Leaving Level Five

by L. S. O'Dea

  “Have they given you a shot yet?” He hurried to the cell. He was turning them loose no matter what but he needed to know if he had to steal supplies to try and save them.

  “No.” Louis grabbed the bars. “Get us out of here. Please.”

  “Is that what they were going to do? Turn us into them?” Charlie’s wide eyes landed on the cage across the room. “I thought we were going to be their dinner.”

  The enclosure took up most of the other side of the room. It was similar to what he used with the Aranea project. Two male rat hybrids were locked on one side of the glass and two females on the other. No wonder Scottsmoor wasn’t having any luck with mating.

  The two males moved to the front of the cage, the larger one keeping the smaller one behind him. McBrid had to hand it to Scottsmoor. The other scientist had gotten close to success with these creatures. They were Guards but not quite. They had thinner faces, large protruding jaws, long thin, clawed fingers, and gray hair sprouting all over their bodies. They wore T-shirts and pants but the hair poked through and bunched under the cloth. With heavier clothes and gloves they’d be able to pass as Guards—his eyes dropped to the floor—except for the tails that twitched like snakes behind them.

  The larger male’s long fingers clasped the bars, his bulging black eyes never leaving McBrid. He opened his mouth. McBrid’s breath froze in his chest. If this thing could still speak...

  A high pitched chitter slipped from the creature’s lips. He couldn’t understand a word it was saying. McBrid’s lungs started working again. Scottsmoor hadn’t succeeded.

  “Hey, let us out.” Louis grabbed McBrid’s arm.

  “Okay. Yeah. Sorry.” He pulled his lock picks from his pocket.

  “Keys are on the wall.” Charlie’s hand was through the bars, arm trembling as he pointed at the door.

  “Right.” He should’ve known that. They all had to keep a set nearby but not too close. He hurried across the room and grabbed the keys.

  The door opened.

  “What are you doing?” asked Stink.

  “Helping Scottsmoor.” It was time to bluff. He strode to the cell. He needed to appear confident but he couldn’t stop the sweat from soaking his shirt. It must be morning or getting close. They had to go now.

  “Stop,” said Stink.

  “I don’t take orders from Guards,” he sneered, using every ounce of Almighty condescension he could muster.

  Topper walked up behind Stink. “Sir, you need to stop.”

  That was not going to happen. He shoved the key into the lock. A large hand landed on his shoulder and another on his wrist, stopping him from turning the key.

  “Let him go.” Louis shoved at Stink’s hand on McBrid’s wrist.

  “Do not touch me!” He shouldered the Guards while trying to turn the key.

  “Can’t do that, sir.” Topper wrapped his arm around McBrid’s waist, dragging him away from the cage.

  “Give me the key.” Stink’s fingers scratched at McBrid’s hand.

  “No and if you don’t get your hands off me, I’ll feed you to the Brush-Men.”

  That was enough for both Guards to drop their hold.

  “That’s better.” McBrid turned, key in hand, and moved toward the enclosure.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” Topper blocked him. “We can’t let you near the cage until we talk to Scottsmoor.”

  “Then, go ask him, but he’s not going to be happy about this delay.” He could handle one Guard. They wouldn’t expect him to be as strong and fast as he was.

  “Uhm...Topper,” stammered Stink. “Maybe we should—”

  “We should talk to Scottsmoor,” said Topper. “Go find him.”

  “What if he ain’t here yet?” asked Stink. “What if he wanted this done before he came to work?”

  “What if he didn’t want it done at all and we let it happen?” Topper’s face was pale with fear.

  “Yeah. That’d be worse,” said Stink.

  “Go find him and ask.” McBrid needed to be out of the building before the other scientists arrived. As soon as Stink left, he’d attack.

  “What’s going on?” Scottsmoor stood in the doorway.

  His plan was gone. The only chance he had was...“Louis, catch.”

  He threw the key but Topper slammed into his shoulder. Louis and Charlie pressed against the bars, arms outstretched but the key fell to the floor several feet away. He lunged for it, his fingers touching the cold metal for one second.

  “Stop him,” yelled Scottsmoor.

