitement had taken its toll on her. She arrived and shook the door handle. It was locked. It took Gail a moment to realize what was happening. Pierce had locked her out and wasn’t going to let her back inside.
He stared back at her through the glass. His face was stoic. Emotionless. The face of a cold bastard. He had planned it all along.
“What are you doing? Open up,” she pleaded.
Pierce looked off at the other room and stepped away. Gail shook the door handle again while banging on the glass with her other hand. “Open the door!” she shouted.
Pierce vanished from the hallway and into the laboratory. Gail pounded on the glass for a second time. It was thick. I could break it, she thought. What’s the point? In there. Out here. It’s all the same. The energy it took to protest had carved out her last bit of strength. She stepped back from the door with surrender. She leaned up against a metal utility box that was mounted on the wall a foot from the door and slid down to her ass. She stared off and contemplated her options. There were few. She could either take the risk of looking for the others or hope help was on the way.
She knew no one was coming to get them. And if they did, it could be days. The agony of sitting idly could be worse than death itself. I have to find the others or die trying. She slowly muscled the energy to stand up again.
Dimitri gave one last attempt at the panel. He wedged the screwdriver under the lip. The head started to bend. It was no match against four long bolts. The panel had obviously been designed to thwart tampering. The digs must be a special place to make a panel this goddamned stubborn. The pressure caused the screwdriver to jackknife outward. It slipped from Dimitri’s hands and crashed to the floor.
Again? Hanna shook her head. She was ready to crack under the anxiety.
“We need to get out of here right now. Someone is coming,” she said desperately.
Dimitri looked back at the panel. Giving up was painful, but he had been beat.
Russell stepped up behind Hanna. He steadied his light beam, focusing on an open doorway at the end of the hallway. “Fuck it. Let’s regroup and think of another option,” said Russell with a sigh.
Hanna moved away from the men and started to back toward the doorway they had traveled through a few minutes earlier. Russell followed.
Dimitri caught their departure from his peripheral vision. He snatched the screwdriver from the floor and hustled to catch up.
The trio raced back through the dark space toward another long hallway. It seemed to get longer as they moved through the thick black air. Two more interconnected spaces drew into view. Hanna motioned forward. She recognized the area. It was where she had almost gotten lost. They quickly dashed across the concrete room, zigzagging through a maze of workbenches and tool cabinets. Outside of the crap these caves contained, the facility was nearly indistinguishable — concrete, dark, and large. The only points of spatial orientation were the hallways. Some were well lit; others were completely dark.
Hanna, Russell, and Dimitri spun a corner and found themselves dashing across another pump room. The stairwell that led to the upper office levels slowly drew into view through a layer of pipework. The sight was relieving to Hanna. Despite the trek, they managed to find the way they had come in.
Russell stopped abruptly. Hanna rammed into his back like a small car rear-ending a semi. She could feel her insides shift as the impact of girth and sweat smacked her in the face. Dimitri skidded to a halt, nearly falling to his ass.
Hanna wanted to yell at Russell, but she knew better. Their footsteps were already alarming enough.
Russell’s unwavering attention was locked on something. He shone his flashlight forward, scanning around the darkness like a lighthouse during a storm.
Hanna tracked Russell’s gaze along with him. What the hell is he looking at?
Dimitri looked around in a frenzy. “What are we doing?” said Dimitri in a gruff whisper.
Russell remained silent for a beat, and then he rolled out a long, heavy breath as he stepped forward.
“What are you doing?” sighed Hanna.
Russell kept walking. Hanna and Dimitri slowly followed behind. Russell’s long, winded breath was almost an arrow pointing toward something. Dimitri shoved past Hanna and moved up next to Russell. His eyes grew wide as he took notice of what the older man was fixed on. Hanna shone her light forward, joining Russell’s beam. They slowly revealed what appeared to be a large chamber spread out across a vast open area near the end of the hallway. Several metal drum-shaped containers occupied the dark space like some type of fish hatchery.
Russell slowly approached the area, taking in the magnitude of the strange equipment. What the hell are these things? There must have been fifty tanks or so. He slowly approached one of the units and looked down over the top. Inside, the tanks were filled like bathtubs with a dark liquid substance.
“What the hell is this?” he muttered.
Hanna quickly approached from behind Russell to get a better look for herself. There was something troubling about the setup. Sophisticated machines were hooked to the tanks, which appeared to be extracting the liquid through various pumps and tubes.
“What is inside there?” Hanna muttered from the side of her face.
She stepped up onto a small metal platform to give herself more leverage. She bent past Russell, who was still trying to figure out what he was looking at. Hanna shone her flashlight into the tank. This allowed a glimpse of what was under the surface. Her face slowly morphed to trepidation as the image of a human body revealed itself through the pool of murky liquid. The body was a young woman. She resembled SP Martinez. Her naked and still body floated in the liquid as if in a hibernated state.
