The Maddening: Book 2 in the Terror Saga

by Nicholas Head

  “And you think that’s better?” she said, placing her hands firmly on her hips and arching a perfect eyebrow.

  “Okay, I know, but I’ve told you everything I can. You are either in or out.”

  Chenoa scoffed at his idea. She stared at the face of the man she loved, the same face that could get away with murder if he shot his accuser his famous boyish grin. Before she could give it much more thought—or rather cave a bit more—a slow thumping noise sounded against the door to the stairwell as someone outside tried to turn the handle. A quick and violent bang followed when the door didn't open easily.

  “In or out? I’ve only got that door jammed enough to keep them out for maybe ten more seconds,” Cooper looked at her, needing an answer.

  “I’m thinking,” she snapped in a harsh whisper.

  “Chen…”

  The banging grew louder and the door rattled like it was about to burst off its hinges. Chenoa nodded yes. She felt his hand grip hers as she pulled her close and planted a quick kiss on her cheek.

  “Now go!” he said, releasing her and placing the eternal flame lighter in her palm.

  With one last explosive hit, the door swung open and slammed into the wall. Chenoa sprinted to her target position behind the desk in the southernmost office. It was a tight fit, but she made it in. Her hands shook rapidly as she pulled the lighter from her pocket. She could just see the tops of the intruder's heads.

  “… Yeah, someone is in here. Too bad for them; they did a lousy job barricading the door. You two go check out those offices,” Chenoa recognized the handsome voice—Truthmore, “there aren't too many places they could hide, so it should be easy to find them.”

  Chenoa peaked around the desk, spotting a tall, physically commanding, raven-haired woman heading her way. Flanking her was the wheezing young man from the pharmacy, glad in full ill-fitting body armor with a pistol wedged firmly in his grip. His slight frame reminded her of Lito—the spy who backpedaled on helping them.

  As soon as the two attackers crossed the halfway point, Chenoa flicked the faultless lighter, igniting the bandages. In seconds, the thin material went up in flames. If they burned too fast, they wouldn’t be able to set the plastic chairs on fire. Whoosh!

  The flames spread to the chairs, and the smoke billowed from the office door. That was her cue. Chenoa pulled her shirt up to cover her mouth and got down on her hands and knees. Crawling to the middle office would be easier, with the glass walls having already been shattered. With smoke filling the room, her eyes started to burn; it was spreading faster than either of them had expected.

  It didn’t take long before the attackers noticed the orange flames dancing up to the ceiling, “Truthmore! We’ve got something over here!”

  The two were in a full sprint now, closing in on her. Chenoa made it to the other office as the woman and man neared. Pulling up, the raven-haired woman stopped right outside the doorway. The smoke had made it nearly impossible to see, but she and Cooper had counted on them being impatient. The imposing female waded into the smoky area, gun at the ready.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she called back to the others, “They’re the ones who are trapped. There’s nowhere for them to go,” the boy said.

  The northernmost office provided minimal cover, so she would have to wait to make her move at the last possible second. With the smoke as thick as it was, the boy wasn’t taking the bait. He would need more motivation.

  Twenty

  Marisha

  The floors flew by as Marisha glided up the stairs. She still hadn’t seen anyone in the group, and it was beginning to worry her. The only sounds were that of explosions and gunshots. For all she knew, everyone could be dead, but she had to check.

  The 12th floor flew by, and she looked just long enough to see that it was open. If they were only this far, then their chances of survival were that much greater. Thud, thud, squish—her feet nearly came out from under her. She grabbed the handrail just to keep from landing on her back. It felt like stepping in oil, but that wouldn’t have made sense. With the sun gone, it was nearly pitch black in the stairwell. Reaching down and her lungs heaving, Marisha used her finger to touch whatever had caused her to lose footing. It was more sticky than expected, with a metallic smell. It can’t be that.

