by Joshua Guess
“You’re goddamn right, I would,” Samantha began, but I raised a hand to head her off before this turned into an all-out shouting match. She glared at me.
“Stop and really think about that answer,” I said. “How much of it is because of what you—what we—are now?”
The words hit her hard. Anthony flinched even though I hadn’t directed them at him. It was a sharp blow and I knew it, but I needed to make sure everyone was making decisions based on the right information. In the case of the three Triggers in the room, that meant calling out our penchant for violent solutions when I thought it might be a factor.
“That’s not fair,” Samantha grumbled.
I chuckled darkly. “It is and you know it. What were you like before Nero? Were you ever in a fight? I mean, I was, so getting the Shivers didn’t do much more than amplify who I was. Before this thing changed you, would you have seriously put killing at the top of your list?”
Samantha looked away from me, jaw clenched. “Probably not. But it’s not just the Shivers. Zero changed a lot of people.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “World’s a different place now. No denying it. But we get to choose whether or not we’re going to be the kind of people who give in to revenge and take lives just because we can. You know just as well as I do how much bouts of Shivers changes your perspective. We get stronger and faster and we’re happy to fight.”
“Not me,” Anthony put in. “Scares the shit out of me.” Julia put a hand on one of his in that familiar, gentle way she had.
“Just us, then,” I said to Samantha. “This virus gives us the ability to do amazing and horrible stuff. But just because we can, just because it helps, doesn’t mean we should.”
Samantha’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. “Did you just paraphrase Jurassic Park at me?”
“Not on purpose, but if the wisdom of Jeff Goldblum can’t convince you to stop and take a look at your motivations, I’m afraid you’re beyond help.”
Samantha smiled a little wider at that, and the break in tension drained away some of her fervor. After a few seconds a more thoughtful look crossed her face. “It’s not just for what they did to us, or even the people before us. I’m thinking of what they’ll do to everyone who comes after.”
And that, everyone agreed, was a hell of a good point.
The attack came at night, which was the only way it had even an outside chance of working.
Julia had a heart attack.
I slapped the call button to alert the medical staff. Anthony and I were in Julia’s room with her as the sound of gunfire outside rattled against the windows.
The intercom crackled to life, a sleepy voice issuing from the speaker. “Hello? Do you have—”
“We’re in Julia’s room!” I shouted. “When the guns started going off she grabbed her chest and fell. Get someone the fuck in here right now!”
It didn’t take long; the distance between the two buildings was small. The hardest part would have been grabbing equipment and opening doors. Within two minutes, three doctors appeared at the door to find me and Anthony crouched next to a writhing Julia. Barnes was in front, carrying the bag with the portable defibrillator, his intelligent brown eyes scanning the scene in front of him. The other two doctors with him were familiar but I didn’t know their names.
“Give me some room,” Barnes said, setting the bag down.
“Isn’t anyone else coming?” Anthony asked. “Won’t you need more people to help carry her or something?”
“No, we were the ones on duty. Chances are they’re going to be getting up and ready for casualties.”
“Oh,” Anthony said. “So they won’t be listening through the microphones in the walls. That’s good.”
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Barnes looked up from Julia to see Anthony’s dark skin blushing with darker lines. I felt my own body heat up with the reaction, my pulse quickening. With a single motion, I drew the syringe from my pocket, popped the cap off, and jammed it in Barnes’s neck just below and to the front of his red hairline.
Anthony snapped to his feet and rushed forward just in time to grab the other male doctor by the scruff of his neck. I heard the man gasp in shock and pain as the fingers dug in. Anthony hauled him backward, forcing the man to bow awkwardly, and settled his own needle over an artery.
The third doctor, a blonde woman, tried to beat feet down the hallway. Though I couldn’t see it, I knew she’d run into Samantha, Davis, and Ellis.
Barnes stayed perfectly still beneath my own hand. “This is a bad idea.”
“No,” I said. “This is potassium chloride. And unless you want what might be a lethal dose of it flooding your bloodstream, I would stay calm and listen closely.”
“Okay,” Barnes said. I felt the first fraction of a nod before he caught himself and held still, the metal in his neck a harsh reminder of his situation. “What do you want?”
“An exit. They hit the lockdown as soon as they realized someone was out there. But you guys have a way out, don’t you?”
Barnes worked his mouth, trying to dredge up some moisture. “We don’t have overrides for the doors.”
I pushed on the needle a little harder. “That wasn’t what I said. You have a way out. You’re going to tell us. Now.”
“Jesus, just tell her, Abel,” the tall male doctor said. “Not worth dying over. Just let them leave.”
Next to me, Julia climbed back to her feet and threw off the cover on her bed to reveal the makeshift ropes. She began draping them over her shoulder with practiced ease. Everyone else already wore every weapon we’d made.
“There’s a supply closet with a false wall in the back,” Barnes said. “It opens inward. Emergency exit.”