Hanna and Russell stepped back in shock, and they quickly backed toward Dimitri. However, Dimitri’s attention was captivated elsewhere. Off in the distance, the clamor of an approaching hostile had him razor focused down the long corridor.
The commotion sounded like an animal. It was bearlike. More aggressive. It bawled out from a long distance. It was clearly agitated — wherever it was. All they knew was that it was closing in on them like a speeding car.
Dimitri grabbed Hanna’s arm and pulled her into another hallway. Russell was a few feet behind, and he was trying to keep up. His knees were threatening to snap from their sockets. He couldn’t help but think he should have taken better care of himself throughout the years. Perhaps it would have paid off someday — like when monsters were chasing him.
The trio ping-ponged through a narrow hallway corridor. Hanna was sandwiched between the men. She fought to keep her balance as the group wrestled through a double doorway. Russell glanced back at the hallway behind him. He drifted into Hanna’s lane, running her into the cinder-block wall. She ricocheted off his shoulder and plummeted to the floor. Her flashlight kicked out from underneath her body and rolled in front of her. She fell to her stomach and looked up. All she could see were Dimitri’s and Russell’s asses racing away in the opposite direction. She quickly jumped to her feet, scooping the flashlight from the floor and racing off. The lingering outlines of the men started to vanish into the darkness. Those fuckers! She gritted her teeth. She flashed a quick look back down the hallway behind her. She couldn’t see anything, but she felt something approaching from behind.
Dimitri raced up a short set of steps and into the large warehouse area Gail had crossed moments before. Russell was within an arm’s length of the Russian. The brightness of the room spilled out into the darkness, offering hope of escape.
Through the windows of the laboratory, Pierce noticed their arrival. He dashed toward the hallway outside the lab and faced off with the men as they arrived on the outside. Dimitri and Russell crashed into the door like football players making a tackle. They hadn’t expected it to be locked.
The door didn’t budge against the impact, and neither did Pierce. He stared back at them with an emotionless gaze.
Dimitri shook the handle again. He was shocked by the man’s audacity. “Open the door!” he shouted.
Pierce stood in silence.
This motherfucker! Outrage overtook Dimitri. “Open the fucking door!” he continued with a punch into the glass.
Pierce stepped back. This only inflamed their anger further. Russell used his shoulder as a battering ram and impacted the door again. “Open the goddamned door, Sergeant! Now!” he demanded.
Pierce remained planted where he stood.
Dimitri was out of options. He aimed the gun toward Pierce through the glass. The message was clear. Dimitri would sacrifice them all over Pierce’s insolence.
He wouldn’t, Pierce thought.
Dimitri’s face said otherwise. He lifted the gun to Pierce’s face. His eyes beamed with a murderous glare. It was enough to convince Pierce. He surrendered and slowly opened the door. Dimitri shoved the door forward, knocking Pierce back several feet. Russell barraged inward after Dimitri.
Dimitri entered the laboratory and popped the light off from the side of the wall. The room went dark as Hanna arrived just a few paces behind Russell. Dimitri grabbed Hanna and pulled her down against the tiled wall below the window. Russell slid to his ass next to them. Pierce took cover behind a column a foot away from Dimitri and Hanna. Everyone waited helplessly and silently.
Still reeling from Pierce’s audacity, Dimitri held his gun outward and ready. His adrenaline was pumping. Hanna curled up in the fetal position. She did everything she could to sit as flat against the wall as possible. Her eyes rolled upward. The window ledge was less than a foot from the top of her head.
Everyone’s angst could be detected in the repetition of heavy breathing.
Russell grabbed the fabric of his sweater over his chest. I’m too old for this shit, he kept repeating to himself.
It had been less than a minute. The unsettling sound of a distant clamor gave a clue about the predators’ arrival nearby. It was the sound of heavy footsteps trudging toward them like an army of dysfunctional soldiers. The steps were loud and clumsy. Whatever these things were, they were not too worried about being stealthy.
An island cabinet sat in front of Hanna. The cheap wooden laminate was peeling away from the floor where there had been water damage probably some years prior. A red light from outside sliced across the cabinet and created a pattern. The light source was an emergency light near the entrance of the laboratory. The glass helped create the pattern through distortion.
Something cut across the light source from outside the window, disrupting the pattern. It moved in front of the window and stopped directly above Hanna. She slowly angled her head upward. Above her was the face of the creature. It was similar to the one she had encountered earlier. This one was different, however. It was much more developed. It was less agonized and seemed much more in control. It was menacing and on the hunt. The extraterrestrial was taller and appeared more coherent. It had long almond-shaped eyes that were vertical across the creature’s face. Its upper torso was exposed through the glass. It was fit and looked strong. Its head was less elongated than the one they had seen previously.
