Under normal circumstances Vargas might have been able to escape the room,
but in his weakened state and inhaling the deadly gas, he would be just as
helpless as his father.
“Payback’s a bitch son, don’t you think”, Mr. Baily uttered before his lungs
seized. Vargas was gasping for air and trying desperately to use his powers to
bust out the window. The deadly gas was in control and all Vargas could do was to try and hang on for one last escape attempt. The attempt would fail. Vargas collapsed back into his wheelchair; his dead eyes stared out into a world full of life, a world to which he no longer belonged.
Mr. Baily managed a smile upon his departure. A small victory to be sure, but
at least this one he knew he would win.
55
I had just finished my last smoke and reluctantly was making my way to the last room on the right hoping to find Bonner quietly asleep. I had just opened the door feeling relief as I heard silence when red lights along the hallway ceiling
started flashing. Bonner rushed past me as I almost fell over the corner of the
bed. Thomas was hollering, “We’ve got visitors on the perimeter”. Everyone,
some still dressed others half-dressed gathered around the monitors mounted on
the wall just to the left of the entrance.
Two rows of cameras, five in each row had a view of different locations outside. The bottom row monitor, second from the end was flashing red. An old tow truck was parked at the edge of the gravel road leading up to the entrance . Thomas was zooming in on the truck. “All I see is a driver” Thomas stated. Bonner, Hank, and Cory were checking out different monitors seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
The Captain hollered and pointed at the top row of monitors, the first one on the left. We all peered at it as an emotionless face stared into the camera. The face itself was not scary or imposing except for the eyes. They were almost bright red, almost as if they were on fire. Oh crap, his eyes looked like they were on fire,like someone who was carrying a body fully loaded with electricity. “He’s from the compound. He has to be, look at those eyes”, I warned.
No one doubted my unfounded opinion as Bonner and Hank ran into the exhaust room. I could hear the sound of metal clanging and slamming, then silence before they re-entered the main mini model room. “He’s out of view”,
The Sheriff bellowed.
Everyone here knew what I could do, but not a clue as to what this person, thing, and zombie with red eyes could do. Bonner and Hank set up a rather large weapon on the table facing the semi dark corridor leading outside. I’ve never
seen a weapon this big. They were attaching, folding, clicking things into place
and then started loading it with ammunition. Ammunition was all I could think of,
as it was amm unition in the academic sense; it was shaped like bullets only, holy
shit, so big. The bullets, if you could call them that, where about the size of a one
liter bottle of pop.
I was motioned to stand clear as being directly behind this thing evidently was not the brightest of ideas. The Sheriff waved his arm for me to come over to where he was. I had barely made it around to the side of the table when the front entrance exploded. A huge cloud of smoke invaded our area followed by searing
heat. The heat dissipated quickly but the smoke and dust continued to cloud our
vision.
Not a word was spoken and all remained silent as we awaited an appearance from ole’ redeye. There was a few seconds of silence before we could hear the sound of shuffling footsteps. He was definitely not in a hurry. Hank was whispering something to Bonner when they fired the oversized weapon. The light emitted from the weapon was enough to see the outline of their target. The explosion was deafening and added to the smoke and other debris still lingering in
the air.
I heard a high pitched scream but couldn’t locate the source of the sound. Enough of the smoke cleared to where I could tell that their target was still walking upright and unharmed. This was not good. The Sheriff dragged me along
the side of the wall until we made it to the hallway. The Captain was right behind us with his revolver drawn and ready for action, except that I’m sure he already knew that his normal sized weaponry would be no match for ole’ redeye.
The screaming continued as we ran into the exhaust room. That was fine by me, but this was no time for a smoke. The Sheriff still held onto my arm as we passed the washer and dryer and found a door of to the right. The Sheriff tossed me in and waited for the Captain.
The room was dark and cool. I leaned against the wall which was in fact
nothing but rock. “What’s this place”, I whispered? “I saw Cory come out of here earlier with the backpacks, and keep quiet”, The Sheriff ordered. Noises coming from beyond the door were many. A combination of gunfire and what sounded like a grenade, or maybe they got off another shot with that cannon of a weapon.
The gunfire ceased for a moment. I made my way to the door and focused what was beyond. It was fuzzy at first but cleared quickly. I cou ld see the corner of the dryer all the way to the hallway which was filled with smoke. I tried to see
past the wall to the hallway but couldn’t quite see clearly enough to tell what we were up against. Stunned by the silence, the Captain started to reach for the door knob only to be stopped by that catcher’s mitt of a hand that the sheriff possessed.
“Hold on Bill, do you feel that”? My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark
now and could see some of the Sheriff’s face. The Captain was starting to whisper something when the ground beneath us began to moan and vibrate. A little shaking at first, then a little more intensity for the second round of rumbles that lasted about ten seconds.
