by Drew Brown
Professor Samson stood in the open door, waving them on. Behind him, the red lights did not shine. The laboratory was filled with its usual white ambience.
The scientist stepped aside to let Tony enter. Budd led Juliette and Becky in a moment later.
“Get over there, sugar plum,” he said, ushering Juliette to take Becky away from the door. He then leveled his shotgun at the open space, waiting for whoever would be next.
Jack and Annabel crashed into the room.
Budd peered out into the corridor; Father McGee was still twenty feet away and his pace had slowed to barely more than jog. His limbs were unsteady and his bearded face was covered with exhaustion.
“Come on, pops,” Budd yelled, but the elderly priest had no more energy to spend, and so he simply continued at the same slow pace.
Another flurry of gunfire came from further down the corridor, its source out of sight around the corner.
Father McGee stumbled through the doorway. There was foam on his beard and his breath wheezed from his mouth. He managed to walk a few paces into the room before collapsing to his knees.
Budd returned to the door, listening to the shouts of the men in the corridor. The gunfire stopped once again. His finger tightened around the trigger.
Tony shoved Budd out of the way and closed the door. He turned the key in the lock and withdrew it.
“Hey, we can’t just leave ’em out there.”
Tony tucked the key into his pants pocket. “That’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”
Budd looked out through the door’s small pane of glass. One of the blue-jacketed men appeared, sprinting for the door. His hands were empty.
The nearest beast was only a few feet behind.
The chasing pack was comprised of people Budd knew from the base. Some of them were dressed in outdoor gear, others in casual clothes; some were in their various uniforms, like the cafeteria and medical staff, but all of them wore the same feral expression upon their faces.
Their hands reached forward.
Budd watched the handle turn as the blue-jacketed man reached the door. He was only young, in his early twenties; his eyes were filled with terror while his plump face was screwed up in panic at the sudden knowledge that he’d been betrayed.
The lock held firm.
His name was Tom. He liked cheeseburgers and playing cricket.
He often asked about the Test match scores, not that I ever knew any…
The man started to scream but the fast-movers dragged him down.
Budd looked away. “You left him to die, you son of a bitch.”
Tony shook his head. “I did what was necessary. We couldn’t risk them getting in here.”
“Please,” Professor Samson said. He grabbed a handful of Budd’s sleeve and tried to pull him away from the door. “There isn’t much time. I need you to give me the code. We need to use the machine to save the world.”
Around the door, the frame and hinges started to creak as the weight of the beasts outside pressed against it. Two faces were pushed to the glass. Both of them were ravaged with pain, crushed by the growing pressure behind them. Budd doubted the fixings for the aluminium frame were up to much.
The door wouldn’t hold indefinitely.
“Okay, egghead, let’s do this,” he answered, letting himself be taken across the room to a door built into the side of the observation window.
Juliette followed close behind, and Tony waited for Jack and Annabel to make a move before he stooped over to help Father McGee back to his feet.
As soon as Professor Samson opened the door, which was thick glass with a metal outer edge, he stepped out onto a small balcony that topped a spiral staircase. The entire structure was made from steel, and the scientist hurried down the steps, taking them three at a time.
Budd followed, looking over the laboratory as he descended. The large room was filled with a humming that came from the massive generators, a sort of soft crackle that made him think of a camp fire.
The laboratory was a hive of activity, with the white-coated technicians rushing back and forth between the consoles, carrying clipboards and notepads. Many of them turned to look at Budd as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Professor Samson, however, did not pause at all. He dashed off across the gray-painted concrete floor with the back of his white coat trailing behind him, beckoning for Budd to follow him to the central cubic chamber.
Time was short.
Budd tried desperately to remember Deacon’s code.
58
Professor Samson reached the giant cube of reinforced glass and steel pillars, where he tapped several keys of a control pad. When he finished, a six-foot tall and three-foot wide section of the glass sunk into the ground with a whoosh of air. The scientist hurried inside the small airlock chamber.
Budd started to follow, still holding Juliette by the hand.
“Only you need to enter here, Mister Ashby,” Professor Samson said, casting his eyes over Juliette and Becky.
Jack and Annabel were close behind.
“They all stay with me, buddy. You got that?”
Professor Samson opened his mouth, but was silenced by a hollow thud on the observation gallery window. Out of sight, the door had given way. The beasts were now pushing against the glass, searching for a way down.
Tony jogged from the bottom of the spiral stairs, the barrel of his silver Colt King Cobra shining in the bright light of the laboratory. Budd looked beyond his friend and saw that Father McGee was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, fumbling to remove the lid from his flask.
“I’ve locked the door,” Tony said as he stepped into the chamber, closely followed by two white-coated lab workers who stood with their arms folded across clipboards, “but I’m not sure how long it’ll hold. The lab wasn’t designed for this kinda thing. Whatever you guys have planned, you’d better do it fast.”
Professor Samson hit a button that raised the door back out from the ground, sealing the airlock. The sound of a large fan kicking into life above them reverberated down the air ducts. Cold, clean air was sucked up through grills in the floor.