The creature leaned toward the glass of the window, peering in and scanning the room. Dimitri lifted his weapon.
Pierce noticed Dimitri’s movements. He was more concerned with Dimitri’s irrational behavior than the creature itself.
Dimitri tracked the creature with the gun as it slowly trod off and staggered toward the door. Everyone braced. The creature moved away from the door. Dimitri looked back at Hanna. There was a moment of silent rejoicing. A moment of calmness.
The door leading into the laboratory hallway shook from the outside. Everyone’s attention snapped in helpless worry. Dimitri aimed his gun toward the doorway, getting ready for the creature’s arrival. The door shook again. This time more violently.
Hanna braced herself for an attack. She slid her back up against the wall and lifted her fists into the ready position. Be ready, she thought. They were trapped. There was no place to escape.
Russell sat up to give himself some leverage.
Pierce looked back to Dimitri, waving his aim away. He wanted to delay gunfire.
The door shook a few more times before falling silent again. Dimitri dropped his aim and propped his head against the tile. He was thankful he didn’t have to use the gun.
Hanna sighed with relief and looked at the others with a sense of solidarity. She had forgotten the abandonment earlier in the hallway. Perhaps she understood Russell’s and Dimitri’s moment of fear. Perhaps she would have done the same herself.
The mood seemed to be slowly uplifted with each lingering moment of silence. Dimitri was still on alert and wasn’t so fast to breathe with victory. He slowly lifted himself from the floor and peeked over the ledge of the window. He gave it a moment. Everything seemed to be quiet outside the laboratory.
Hanna slid up against the column that Pierce had been hiding below. Dimitri moved his gun back into the ready position and slowly stepped toward the threshold of the hallway. He looked. He could see very little from his perspective. He was listening more than he was watching. The setting appeared calm outside the door. He turned back to the others and sighed.
Pierce rubbed the sweat from his face. He knew what was coming next.
Russell glanced around the room. His face soured with realization. Wait, something is off. He looked to the others with a discerning scowl. “Where’s Gail?”
The others took notice. They were almost embarrassed they had not observed she was missing first.
Hanna sat up in hurry. “Where is she?” she demanded.
Pierce sat quietly. He was contemplating his words carefully. He had been practicing his response for at least fifteen minutes.
“Hey! You hear what I just asked you?” Russell said in a judgmental tone.
“I don’t know,” Pierce replied from the side of his mouth, hoping it would be enough to satisfy.
“What the hell do you mean you don’t know?” Russell replied as he slid across the floor toward Pierce.
Hanna moved out of the way, creating a direct path to Pierce. There was nothing she could do to keep heads cool this time, and she could hardly care.
“I tried. OK? She flipped out,” Pierce explained, and he stood to his feet.
Russell mounted up from the floor and got into Pierce’s face, backing him up into the column. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
Dimitri angled back to the conversation, still covering the threshold of the hallway.
“You had one fucking job, man,” he asserted.
“Look. She flipped out. I couldn’t control her. What was I supposed to do?” Pierce continued.
“Keep her safe,” Hanna interjected.
The room went silent. Pierce knew his alibi was bad. The others weren’t buying his bullshit.
“I’m telling you. She’s sick. There’s something wrong with her. It’s better that she’s out of here and away,” Pierce replied.
Russell stepped up closer. Hanna saw his fists curling up with rage. This is going to be bad.
“There’s nothing you or I can do for her. She’s a lost cause,” Pierce concluded with a nonchalant shrug.
The man’s words seemed to trigger something in Russell. Perhaps it was the deeper racial dismissive meaning behind it. For Russell, it seemed personal. It felt racial. It felt as if he was quick to dismiss a black woman’s life. Russell responded in a blur, grabbing Pierce by the throat and shoving his head back against the tiled column. Pierce squirmed and gasped. There was no escape.
“What did you say, motherfucker?”
Dimitri stepped in to break up the fight. It was creating an unwanted ruckus. Maybe under different circumstances, he would have let Russell do his thing.
“Her name is Gail, you piece of shit,” Russell shouted over the commotion.
“Yeah, and she knows what she’s up against. She knows more than any of you,” replied Pierce.
Something about Pierce’s arrogant reply pulled at Hanna’s gut. The man spoke as if he stood on higher ground, both intellectually and morally. It was everything she could do to keep from knocking him off his figurative high horse. She knew more than any of them. She had been concealing her true reason for being on the base. She was, in fact, an auditor, but her job was much more than any of them gave her credit for. She wasn’t the type of woman who needed to prove anything, especially to a self-absorbed enlisted first shirt who was lucky he had survived as long as he had.
Hanna slowly sat up, regretting the words as they slid from her lips. “That’s not exactly true.”
Her audacious words seemed to snap the men from their moment of aggression. Russell slowly let up on Pierce’s throat. Russell had broken the skin around the man’s Adam’s apple. Thick, red fingermarks painted a reminder of how close Pierce had been from being choked to death. Pierce covered his throat and backed away in a hurry.