The blonde woman, held in a loose choke hold by Samantha, spoke in an eerily calm voice. “You don’t think those sheets are going to get you over the wall, do you?”
Julia smiled at her warmly. “That’s our problem to worry about, dear. Now please put your hands behind your back.”
“Sorry about this, but we can’t leave you guys here,” Anthony said, the usually quiet young man taking everyone by surprise. “You just got downgraded to meat shields.”
We tied their hands quickly and herded them forward as fast as possible without dislodging the needles. Davis snagged a bundle from his room, holding the knotted end over his chest while the weight of it settled on his back. I couldn’t help thinking of it like Santa’s bag of gifts and had to suppress the urge to laugh way harder than was appropriate given the situation.
Barnes and I led the way. He opened the door with his key code, got us into the clinic. “It’s halfway down the hall on the left, just between two suites. You can’t miss it.”
“No, we can’t,” I told him. “Because you’re leading us there. Once the others start getting out the door, we’ll let you go.”
The door was where he said it would be, which came as no surprise to me. I’ve been mapping every place I spend more than ten minutes in since I was a teenager. Of course I knew the door was there.
Davis set his burden down and opened the door, quickly and quietly pulling out the few items stacked in it to make the thing look like the real deal. He had the inner door open twenty seconds after we arrived, and pushed the emergency door open with a blast of cold air.
A piercing shriek filled the air.
“Fucking hell,” Ellis said. “Remember, western wall. If our scouts got it right, the watchers there should have moved to the front where the assault is going down.”
Davis nodded and ducked through the door, followed by Julia and Ellis. Samantha pushed her captive away, yanking the needle free with no gentleness whatsoever. Anthony was only behind her by a fraction of a second, both of them standing just outside the door.
“Ran, come on!” Anthony said.
I pushed Barnes away from me and darted to the door. I grabbed the bright red handle and glanced at Anthony. “Is there a knob on the outside of this thing?�
�
He looked down. “No. Only opens from there.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ll catch up with you.”
Then I pulled it closed and ran back into the hallway.
“Got an appointment to keep,” I muttered.
17
I got about five feet into the hallway before people showed up. I didn’t have any weapons, but I was still jacked up on Shivers so I wasn’t terribly worried about losing to three unarmed academics.
They all drew up short upon seeing their three colleagues struggling to rise to their feet. I didn’t waste time thinking; I acted.
The first went down hard when I surged forward, grabbed his shirt, and drove a merciless knee into his ribs. I felt the crack and fleetingly hoped they were closed fractures. I tossed that guy into the nearest standing doctor and used the distraction to punch the second guy hard in the temple. Twice.
Pretty sure the force of the hit knocked him out for a few seconds. It definitely gave me the time I needed to pounce on the third, driving her to the floor. I slammed my open palms into her shoulders, bringing my face so close our noses almost touched.
“Where is he?” I hissed.
Her eyes were wide and furious and full of terror. “H-his office.”
I was up and moving before she finished her sentence, pelting down the hall with insane speed. A kaleidoscope of thoughts snarled and fought in my brain as I raced forward.
John was sick. He was sick and he needed help, but there was no help to give him. He was allowed to work because the other option was abandoning the mission, and the colonel couldn’t have that. Moving to another facility, abandoning this fort, would mean more travel and danger. I had worked out the math several times, wondering why the colonel didn’t just pull up stakes and join another research facility.
Too much danger on the road. Maybe not enough supplies elsewhere to feed his small army. Could be any number of factors, but for sure it wasn’t a lack of courage. Which meant the reasons had to be good.
Fact: all available evidence pointed to Newton’s first law as applied to human behavior being true. People in a safe routine will continue that routine unless acted on by an external force.
Captives would be taken, people would be harmed. The fort was a microcosm of human civilization as it had always been throughout history. Complicated, political, built on the compromise of needs and leaving no one happy as a result. Hell, it was even possible Colonel Phillips genuinely thought Doctor John might have a lucky breakthrough. People will justify nearly anything given the right motivation.
The door was sitting slightly open. Why, how thoughtful of him!
I kicked it at a dead run, streaking through the gaping maw in the wall and sighting my prey in the space of a second.
He had a field medical kit spread out on the desk. John looked up in shock, and I’ll give the son of a bitch this: he was fast. With no warning and almost no time to work with, he still managed to get his pistol halfway raised before I slammed into him. I had the advantage of knowing exactly what I was going to do, so getting the weapon away from him wasn’t that hard.
I danced away and raised it, covering him from five feet away before he could do more than sit up.
“Please don’t move,” I told him. “I’d rather not shoot you in the face.”
“You’re insane,” he breathed.
“I guess that makes two of us. I can’t let you keep on doing this, John. You’ve hurt a lot of people. I don’t know how else to stop you.”
“Stop me?” he said, incredulous. “Why? Do you not understand what I’m trying to do here? With a little more time I can save what’s left of the human race!”
