Stories by Kiera Dellacroix

by Dellacroix, Kiera

"Well, I guess you do," Alvarez said with thinly veiled contempt.

  "Knock it off," McNeely said. "Ring, Hanson, Watkins, and Rivers get to keep the home fires burning. The rest form up."

  "I'm going," Corky stated. "She may need help."

  "Doctor," McNeely said. "If we find her and she's injured, you can't treat her out there. We'll get her back here on the double."

  "I want to go."

  McNeely sighed. "You're staying here because if she were present, she would never allow it," he said. "And I won't either. You would be a liability."

  "I'm going," she said with narrowing eyes. "And you can't stop me," she added defiantly.

  McNeely raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes I can," he rumbled. "Although I'd rather not. Please, don't make me."

  "I will not stay here! And we don't have the time to be talking about it."

  McNeely eyed her carefully. "You're right, we don't have the time," he agreed suspiciously and turned to whisper in Reynolds's ear.

  The Chief turned to leave the room, reappearing a minute later carrying several long strands of network cable that he handed to several of the soldiers.

  "Do you wish to reconsider, Dr. Rivers?" McNeely asked.

  Corky bared her teeth.

  With a nod from McNeely, the men began to slowly advance on the little doctor.

  --------

  Ten minutes later, McNeely sealed the lab door and joined the rest of the men in the hallway, ruefully dabbing at the scratches on one cheek with a finger.

  "Jesus," he whispered. "She fought like a fuckin' Comanche," he added, getting several nervous chuckles of agreement. "Alright, DeSoto and Daly you're on point with me. Chief, Terrel, and Butler, bring up the rear. Alvarez you got tunnel duty. Use your radio. The rest of you form up between us single file."

  "Right," Alvarez agreed, moving forward quietly and dropping through the hole in the floor. "Clear," he added a moment later through McNeely's radio.

  McNeely nodded. "Remember boys, head and legs. Anything else is a waste of time."

  III

  Malory considered her alternatives, not particularly fond of any of them. She cursed herself for losing her radio, knowing that if she had retained it, she could at the very least, let everyone know that she was okay. She considered using the intercom but to do so would require bringing the complex out of lockdown, an action that wasn't option as it would release the seal on the all the doors. The worry over her own situation was only slightly less than her concern for those still among the living; a diminutive brunette principal among them.

  She assumed herself to be the only one in immediate dire circumstances as she had overheard no shots being fired, either before or after her own. She felt sure she would have heard them if any had occurred. Being underground almost guaranteed the resonance and echo of gunfire to travel undiminished from one end of the complex to the other and she considered the lack of such noise a good sign. Unfortunately, if she wanted to look for bad signs, she had to look no further than her own body.

  Her left shoulder was definitely dislocated and any further thought beyond that complication was determinedly silenced. The mere idea of undergoing a repeat of the surgery and therapy she had endured upon infliction of her past injury, made her want to cry. Her ribs were now definitely broken for when she moved, she could feel the ends grinding together and she could only hope that she wasn't bleeding internally. Breathing in through her nose was an exercise in stinging pain and even the thought of a gentle breeze wafting over it resulted in throbs of misery. But the biggest kick to the head, the one that really pissed her off, was the telltale cramps that alerted her to the early arrival of her period.

  It was just too much.

  Angry blue eyes rose to find Garret still staring at her through the window as if she were a rack of lamb and a plan began to form. The creatures were smart but they didn't know as much as Coy had led her to believe.

  Intending to prove it, she rose stiffly to her feet and spent a few minutes foraging through the desks and cabinets, eventually accumulating all the necessities to implement the first stage of her plan.

  Scotch tape and paper in hand, she approached the door and began to cover the porthole, slowly obscuring her activities from the unnerving eyes on the other side. The results of her labor were not appreciated and the thud of fists pounding against the door became loudly audible.

  "Don't worry," she mumbled. "I'll be getting back to ya."

  --------

  "Untie me," Corky growled from her hogtied position on the floor.