Hanna slowly laid her head up against the wall. A sense of surrender and guilt raced through her veins. She had worked so desperately her entire career to get to a point where she was trusted with the highest of national security matters. Now, she felt obligated to divulge. She was throwing it all away. It was gone within a few breaths.
Hanna’s real reason for visiting Area 51 that morning was to put the final buttons on a report she had been tasked with over the last three years. The report was commissioned by the Armed Services Committee and signed off by the president. A few moral crusaders in Washington had grown wary of the air force’s black operations in Nevada. They had been given autonomy for almost seventy years, and with the ushering in of a new administration of thinkers, the time had come to close Groom Lake once and for all. Hanna’s report would be the decisive blow. However, on this particular day, she never reached her secure computer that was set up for her in one of the administrative buildings. It was the fifteenth time she had visited, and she was looking forward to today being her last trip.
“We call them Reptilians. They’re one of five groups. We’ve had them since the fifties.”
Russell looked on with a perplexed glare. Everyone knew the stories. It was the subject of rumor and urban legend. Despite what they had all just witnessed, Hanna’s claim still felt unreal, false, and hard to swallow.
“We needed their technology during the Cold War. Eisenhower made the deal. He lived to regret it,” Hanna explained.
“What kind of deal?” Dimitri asked.
“Human studies,” she said, looking down to her lap with a sense of shame.
Pierce looked off. He knew the story. In exchange for military technological advances, the Reptilians were given a certain number of human subjects each year to experiment on and dispose of. Over one hundred thousand people a year went missing without a trace, and a good portion of that statistic belonged to the program nicknamed Hawthorn. Subjects included men, women, children, infants, and people of all social and economic backgrounds. Popular fiction had dramatized this with UFOs beaming unsuspecting victims from their beds and cars on rural roads, but the reality was less glamorous and far more frightening. Government stooges often kidnapped abductees and sent them to various bases across the western United States. Some went to a remote base in New Mexico, and the others went to Nevada. The Nevadans were most fortunate. What happened to the victims after the ordeal in New Mexico typically meant mutilation and experimentation.
“What do they want from us?” asked Russell, still coming to terms with what he had just heard.
Hanna took a moment to find the logical response. There was none. The reality was almost too horrible to speak. “To evolve their species.”
“But they’re getting more hostile. More aggressive. They are starting to breach our side of the base more frequently,” Pierce added.
Russell stepped back and slid down to the floor. He was finally out of words. There was nothing he could say about anything now.
Hanna’s and Pierce’s words lingered for a few minutes as the group wrestled with their entire knowledge of the world around them collapsing to the floor. Their understanding of religion was gone. National pride, gone. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Anything was possible now, and that included their deaths today.
“I can’t just sit here,” Russell said as he climbed up from the floor.
Dimitri was quick to read Russell’s movement as he started to stand back up. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I can’t do her like that,” Russell explained. “That girl is out there by herself with those goddamned things.” Russell motioned to Pierce. “Thanks to this asshole.”
Pierce shrugged off the comment and looked away. It was the least he could do to showcase his disdain for the situation. He still had the image of Gail’s panicked face pleading to him through the glass. He felt a level of indifference, but he knew it had been the right thing to do. He wasn’t certain about what he had noticed on the back of Gail’s neck, but he knew enough not to second-guess his instincts.
He glanced up as Russell brushed past him toward the threshold to the hallway. Dimitri was quick to cut Russell off. Hanna also jumped to her feet. She raced to the door and blocked his pathway.
“What are you doing?” Hanna asked. She knew the obvious, but she wanted him to think about his actions.
“You can hardly walk,” Dimitri said as he locked shoulders with Hanna.
Russell knew they were right, but he felt an obligation to go after Gail himself. He was responsible for all of them as security captain, and a lingering sense of duty still called. He lifted his contemplating head and looked back up to Dimitri. “Look, man. Just get that elevator open. I’ll be all right,” he replied.
“I’ll go with you,” Hanna said.
Russell was quick to shake his head. He knew what she was going to say. “No. He’s gonna need as much help as he can get here,” Russell replied, indicating his distrust of Pierce.
Dimitri agreed. If they were going to stand a chance getting to the digs, he would need a second attempt. He looked down to the Browning. He’d had the safety off for a few minutes. He glanced back to Russell with reluctance. He didn’t want to give up the gun, but Russell needed it more for his mission. He popped the safety in with his thumb and swung the handle outward, offering it to Russell. “It’s on safety.”
Russell glanced down as he accepted the weapon with solidarity. It took a lot for the expat to offer up his only line of defense. It was a true mark of his unselfishness. Russell admired that. He had been wrong about the Russian. The Russian was the better man.
