Eight minutes later, the low whir of the Blackhawk helicopter pierces the silence of the night. Seconds later, the helicopter makes a low approach, landing a few yards away from the group. Jumping onto the helicopter, Sara is once again pushed into a middle seat with two of the commandos on both sides of her. Mac is directed to a seat in the back. The crew chief slides the door closed, and they are lifted off the mountain, quickly gaining altitude and speed on their flight to Colorado. The hum of the helicopter rotor system gently lulls the commandos into a deep sleep, stress subsiding after their encounter with ground hostiles and flesh-eaters. Sara drifts in and out of sleep, occasionally opening her eyes as she stares at the instrument panel directly in front of her. The instrument panel gives off a green glow and helps her go back to sleep. Hours later, the Blackhawk helicopter descends into the small mountain helipad directly in front of the SOAC command hangar. The helicopter wheels squelch as it touches down on the tarmac, and the helicopter taxis up and into the hangar, coming to an abrupt stop. The large hangar doors slowly close behind them. Stepping out of the helicopter, the crew chief slides the door open, and the commandos climb out and are greeted by General Edwards.
“Good work, men,” he says as he shakes hands with each one of the commandos. Directly in front of the general, Sara jumps off the helicopter. Sizing her up, he estimates her to be around five feet five inches tall. Ken Edwards, towering way above her, walks up and introduces himself.
“Young lady, I’m General Edwards, but you can call me Ken. We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
Looking up at the tall general, Sara scans the military uniform, counting the medals on his chest. Wondering what they symbolize, she quickly puts that aside as she takes a step closer to the general. “Sara Robinson.”
The general reciprocates and gives her a hearty handshake before looking over to the team leader. “Good work, sir. We will debrief later in the ops conference room, level three.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So,” the general says, releasing Sara’s hand and now looking directly eye to eye with Mac, “You are Sara’s friend?”
“Yes, that’s right; we are comfortably acquainted. Guess that would make us friends.” Mac replies.
“Good.”
A door on the far side of the hangar opens, and three armed security personnel in air force fatigues walk over to them. Looking at the security personnel, the general and the first security officer talk away from Sara and Mac. Sara strains to hear the conversation but is unable to make out what they are saying. Kneeling down next to Sara, Mac puts his face close to her ear so only she can hear him.
“I don’t like this. This is not right.”
“Me neither.”
Walking back over to the pair, the general and the security officers stand in opposition before them. “These men will escort you two down to the living quarters. We have two rooms for you. Hot showers, and when you are ready, you can come over to the mess hall. It is on level six. Just push the intercom button on the wall next to your bed, and one of these gentlemen will escort you to the cafeteria and then back to your room where you can rest. We can talk later.”
The general does not wait for a reply, before turning around and leaving the five of them standing in the hangar. The security officers surround Mac and Sara and motion for them to move toward a single door directly in front of them. Walking through the door leads them into a long tunnel that slopes at an incline down into the earth for 200 yards. At the end of the tunnel, they come to a large, steel blast door. Scanning his security card, one of the officers unlocks the door, and it slowly swings open. The door is six inches thick, reinforced to sustain a nuclear blast. Sara watches as the airman replaces the card back into a chest pocket. Motioning for Mac and Sara to move through the door, the group walks another fifty yards into another tunnel and up to an elevator door. Sara scans all the buttons on the elevator and gets one last look at the blast door at the other end of the tunnel as the elevator door closes. Looking back at the elevator buttons, Sara reads the buttons from top to bottom. The buttons are laid out in a single vertical row. Starting from the top, the first button has an H next to it. The following buttons are numbers one through nine. Below the button labeled nine is one more button with a T next to it. She wonders what the T stands for. Looking back at the H, she already knows that is the floor they are leaving next to the hangar. As the elevator comes to a stop, the doors open up to floor level three, and they are directed out into the long, white hallway. Two-thirds of the way down the hallway, two doors are on the left