Everything appeared to quiet down but another large rumble followed by a loud explosion caused the three of us to bounce off of each other. Chunks of rock began to fall from above; the wall behind me cracked which caused more rocks to come falling on us. I used my arms to shield me but my head and shoulders still took enough damage to make me dizzy.
The Sheriff let out a howl of pain but nothing more. I heard nothing coming from the Captain. I only remember another rumble and another knock on my head before I hit the floor unconscious.
56
It had been almost two hours since Mr. Baily had sent Myers on his mission. Jim Catrell stood in front of the window to Mr. Baily’s office viewing the lifeless remains of his former boss and his son. With his right hand he flicked on the
switch which activated the ventilation for Mr. Baily’s office, or should he say, his office. He would have to wait at least five minutes before entering the room safely.
Jim heard the creaking sound of the motors lifting the half-moon shaped door out front. He left the reception area and headed out to meet his arrival. As he rounded the corner he saw Myers walking back over to the stool he was told to stay at earlier by Mr. Baily. Myers was the only person that entered.
“Myers, where is Billy Speer. I thought you were to bring him back”? Myers looked straight ahead as if he didn’t hear and or comprehend his surroundings. Myers continued to stare right in front of him and uttered, “Dead, they’re all
dead”. “What do you mean they’re all dead, you we re supposed to bring Billy
Speer back to the compound? Were those the orders of Mr. Baily’s”?
Myers continued his gaze into nothing in particular, and in addition to no response to his question, Jim pulled out his phone. “Samuels, Catrell here, I’ll need you and two others to bring Myers back to the lab and have him checked
out. Mr. Baily sent him on a mission, to whom he failed and now is unresponsive
to my questions”. Jim checked his watch and headed back to his new office.
First order of business would be a thorough cleanup of his office. The current
occupants of his office would require his c
rew to make the proper disposal
arrangements. This was the part of the operations that made Jim’s skin crawl. He
knew it was a necessary evil to have such tasks at hand.
Four employees in white jackets where wheeling two gurneys down the hall to the former Mr. Baily’s office. They appeared to tower over Jim Catrell, but then again most people did as he stood barely five foot two. An imposing figure he will never be, and he was okay with that. At one hundred twenty pounds, he
would strike fear into no one. He just turned fifty and since his hair had left him
some years earlier he decided to employ the shaved head look.
He had hoped that the new look would put emphasis on his youthful looking
face. The end result was numerous references to Dr. Evil’ s sidekick, Mini Me! Jim checked the gauge outside his new office which determines safe oxygen levels. It sh owed to be safe as he opened the door for the workers to collect Vargas and Mr. Baily. The prospect of disposing of Vargas is welcomed due to the cost of repairs that the compound went through, courtesy of one Daniel V. Marrick. Mr. Baily would be another issue. Jim had the upmost respect for him, his work and what he was trying to accomplish, regardless of the opinions of others. This one would hurt, but he knew that Mr. Baily had entrusted in him to carry on His dream, and he would.
Jim mustered up enough courage to take his seat in his new office. He was in charge now and he would have to start from scratch since Myers malfunction put the program severely behind schedule. Without Billy Speer to run tests on, that left him with the daunting task of reviewing prospect folders that Mr. Baily kept hidden for safe keeping.
One final thought came to mind as he was unlocking the three drawer file
cabinet behind him. He sat back down and dialed the security control center.
“Higgins, you can take us off alert. It seems our visitors will no longer be in route”, Jim ordered. He liked that. He likes being in control now and knows what modifications are needed to provide quality prospects that others are still awaiting and will pay top dollar for.
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57
I tried to scream as my eyes opened, but nothing came out. My head hurt, my vision was blurry as I was trying to make out my surroundings. What had happened, why am I on the floor? The smoldering, burning smell invading my nose jogged my memory banks enough to remember last night’s assault from ole red eye.
Rocks, chunks of rocks were scattered everywhere as I tried to gather enough response from my body to see if everything is still in working order; so far so good with one exception, my ankle. It hurt, but not horribly and as I tried to turn my body to one side. A pain from my ankle spread quickly through my head as I tried to sit up. My eye’s came back into focus in time to see my right foot had disappeared between a few large chunks of rock.
I managed to pull myself closer to my foot problem using my hands and butt as my mode of transportation. After a few attempts I was able to push the rock on top of the pile off and it bounced, not with a thud but with a groan. That can’t be right, rocks don’t groan. My mind cleared just enough to remember that I wasn’t
alone in what was left of the room.
With my left foot I was able to push another rock out of the way and my right
foot was free at last. I hopped to my feet. It seemed like a good idea at the time,
but my right ankle protested my efforts and decided I was better off on the ground. I would not argue the point. Another groan emerged to my right and under a larger pile of rocks and various rock related debris. It was the Sheriff.
A couple of smaller rocks were tumbling down from above which echoed a loud protest from the Captain. Thank God, at least we all survived. The big question was, what kind of medical attention would we all need.