  Hanson rubbed his watering eye, still stinging from its collision with the toe of the doctor's errant boot. The woman had put up a furious fight, kicking and screaming wildly. More than one of his colleagues had suffered an impact from her madly flailing hands and feet before they finally managed to subdue her.

  "I said, untie me," Corky fumed, wiggling violently on the floor.

  Hanson shot a look at the Lieutenant and almost laughed, knowing that if the situation wasn't so serious, he would have. Ring was seated with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, looking as if he might vomit or cry, perhaps both. The man had taken a vicious blow to the groin at the onset and was still suffering from the repercussions.

  "Untie me, goddamn it!" Corky yelled.

  He rubbed his eye again. "Promise to behave if I free you?"

  "I promise to kick your ass," she hissed.

  Watkins chuckled from across the room and he tried to ignore him. "Then I'm afraid we'll have to wait until McNeely gets back."

  Corky went completely still and growled her frustration. "Okay, I promise," she ground out reluctantly.

  "You sure now?"

  "I said I fuckin' promise," she practically screamed.

  "That language isn't very ladylike," he teased.

  Corky craned her neck around to glare murder in his direction.

  Ring finally emerged from his exile of affliction and chuckled. "Cut her some slack, Sergeant."

  "Oh, alright," he relented easily, moving forward and drawing his knife.

  Corky fought the urge to charge the man as she regained her feet and threw the cables still dangling from her wrists to the floor in irritation. She straightened her clothes with agitated hands and narrowed her eyes at the smirking Sergeant.

  He acted quickly and extended a finger in reminder. "You promised."

  Her lips tightened into a thin, tense line and she reached for the only weapon she could think of. "When the Commander gets back," she said threateningly. "I'm telling on you."

  Her comment only succeeded in generating a chuckle from all three men.

  Corky huffed and stomped off through the nearest door.

  --------

  "Alvarez, we're halting," McNeely said into his radio and signaled a stop to those behind him.

  "Understood."

  McNeely wiped his forehead with his sleeve "Chief," he called out with a wave.

  Reynolds came forward and knelt next to him on one knee.

  "We've cleared half the complex and seen no sign, they've got to be close," McNeely said quietly.

  "Yeah, I figured we'd have run into at least one by now," Reynolds replied, searching the hall in front and behind with a cautious gaze, his eye suddenly freezing on the ceiling behind them.

  "Doug," he whispered and pointed to the roof.

  McNeely followed the finger to a ceiling tile that was slightly ajar and directly above Butler and Terrel. "Jesus," he whispered, standing rapidly to call out to the men. "Butler, Terrel above…"

  His warning came a second too late as the roof abruptly rained down on them and Gallagher fell from above, landing on his feet with an unnatural grace. Terrel rolled away as fast as the flame unit strapped to his back would allow, bringing his weapon up but hesitating to fire for fear of enveloping Butler and a group of civilians in flame.

  Butler was not as fortunate, Gallagher landed directly behind him and he screamed as his arm was wrenched out of the socket
and a spray of blood jutted from the fractured bone protruding through his bicep.

  The men closest scrambled to get out of the way and Butler's scream morphed into a warbling gurgle as Gallagher's teeth seized his esophagus and tore through his throat. In his convulsions, Butler's finger clamped down on the trigger to his rifle and he sprayed gunfire wildly down the hall, several rounds catching Terrel in the chest and knocking him onto his back.

  Gallagher threw the dying Butler aside like a rag doll and raced headlong into the men fleeing for safety.

  "Behind me, now!" McNeely roared, watching in horror as Dr. Tanaka's head was slammed into the wall with an audible crack.

  "Two behind us," Reynolds yelled.

  McNeely yanked his head around to see Jones and Dobson casually advancing on them from a distance, his attention returned forward at Tomlinson's scream and he turned in time see the man's jaw completely torn away from his skull. His hand flashed to his radio. "Alvarez fall back to the lab, we're overrun," he yelled and stood to level his rifle. "Drop that fucker and run for the lab!" he ordered and let loose with a long automatic burst that humanely tore through the dying Dr. Garcia and plunged unnoticed into Gallagher's body.