side. Walking over to the doors, two of the airmen slide their identification badges through a card reader next to the doors, unlocking them. The airmen escort Mac and Sara into their rooms, closing the doors behind them. Sara walks over to the door handle and turns the knob but is unable to open it. The small room is not decorated, and the blank, white walls are only broken up with the placement of a double bed on one wall. Just next to the bed is another door leading to the bathroom. Sara checks the bathroom out and decides to take advantage of the hot water. Soon the steam boils out of the bathroom as the bathtub fills up to the top with water. Sarah steps into the tub and sinks below the surface of the water. Coming back up for air, she clears her eyes as the water starts to turn dirty brown from her grimy body and hair. On a ledge next to the tub, a bottle of shampoo and bar of soap sit, waiting to be used. Sara scrubs her hair and body, then lies back in the water for another thirty minutes before stepping back out of the tub onto the bathmat. Drying off with a large, white towel, Sara grabs another towel and wraps it around her head to keep her head warm while her hair dries. Walking over to the bed, she fluffs the pillows up, placing them under the sheets in a way that makes it look like she is in bed. Climbing back into her dirty clothes, Sara again scans the room, looking for a way to get out. Not coming up with one, she decides to push the call button to summon the security airman. A few minutes later, the latch on the door clicks and the officer opens the door. Walking up to the officer, Sara looks up at him through deep brown eyes, and the hardened look on his face starts to soften. He stares at the little gal with the white towel still wrapped around her head, before speaking.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I’m starving.”
Looking over at the other door to Mac’s room, Sara wonders if Mac is going to the cafeteria with them to eat.
“Come on; we can get you anything you want.”
Sara and the security officer walk over to the open elevator, step in, and are on their way down to floor six. Seconds later, the elevator door opens up into the deserted cafeteria. Ten round tables are directly in front of them, with a long buffet line right behind them. Off to the right side, there are rows of condiments and glass refrigerators stocked with every kind of soda, juice, and milk. Walking over to the food trays, the officer grabs one for Sara and walks up to the buffet line. She follows him. Grabbing a plate, the officer looks over at her.
“So, what will it be?”
She looks down the long row of steaming food. Trays of fried chicken, turkey and gravy, rice, beans, fish, and roast beef sit in front of her.
“Roast beef, please.”
The officer loads up her plate with roast beef, adding in a spoonful of mashed potatoes, green beans, and a slice of homemade bread before bringing her tray over to a table and setting it down for her. Sara slumps into the chair and starts devouring the food.
“What would you like to drink, Sara?”
“Milk,” Sara replies through a mouth full of potatoes, gravy, and beef. Walking back over to her with a pint-sized bottle of milk, the officer pops the lid off and throws a straw into it before placing it in front of her. Sara wraps her hands around the milk bottle and draws the liquid through the straw, sucking the whole bottle down at one time. Belly full, and a bit sleepy, Sara walks with the officer back to the elevator and steps in. The elevator closes behind them as the officer pushes button three to take them back up to the bedroom whe
re Sara just took a bath. Slowing to a stop, the elevator door opens up, and two men dressed in white lab coats step in. Sara looks out through the open elevator door before it closes, noticing what looks like an examination table like she used to see at the doctor’s office, just behind a glass window. The elevator continues its climb again, stopping at the next floor up.
“Here we are,” the officer says, motioning for Sara to follow him off the elevator and back to her room. Sara walks back to the room, and the officer scans his card again, opening the door and letting Sara step inside before closing it behind her. She again checks the knob and can’t get it to open. With fatigue overtaking her, she decides a quick escape is better put off until after she rests. Climbing into bed, she rearranges the pillows around her and quickly dozes off to sleep, unaware of the horror going on below her on floor number four.
12
“SO, THAT’S HER,” one of the doctors says to the other one as the elevator closes behind Sara and the officer, leaving the two doctors inside.
“Yes, that’s her; she’s scheduled for an exam tomorrow morning. We’ll give her another night to sleep before the dissection, giving her body time to relax.”