  The Guards were on him fast, Topper hitting his back as Stink slammed into his side. He tumbled to the floor, knocking the key farther away from the cage. He rolled toward it. All he needed was to push it close enough for Louis or Charlie to grab. Topper’s fist flew, punching him in the side and ribs over and over again. He threw back his head, connecting with Topper’s face and then rolled over, shoving the Guard off him. He bolted forward as Stink’s fist slammed into his jaw and everything went dark.

  CHAPTER 38: McBrid

  McBrid winced as his eyes fluttered open. His face throbbed like he’d been kicked. Nope. Not kicked, punched.

  “Get his keys.” Scottsmoor stood by the door to the Brush-Men lab.

  Topper shoved him against the wall, propping him up as Stink dug through his pants.

  “Get off me.” He was dead if they got him into that room. He pushed at Topper who stumbled from surprise, but Stink leaned in, stopping McBrid from escaping.

  “What’s this?” Stink pulled the glove with Aranea poison on it from McBrid’s pocket.

  “I don’t care,” said Scottsmoor. “Just get his keys.”

  “Don’t touch me. I’m an Almighty.”

  The Guards ignored him. They’d been given their orders by their master and Guards always obeyed, especially big, dumb ones like these two.

  Stink dropped the glove on the floor before sticking his hand back into McBrid’s pocket.

  McBrid needed that glove. It was the only weapon he had. He scooted his foot forward but the Guards shoved him against the wall.

  “Got em.” Stink yanked the keys from McBrid’s pocket, holding them up like a prize.

  “Give them to me.” Scottsmoor held out his hand. The Guard tossed the keys and he caught them, quickly opening the door. “Bring him inside.” He stepped into the room.

  “Scottsmoor, tell them to let me go. This is a mistake.” He tried again to reach the glove with his foot as they dragged him toward the room.

  “No, this is perfect.” Scottsmoor leaned against McBrid’s desk.

  “Wh-what do you mean? There’s been a misunderstanding. You have my Guards. Let them go and we’re good.” He bucked and struggled, stilling as the door closed behind him, his only hope lying on the hallway floor.

  “Oh, there’s been a misunderstanding all right but it’s all on your side. Conguise ordered me to use your Guards. I knew you’d be upset when you found out, but I never thought you’d attempt to free them.”

  “Just let me go”—he jerked, trying to get away from the Guards—“so we can talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. You created the problem and now, you’ve solved it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You.” Scottsmoor poked him in the chest. “You want my promotion and you can’t have it.”

  “Promotion? I don’t want any promotion.” He just wanted to live.

  “Don’t lie to me. Conguise told me that Gruder was going to you for mentoring.”

  “That’s what you’re upset about?” He could work with this.

  “Yes,” Scottsmoor hissed. “And it’s your fault. I lied to Conguise for you. Told him feeding these”—he shot a disgusted look at the Brush-Men—“monsters meat had been my idea and because of that, he’s giving you the promotion.”

  “He’s not. Trust me.” The professor had given him a bomb, not a promotion.

  “Trust you?” Scottsmoor shook his head. “I’m not s
tupid, but I do take opportunities when I see them.” He walked to the controls by the Brush-Men cage.

  “Please, you don’t have to do this. Let me go. I’ll leave. You’ll never see or hear from me again.”

  “Oh, you’ll disappear all right. I’m going to make sure of that. Not one scrap of you will remain.” Scottsmoor pressed the button that opened the glass at the top of the Brush-Men cage.

  “Araldo, no. Don’t do this.” He’d watched this happen too many times, countless Servants and Guards fighting and struggling, doing anything they could to not become dinner for the beasts. It never did any good, but his body didn’t care and it was in control now. He threw himself backward, thrashing in the grip of the Guards. “Please. Let me go.”

  “Maybe.” Scottsmoor’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s the information you have on me?”

  “I gave it to you.”

  “I know you didn’t give me all your copies, but you will.” Scottsmoor turned on the computer. “Password.”

  “Let me go and I’ll answer your questions.” He tried to stay calm, but the Brush-Men were clacking and merging in the center of the cage, waiting to tear him apart with their teeth and claws.

