Maxine stood over her downed opponent.
“What the fuck was that?” Scott yelled through a clenched jaw.
“Anything goes!”
She motioned to Xavier. “Listen, this is a waste of time. Maybe get one of your devices on him and then we can have a real —.”
Scott drove into her from his position on the canvas, the contact lifting her off her feet. They landed together in a tangle of bodies.
“Always be prepared,” Xavier yelled.
Scott got up on his knees, clenched his eyes shut and punched as hard and fast as he could. He didn’t know if he was hitting her or the canvas; if he was winning or making an ass of himself.
The next thing bamboozled him. One second, he was on top, wailing on her, the next he was sitting up and she was behind him. And he couldn’t breathe. She had gotten an arm around his neck without him even realizing. Blackness developed at the edges of his vision.
“Fight, Mr.. Harris. Find the Fight!” Xavier yelled over the cheering.
He tapped her arm repeatedly. Nothing. No relief. Eyelids grew heavy.
“Come on, Mr.. Harris. It’s in there, let it out!”
More tapping. No oxygen. Blackness.
Scott gasped as he lay on his side on the canvas and slowly opened his eyes. Picture contorted. Lights swirled. Sound pivoted off the z-axis.
“Congratulations, Mr.. Harris. You are dead,” Xavier said solemnly.
“In record time, too,” Charlotte added. “Wouldn’t even have had time to finish my beer.”
“I thought you told Maxine to take it easy,” Scott garbled. He wasn’t even sure of the words he was saying.
“She was taking it easy,” Jacob answered.
“Get him up,” Xavier instructed.
Maxine and Jacob helped Scott to his feet and pushed him against the top rope. It was then that he noticed everyone was standing in the ring. Xavier approached, looking over his entire body.
“I just don’t understand,” Xavier said. “I thought for sure this would have done the trick. Surely the trauma would’ve shaken something loose that the technology missed.” He rubbed his eyes. “The app isn’t always going to be there to save you, Mr.. Harris. You need to dig deep and remember your training.”
“What do you want to do?” Maxine asked.
Xavier paced across the canvas, deep in thought, while the others watched. After careful consideration, he stopped. “We carry on as planned. Mr.. Harris here will just have to play catch up.”
“Bag’s not my problem,” Charlotte said.
“Nor me,” Jacob followed.
They looked at Maxine. She half-closed her eyes as she stared at the others and sighed. “Fine. I’ll take the newbie.” She turned to Scott. “But if you get in my way, or slow me down, or don’t do what I tell you, I’ll just put a bullet into you myself and tell everyone the other guys did it.”
Scott looked at everyone else. “That might be hard to pull off, given you’ve just told everyone.”
“Try me,” she said with venom. “Besides, I can be awfully persuasive.”
“Yeah,” Charlotte added. “Especially when she’s got a sniper rifle zeroed in between your eyes.”
Scott looked to Xavier for support but found none there.
“Just try to keep up,” Xavier said.
“I think I’ve been—.”
Alarms rang out and shredded every floor of the facility.
Scott observed everyone departing the ring and going about their routine. Obviously, they had been training for this event, and the alarms didn’t faze them as much as following a pre-defined plan of action.
Xavier pulled out his device.
“We have breaches on the surface,” he called out from the center of the boxing ring. “Damn, that was fast. Too fast.”
Another shrill alarm.
“Make that two breaches... and one through the submarine docking channel. You all know what to do and where to go.”
“And where the hell’s that?” Scott said, pulling off his gloves.
“The only way we’re getting off this damn island in one piece.”
Chapter 7
Scott trailed the group out of the gym. Charlotte took point, brandishing her MP5. An M4 was slung over her back. She had shoved various handguns into hip and leg holsters, as well as in the back of her pants. Next in line was Xavier, who paid closer attention to his screen than where he was going. Scott figured Xavier knew every inch of the facility, and he was using whatever was on his screen as a way to avoid whoever was attacking.
“Make sure you detonate everything the moment we’re on the shuttle,” Xavier commented over his shoulder.
“The ball is in play,” Jacob yelled.
Scott noticed Jacob had a heavy bag in one hand, and a small silver canister he held with the other. His thumb pressed down on the top of the device, activating the dead-man’s switch on the detonator.
“Shit, is that what I think it is?” Scott murmured.
Maxine ignored the question as she adjusted the rifle sniper that was slung across her back. “Just keep up, newbie.” She armed the M16 in her hands. “I’ll do my best to make sure you get on the shuttle in one piece. You don’t want to be here when the charges detonate.”
Scott felt out of place and entirely useless, and wondered if worse came to worst, they would drop the dead weight in order to save the rest; for the greater good. He was sure any of them would put their life on the line for Xavier, however, he was just coming to terms with what he was. Or more correctly, what Xavier thought he was. Despite everything that had happened, he still had doubts about the entire concept. Secret bases. Clandestine programs. A posse of rogue agents led by a mysterious man. It sounded like a bad Hollywood screenplay that had no chance of making it to the big screen.
The team made it to the stairwell. Charlotte, with her rifle against her shoulder, efficiently considered every available angle, before leading the group down to a lower level.