  The men followed his example and the now dead Garcia was reduced to tatters in a hail of gunfire. Clovis leveled his shotgun and emptied it at Gallagher's knees and he fell to the floor only to be surrounded by half a dozen men who vengefully emptied their weapons into the creature, blowing it apart by inches.

  Reynolds darted past the conflict and slid to his knees next to the unmoving Terrel, cursing when dead eyes stared unseeing into his own.

  "Move!" McNeely ordered, indiscriminately shoving the remaining men back the way they had come. "Run for the lab!"

  The men took off at a dead run, all with the exception of DeSoto who calmly reloaded his rifle and took the time to empty it again into the quivering pulp that Gallagher had been reduced to.

  "DeSoto, with me now!" Reynolds yelled and the young man turned to spare a last look at Butler's corpse before running to join the fleeing men.

  McNeely again reached for his radio as they pounded down the hall. "Ring, we're coming back on the double, get on the door!" he yelled and a minute later he was caught up in the swell of bodies struggling to get inside into safety.

  The Chief and DeSoto were the last to enter and Ring pushed the door closed with the assistance of several panicked hands.

  "Wait! Is Alvarez here?" McNeely asked.

  "I'm here, seal the fucking door!" Alvarez said and Ring punched the code into the door quickly.

  A general sigh of relief encompassed the room and McNeely sidearmed his rifle across the room to take out a computer monitor. "Goddamn it!"

  Corky ran back into the room at all the commotion and looked around fearfully, not spotting the one she hoped to find and noting with sadness that there were only eleven people in the room.

  Watkins observed the lack of bodies too. "Great," he said sarcastically. "Maybe we should build a fire and sing some songs."

  "If I were you, I'd shut the fuck up," Reynolds warned.

  "I have the right to speak," he said. "The Commander's dead and we're dropping like flies. Are we just sup…"

  His words were cut off by the butt of Alvarez's rifle slamming into the side of his face and he crumpled to the ground in a silent heap.

  "Well done, Sergeant," Corky said mildly.

  --------

  Malory heard the gunfire and cursed, momentarily halting work on her preparations as she listened intently for several minutes after the last shot had been fired. Fighting against a gnawing feeling of urgency, she hurriedly went about finishing her work.

  She had painstakingly rearranged the room's three desks in front of the door to create an obstacle course, leaving only a few feet between each one. She was thankful that the infrequently used room was narrow enough to make each desk a tight fit. When Garret entered, he wouldn't be able to go around and would have to climb over each desk individually, hopefully giving her enough time to get away. As an afterthought, she had used her rifle to knock the casters off the legs on one side of each desk. Her plan would fail if the creature simply shoved each desk together and crushed her at the far end of the room. With the casters removed, this would make that possibility much more difficult, since each one now leaned into the floor at an angle.

  Feeling as if she were ready, she checked the magazine of her pistol and chambered a round. Leaving the handgun on the last desk, she slung her rifle and slowly began negotiating the furniture on her way to the door.

  She had no doubt Garret was still on the other side; the sound of his fists pounding relentlessly on the door had proven to be a constant source of anxiety and irritation. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she leaned over the last desk to enter the code that would unseal the door. As her finger depressed the last key she scrambled madly back to the rear of the room, leapfrogging the desks as quickly as she was able. She retrieved her pistol as her feet hit the floor behind the last one and waited anxiously for the door to open.

  The pounding ceased when the entry light turned green and Garret wasted no time in throwing the door open violently, lunging into the room with an insane glee. His waist slammed into the first desk and Malory took careful aim, letting a round go as he rebounded slightly from his collision. The bullet entered his eye and snapped his head back violently, a red splatter flying into the air behind him. Undeterred, he bowled forward determinedly, the desk scraping loudly as the casterless legs dug into the floor. Her second shot missed its target and struck him in the bridge of his nose, managing to remove a good portion of his brainpan with an impressive patch of hair still attached. Garret rammed the first desk into the next and his momentum came to a jerking halt as he encountered the second obstacle. The .45 roared again and his vision was extinguished in a red mist.

