Harris stared at the intercom speaker for another moment. He turned around and saw Doc, Welles and Packham staring at him. He didn’t have a good feeling about this, but there was no other choice.
“Packham, get your ass to the flight deck. Welles, take over on Colt. We have to go in and find those fuckers and get our access back,” he said, walking for the door.
“Captain,” Doc called. “Wait and I’ll join you.”
“No. You take care of Hunter and Colt. You’re in charge of the ship.”
“Watch your back,” his lieutenant called.
“Always do, Doc.”
Harris made his way down the corridor toward the flight deck. His mind was in a weird state; numb but racing. What the fuck is going on? How did this turn to shit so quickly? They’re smart. They know they’ve trapped us. They’ve sucked our ship’s power, it’s days until the other team arrives and we can’t call for help.
Why are they playing with us like this? What the hell do they want?
*
Within minutes Harris had reconvened his two teams, albeit without Doc.
“Right, I’m changing our tactics. Myself, Brown and McKinley will go to the main entrance and we’ll make our way toward them. Carter, you and Louis wait at the secondary point and get whoever we flush out.
“When you say ‘get them’, captain …” Carter narrowed his eyes carefully.
“I mean do whatever it is you have to do to get them to stop,” Harris said in a low, flat voice. “If they resist you, then I’ll leave that judgment up to you, but just know that you’ll only have seconds to make that choice.”
Carter and Louis nodded.
“Captain, I come too, no?” Bolkov queried.
“No, with Hunter down, Bulk, you keep your ass on the flight deck, or we’re not going anywhere.”
Bolkov gave a nod.
They grabbed their gear and headed back out. There was a certain edginess in the men’s eyes, but it didn’t worry Harris, because he also saw a fire within them. Smith was dead. Hunter and Colt were down. They knew this shit was serious. They knew this wasn’t a test. This was real, and they were ready to do whatever was necessary to fix it.
*
They made it to their targets again without any problems. He didn’t like that it was so easy for them. The Darwin was too quiet. Although he trusted his men, he still had that feeling in the pit of his stomach. And an image of Sibbie and Etta flashed inside his mind again, like shards of a mirror stabbing into his brain. It worried him that they still didn’t really know what the survivors full capabilities were. But he couldn’t think of any way around it right now. They had to find them and they had to get their access back.
When they entered Sharley’s office, he noticed the wall was still up. Now they just needed to figure out a way to open up the elevator. Brown got back to work with the digital decoder, while McKinley kept his sharp eyes on the corridor.
*
Carrie stepped away as Doc began to work on Colt who, like Hunter, was knocked out from the morphine. He removed Colt’s riddled bullaser vest with Carrie’s help, then grabbed some scissors and cut along the sleeve of her shirt and bra strap, peeling them back. There was one wound clearly visible, right where her shoulder joined her neck, a small pool of blood sat in the groove above her clavicle.
“I’ll need you to swab the blood like you did with Hunter,” Doc told her.
She nodded and fetched some more swabs. It was surprising just how used to all the blood she was becoming. Not that she had a choice, though. Doc took a fresh scalpel and pair of tweezers and began to fish around for the bullet in the side of Colt’s neck. Carrie turned her head away. The blood she could handle, but the fishing she could not. They continued on in silence for a while, Doc hunting for the bullet, and Carrie swabbing her neck whenever he pulled away.
He was a mass of concentration as he carefully picked and pulled at her flesh, searching for the bullet, commenting that her clavical had also been damaged. It seemed like hours had passed before he finally said, “There it is!” He fished around some more and after a couple of false starts, he eventually got it. Carrie tried to block out the squelching sound, as he pulled it out of Colt’s flesh and dropped it with a clunk into a dish he had waiting. He looked around the wound, making sure he had it all.
“Alright, that’s it. I can stitch her up now.”
Carrie stepped away, removed her gloves and went to wash her hands, as Doc began to sew the corporal up.
“I’ll clean up the glass in the other room,” Carrie offered.
Doc looked over through the doorway at the glass on the floor. “Don’t touch the cabinet. I want a close look at that.”