With a sudden mechanical grinding noise, the pane of glass leading into the main chamber sunk into the floor. Professor Samson hurried inside, skirting around the central platform and stopping in front of a computer screen and keyboard that projected out from one of the steel columns. Budd followed and leaned over the scientist’s shoulder, watching as his thin fingers manipulated the buttons. Eventually, the green and black screen showed empty spaces for five characters.
“Tell me the sequence,” Professor Samson said.
Budd swallowed hard. Behind him, he heard the door to the chamber shut.
“Mister Ashby, what is the code?”
“Ah, well, it’s…” Budd started, still looking around. He caught Juliette’s eye, offering her a smile that was tentatively returned. She had waited by the door, still holding Becky to her chest, the little girl’s legs wrapped around her waist.
Jack, Annabel, and Tony were also there, waiting, watching. The other two lab technicians had entered the chamber and both were standing next to computer terminals, ready to continue.
Outside, the remaining scientists were gathered around the glass walls. Father McGee was still sitting on the stairs, drinking from his flask.
“Hold on, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”
Although Budd didn’t hear it, in the corner of his eye he watched a crack spread across the observation gallery’s glass wall. A group of the creatures were using one of the wooden desks as a battering ram, attacking the glass in its center.
I realized then—although I guess I’d known it for some time—that the game was up. Those things were gonna get into the chamber and kill us.
There was nowhere left to hide.
Deacon had been right. As the space-virus took hold, the infected had grown more and more dangerous. They worked together to overcome obstacles. Hell, it was easy to s
ee why the future had been overrun with them.
The present hadn’t done any better.
But it was in my power to put things right.
All I needed to do was remember the code. That was all I had to do to save the world: remember the code, change the past and prevent it all from ever happening.
As all of my high-school teachers could’ve told you, pop-quizzes aren’t my speciality.
But we all get lucky once…
The observation gallery’s glass wall collapsed into the laboratory. Countless shards of glass tumbled like a waterfall, reflecting the white light in innumerable tiny flashes. Among the glass was a cascade of the creatures. Some of them fell, while others jumped down onto the concrete floor.
Many of the first to make the attempt crumpled as they hit the ground, buckling at the knees upon broken legs, ripping their bodies on the fragmented glass, but the second group landed on the first, lessening the impact. Hardly any time past before they’d come to terms with their landing, and they charged at the lab workers trapped outside the chamber.
Budd watched in horror as Father McGee rose to confront a small group of the beasts. The elderly priest made the sign of the Cross on his chest as they set upon him. He was bundled to the floor in an assault of teeth and hands.
The whole event, from the collapse of the glass wall to the fighting between the creatures and the technicians, was played out in utter silence; the central chamber was soundproofed.
All Budd could hear was the steady increase of his heartbeat.
“Delta, Gamma, Beta, Alpha, Omega!” he cried out, the words trapped within one gasping breath.
“You’re sure?” Professor Samson asked, his face wide with a smile. “We may have but one chance.”
“Then take it, brain box. I’m not getting any surer.”
The scientist keyed the combination into the control panel and stepped back. “We’re ready,” he said, prompting his two colleagues to begin work at their own terminals.
Budd ran to Juliette and kissed her on the cheek. He wrapped his arms around her and Becky. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out differently,” he whispered into Juliette’s ear.
“Oh, Monsieur Ashby, you do not need to be sorry. You did your best,” Juliette replied, stepping back and placing Becky down on the floor. The little girl stood at her side, holding her hand. Juliette’s wide, dark eyes stared straight into Budd’s, glistening with tears. “I love you,” she said quietly.
Ignoring the savagery outside the central chamber as the remaining lab workers fought with their hands and makeshift weapons—as well as the odd revolver—Budd kissed Juliette on the lips.
She tasted of the salty tears that streamed down her face.
A buzzing began around the raised platform as blue light streaked between three of the four columns, crackling as it jumped from place to place. Three small steps approached the single side that was free from the controlled lightning.
Professor Samson clapped his hands together, oblivious to the horror that surrounded their glass sanctuary. “Who will try it?” he asked, looking around at the group. “Mister Ashby, how about you? Your knowledge brought us this far, who better to go back and inform humanity of the impending disaster? There is a good chance they will kill you to stop the infection spreading, but perhaps they will not. You will certainly die here.”
“Can more than one of us go?”
“Only one at a time, I’m afraid. There may be enough power remaining for someone to make a second journey afterwards. I can’t say for sure.”
Budd looked at Juliette, who nodded down towards Becky. “There are three of us, Monsieur Ashby,” she whispered.
Budd turned back to Professor Samson. “I’m not leaving, pal,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone else can be your paperboy.”
“Then, Mister Pope, you must go,” Professor Samson decided. He gave Tony a clipboard full of hand-written notes. “This contains everything Mister Ashby has told us. Quickly now, we are ready.”
“Good luck, old friend,” Budd said, patting Tony on the back. “When you get back there, take me out for a drink, yeah?”