Scott patted down his pockets, in the hope of finding a device and some earplugs. Finding nothing, he tapped Maxine on the shoulder.
“Pst. Hey.”
She stopped at the top of the stairs. “I’m a little busy here,” she said as she moved her weapon in a wide arc to check their six.
“I was just thinking if I could have a gun as well.”
“If you don’t get down those stairs in the next second, I’m going to throw you over the railing.”
Scott carefully worked his way down the steps. The fact he wasn’t wearing any shoes meant he made little sound. It also meant it wasn’t the most comfortable of adventures for him.
“I’m just sayin’,” he whispered over his shoulder. “I would feel better with a gun.”
“Shut up,” she responded briskly.
On the next level, Xavier placed a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and she stopped, holding a fist in the air. She trained her weapon on the dark crevices and every open doorway. Xavier then signaled over her shoulder and she silently led the group down a gloomy passageway.
Behind them, impossible to say what level, there was a noise. Scott flinched, and he gasped. It could have been a boot on a walkway. It might have been a gun hitting the handrail. To everyone else, those were two distinct noises. To Scott, it was all a cacophony of panic. His heart was already beating at an incredible pace, and it felt like it was in his throat.
Out the other side of the passageway and into another dimly lit corridor, the team hugged the wall. Scott skipped behind Jacob, trying his best to keep up with the others. Of course, he would always have Maxine to push him forward if he started to lag too much. With Jacob being such a big unit, Scott’s only view was across an expanse of multiple walkways and doors.
Scott felt something being thrust into his hands.
“Here,” Maxine said. “Take this. Just in case.”
Scott looked at it as he padded forward.
“Be careful,” she added. “The safety’s off.”<
br />
Another sound, this one somewhere in front of the group, and Scott released an inconsiderable amount of piss into his pants. Xavier pointed down, and Charlotte took the group down the nearest set of stairs. Single file. Charlotte out in front, weapon at the ready just itching to be fired, an arsenal strapped to the rest of her body. Xavier guiding through the maze of walkways and stairs. Jacob, his finger on the dead man's switch that would destroy the facility and every living organism in it. Maxine at the rear, ensuring no one would sneak up behind them.
At the bottom of the stairs, something in Scott’s periphery stole his attention. He didn’t know what it was. It could have been nothing. He noted one of the room doors was ajar. Suddenly the room light flickered on, bright and new, casting a healthy glow over the black dentist chair. He peeled off from the conga line. He couldn’t help it. It was mesmerizing. Maxine mustn’t have noticed, because she didn’t say anything. In fact, Scott couldn’t hear anything.
Scott watched a young man, dressed in foreign military fatigues, climbing onto the chair. It was a strange feeling for Scott. He was looking at himself, he was sure of it, yet he had no recollection of the event. Doctors with white lab coats rushed around the room, checking equipment and attaching devices to the body.
“Hey,” Maxine whispered. “Get back here!”
Scott turned as he pointed to the room. “Do you see this?”
“See what?” she hushed as she walked over.
A swath of bullets broke the silence and carved the space between them, creating a series of hot flashes. Each ran in the opposite direction away from potential death. Maxine quickly retreated to the others, holding a position under cover and returning fire to an unseen enemy. She waited there and eyed Scott hastily taking off down a dark passageway.
Heavy machine-gun fire tore up the wall beside her and she backed away, weapon raised. She rued that she had to look after Scott. Regretted telling him he would be fine. Sorry that she said she’d get him on the shuttle in one piece.
When the bullets struck, Scott’s instinctive flight defense kicked in. He ran for the nearest passageway, to get as far away from the danger as possible. He stole a quick glance at the room just before he ducked his head through an opening, only to find the light had been extinguished, the room returning to obscurity.
He didn’t know where he was going, only that he had to keep moving. No idea where the shuttle was that Xavier spoke of, nor even where he was at that moment. No device he could plug in and take him away to a fantasy world. The only thing he had was the weighty pistol Maxine had thrust into his hands.
Gripping a handrail, he went down a level, then across, then up a few, and again back down. With heightened senses and brain working overtime, he had lost track where he was. Every floor looked the same, with a series of walkways and doors, dark passageways and interconnecting walkways. He kept moving, trying to outsmart his pursuers, if, in fact, they were pursuing him. But in the back of his mind, he thought about the device Jacob was carrying, along with the ominous warning from Maxine: You don’t want to be here when the charges detonate. Around each corner, he expected to meet one of the insurgents, or for one of the charges to blow. Either would mean certain death.
Holding the pistol out in front of himself he silently descended more staircases. Every noise made him spin or change direction. He was dangerously lost, his anxiety at fever pitch. At one point, he contemplated turning the gun on himself however knew he wouldn’t have the courage to pull the trigger. A thought stuck with him. If the others had made it to the shuttle, whatever that was, why they hadn’t detonated the explosives, sending the facility, and everything in it, to an irrecoverable end?
On one level, in a dark corner, among a series of unusual sounds, she heard a noise. Keeping it in focus, he backed into a dark room. Squatting on his haunches, he eased the door closed. In the purple shadows of the room, he saw another one of the dental-type chairs, felt a strange internal connection that he could only imagine what a parent felt for a child. Then he felt something else.