“Yes, that would be best. Twelve more hours won’t make a difference anyway, and it will give her body time to get rid of the toxins introduced from outside the facility.” The doctor closest to the row of buttons reaches down and presses button number eight. The two doctors are medical researchers specializing in autopsy and advanced ET (extraterrestrial) studies. Now a subsection of SOAC, the medical studies division is working on transferring their knowledge of germ warfare into a possible cure for the Ebola 27x strain.
Dr. Nayath Bhakta and his colleague Dr. Samuel Graham were the top researchers in their field, naturally chosen for the project based on their advanced research and reputation for extreme horrific medical dissection processes on live subjects. To the doctors, their justification for carrying out the experiments on unwary subjects was that it was their duty.
The elevator slows to a stop, opening up at level eight. The operations room in front of them still displays an overhead view of Santa Fe, New Mexico, with a countdown timer superimposed over the left side of the screen. The countdown is on six hours, thirty-five minutes, and thirty seconds. Walking out of the elevator, the doctors are approached by General Edwards.
“Gentlemen, what time are you proceeding tomorrow?”
Dr. Bhakta is the first to reply in a heavy Indian accent. “Sir, we will start the dissection at zero six a.m., immediately removing the heart for retrieval of the capsule.”
The general rubs his hand through his hair. “Is it necessary to terminate the subject for retrieval?”
Dr. Graham interrupts the conversation abruptly. “Sir, our directive is the survival of the species. If we have to terminate the subject to gain knowledge and to retrieve the device, then that is what we will do.”
The general moves his hands back through his gray and white hair. “Okay, just make sure she is comfortable before the procedure. Then let me know when you are done.”
“Yes, sir, should only take us twenty minutes.”
The two doctors return to the lab on the elevator and start preparing the operating room for the procedure. On the stainless table next to the operating table, Dr. Bhakta sets up the scalpel, and the bone saw for cracking the chest open. Behind him, Dr. Graham hooks up the oxygen mask, switching the connection from pure oxygen over to another plug in the wall labeled KO (knock out), a gas commonly used before operations to induce unconsciousness in the patient before surgery.
Back on floor three, Mac has gone through the same process as Sara. Immediately after being escorted to his room, he checked the door, and it is locked from the outside. The room is set up identically to the room next door where Sara is sleeping. With thoughts of a hot shower on his mind and no knowledge of what will transpire in the coming hours, Mac steps into the shower to wash away the months of filth. An hour later, he finally turns off the hot water and steps out of the shower. As Mac puts his clothes back on, his stomach starts telling him it is overdue for a good meal. Walking out of the bathroom and over to the call button on the wall, Mac gives it a firm push, fully expecting the security officer to respond. Fifteen minutes later and still no security officer and no reply from his calls, his frustration mounting, he pushes it over and over with no result. With little choice but to sleep, Mac decides to lie back and catch some shuteye.
3:00 a.m.
The internal clock in Sara’s brain jolts her, telling her to get up immediately. With the flashback of her short conversation with Mac in the hangar coming back to her, Sara is convinced that the operation that saved them is not here to help them. Climbing out of bed, she walks back over to the door and gives the knob a firm twist, but it is still locked. Reviewing her memory of the elevator buttons and the lab level, she decides it is time to put some distance between her and the facility. Sara scans the room for a weapon and notices the legs to the bed are metal angle iron. Looking up under the bed, she can see the bolt holding the leg onto the frame. Her fingers wrap around the bolt and nut, but it is too tight to budge. A few swift kicks later, and the leg starts to loosen. Grabbing the leg, she pushes and pulls back and forth until the bolt is loose enough to remove by hand. With a two-foot chunk of steel in hand, Sara pushes the call button, switches off the light in the room, and waits. Ten minutes later, the familiar sound of the scan card beeping and lock opening puts her at the ready. Standing next to the door, she waits for the officer to open it before striking. The door slowly opens, and the security officer steps into the room.