“You bet. I’ll see you ten years ago,” Tony replied, and then he turned to Juliette and smiled. “Keep him safe.”
“I will try,” Juliette answered. She reached up and ran her hand over Budd’s stubble-covered cheek. “I will really try.”
With the Colt King Cobra in one hand and the clipboard in the other, Tony walked up the three steps onto the platform. He stood in the middle and then nodded to Professor Samson. The scientist flicked a switch and the side that had been free of the flickering energy burst into life. With Tony surrounded, the intensity of the blue lightning increased, rising quickly, until the bright light forced Budd to shield his eyes.
Tony screamed.
Budd turned to look out through the glass walls. The last few lab workers were still battling with their attackers; although it was obvious their hope was gone. They simply stood in the corner of the laboratory, side by side, firing their revolvers until the weapons were empty.
The creatures closed in.
Budd shut his eyes and threw his arm around Juliette, holding her tight. She squeezed him back and buried her face against his shoulder.
The crackling from the blue energy had become a roar.
Right then, something dawned on me.
Maybe I’m just a bit slow on the uptake. How had Tony known ’bout what was going on, that the time machine would send him back ten years? He hadn’t been there when I’d explained Deacon’s story to the science nerds and, as far as I could tell, the eggheads weren’t big on taking coffee breaks with Average Joes like us.
Surely he should’ve asked more questions…
Budd’s eyelids glowed, unable to block an immense flash of blue light that emanated from the machine.
The sound stopped in the same moment. Nothing but silence remained.
When Budd opened his eyes the blue lightning had ended.
Professor Samson was looking at him, his face half-crazed, laughing maniacally.
A cloud of wispy smoke hung above the platform.
Tony was gone.
59
Budd watched Professor Samson’s head rock back and forth, his pale face distorted with laughter. His dark hair became dishevelled and his thin-framed glasses fell from their perch on his nose to smash on the floor.
The other two technicians, who’d remained at their terminals, were also laughing.
All of a sudden, I felt really uncomfortable. I wanted to laugh along, but I had a feeling I wasn’t supposed to. I had a feeling the joke was on me…
Juliette gripped Budd’s hand, squeezing it to gain his attention. She pointed to the creatures and the few surviving lab workers outside the central chamber.
The fighting had stopped.
All around, the two sets of combatants were now standing among each other. They were looking through the glass walls with smiles upon their faces. Even some of the ones that Budd had believed were dead were now rising to their feet, blood running from superficial wounds.
“What the fuck is going on?” Jack asked. His voice brimmed with fear.
“Monsieur Ashby?”
Budd slid his shotgun from his shoulder, leveling the barrels at Professor Samson. “Yo, egghead, you heard the question. What’s goin’ on?”
Professor Samson stopped laughing and came towards Budd, approaching in silence. The two other technicians made a beeline for Jack and Annabel.
“I’m warning you,” Budd said. “All you need to do is take one more step, and you can kiss this world goodbye.”
Professor Samson halted. He and Budd were only a half-dozen paces apart. Slowly, the scientist’s hands rose up, palms outwards, his fingers curling like claws. His lips furled and his eyes narrowed.
“Monsieur Ashby,” Juliette cried, but there was no need.
Budd squeezed the trigger.
The shotgun clicked harmlessly.<
br />
He tried the second barrel, but again there was no response.
The shotgun was empty.
He let the canvas strap of his shotgun slide from his shoulder and took hold of the weapon like a club. “I’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way,” he said.
Professor Samson charged.
Budd swung and the scientist staggered backwards with blood gushing from the side of his face. To his left, Budd saw Jack and Annabel struggling with the other two technicians.
The MP-5 was on the ground.
His mind raced; someone had unloaded both firearms. They’d been betrayed, set up, and the thought of it angered him even more.
He smashed the wooden butt of his shotgun down onto the top of Professor Samson’s head. The scientist sunk his to knees, his eyes rolling upwards to show nothing but their whites. As the scientist swayed, barely conscious, Budd took another swing, using the weapon like a baseball bat.
The blow caught Professor Samson upon his nose and forced the bone into his brain. The scientist collapsed back to rest on his doubled-over legs. He twitched involuntarily and blood gurgled in his mouth.
Budd turned from the shuddering corpse.
Briefly, his eyes fell to Jack and Annabel who were locked in a desperate fight with the other two lab workers, but there was no time to help them; the mixture of creature-people trapped outside the central chamber were running for the door, seeking to join the fight.
Budd leapt across the short space, skirting between where Juliette stood holding Becky, and where Jack rolled on the floor, battling with his enemy.
Reaching the inner door before any of the creatures had made it into the airlock, Budd scanned the control panel beside it. He found the button he assumed he wanted, which was red with the picture of a white padlock in its centre.
He pushed it hard.
A mechanical clunk came above the din of the central chamber.
The first monster reached the door and worked the controls with his fingers, but when the overall-wearing thing stood back, waiting for the door to drop into its slot, nothing happened.