Something cold and hard.
Against his head.
And he stopped breathing.
Chapter 8
“I fucking told you to keep up,” Maxine whispered.
Scott let out a long sigh. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass.”
Scott could make out her approximate features in the gloom.
“Did the others make it?”
“Not sure. There are fuckers all over this place. I’d like to think they did. I’d also like to think that if they did, we’d be dead right now.”
“What the fuck are we going to do?”
“Number one on the list is not to die. Number two on the list is to get the hell out of here.”
“Is there a second shuttle we can take?”
Despite the near-zero light, he could tell she shook her head. “No,” she confirmed.
“So how the hell do we get out of here?”
“We go to the one place they won’t expect.”
“Where’s that?”
“We go up.”
“Are you serious?”
“Quietly. Without making any contact.”
It seemed as if she was. “Listen, I don’t know if I’m up for this. Maybe you should go on without me, or better yet, I could cause a distraction or something. Maybe lure a bunch somewhere while you make a getaway.”
“Don’t go playing all hero on me just yet, Scott. There’s plenty more time for that. Besides, I didn’t hang around just so I could throw you to the wolves.”
“Xavier told you to stay behind?”
“I volunteered. Xavier believes in you. So should I. He hasn’t been wrong yet.”
“Really? Given my latest performance?”
“Maybe this next one is all you need.”
Maxine edged to the door.
“Hey,” Scott whispered. “How did you make that noise happen over the other side of the walkway?”
She turned. “What noise?”
“It’s just that—.”
“Shh.”
Scott trained his hearing. Boots on walkways. Indistinct chatter. Foreign language, couldn’t tell which.
“How long before they give up and go home?”
“They don’t give up,” she replied briskly. “If they think there is something or someone here that can help them track Xavier down, then they will search for it until they find it.”
“What are our chances of making it out of this one?”
“Depends on how you look at it. Our chances are better out there than sitting here in the dark waiting for them to find us.”
“And how many levels do we need to climb?”
“Only fourteen.”
“How are we going to go up fourteen levels without being seen?”
“Trust me.”
Maxine silently secured the door behind her. They stood in a dark, narrow concrete hallway. To their right, solid steps curved up and away out of sight. To the left, the descended into an ominous inky blackness.
“I’ll need you to watch our backs,” Maxine said. “Just watch your footing. I don’t want to have to carry you out of here as well.”
She thrust her rifle into her shoulder, adjusted the angle, and started marching up the stairs. Scott followed, the handgun wavering behind them in the darkness.
“Where are we?”
“This is the outer shell. Both walls are four-foot-thick concrete and steel, which should muffle any noise we make.”
The thought that the ocean was just beyond the outer wall made Scott feel queasy.
“And because it curves around the exterior,” Maxine continued, “it’s not the most direct route. But if you want to avoid the pain of a firefight, you’ve got to take the long way round. Provided we don’t run into anyone, or if they don’t know about it, this should be a fairly easy trip topside.”
The journey was long and
arduous. They slowed just before every platform and remained out of sight around the curve and checked for any noise or movement. Scott’s legs burned, and he sat on a stair and look down the stairs below them. Shadows moved within shadows, and he convinced himself his mind was playing tricks on him. A mixture of exhaustion and imagination was taking its toll on his body and mind.
“How much longer is there to go?” Scott asked.
“Do you want that answer in levels, distance or time?” she fired back.
“I’ll take anything at this stage.”
“The answers are four, a couple of kilometers, and fucked if I know. In that order. I trust that’s sufficient.”
Scott nodded, and the pair resumed their journey in silence, save for the padding of boots and feet on concrete, and the occasional whispered groan.
They stopped on the last platform. There were no more stairs, although a different realization had hit Scott. They were at the surface, which meant they were close to getting off the iceberg and away from the danger.
“How’re the legs?” Maxine asked.
“Completely fucked. Why?”
“Because when we go through that door, there is no going back. And the nearest transport could be at the other end of the strip. Which means we may need to double-time it.”
Scott knew what that meant. His legs felt like jelly, but he knew what adrenalin could do for the body. He’d heard all the stories about people lifting cars off babies and all that shit. Figured sprinting across a tarmac was the same thing. How he wished for a device at that moment, something to help him get through it.
“Whatever happens to me out there,” Maxine said. “Promise me you’ll just keep going.”
“How the hell am I supposed to promise that. I’m not you.”
“No,” she responded. “You’re you. So, anytime you want, feel free to kick in those damn combat skills.”
She eased the metal handle down, and the door unsealed with a whispered gasp. A shaft of light flooded them, and they had to back away until their eyes adjusted. Once Maxine had corrected her vision, she took in the task at hand. Looking over her shoulder, Scott noted they were in one of the sheds at the northern end of the runway he noted when he arrived. Beyond the large, open double doors, he saw their ride to freedom. Some breed of vertical take-off aircraft. The dark green body was squat, like a helicopter, yet had wings. At either tip, large rotors pointed to the sky. It was absent of any markings.
Reality Page 4