  “You’ll answer my questions now or you’ll die.”

  “You won’t find my notes without my help.” Even with his help no one was going to find his secrets. Everything had been in a safe in his house. Protected from fire and theft but not a bomb. He’d never anticipated that.

  “Not finding them is an excellent idea.” Scottsmoor lifted the computer. “If this falls into the cage with you, no one will find them. Ever. And that works perfectly for me.”

  That was not at all the reaction he’d wanted. “Conguise will be suspicious if he finds the computer in with the Brush-Men.”

  “Hmm.” Scottsmoor frowned, setting the computer back on the desk. “Unless...” He smirked. “Suicidal people do strange things.” He waved at the Guards. “Take him to the top. Poor McBrid couldn’t take the stress any longer.”

  “No. Don’t.” McBrid bucked and fought but he was steadily dragged toward the ladder. “Wait. I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything.”

  Scottsmoor ignored him.

  “Stop. Please.” He dropped all his weight and was hanging between the Guards but they dragged him forward without pause. He had to do something. Anything. “I have secrets on others. Parson. I-I have his notes.” He lied.

  “Topper, Stink, stop,” said Scottsmoor.

  McBrid stood, hoping the Guards would loosen their grip but they were too well trained for that.

  “Password.” Scottsmoor’s fingers were above the keyboard.

  He had to stall, to find an opening for escape. “Ah...I don’t know. It’s a pattern on the keyboard. I don’t know the letters.” That wasn’t a lie. Patterns were harder to break.

  Scottsmoor’s eyes narrowed but he said, “Bring him here.”

  His muscles twitched as the Guards escorted him to his desk. He wasn’t free, but he was a little closer to the door.

  “If you try anything, you die.” Scottsmoor stepped to the side.

  The other Almighty needed to sweeten that deal because he was dead as soon as he gave the other scientist the information. “I won’t. I swear.” It was the biggest lie he’d ever told. “But I need my hands to type.”

  “Let him go but stay close.”

  As soon as the Guards dropped their hold, he put his hands on the keyboard, giving them a moment to relax before he spun around, faster than any of them expected. He grabbed Scottsmoor by the shirt, shoving him into the Guards and racing toward the door.

  “Stop him!” yelled Scottsmoor.

  Those words made McBrid move even faster. His hand slipped off the handle and he grasped it again, yanking the door open. Someone grabbed his shoulder. He shoved his elbow backward and was rewarded with a grunt but the Guard latched onto his shirt, pulling him away from the door. Another hand grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around but he wasn’t done yet. His fist connected with Stink’s face. The Guard fell, his grip tightening on McBrid like a vice and causing them both to tumble to the floor. He punched Stink again as he scrambled off the Guard. He had to get to his feet. He had to run. It was his only chance. Topper dropped onto his back, flattening him. He bucked but the Guard held on tight and then Stink added his weight and it was over. He’d never worm out from under the two. Charlie and Louis would be turned into Rattus hybrids, and he’d end up in the belly of a beast.

  CHAPTER 39: Glick

  Glick clung to the leg of the cabinet, trembling as the two hated Guards attacked McBrid. He should help, but what could he do? He was too little. If he ran out there, he’d be squished.

  “Hold him.” Scottsmoor walked across the room and closed the door. “You’re a fool.”

  “Get off me.” McBrid tried to get up off the floor but Stink punched him in the face.

  Blood flew from McBrid’s cheek, landing next to Glick’s feet. It was warm and smelled delicious. He reached out his finger but stopped as his eyes met McBrid’s.

  “Do what you want with me, but let my Guards go. Charlie and Louis. Set them free.” McBrid’s eyes bore into his.

  “Why should I do anything you ask? I won. You lost,” said Scottsmoor.

  “They don’t deserve to be transformed into rats. They’re locked in a cage in a room to the left of this one, three doors down on the right side of the hallway.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Scottsmoor strode to McBrid, his feet inches from the Almighty’s face. “Stink, check the hallway.”

  Glick shifted back into the shadows where it was safe, but McBrid’s eyes followed him.