“Thank you,” Russell said with an apologetic frown.
Dimitri wasn’t good with emotional stuff. He lassoed Russell’s shoulder and started to escort him toward the hallway exit in a hurry.
“Come on. Move your ass,” he replied, pushing Russell out toward the door.
Dimitri quickly opened the door. Russell stepped out cautiously, scanning the site. He angled his gun up like a pro. His military past had taught him a few things about weapons — it was better to be the person holding it.
The outside of the laboratory hallway was a character within itself. The lonely, dense facility stared back at Russell as he looked around and tried to figure out which way to go. A staircase was in front of him. It was the one they had trudged through a few times now, and it was the same set they had raced up less than ten minutes prior. It was an obvious choice only because it was the only apparent way back down to the lower parts of the facility.
Although this portion of the facility was underground, it still had various stories. The tunnels, or “digs,” as they were known, were another ten stories from where Russell stood. He still felt as though he was missing something. Where could she have slipped away to? She’s got to be close. He wanted to shout out for her, but he knew better. His only plan was to be stealthy and keep his back covered and away from any open space. He had watched enough of those cop procedurals on television.
Russell lifted his gun and slowly paced toward the steps as his flashlight sprayed down onto the banister of the stairwell. His hand was trembling. His breathing was a calm wheeze. The level where he stood was about four stories up. He was at the top level. The only way was down — down into the abyss of the facility once again. He had fought so desperately to make it up these steps a short time ago. Each step was reluctant. Each step was him accepting his fate. Each step was noisy and alarming.
By the time Russell reached the lower level, he was a little worn out. His final descending step to the last platform was heavy and painful. The struggle with Dimitri and running that day had started to take its toll. His movements were slow and arduous. Another narrow doorway drew into focus. It was the area that led into the main hallway system. It was the worst place to be ambushed.
Russell lifted his gun and angled back toward the wall. He slid his back up against the surface and slowly maneuvered his body toward the door seal. The coast seemed clear. The hallway was empty. Russell looked left and then right, canvassing the location with his fading flashlight, which was slowly tapering out to a muddled and dim yellow glow. He moved his heavy body into the hallway and stood for a moment, taking in the silence. His ears were tuned to the deadness of stillness.
Then a noise arrived. It was perfect timing — almost as if it was a planned trap. A distinct sound of a person whispering the soft tune of a lullaby. It sounded like a mother humming to a restless infant. It was inviting and distinctively human. It’s Gail, he thought. He snapped into action and moved toward the noise with relief. Each step helped bring the noise closer. Each step toward the end of the long corridor made the humming more distinct. It was clearly a female’s voice. It was starting to sound more like Gail. The voice seemed to drift out into the hallway from another doorway. Russell was getting hotter.
Russell’s large body silhouetted the threshold of the open door into the new room. The space was different from the others. It was a mechanical room. There were generators, power supply boxes, and conduit everywhere. It had been, at one point, the heart of the facility. The brains. The machinery was frozen in time, engulfed in the darkness, and rusted into motionlessness. Russell’s struggling flashlight limped across the landscape. He could make out a set of legs lying on the ground in front of him about sixty yards or so. He lifted his gun and whispered, “Gail?”
The humming stopped immediately. Russell stepped forward, keeping his light angled down in the direction of the legs.
“Gail? Is that you?”
There was no reply.
“Come on. We need to get out of here.”
Russell moved closer to the person. It was clear it was the lieutenant. Her camouflage cargo pants and boots gave it away. Her back rested against a wall near the base of another staircase. Her head was drawn down toward the floor. Her hair flopped over the side of her face like a wet mop.
Russell lowered his gun and stuck it into his pants under his belt. It would make do as a temporary holster. Hopefully it doesn’t go off, he thought as he wrestled it away from his vital areas.
“Jesus Christ, Gail. What the hell are you doing?”
Russell moved in quickly, separating the distance with four large, heavy steps. He reached down toward Gail’s shoulder. He was towering over her with impatience.
“Come on. I’m going to get you out of here. Let’s go,” he urged, keeping a watchful eye over his shoulder.
Gail’s head began to move. Her hair slid from her face as she slowly angled up toward the light of the flashlight.
Russell’s face drained with a realization. Something was wrong with her. Her face was ravaged with open wounds. Pus and blood erupted from large bumps from her cheekbones to her eye sockets. She resembled a person burned with radiation. A portion of her forehead had peeled back. Her face was moist with a mixture of sweat and blood. Her eyes fluttered open. They were glossed over with a gray, cloudy haze. She stared back at Russell with dread. Russell stepped back in a hurry. The sight panicked him.
Gail’s blistered lips slowly opened, tearing a layer of dry skin from the crack of her mouth. “Run,” she pleaded.
