by Taylor Buck
“Almost there,” Bennett said.
Suddenly, a beeping sound echoed through the room followed by the sound of a door opening.
Bennett and Kelly froze.
They looked to the doorway and watched as the silhouette of a man entered the room. He walked slowly over the threshold while the door closed behind him, shutting out the hallway light and concealing him in the darkness. Kelly felt her arm being grasped by Bennett’s hand. They both ducked down quietly, hiding the best they could behind the thin, aluminum walkway.
For a moment, nothing happened. Neither Bennett nor Kelly dared move, each remained hidden in the darkness. Then a light flickered above the doorway, followed by other fluorescent bulbs sputtering to life. Soon the entire room was illuminated and Bennett and Kelly could clearly see the man who stood in the doorway.
The man wore boots, dark jeans and a wrinkled Hawaiian shirt—unbuttoned revealing a white t-shirt underneath. He stared intently down at the cell phone he held in his right hand. His eyes looked red and bloodshot behind his wiry glasses. His thick, brown unkempt hair was pushed back behind his ears. He looked scruffy and unshaven, probably in his mid-forties. The man turned and walked directly toward the enclosures, not seeming to notice that Bennett and Kelly were there at all. Bennett noticed his mannerisms—jerky and somewhat spastic…like he could be on something.
He continued walking until he was almost directly underneath the scaffolding. Bennett turned slowly and looked at Kelly. He held his index finger to his lips. Kelly nodded back. The man walked to each of the containment factions and peered in each one, bobbing his head around to get a good look inside. One by one, he inspected the cells—seemingly checking to see if the cats were all accounted for.
Beep, Beep.
An alert resonated from the cell phone he held in his hands and he paused to check it. He stood still as he read the screen on the phone. Then he suddenly ran across the room and entered the control room door on the far side. The door shut behind him.
“Go! Hurry,” Bennett whispered to Kelly. They stood up and slowly began shuffling across the walkway again.
They had only made it a few steps when the control room door opened and the man entered the room again. Bennett and Kelly stopped and crouched down quickly. The man was holding something in his hands. Bennett thought it was his phone, but upon further inspection he realized the man was holding a gun. It looked to be a semi-automatic pistol; Bennett could tell by the way the man pulled back the slide, cocking the weapon. Kelly’s right hand gripped Bennett’s arm tightly when she recognized what the man was holding.
Did he know they were there?
However, the man still didn’t look up. He walked over to a computer station next to the first containment faction and placed the gun on the shelf. He began typing quickly on the keyboard.
He’s looking this direction—he’s going to see us. Kelly thought.
The man continued typing, staring directly at the screen in front of him. All he had to do was look up, and Bennett and Kelly would be in his direct line of sight. Bennett was desperately trying to hold still. He felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He wanted to wipe it away but he knew even a subtle movement could cause the scaffolding to squeak and give away their position. He tried to glance over at Kelly to see how she was holding up. He saw her left hand gripping the railing firmly, her knuckles white, eyes wide.
The man switched back and forth between typing and checking his phone. He moved quickly—typing out hundreds of characters like machine gun fire. He checked his phone, typed again, checked the phone, and repeated typing for what seemed like hours. Then his typing finally came to a stop. He pushed the computer away and wheeled it back to the wall where he had gotten it. The man grabbed the gun off the shelf and walked slowly to the door, still staring at his phone.
Thank God, he’s leaving, Kelly thought.
But the man stopped just short of the door and slid into the shadows to his left, hiding himself between the control room and main entrance.
What is he doing?
Bennett couldn’t make sense of the man’s actions, and it made him all the more nervous. The man remained in the shadow for an endless, nerve-racking minute until the sound of distant footsteps broke the silence.
The sounds came from the hallway—two sets of footsteps approaching the door and stopping. The receiver beeped and the door opened up. Two men stepped into the room. One of them was the man that Bennett and Kelly had encountered earlier that day—the one who escorted them off the property. Bennett and Kelly watched in shock to what was taking place. They couldn’t do anything but hide behind the scaffolding and watch from above. Suddenly, the man who was hiding in the shadows emerged from behind the two men.
He was holding out his gun.
A split second later, the situation went from bad to worse.
CHAPTER 31
THE DEN
15 OCTOBER, 11:05 P.M.
“Braden! What are you…?”
The sound of the gun blast rang off the walls. It was deafeningly loud inside the cavernous concrete room. Kelly let go of the railing and covered her ears instinctively. The sound echoed off the walls and took seconds to die out. She covered her mouth trying desperately not to make a sound. She wanted to scream.
He shot him! Why did he shoot him?
The man slouched and fell to the floor with a thud. He lay there and didn’t move. Bennett grabbed Kelly’s arm and pulled her down. Kelly realized she was in plain view and she immediately crouched down out of sight.
DANNER HAD HIS shotgun slung across his back. He quickly reached for it.
“Hold it! I wouldn’t do that,” Braden said. Danner stopped and slowly lowered his arms. His face a reflection of the shock he was experiencing.