  Topper adjusted his weight so he was lying on top of McBrid as Stink stood. The Guard gave McBrid a quick kick in the side as he walked away.

  “You can go now and set them free. No one will know.” McBrid’s eyes darted toward the door and then back to Glick.

  “Why would I do that?” Stink paused.

  “I think we hit him too hard,” said Topper.

  “Let them go before it’s too late,” said McBrid.

  “Shut him up,” snapped Scottsmoor.

  Topper’s hand came down over McBrid’s mouth but the Almighty found a burst of strength from somewhere and lurched upward, unseating the Guard for one moment.

  “You owe Charlie. He’s your fr...”

  “Shut up.” Scottsmoor’s shoe connected with McBrid’s face.

  The Almighty’s eyes lost focus and blood dripped from his lips to the floor in a soft pat. “Pl..ease.” He whispered as his head hit the tile.

  Glick sunk farther into the shadows, his body shaking so hard he bumped against the leg of the cabinet. He couldn’t do it. He’d never make it out of this room and to the other one without being caught. His gaze moved from McBrid to Stink’s large boot. He’d be squished like the hatchlings or worse. If they caught him, they might tear him apart like they did to Flea. Flea. His friend. He could’ve helped her if he’d gone to her right away, but he’d waited, too scared to try.

  “Did he kill him?” asked Stink.

  “Nah. He’s just unconscious,” said Topper.

  Glick moved toward the front of the cabinet in halting steps. It was time for him to be brave. He hesitated at the edge of the shadow.

  “Check the hallway and be quick,” said Scottsmoor. “If he has someone waiting, we need to catch him.”

  Stink started for the door.

  This was his chance. He wasn’t ready to die, but he wasn’t ready to lose his friends again either. Charlie needed him. He had to try. He heard Bumpers in his mind, cheering him on, encouraging him like always. He could do this. He darted forward, refusing to think about what might happen. He ran along with Stink’s steps, staying on the far side of the shoe, away from eyes.

  The Guard opened the door and Glick followed the boot, forward and back. The Guard peered down the hallway and Glick hurried out the door, throwing himself flush against the wall.

&
nbsp; “No one out here,” said Stink.

  “Close the door and get him up,” said Scottsmoor.

  Stink turned, disappearing into the room.

  As soon as the door closed, Glick ran. Even with his uneven gate, his legs were a whirlwind of motion. He had to save his friend. This time he wouldn’t fail. He passed one door. Two more to go. He stayed close to the wall in the vast corridor. No one was around, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He passed the second door, his chest heaving but he pushed onward.

  He stopped in front of the third door. Like the others, it was closed but unlike the Brush-Men room there was a small opening at the bottom—plenty big enough for him to slip under. He dropped to his knees. The creatures in this room were probably too big to escape through such a tiny crack. He hesitated. What if they were loose on the other side of that door? McBrid said Louis and Charlie were in a cage but he didn’t say the rat-monsters were locked up. He peeked under the door. Everything was quiet. He crawled forward until he could see the entire room. There were several cages but nothing was moving. Nope, that wasn’t true. Something with long, hairy, narrow feet paced but it was inside an enclosure—safe behind bars.

  Glick slipped inside and stood. Bright eyes fell on him from the cage. It was the creature who’d been pacing. A soft squeak drifted across the room and another set of eyes landed on him followed by tiny chirps that he couldn’t understand. A furtive rustling sounded from the cage next to it and four more eyes locked onto him. He staggered backward, pressing against the door. He wasn’t going anywhere near those things. They were looking at him like the other Brush-Men did, like he was dinner. If they got out...It was possible that he was in the wrong room. He had been in a hurry. He could’ve miscounted the doors. He should double check. He dropped to his knees to crawl under the door.

  “Can you tell what they’re looking at?”

  Glick froze. It was Louis’ voice.

  “No. I don’t see anything by the door.” Charlie sniffed. “Don’t smell anything either.”

  Glick jumped to his feet and raced across the room. No longer scared of the monsters in the other cage. All that mattered was his friend. “Charlie! Charlie!”