  As soon as the reality hit her, she staggered back and could barely catch her breath. Wiping it off on her pants as quickly as she could, she continued up the stairs, only this time much more hesitant with each careful step. The platform on the next floor only brought more of the same—a lot more.

  Marisha closed her eyes and plodded up the steps. If I can just make it to the 14th floor, she thought, then maybe it will be ok. Maybe she will be ok.

  Marisha's shoe landed in more of the liquid substance on the floor, and her weight crunched into the shattered glass. She knew what she stepped in, just not who it belonged to. Clenching the handrails, she closed her eyes and continued on. Thoughts raced through her mind, trying to figure out which of her friends it came from, knowing that there were only two of them that should’ve been up this high. She tried to take slow, deep breaths to calm herself, but they quickly turned vengeful.

  How did everything turn so awful, so fast? These poor people took us in, not knowing their lives would be on the line just for helping us. I wish we had never found this place.

  Unsuccessfully holding back tears, she pushed forward. Her hand reached the top of the banister, and she stopped. The sweet iron smell had become so strong her mind could no longer ignore it. Stepping up on the platform, her foot made contact with concrete, and she sighed in relief—no body.

  Maybe, whoever it is, just lost a lot of blood. I can do this.

  Only she wasn’t so lucky with her next step. Whatever she stepped on was first squishy, then solid. The sound of something cracking under her foot caused her to pull back. Marisha had stepped on enough hands and fingers to know what it was.

  She reached down, only at the last second stopping. Focusing ahead, she opened her eyes to look at the door in front of her. There was the unmistakable orange and green of Colleen’s flannel shirt hanging from the crash bar latch. Breathing through her mouth, she deliberately panned her head down and to the right, readying for the worst. Why delay the inevitable.

  Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes focused in the dark. The shock of dark brown hair and masculine features came into view; it wasn’t Colleen. The premature gray of Dr. Vasquez’s hair gave it away. Marisha reached down and felt for a pulse, feeling nothing. Although there was some relief, it wasn’t good news by any means. The man who had saved Colleen’s life was dead. Grabbing him by his arms, she pulled his lifeless body through the doorway, leaving him just to the right of the entrance. She found an old lab coat on the floor and spread it out over his body; if they made it out of here, she would be sure to give him a proper burial.

  KABOOM!

  An explosion rattled beneath her feet, knocking her into the wall. Just as she regained her balance, there was another explosion; only this time, it was much more powerful. She gripped the door frame, but her muscles weren’t strong enough to keep her upright. Her arms buckled, and her head crashed into sheetrock. Brightly colored discs floated past her vision, imbuing panic inside her. I’ve got to stay awake. I won’t get lucky again if I pass out.

  Marisha kept moving as she heard shouts, then the pounding of feet on the steps outside the door. She pulled herself into the cleaning closet just in time before someone burst inside.

  “Get up here now!” A man said, somehow not out of breath.

  She might not have been able to make out faces through the vent in the door, but just movement would do. Absentmindedly, she ran her fingers down the wood door. Each fingertip landing with a dull thud.

  1…2…3…4 over and over.

  “Artem, I have a feeling I will no longer be needing your services,” Truthmore said, plucking the fabric that hung from the door. The burly man behind him nodded at him. Marish
a quickly inhaled and moved her hands to her sides. Her counting rapidly increased until the numbers all ran together. She wasn’t sure how long it took, but Marisha finally exhaled.

  “You go ahead and take care of the other one on 16. I believe that I’ve already found what I am looking for.”

  Twenty-One

  Cooper

  Cooper had positioned himself behind a makeshift bunker of vinyl-covered weight benches and particleboard furniture. He had no delusions that it would stop bullets, but hoped it was enough to keep him hidden from the enemy.

  Looking back to the northeast corner, he could just barely make out the two precariously placed oxygen tanks. He lifted his pistol, found his target, and fired. It would only take one shot.