“Sara, are you okay?”
They are the last words he will say. With a swift downward swing, she brings the flattened edge of the leg down squarely onto the top of the officer’s head. With a loud thwack, the officer goes to his knees. He staggers as Sara swings again with a fatal blow, splitting the officer’s head open, sending him the rest of the way to the floor. Grabbing his hands, she pulls the officer away from the door and into the bathroom. She removes the officer’s access badge, 9mm pistol, flashlight, and radio before shutting the door to the bathroom. With the card in hand, she scans Mac’s door, opening it. Mac looks up from underneath the bed cover and can tell the familiar silhouette is his pint-sized friend. He’s not sure how she got out but hastily gets out of bed and into his shoes as Sara walks over to him.
“Glad you stopped by.”
“Yes, I’ve been detained for a while. I’m pretty sure we don’t want to be here tomorrow.”
Mac shakes the fog off his head, thinking about her last statement and remembering the feeling he got when talking to the general.
“Agreed. Let’s find a way out of here.”
Sara remembers the buttons and knows that the way out is directly up to the hangar.
“Let’s go; I got the guard’s access card and pistol. We can take the elevator up to the hangar and be out of this place.”
Moving out to the hall, Sara and Mac walk over to the elevator, where Sara scans the access card, recalling the elevator. Not sure if the elevator will be empty, Sara stands ready with the 9mm pistol pointed at the door. Seconds later, the door opens and is empty. Stepping inside the elevator, Sara pushes the button marked H, but nothing happens.
“It must be locked out or something?” Mac says as he pushes it firmly, the elevator not budging.
“Try another button, Mac.” Sara grabs his hand before he touches it, yelling, “Not that one; that’s the lab. I saw the doctors in there, and I think it is a morgue or something worse.”
Mac looks at her as he withdraws his hand. “You choose.”
Reaching down, Sara pushes button number five. The doors close, and the elevator starts descending the two floors down to level five. As the elevator comes to a stop, Sara and Mac move over to the sides of the elevator to conceal their position as the door opens. Looking around the corner of the elevator, Sara looks into another room that appears simila
r to the lab on level four. Painted on the wall in front of the elevator is a large black 5, followed by the word Necropsy.
Sara and Mac step off the elevator and into the hallway. The hallway extends in both directions for fifty feet before making left and right turns. Down the hall to the left, they move past the darkened windows of the locked rooms. Further down the hallway, they come to a T intersection and decide to take the hallway to the right. Another set of doors equally spaced on both sides of the hallway stretch out for another fifty feet before the hallway dead ends. Trying the key on each door as they pass by, they are still unable to access the rooms, until they come to the last door. As Sara scans the card, the latch clicks, opening the door. She pushes the door open and looks into the darkened room. Feeling around the corner, she switches the lights on. The florescent lights flicker overhead as the room lights up, revealing the contents inside. The smell of the corpses inside tells them what they are already aware of underneath the rows and rows of hospital-white sheets covering up the stainless steel gurneys. Sara counts the gurneys and comes up with twenty-seven.
“What is this?” she asks.
“Not sure what it is, but rather, who are these people?” Mac pulls back the bed sheet, exposing the face of an infected flesh-eater. The once docile citizen is frozen in a horrifying, angry gaze that Mac has seen in person while battling his way through the wasteland. Sara walks up behind Mac and looks around him to see what the corpse looks like.
“Seen that before on the streets.”
Walking over to another gurney, she pulls back the sheet, exposing a teenage girl that does not appear to be infected. The girl’s expression is peaceful, with braids still in her blonde hair. Gurney after gurney, Mac and Sara pull the sheets back to reveal the same scene. Teenage girls are under every sheet except the first one they looked at, all of them the same age, height, weight, and stature. Most of them are blonde and look to be around the ages of twelve to thirteen.
Seven Days To Brooklyn: A Sara Robinson Adventure Page 14