She nodded, fetched a broom from the mess hall and raced back, knowing that time was of the essence. She starting sweeping up the glass and listened to the silence coming from the hospital as Doc continued stitching. After a while, though, he called out to her.
“Welles, did Grolsh shoot Colt?”
“No. He was shooting at me, but his aim was poor … Colt struggled with him, the gun fired and it ricocheted off the ship.”
“Right.” Doc was quiet for a moment. “So what was Grolsh doing with her? Was he trying to kill her?”
“He was using her as a shield, dragging her off with him.”
Doc was quiet again for a moment.
“Why?” she paused, staring at the pile of glass she’d swept up on the floor.
“Just curious,” he said.
Carrie shrugged to herself, scooped up the glass and emptied it into the nearest bin. She walked back into the hospital and saw Doc threading a stitch through Colt’s skin, tugging it. She looked away again. “Is, er, there anything else you need?”
“No. I’ll give them one last check over, then seal them in their pods. Go to the flight deck and see if the others need your help.”
“Yes, sir.” She turned around to leave.
“Welles,” Doc called out, stopping her.
She turned back to him.
“Good job on Fairmont,” he said, his brown eyes warm as they looked at hers. “You saved Hunter’s life.”
She gave him a halfhearted smile. “I had a shot at Grolsh and I didn’t take it. I looked around to check whether anyone was coming up behind me instead. I should’ve just shot him first, then turned. If I did then Colt wouldn’t be lying here now and Hunter wouldn’t have a couple of bullet holes in him.”
“No, you did the right thing,” Doc said firmly. “You’ve always got to check your own safety first. You can’t save anyone else, if your own life’s in danger.”
She gave him another halfhearted smile. “I still should’ve shot him while I had the chance.”
“They’ll be okay,” he said. “You did well. We’ve got one less to worry about. That’s a good thing.” There was something about his voice and the way he looked at her that made Carrie pause. It was like he had more to say, but wasn’t saying it. He held her gaze for a moment then turned back to work on Colt’s shoulder.
*
Harris eyed Brown eagerly.
“Captain, we’re in!” he smiled, as the lights on the elevator’s console began to flicker.
They quickly got into position, and McKinley did the same. Harris held his gun in tight and close to his sight-line. They heard a delicate, high-pitched chime and the elevator doors opened slowly. It was empty.
“Carter, Louis, we’re going in,” he said quietly into his mouthpiece. “Be ready when we flush them out.”
“Copy that. Over,” Carter replied.
*
Carrie sat on the flight deck with Bolkov and Packham watching the screens anxiously. Harris, Brown and McKinley stood in the elevator, gas masks on. The doors closed and they started to rise. Locked in an attack stance, bodies rigid and guns out front, the three solid soldiers filled the space easily. The elevator came to a stop. A second passed, then they heard the chime and a
set of doors opened behind them. It was a two-way elevator.
They quickly spun around, bumping into each other, as they readjusted their stance. Within seconds Harris threw out three canisters of tear gas. The room at first glance appeared to be empty, but it was hard to tell once the smoke filled the air. She saw them looking down at their guns, trying to pick up any body heat, but they registered nothing. One by one, they slowly edged out onto the floor.
From what Carrie could see through the smoke, it was one large room with a corridor at the end. The large room was another lab of sorts, although this looked like a working one, unlike those on the floor below. As they moved about through the wafts of smoke, she could see e-files and paper manuals strewn across tabletops, and consoles alight with information. Watching Harris’s monitor, she saw him pause at a series of screens showing security footage of the Darwin’s ground floor.
“They’ve been watching us the whole time,” McKinley whispered, stopping briefly at the captain’s side.
The three men made their way carefully around the room, through the thinning mist, checking under every desk and around every corner. They picked up no heat. Nothing. They began to move down the corridor, which had the occasional door coming off it. Every door they passed was locked. They saw no-one through the glass walls and nothing registered on their heat sensors.
“Carter? Anything?” Harris whispered into his mouthpiece.
“No, captain,” he replied.