  Malory grunted in satisfaction as he began to flail around blindly and holstered her pistol. Garret's movements became frenzied and he lost his bearings, spinning around in a circle and lashing out in a desperate attempt to capture his quarry.

  She brought the rifle up and kneeled to steady it against the top of the desk, taking deliberate aim. The bullets were fired one at a time, each one slamming into Garret's right hip. When the rifle locked open, she inserted another magazine and continued firing upon her target until his ruined hip could no longer support the weight of his body. She stood to insert a fresh magazine when he fell and cautiously moved forward, clearly aware of the still thrashing body. With a deep breath of preparation, she hopped onto the two smashed together desks and ran into a short leap that brought her clear of Garret's body and into the open doorway. In relative safety, she again raised the rifle and fired several automatic bursts into his good leg until the calf hung from flimsy strips of tissue. Satisfied, she reloaded her rifle and spared a spiteful smile at the writhing body.

  "I'll be back in a little while to crispy critter your ass," she said. "Make yourself at home."

  She pulled the door closed, entering the code to seal it and turning to make her way carefully down the steps. When she reached the bottom, she hurried under the staircase to retrieve her radio, pausing when she found a hacksaw lying next to it. Her eyes rose to examine the step that had collapsed under her weight and they narrowed thoughtfully; it had been sawed through to a fraction, one side of which now hung perilously from a small strand of twisted metal.

  "Devious little fucker," she mumbled and reached to pick up her radio. "McNeely."

  Agitated when she received no immediate response, she was about to call again when she noticed the power light was off. She clicked it on and off and then irritably tossed it into the snow, realizing it had been on when she lost it and the battery had run dry. Resolutely, she rose to her full height and twisted her head around until the vertebrae in her neck cracked.

  "Here comes trouble," she said nefariously and began her trek down the hall.

  --------

  In the
lab, the sound of gunfire brought sagging heads up all around the room.

  "That was a handgun," Alvarez said, coming to his feet.

  Several of the men joined him and all listened intently as slow, repeated reports of rifle fire echoed through the complex.

  Corky smiled joyfully. "It's Malory."

  McNeely snatched his radio. "Commander?"

  No reply but an answering hail of automatic fire that quickly ended.

  "Commander?" he asked again, waiting several long seconds for a response. He was about to speak again when a figure in the hall suddenly stepped into the foyer.

  He lowered the radio slowly as Percy walked to within arm's reach of the door. An expectant silence encompassed the room as all attention focused on the brutally disfigured man.

  "He's been shot up," Clovis observed.

  "This is the first we've seen of him since he went missing," Reynolds said. "I bet he had a run in with the Commander."

  "Well unless they decided to start playing with guns, I would guess she got away from him," McNeely said.

  "We…" Reynolds started but ground to a halt as Percy extended a finger and depressed a number on the keypad. "Shit!"

  "Form up in the corners, move!" McNeely yelled and everyone scrambled.

  Percy hit another button, slowly picking up speed and rapidly entering a series of numbers on the keypad.

  "Oh, this is just fucking great," Watkins murmured.

  McNeely watched the entry light signal red repeatedly. "What are the odds of him hitting the right numbers?"

  "A million to one," Reynolds replied. "But he could hit the right combo any minute or not for months."

  McNeely sighed, resting his rifle across his knees and leaning back against the wall. "Looks like we ain't gonna get any sleep."

  "Let's let him in, he's alone," Alvarez said.

  McNeely considered. "I don't know. They move a hell of a lot faster now than they did at the beginning."

  "No shit," Reynolds whispered. "Gallagher was all over us, we'd lose somebody before we could put him down."

  "Leaving him outside is good," Watkins said quickly.