  Boom! The tank explosion caused the remaining tanks to ignite in a chain reaction, shaking the walls. Cooper hoped they would take the bait; humans were, in fact, predictable. The chaos caused the two remaining attackers to hunker down and wait. The woman and young man had played into his hand, blindly running towards the middle office, hoping to use the desks as cover. They pulled up short, seeing the office was engulfed in smoke. Cooper hoped Chenoa wouldn’t chicken out; they had come this far. There was no turning back for them.

  Where is she? She should have been—Something thunked the dark-haired woman in the back of her skull, causing her to immediately do an about-face. This better work.

  “What was that?” she growled. Her hand went up to her skull and felt the area. When she pulled back her hand, blood visibly stained the tips of her long fingers.

  “Don’t ask me. I didn't see anything. Maybe you’re imagining things,” replied the boy.

  “I can’t imagine something hitting me, you idiot.” She put her bloody fingers in his face, “I came from in there.”

  Chenoa ducked down just in time, as the two attackers' heads spun in her direction. The room was still incredibly smoky, and her oxygen would be running out; it was time for her to vacate the office. Stooping to her hands and knees, she began to crawl to the northernmost office. The woman and the young man should have let it be, but curiosity had taken hold.

  Cooper saw the two closing in on the middle office, guns raised and ready to fire across the room. He could tell the smoky air made it difficult enough for them to see anything as they stepped inside, but he was essentially blind, praying she had done her part precisely as planned.

  The only thing he had on his side was that he knew exactly where everything had been placed. The hastily constructed booby trap had only one purpose. Cooper stood up and raised his pistol. He had one shot, and missing was not an option. Their patience would run thin once they knew the office was empty. He took a huge breath, held his aim, and squeezed.

  Polina and Bryson never had a chance. The explosion was deafening. The detonation had such massive force that it pushed everything out the broad panoramic window, including the two people standing in its path. There were no screams or shouts, just an enormous hole in the 12th story.

  Chenoa looked toward the exit just as the doors slammed shut. The chicken had already turned tail and ran.

  Twenty-Two

  Colleen

  The explosion traveled from the bottom of her head to the tips of her fingers. It was close, but not close enough to rattle her teeth out of her head; of that she was sure. She just hoped that her people weren’t on the receiving end of such ferocity. Everything around not tied down had rattled in place. It would probably be a good idea to check and see if anything had changed for the worst.

  This plan was already shaky enough as it was, without bombs, or whatever that was going off. They had already taken out Dr. Vasquez; who was to say everyone else wasn’t gone as well?

  Colleen stopped, took a breath, and made her way to the closet. She at least had to make sure she could still get power when she needed it. Who knew if the explosion had damaged the building power grid? Just one weak link and it would all fall apart like a house of cards, with imminent death knocking on her doorstep.

  Slipping through the narrow entryway, she found the breaker and flipped it.

  Nothing.

  Her heart raced, and she felt lightheaded. She flipped every other breaker off and then tried again. This time the breaker flipped back by itself. With each try, she got the same result. Gah! Why now! Colleen screamed in frustration inside her head.

  She pulled out the offending breaker from the box's space and threw it against the wall, splintering plastic everywhere. She grabbed a working one from another spot, installed it, and crossed her fingers. Flipping on the breaker, the room came to life. In the other room, she could hear the humming of equipment as it ramped up. As it got louder, the sound of metal shaking increased. Reaching over, she turned it back off again. Someone was going to pay for the doctor's death.

  Twenty-Three

  Marisha

  At first glance, his appearance didn’t strike her as menacing—but she wouldn’t be fooled. The chiseled jaw, soft eyes, and relaxed posture didn’t hint at any of the evil that rested inside his six-foot frame. If Marisha had seen him on the road, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance. Not to say he was generic, but there certainly was nothing remarkable about him.

  She almost felt sorry for him and wondered how someone so normal could turn so bad. She shook her head like she was clearing a plan that had been drawn in the sand, removing the misguided thoughts from her head.