Carrie looked over to Louis’s monitor and watched as Carter held his gun tight and focused on the built-out wall beside the emergency door. Her eyes moved back to Harris’s camera.
“They sure as shit ain’t here,” McKinley seethed softly.
“How the fuck did they get out?” Harris spat quietly into his mouthpiece.
“Must’ve been another exit we missed,” Brown answered in a hushed tone. “One of the spots I took for pipework, maybe?”
“Wait!” Louis yelled.
They heard the sound of zipping laserfire.
Carrie’s eyes jumped to Louis’s screen. She saw Grolsh run off in the distance.
“Carter! Quick!” Louis called, trying to take aim as he chased after him.
“Louis! What is it?” Harris asked anxiously.
“Grolsh,” Carter replied. “We’re going after him!”
“Which way? I’ll cut him off,” McKinley said, quickly moving back toward the elevator.
“He’s running toward Section Two!” Louis yelled back, panting as he ran.
“McKinley, watch your back!” Harris warned, before turning to Brown. “Quick! Look around. See if you can find any information we can use!” he ordered.
They began scouring the main room again, and Harris moved over to a desk that was clear except for a portable touch screen device. As he neared, a small piece of paper could be seen lying on top of it. He reached out and picked it up, and saw the following word scrawled across it: Harris.
Carrie’s heart picked up pace as she watched Louis and Carter run after Grolsh.
“STOP OR I’LL SHOOT, YOU FUCK,” Carter yelled at him.
Grolsh kept running. Carter took aim and fired, but he missed; the golden laser-fire bouncing off a doorway. They cleared Section Three and entered Section Two, on approach to the labs. Carter fired again and grazed Grolsh’s upper arm. He skidded off-course, but straightened up and continued running, trying to pat out the laser burn.
Louis and Carter started gaining ground on him. Just as they passed the labs, Logan and Chet suddenly charged out, smashing into them; one from each side. Logan rammed Louis into the glass wall of the lab opposite, cracking it. Carter saw Chet coming at the last moment and swung his gun around but he wasn’t quick enough. Chet knocked him off his feet to the floor.
Carrie watched as Bolkov’s hand flashed out and hit his comms switch.
“Captain! Louis and Carter are under attack. They’ve been ambushed. I repeat, they’re under attack!”
Harris quickly straightened as though a jolt of panic had shot through him.
“Fuck! Move out,” he called to Brown, quickly snatching the device labelled with his name and tucking it inside his shirt. “McKinley, you hear that? Watch your back,” he yelled into his mouthpiece as he and Brown ran back toward the elevator.
“Copy that,” McKinley replied quietly.
Carrie’s eyes darted from Carter’s to Louis’s monitors. Logan was all over Louis. They were now wrestling on the floor and Logan was growling like a wild animal. On Carter’s monitor she saw Chet throwing Carter’s gun down the corridor. Carter scrambled to his feet and charged at him, knocking him to the floor and they too began wrestling. She looked back over at Louis’s monitor. She could see his hands around Logan’s neck trying in vain to hold him away, the veins bulging in his dark, weight-lifter arms as they gleamed with sweat.
Back on Carter’s monitor, Chet threw a hard punch knocking Carter off him. She saw Carter reach up to his face, groaning, and then pull his hand away bloodied. Chet had targeted his broken nose. Carter moved to get to his feet, as Chet nimbly sprang up off the ground toward him. He landed a swift kick to Carter’s upper arm, causing it to buckle. The survivor grabbed at Carter’s vest and tore it off, then swiftly kicked him several times in the ribs. Carrie swore she heard them crack and crunch, as Carter yelled out in pain.
Carrie looked at Louis’s monitor, as Logan raised his fist and punched Louis’s arm, snapping it. Louis roared desperately in agony, releasing his hands from around Logan’s neck.
She looked anxiously over to McKinley’s camera in the hope he was close by. He was at the door of Sharley’s office and peered out. He seemed to have heard something though, and quickly curled back around the door. He readied his gun and waited, motionless and quiet.
“Oh, Jesus!” she heard Packham gasp.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Bolkov yelled.