Russell tripped backward, almost falling over his own feet. It was as if he had been shoved. Emotion ripped through him like a freight train. His legs were jolted and shaken to the bone. He managed to find the edge of a concrete pillar, which he used to brace his heavy body. It took him a moment. His eyes were locked on Gail’s hemorrhaging face peering back at him from the corner. Her head fell back to her lap, and she returned to her lullaby, slowly descending into surrender.
There were other sounds Russell had to address. The sounds of movement were all around. The dark shadows seemed to come alive. He retrieved his gun from his waistband and aimed it wildly across the landscape. Where are you, you sons of bitches? He shuffled back toward the exit and hustled the best he could toward the hallway he had just arrived from.
The hallway was empty in the direction Russell was heading. He staggered into the long corridor and dashed toward two large doors toward the end. He had run so fast that he forgot to look back. The arrival of a moaning and a growling triggered him to stop. The sound was distinct — like a pack of lion cubs feeding on a dying zebra. It was the sort of animal sound that triggered thoughts of misery and aggression all in one breath.
Russell reacted to the noises and slammed on the brakes. He stopped in midstep, keeping his back to the sound. His retreat was pointless. Many of them were standing forty or so yards away, preparing for a chase. I’ll just lead them back to the others, he rationalized. That’s if I can outrun them. But he knew better. That goddamned knee, he thought as he looked below his waist. His escape was improbable.
He clenched the Browning with his sweaty palm. His thumb slid around to the opposite side of the barrel and pushed the safety back. The weapon was ready to fire. Russell stared at the ceiling.
He pivoted back. At the end of the hallway was a gang of gnarly creatures looming in the shadows. They stared back at him through the dank darkness with their long blackened eyes. They were equally fixated with anticipation and intrigue. Russell stared them down with a cold, determined scowl. Let’s see if they’re bulletproof. He lifted his weapon and fired three rounds. Two of the creatures slumped over, and the others charged toward him like a pack of hyenas. Their limbs flailed around wildly as they toppled over one another to get to Russell. He fired again and charged toward them with the dedication of a Kamikaze.
Hanna reacted to the faint, distant sound of gunfire. The noise trickled up to the room as little more than a small series of muffled pops. It was enough to shake Hanna from a deep, analyzing daze. She looked up at Pierce, who had also heard it.
“Was that a gunshot?” she asked quietly with a perplexed expression.
Pierce looked off with a defeated head nod.
She jumped up and dashed toward the exit. Pierce was quick to his feet and cut her off, blocking her from escape.
“Move,” Hanna demanded.
“You go out there, you’re as good as dead,” Pierce replied with confidence.
“I said move.”
Dimitri spoke from the corner. “He’s right.”
Dimitri’s interjection shocked Hanna. She glared back toward him with an audacious scowl. “I can take care of myself.”
Dimitri looked away dismissively.
Pierce smirked and returned his focus on the woman. It would take little effort for him to hold Hanna back. She was mainly skin and bones — more of a ballerina than a wrestler.
Hanna tried to go around the stocky soldier, but it was pointless. He grabbed her forcefully and tipped her back toward the floor. She was weak and powerless in his mind, and asserting his will was not only easy but somewhat arousing.
Dimitri reacted swiftly. Something about the way Pierce smugly and easily contained her was troubling. He seemed to be enjoying overpowering Hanna. Perhaps he had misread Dimitri’s agreement about leaving the room as a hall pass to rough the woman up. However, his assumption would be grossly misread. Pierce wasn’t one of them, and he had no right to touch anyone, especially one of the females.
The Russian leaped forward, grabbed Pierce by the shoulder, and swung him around. Despite being slightly smaller in height than the first shirt, Dimitri had the physical advantage and an attitude to fear. He shoved Pierce across the room.
As she was released, Hanna fell back toward the window. The men locked eyes. The message was clear from Dimitri to Pierce. You try to touch her again, I’ll fuck you up. Pierce put his hands up in surrender and backed away toward the counter Dimitri had just forfeited a moment before.
Hanna was watching Pierce like a hawk when she lowered her eyes to the back of Dimitri’s neck. He was still squared off with Pierce, and his back was to her. It wasn’t difficult to miss the long vertical surgical incision that ran down his neck to his shoulder blades. Similar to the one Gail had on her neck, this wound was starting to bleed and gape open. The skin had started to separate, leaving an eighth-inch gap through the incision. This revealed a thick, oozy substance that was dark and slowly seeping.
“You’re bleeding,” she said reluctantly.
Dimitri ended his long death stare with Pierce and looked to Hanna. “Where?”
“Your neck,” she replied.
He reached around the top of his hairline and retrieved a few fingers of thick blood. His expression morphed from surprise to confusion. He checked other parts of his body for injury.