  Truthmore entered the room and stepped alongside the circular front desk, almost like he was stalking his prey. With every few steps, he paused and turned his entire upper body as if he was hoping to hear something that would give away her position. His body became rigid and more robotic, as if he was fighting with his skeleton.

  With his comment earlier, she knew he believed he would find Colleen here. He thought he had found the smoking gun for his nemesis in that green and orange fabric. As he continued around the room, she held her breath as he crossed in front of her. He came mere inches from the door to the shallow closet and stopped. She saw his eyebrows furrow together in the weak light, shifting his gaze toward something she couldn’t see.

  It was so quiet that she could hear the metal door hinges creak from the change in air pressure. Her heart felt like it was about to hammer out of her chest. The blood pumping through her limbs bulged in her veins, causing tiny convulsions in her clenched fists.

  Appearing to be satisfied with his search, he continued past her and around the curve of the enormous desk. Before long, he was out of view, allowing her to gradually exhale, still mindful to not draw attention to her location. As the minutes dragged on, any sign that he was still looking for her had vanished. No steps or words, nothing to give him away. Instead, all that remained was an uncomfortable silence. Maybe he’s given up?

  Marisha adjusted her feet and pressed her face against the metal vent, trying to get a better view of the room. Feeling comfortable with the idea of him being gone, she turned the tarnished brass handle and nudged the door open. She stepped out onto the black-and-white checkered floor, quickly looking to her left. Nothing.

  She reached into her jacket and fumbled for her knife. Her hands were still shaking from the adrenaline. No sooner had she cleared the door, a sharp pain shot through her spine. She arched her back and tried to pull away, but a firm hand pulled her back toward the pain.

  “All I have to do is push, and I paralyze you for life. No more walking, running, or pissing on your own. Soon enough, you’d be miserable because of the burden you’d put on everyone. The guilt would eat at you until you want to take your own life. Jokes on you though, you’d need help for that too. Good luck finding someone to do it for you. That is, once I filet your pathetic girlfriend,” the smooth voice whispered in her ear as terror filled and electrified every nerve in her body.

  Marisha flinched at that and tried to turn around, but his grip was a vise, as he dug the knife tip deeper. This time she could feel a warm trail of blood trickle down her back.

  "I m
ust have hit a nerve, inside and out, I see. That’s what she is, huh? Your girlfriend? I’ll be honest. I never would've taken her for a lesbian. I mean, she was sweet on ol’ Lito there for a bit. I can’t say for sure, but I think he might have gotten a taste before you,” she felt his breath on the hairs of her neck and the warm puffs that grazed her skin as he chuckled.

  “You, you freak!” Marisha yelled out through the tears that threatened to escape from her eyes.

  “You know, maybe she’s just a girl of convenience. I wouldn’t take it too hard. She’s probably already bolted; she’s not one to stick around once things get hot.”

  “Listen here you—” His grip tightened, pulling her back, almost knocking her off balance.

  “No, you listen. I’m going to need you to do me a favor.”

  “Why? Are you disappointed I wasn’t who you were looking for?” She tried to appear in control, but her words shook, betraying her. Marisha's jaw clenched as the pain increased, slowly traveling up her exhausted body.

  “Quite the opposite. You’ve turned into quite the poker chip for me. Right now, Artem is hunting her down, readying her for a little fun.”

  “You think she doesn’t know what’s coming? Your man is in for a rude awakening when he steps foot on the same floor as her.”

  In all the posturing, he let up. It wsn’t much, but it was enough to relieve some of the pain. She spread her hands apart and down, but it’s too much, too soon. He pounded a fist into the back of her neck, nearly bringing her to her knees, “Oh, little bird. Did you think I wasn’t watching you? I appreciate your loyalty. I really do, but I believe the dead doctor laying on the steps just below us indicates otherwise.”

  The pain was immense, causing her to gag. Her vision turned into a veil as the metallic taste of blood spread across her teeth.