“Braden, what are you doing?”
“Whatever I need to do,” he said and walked slowly toward Danner. “I need your attention, Rick. And I think I have it now.”
Danner glanced down at Tegan. He was dead. The bullet had entered his chest at close range, killing him immediately. Kenneth Braden had shot him without hesitation. Danner had been right about him; Braden was a psychopath. And by the looks of him he was teetering on the edge of killing again. Danner had to take his actions into account. He needed to control himself.
“Take off the shotgun slowly and place it on the floor. Slowly! And don’t even try to pull a quick one on me. I don’t have the patience right now—as you can see.” Braden chuckled nervously. He then blinked his eyes repeatedly as if trying to keep himself focused. Either that or it was a nervous reaction. Danner wasn’t sure.
Braden kept the pistol fixed on Danner’s chest. Danner slowly brought the shotgun over his shoulder and placed it on the concrete floor.
“Kick it to me. Over…over here,” Braden said in a nervy stutter.
Danner swept the shotgun across the surface over to Braden’s feet.
“What else do you have there?” Braden pointed the gun at Danner’s waist. “The revolver too. And whatever else Boy Scout crap you’ve got on you. Empty out.”
Danner took off his belt which held his .45 pistol and a combat knife. He lifted his pant leg and unsheathed a knife strapped to his boot.
“Your key too,” Braden said.
Danner placed all of the items on the ground and kicked them away contemptuously.
“Alright Rambo. This way.” Braden nodded toward the containments.
Danner walked over. “Ok, hold it.” Braden walked past Danner, his gun still fixed at his chest. He moved close to the glass—the door slid open. “Inside.” Braden motioned into the cell. “You can have Lorry’s room, since you decided to take her from me.”
“What are you talking about Braden? Take her from you? It was killing people, I…”
“Stop!
I don’t want to hear it.” Braden looked at Danner disgustedly. “I can’t stand to hear you talk, Rick. It pains me. You’re a Gung Ho cowboy. Frankly, nothing would please me more than to put a bullet in your head—which I will do.” Braden grimaced as he spoke. “But first tell me where Lorry is. I know you found her.”
Danner walked into the containment. “You’ve lost it Braden. Look at what you’re doing right now.”
CRACK!
A loud blast rang throughout the den. Braden shot a round straight at Danner’s head from outside the containment. The bullet embedded itself into the ballistic glass directly in front of Danner’s face. The glass absorbed the impact and spider-webbed outward. Danner stared back through the fractured glass, livid. The blast echo faded into the walls.
“I know exactly what I’m doing Rick. Don’t…don’t…ever tell me what to do.” Braden eyed Danner menacingly through the glass wall. “You’re a glorified custodian at this place. You have no business being involved with the brilliant work that is accomplished here. You’re hired muscle and you’re simply in the way.” Braden shut the door to the containment, locking Danner inside. “Now, I’ll ask one final time. Where is Lorry?”
Danner shook his head. He couldn’t believe how far removed from reality Braden had become. “The robot is out in the Beta Sector. I’ll have to take you there myself.”
“Did you hurt it? What did you do to it?” He asked as if deeply concerned with the well-being of the robot.
“I shut it down…it killed two of my men. I unplugged the thing,” Danner said holding back fury in his voice.
“Unplugged…” Braden whispered to himself and mumbled something under his breath. “How did you catch her?”
“We ran the damn thing over!” Danner yelled. He held back the impulse to unleash on Braden further. Danner dug deep to remain calm and not lose his temper. “Braden, it’s a killing machine. You’ve created a robot capable of horrendous things. If Perry had any idea about what your…”
“Dr. Perry is more aware than you could imagine. I’m sure that might come as a surprise to you,” Braden said. He held the gun against the glass and dragged it along the face as he walked around to the next containment. He stopped in front and crouched down. For a moment he didn’t talk, he just remained still, peering into the containment.
“They’re quite wonderful, aren’t they? The way they move—their ability to think intelligently. Tell me Rick—did it terrify you?” Braden cocked his head as he stared into the containment. “Were you there when it made the kills?” Braden glanced over at Danner. “Did the victims scream out to you as they were being chased?”
Danner turned away from him. “You’re delusional. Do what you’re going to do or let me take you to the robot.”
“Very well,” Braden said with a nod, “very well.”
CHAPTER 32
THE DEN
15 OCTOBER, 11:45 P.M.
The rain battered at the roof, drenching the skylight above them. The wind seemed to be picking up outside as well. Bennett and Kelly hid in the scaffolding high above the two men. They had seen a man get shot and now one of them had been locked into one of the cells. The man with the gun, who was called Braden, appeared to be quite comfortable pulling the trigger.