Pierce squinted his eyes with suspicion. It was another troubling discovery. It was just like the one he had witnessed on the lieutenant earlier. There must be an outbreak or something, he thought. Whatever it is, I’ve got to get the hell out of here. He glanced back to the countertop and contemplated his next move. Spread across the surface was the set of scattered tools Dimitri had recently used on the elevator. Among them were two screwdrivers, one flathead and one Phillips head. There were plenty of weapons if he wanted. Would that be the right move? Or should I just try to leave? Leaving sounded like a bad choice, but staying in the room with the Russian in that condition was even more illogical.
The investigation of his wound distracted Dimitri. It was an opportunity to strike if Pierce wanted. It was a clear shot. A clean kill. He’d go quickly with a hit to the throat. Pierce was trained to use just about any type of inanimate object as a weapon. It was part of the deal here. Surrendering the room was not an option. However, the bigger question was what to do with the woman after the Russian went down.
Dimitri’s perplexed moment was only compounded by the fact he felt no pain on his neck or the sensation of blood. Blood was typically hard to detect as it first left the body. It was exactly the same temperature as the body’s core. Despite the absence of the pain from his wound, Dimitri’s situation was getting harder to ignore. With each passing breath, gravity seemed to wear down the Russian’s unwieldy body. He was unbalanced and really needed to sit down for his own good. His legs started to tremble. He was starting to suffer from some type of head pain. He grabbed a few fingers of pinched skin around the side of his temple and started to massage it through the pain of a migraine.
“It’s nothing. Just a cut,” he said dismissively.
His words were clearly designed to convince himself rather than the others. He slowly rested his left hand down on a countertop and stared toward the floor, massaging his head with his right hand.
“Dizzy. I just need a minute,” he declared.
Hanna’s attention started to drift back toward the hallway exit when she caught a twitch of movement from the corner of her eye. In a blur, Pierce swiped the flathead screwdriver from the countertop and moved into the attack toward Dimitri.
“Dimitri!” she shouted with a full set of lungs.
Pierce lunged forward, and his arm thrust downward in a stab.
Dimitri’s reaction was quick and lucky. He spun around and caught the impact of the screwdriver with his forearm. The raw adrenaline helped numb the burning sensation of the shredded muscle tissue as it ripped from the bone with the twist of the screwdriver. He grabbed the back of Pierce’s neck with his other hand, sending them into a pivot spin back toward the doorway. The men slammed into the wall with the combined force of 452 pounds. Dimitri absorbed all of it. He was crushed underneath Pierce. Pierce had him pinned to the tile, locking his injured arm down with the protruding screwdriver. With his free right hand, he punched firmly into the Russian’s lower abdomen. It was all Dimitri could do to keep his upright stance and kung fu grip on Pierce’s sweaty neck.
Pierce ripped the screwdriver from Dimitri’s forearm and lifted his blade for a second strike toward the Russian’s face. Dimitri managed to block the second stab with his injured arm. He quickly grabbed Pierce’s wrist and fought back the screwdriver from his eye socket. The men went back and forth for several seconds, but it felt like hours. Each thrust was getting the point of the screwdriver closer to Dimitri’s face.
The security of the tiled wall offered Dimitri a benefit. Pierce was pushing him toward the wall. His back was arched, and his legs were starting to slide away from his center. Dimitri glanced down and noticed the man’s boots slowly skidding out from under him. He quickly kicked the man’s boots back, causing Pierce to slide downward toward the aged linoleum and onto his stomach. The men struggled for a few seconds as gravity took over. Dimitri twisted his body, sending them both crashing to the floor. Pierce rolled over the top of Dimitri and punched down into his ribs.
Hanna raced in to aid Dimitri in the struggle, but her assistance was futile. Pierce easily shoved her away with his arm, sending her into a roll across the floor in a blur. Dimitri struggled under Pierce’s weight for about forty seconds. He knew what he had to work with, and he had to do it quickly. Gravity was on Pierce’s side. He was starting to angle the tip of the screwdriver down toward his throat. He needed to strike hard, or he would be a dead man. Dimitri was a good wrestler and needed to think outside of the mat for this one. Use what you’ve got, even if it hurts.
With his free hand, he grabbed Pierce’s vest collar and pulled the man’s head toward his. Dimitri swung his head out from the side, sending a minor headbutt to the side of Pierce’s upper nose. Pierce jolted back as blood started to drip instantaneously from his nostrils. Dimitri lifted his shoulders off the floor and balanced on the bottom side of his elbows. He tilted his head back and released a second headbutt into Pierce’s face. The man loosened his grip. It was all Dimitri needed. He quickly lassoed Pierce’s neck with his arm and rolled him over in the opposite direction. He now had the advantage, locking Pierce to the floor in a wrestling-style hold.
With the screwdriver still planted in his fist, Pierce swung the point toward Dimitri’s temple. Dimitri grabbed hold of the man’s fist. The blade of the screwdriver angled down toward the floor and Pierce’s face. A downward thrust. Dimitri lifted up, placing his entire weight on top of the handle.