He believed it. I saw it in the lines of his face, the set of his shoulders. It was the reckless confidence of a gambling addict, certain that one more game would bring in the big win he needed. He wore the hopeful, hangdog expression of a connoisseur of heroin or pills, sure he could recapture that very first high.
I weighed the possibility he might be right against the cost of finding out, and like the Egyptians of old, the difference was the weight of a feather.
“Tell me one thing,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “The answer might save your life.”
John nodded.
“The patients who outlive their usefulness. The ones who die or whatever happened to them. What do you do with them?”
“What do you mean?” he said quickly. The color in his face rose, and I could see his pulse beat against his throat.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I said.
Then, yes, I shot him in the face.
I gathered up the medical kit, snatched the spare magazines from John’s belt, and ran like hell for the emergency exit. I’d been gone only two minutes or so, but the other doctors were already recovering and freeing each other.
“Don’t want to shoot anyone else, so please don’t give me a reason.” I waved the barrel of the gun at them slightly to emphasize the point. “Your boss is dead.”
Shock spread in a ripple, but I didn’t have time to baby them. “You’re really lucky I was able to talk my people into not killing the lot of you, so pay attention. I think you let John get away with the awful things he did to stay safe. That ends now. If I find out any more people are brought here against their will or start getting the same treatment, I’m coming back. And every one of you is going to die.”
Then I was out the door and heading for the western wall.
The darkness outside was not as total as I would have expected. Even between the buildings, I could see the reflected glow from the stadium lights at the front gate, casting their sun-bright beams down on the ramp. This would actually help us, as the soldiers and guards would be night-blind. The chance they’d be able to see a slim length of rope over the wall nestled back in the shadows was slim at best.
Finding it was as easy as running until I got to the wall and then moving along it. The rope was black and knotted, with a familiar face waiting at the base of the wall.
“Gregory,” I said. “Glad you could drop by.”
He gave me a tight smile and gestured at the rope. He was another redhead, though only his eyebrows would have given it away. In the months I’d known him, the guy had gone from being a terrified follower to a dedicated scout. I’d shown him mercy and compassion when I had every right to put a round in his skull, and he’d repaid the second lease on life by throwing himself into the community. Now more trim and with a shaved head, he had the same weather-beaten look as every other survivor.
I worked my way up the knotted rope as fast as I could manage, only pausing at the top of the wall to switch grips to the other, much longer rope dropping down to the darkness outside the fort. I was thankful it also had knots to make the climb easier, because I was not a fan of having to freehand down the thing in the dark.
The walls themselves were ten or twelve feet high, but the exterior drop was more like forty where I was. Another ten feet south and the drop was worse thanks to the steep hill the fort was built on.
Gregory began climbing when I was halfway down. Someone must have seen him, because shouts began ringing out close to our position as he threw his leg over the wall. I picked up the pace as much as possible, deeply regretting not working out during my captivity.
I got to the bottom and hugged the wall until Gregory reached me. His feet hit the sloped, uneven ground and his whole body whipped in a big, exaggerated motion to dislodge the hook holding the rope up. He was reeling it in on the run, heading toward the tree line a hundred yards away.
Never have I been more keenly aware of how little protection clothing offers. I hadn’t worn armor in weeks. The night air was crisp bordering on cold, and the light color of my thin clothing would make me an easy target for any gunman above who decided to take a shot.
Fact: the average non-athlete can sprint at around twenty miles an hour, or just shy of thirty feet per second. If Gregory and I weren’t hitting that mark, we were damn close to
it. The thunder of guns could still be heard, though it was impossible to tell if they were shoots aimed at us or more responses to the attack.
Given the lack of bullet holes in me, I bet on the latter.
We reached the woods unscathed, forced to slow down just before slipping between the trees. Because honestly, managing a daring escape only to impale myself on fallen deadwood seemed like the sort of cruel and embarrassing joke the universe would play on me just for shits and giggles.
“Did you both make it? It’s so dark,” said Julia in a fierce whisper.
“Both here,” I said. “We need to move. Gregory, I’m assuming you have more of an exit planned than just getting us to the woods?”
“Yep,” he said. “Follow me. We got a ride waiting.”
Anthony cleared his throat. “We’re in the woods at night. You’re kind of hard to see.”
In response, Gregory snapped a glow stick and shook it to life before slipping it into a bag on his belt that dimmed it down considerably. Bright enough that we could see it within ten or fifteen feet, but not shining so much to notice it past that.
We walked as quickly as we could while still being careful not to trip on any roots or step into any holes. I tried not to let the giddy sense of freedom overwhelm me, but it was a close thing. I wanted to do a Maria von Trapp and start belting out show tunes.
I didn’t. Obviously it would have given away our position, but the very real possibility that my singing voice might make the others kill me was also a factor.
“What is that?” Davis whispered behind me.
“Glow paint,” Gregory said. “Had to mark the trail somehow.”
There was indeed a glowing patch slapped onto the bottom of a tree branch. I snickered. “Man, that’s clever. Can’t be seen from above. How did you get so smart, Greg?”