Kelly couldn’t believe the situation they had gotten themselves into. She just wanted to leave—get out of there now. On top of everything, her legs were beginning to cramp as she was crouched down in the narrow space. Her left leg was starting to shake; she needed to stretch it out. However, any noise in a room this large would echo loudly and surely draw attention. She just had to deal with it. Kelly wondered if Tom was uncomfortable too. She couldn’t tell—he looked calm. Kelly looked up at the opening in the ceiling. It was so close. The paneling was only about ten feet away. Maybe if they took one step every minute or so, they could eventually make it there unnoticed. She began to raise her legs ever so slightly until she heard the paneling squeak gently. She stopped. Tom swung his head around to her and mouthed, quiet.
Kelly closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. Come on Kelly. You’re strong. You are confident and completely capable. Now pull it together and relax. It’s the only way you’re going to get out of here alive. You can do this!
The sound of a door opening snapped Kelly out of her meditative state. She peeked down and saw the man with the gun letting the captured man out of the cell. He was placing utility ties around the man’s hands. Now they were heading into the control room. The door shut.
Now.
Bennett and Kelly stood up. They carefully made their way across the last stretch of scaffolding and reached the opening. Bennett looked up at the skylight. Large metal bars crisscrossed in a large grid across the face of the skylight. They appeared sturdy—certainly strong enough to hold their weight.
Rain came down through the exposed skylight and fell on Bennett’s face. He wiped it away and glanced down into the room—nobody coming, they were still in the clear. He locked his fingers together, creating a foothold. Kelly put her hand on his shoulder and stepped her left boot into the foothold. Bennett hoisted Kelly through the opening and into the rain. Once she was through, Bennett reached up and grabbed the bars with both hands. He pulled himself up and was immediately hit by the harsh elements outside.
The wind was fierce up on top of the building; they had to crouch to keep from getting blown off. Heavy rain pellets blasted at them, making them shield their faces.
“Stay low to the ground,” Bennett half-shouted to Kelly. They moved across the narrow web of support beams spanning the skylight. The skylight was drenched and extremely slippery.
“Follow me. Step where I step,” he directed.
Bennett looked down. They were about sixty feet off the ground. A fall from where they were standing would be certain death. If they could just make it across the skylight they would be on the flat roof, which was much safer terrain.
The sides of the skylight were extremely steep—almost vertical as it met up with the roof. Bennett hung over the side awkwardly, his forearms burning as he descended the drop. He could feel his footing began to slip and he reached out to get a different foothold. Suddenly, Kelly came careening down from above him. She reached out to stop herself but the wet metal didn’t provide a viable option. Her right boot came to rest on the bar where Bennett’s left hand was. Pain shot through Bennett’s fingers and he withdrew them quickly—pulling his hand out and jumping down onto the roof. It was about a six-foot drop and he landed hard. His bag opened up spilling the components onto the wet roof. He watched as the flashlight bounced across the surface and fell over the edge to the ground below.
“Sorry!” Kelly shouted.
“It’s ok.” Bennett got to his feet. “Here—I’ll catch you.” Bennett stood under Kelly with his arms out. She let go of the bars and dropped. He caught her and helped her to her feet. It was hard to tell how much of a racket they were making on the roof. Everything was loud around them. They couldn’t hear a thing over the wind and rain. Bennett knew they just had to find a way off the roof now. He retrieved the items from his bag and they began walking along the roof looking for an exit.
“You check that side, I’ll look along here. Walk lightly and try to keep quiet,” he said.
Kelly split from Bennett and walked over to the east side of the building. She could barely see ten feet in front of her as the rain came down in sheets and poured off the sides of the roof. She searched along the edge for a ladder or any kind of way down. Nothing.
A gust of wind hit her from the side and sent her off balance, pushing her dangerously close to the edge of the building. She stepped back away from the edge quickly.
Kelly shivered—her body was soaked. She brought her arms in close and crossed them tightly for warmth. As she rounded the front of the building a doorway came into view. It looked to
be an access door leading back into the building. Next to it was a walkway that ascended up into nowhere—the dark sky. The rainwater gushed down the steps toward her.
The helipad.
The one they had seen earlier today from below.
Kelly looked back across the roof for Bennett. She spotted him, barely visible, leaning over the side of the building. Kelly thought about shouting out to him, but decided against it—not wanting to draw any attention. She walked past the door and stepped over a roof vent. Before her foot touched down, she was suddenly grabbed from behind. Strong hands covered her mouth and pinned her arms back. She tried desperately to scream out to Tom. Her attempt proved feeble as the facemask and the hand covering her mouth muffled her screams.
A sharp pain shot through her neck, immediately relaxing her body. She felt herself being pulled backward through the rain toward the open doorway. She kicked as hard as she could and jerked her body violently, trying to free herself—but her body soon became numb and she was unable to fight back. She felt the rain cease falling as she was brought inside the doorway. The wind howled in protest for only a moment until the door closed shut in front of her. She felt her eyes get heavy and her legs give out. A moment later everything went black.
CHAPTER 33
THE DEN
15 OCTOBER, 12:15 P.M.
The door burst open and Kenneth Braden walked in carrying a woman in his arms. She was soaking wet and by the looks of her—possibly dead. Rick Danner sat up and walked to the front of the containment.