Hanna stumbled back, not sure what she was seeing. Her body was in shock, and she was still trying to recover from being shoved across the floor. She watched helplessly as Dimitri continued shoving the screwdriver downward. “Dimitri, no! It’s not worth it,” Hanna cried out.
All Dimitri heard was the inside of his head steadily telling him to finish the bastard.
Pierce shoved back, letting out a series of shouts that sounded more like desperate pleas. The screwdriver angled lower toward the chest. Dimitri was driving for the heart, the soft spot between the rib cage and sternum. The angle of the drive put Pierce in an unwinnable position. His arms were going weak.
The end of the screwdriver penetrated through the fabric lining of Pierce’s flak vest. Dimitri twisted the screwdriver deep into the man’s chest cavity and through the top portion of his left lung. Pierce kicked his legs out wildly as Dimitri drove the screwdriver through to the other side of the lung’s lining, which began filling with blood.
Pierce’s body went into a frenzy, choking and seizing as the last bit of life left.
Hanna stepped back, moved across the room and past the body, and found a safe corner away from the carnage. Dimitri relinquished his grip as Pierce expired into stillness. Dimitri fell back, almost in shock at himself. He looked down at his bloody hands, slowly coming to terms that he had just taken another man’s life. It was self-defense, he thought.
Hanna slid down the bumpy tiled wall to the floor. Her legs were wobbly, and she couldn’t stand. Her breath was short with panic. She fought the urge to vomit. The adrenaline seemed to be dissipating, and the reality of the moment began to settle in. Dimitri looked back at the dead Pierce before him. He had never killed a man before. This was the second time he had seen someone die before his eyes. His brother had died just a few years prior. He had sat by his side as he took his last breaths in hospice. Dimitri wasn’t much of a religious person, but he felt a duality of spirituality. If there was a time to find God, now would have been his time. He sank back into the adjacent wall to Hanna. He reflected on his life and his mistakes.
Hanna’s breathing sounded loud across the small laboratory. She was still in utter shock over what had just happened. Dimitri seemed quiet. She wasn’t sure what to make of his silence. Is he going to kill me next?
“Why? Why would you do that?” she asked.
Dimitri said nothing. He was still trapped in his moment of realization.
“Why would you do something like that? You didn’t have to kill him,” she continued.
His absence from the reality of the moment seemed to anger her the most.
“Why, Dimitri?” she shouted out.
“Why what?” he burst out, silencing her. “I had no choice!”
Hanna hung on his reply, trying to see if it had any context in reality. He could have let him go. She agonized over this.
A somber silence took over the laboratory for several minutes as the heart rates started to settle back to a sensible pace. However, neither of them knew what to say. The ghost of the dead Pierce still lingered. There wasn’t a good way to move on from this moment.
Dimitri was the first to break the silence. He kept his head down. His words were in the present; his mind was years away. “My brother and I used to go to this lake near our farm when we were children. Been to that lake a thousand times. This one day during the winter, the lake had frozen solid. He wanted to cross it. I was too afraid,” Dimitri recalled.
Hanna watched as he relived the moment in his head. She struggled to find a comparison. She sat quietly and allowed Dimitri to get to his point.
“I remember the sound of the ice cracking underneath my brother’s feet. He slipped underneath the ice. I could hear him screaming, but I was so afraid. I just stood there. Did nothing. My father came racing out, dashed across the ice, and pulled my brother out. His lungs were filled with frozen water. He didn’t die that day, but I did. His health was never the same after that. He was sick his entire life, and it was my fault.”
“I know where I was this morning,” she replied. “I was driving my daughter, Emily, to her father’s house.”
Dimitri finally removed his eyes from the man he had just killed and looked over toward Hanna, who was sitting across the room from him. There was a moment of empathy on both sides.
“I was a horrible wife and mother. I was never around. I put my career first,” said Hanna. “I just wish I could hold my baby one more time. I don’t think I’ll have that chance now.”
Dimitri looked back toward the body. The screwdriver was still protruding from Pierce’s chest.
“I can get that elevator open. I can get you to the tunnels. There are breakaway shafts you can use to get outside of the mined parameter of the base. They go out about a kilometer under the desert floor and up a few stories. It will take you back to the north side of the base.”
Hanna knew exactly what Dimitri was talking about. Originally used as escape and evacuation tunnels in case the Russians attacked during the Cold War, the breakaway shafts were thought to be sealed up toward the end of Ronald Reagan’s presidency.
Dimitri leaned forward and pulled the screwdriver from Pierce’s chest. He glanced back to Hanna as the sound of ripping flesh dissipated.
“Grab whatever tools you can. We’re not coming back here.”
Hanna glanced upward to the wrench. It was still lying on the countertop above her head. It was heavy, but it could make a good weapon.