Carrie darted her eyes over to Louis’s monitor, where they were staring. She saw Logan’s face had blood smeared around his mouth and across his cheeks. His strange, emerald eyes stared down Louis’s camera like someone possessed, then he turned slightly and spat out a chunk of meat. She heard Louis gurgling deep in his throat, just like Smith had.
“Oh, fuck,” Carrie whispered in pure dread.
Heart racing now, she quickly looked back to Carter’s camera. Chet appeared to be having fun with him. He was walking slowly around the first sergeant, stepping forward every now and then, and kicking him. Once again in the ribs, another crack. Carrie heard the awful pain in Carter’s groan. Chet circled him again, then landed one in the head, right near his camera.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING FUCK!” Bolkov shouted, slamming his fists on the flight deck console, shaking it.
“We gotta get Doc!” Carrie shouted, panicked.
“There’s nothing he can do,” Bolkov snarled, his eyes glued to Carter’s screen.
Carrie saw a flurry of movement on McKinley’s camera, as he sprung out from around the doorway and fired at Grolsh. The survivor dropped to the ground suddenly and skidded along the corridor. Carrie saw the front of his shirt singe with the laser-fire and the blood begin to rapidly stain him. McKinley had got him squarely in the chest.
She looked over to Harris’s and Brown’s cameras as they moved out of the elevator and into the corridor behind McKinley, who was now stalking off quickly ahead, gun at the ready. Harris briefly stood over Grolsh, who was coughing and spluttering and gasping for air. His entire torso was now saturated in blood, the place of impact revealing the melted flesh beneath. It was a good shot and Carrie knew that in moments, it would prove fatal. Harris seemed to wait until he took his last breath, wanting to be sure perhaps, before moving on and leaving his lifeless body behind.
Her eyes darted back to Carter’s camera. She could still hear him groaning in pain, but there was no sound at all coming from Louis’s now.
Carter’s hands were covered in blood and slipping
on the floor, as he tried to drag himself away. She saw Chet still circling him.
“Louis is dead, Carter,” Chet taunted him. “You’re all alone …”
“FFFFUCK YOU!” Carter managed, spitting blood everywhere.
Logan moved up beside Chet. “Finish him, or I will,” his gravelly voice snarled, then he quickly turned his head to stare down the hall toward Section One. “They’re coming … quickly.”
Chet smiled and walked forward slowly. He crouched down and took Carter’s head in his hands. Carter’s bloodied hands tried to remove them, slipping still, but Chet’s grip didn’t release.
“You're a fighter, Farris Carter,” he said eerily. “I like that. I wanted to keep you, you know. Oh, well …”
He held Carter’s face in front of his, dropping his smile, as a glazed expression came over his face. Then his eyes drifted to look directly into Carter’s camera and he very quickly and very sharply, made a twisting movement with his hands. There was a loud crack and Carter’s hands fell limp. Chet released his grip and Carter’s body hit the floor with a thud.
“Oh, Jesus!” Carrie said, shaking, her eyes wide-eyed with panic. “Fuuuck!”
Bolkov hit the comms switch. “Captain. Louis and Carter are dead. They’re fucking dead! Logan and Chet are still in Section Two. I repeat, they’re still in Section Two.”
Carrie snapped her eyes to McKinley, Harris and Brown. They’d been stuck at the door to Section Two, which had been locked, but Brown had just reopened it using the digital decoder. Upon hearing Bolkov’s news, they shot each other a shocked glance, then carefully hastened their pace forward.
Carrie shot up from her seat and ran for the door of the flight deck. Not knowing what else to do, she just had to get Doc.
*
Harris moved swiftly but carefully, with McKinley and Brown, into Section Two. His heart was racing, his breathing shallow and his palms sweating around his gun. As they entered, they saw Carter’s and Louis’s bodies up ahead. A sharp pain shot through him, from his head down to his feet. Jesus fucking Christ!
There was no sign of Chet or Logan.
They carefully checked each lab as they passed, until they reached the bodies.
Darwin Page 38