More rocks went flying as the Sheriff tossed and turned in an effort to rise
from his gravely grave. “Son of a bitch”, The Sheriff offered. I was in agreement
with his assessment as I followed with, “Are you okay Sheriff”? A couple of coughs, a snort, and a moment to clear his throat he replied, “Hell no, what about Bill, is he all right”?
“I’ll be fine as soon as you stop kicking more rocks on me”, The Captain
chimed in. There was a small hole in the wall. Just about big enough to put your
hand through. Looking up I saw that it was still dark out and my eyes were readjusting to the dark for a second time. I dreaded what might await us in the next room and more importantly, the model room with big table that they had that huge almost cannon aimed at ole red eye.
“Everybody got everything that they came here with”, the Sheriff’s way of asking if we were missing any appendages that might be useful later? “Shut your trap and help me up you oversized moose”, bellowed the Captain. “Give me your hand”, The Sheriff countered. “Shit, I can’t see your hand, it’s too dark”.
I had no idea of how long we were out cold, but long enough for the pain to announce its presence. I cou ld see the Sheriff standing and reaching down to help the Captain to an upright position. I got myself back up as well, only putting not as much pressure on my right foot. Now that all three of us were standing and taking final inventory, we decided to venture out of this back room and hope
for the best.
The door out offered some resistance as the Sheriff pulled on the handle. He got it open just enough for him to put his hand through the opening and gain a little leverage to finally pull it open. To my surprise there was some light coming from beyond, though not much.
The smell caused us to hold our hands over our mouths. Something had burnt
to a crisp and as much as I hate to admit it, I recognized that smell. Smoke was
filtering from the hallway which was just around the corner from the big model
room. Hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight as the Sheriff led the way followed closely by the Captain with yours truly bringing up the rear. I didn’t want to find what my nose told me we were going to, but with any luck we just might find some survivors.
“Oh dear God”, the Sheriff said with a heavy heart as we stumbled upon the remains of those who were trying to protect me. As I made my way around the Sheriff, I noticed that there were two small emergency backup lights mounted in the corners of two of the wooden ceiling rafters. After a quick glance around the room, I wish that those backup lights didn’t work.
Black scorch marks were scattered over most of the rock walls. Smoke was
still visible but the worst of it had dissipated. The only thing that was close to being intact was the oversized cannon that they used. It was pointing up at the ceiling since the table that supported it had collapsed from the fire .
We saw what was left of Bonner, Hank, Cory, and Thomas but we were unableto tell who was who. I approached two of the burnt skeletal remains and the smell was almost enough for me to lose my lunch. I was fortunate in a sense that my stomach was empty. The Sheriff and the Captain located the other two
remains on the other side of the collapsed table.
I actually despise calling my friends- ‘remains’, and I hope that I never to have to say that again. The condition of them was brutal at best. They were all burnt to a crisp and looking down at the second body, I n oticed that one of the feet still had a Nike cross trainer shoe still attached. That was Thomas; he was the only one of our group that didn’t wear boots of some sort.
“Why do you think that ole red eye didn’t come after us”, I wondered. “He
must have thought he destroyed everyone I guess”, The Captain offered his
explanation. “Or he wasn’t as field ready as they thought he was”, the Sheriff
countered. For whatever the reason, I just felt horrible that those who I
considered friends had to di
e in such a manner. The thought made me sick to my stomach as it also gave way to my anger starting to flare up. This was not the
time or place to lose it. I needed to focus on what I could help with instead of just destroying something because I felt I need ed to.
“This makes me less than optimistic about our chances at Round Mountain”,
The Sheriff stated. “Does this mean that you’re still considering going to that place, after what we just saw, and went through, ouch”, The Captain barked as his right arm was in pain from being partially buried but rocks?
“The Sheriff’s got a point, but if you think about it, it might be to our advantage to go ahead as planned”, my analytical mind at work stated. “How do you figure Billy”, The Sheriff wondered? “If they think that all of us are dead, then they have no reason to be expecting us, right”, I added. “Look fella’s, were down a bunch in numbers alone not to mention that they had all this shit worked out with the C-4 and who was going to place it whe re. I don’t see that it’s a wise move to show up empty handed”, the Captain pleaded.
He did have a point and it would be nice to show up with a nice fireworks
display at our disposal.
“Plus I don’t know how much longer I can stay in this mess, the smell is about
to make me”…………………… The Captain puked before he could finish that
statement. It wasn’t a prolonged bout as his stomach was as empty as the rest of
us. I turned my head so not to have to watch as I figured if I saw him I might feel
compelled to join in the festivities.
That’s when I noticed a couple of items behind the file cabinet that was a few
feet down from the entrance into the model room. The paint was seared and the
metal was still warm to the touch. I reached down with my right hand and pulled
The Road to Round Mountain II - The Alliance: By C.G Roberts Page 20
