“Very well. Perhaps it is time to gather your friend.”
“Tracy? Yeah, I'll go get her.”
The three of them went back at the problem with a new fervor. We still had time. We could still potentially save Castillo. I put all of my hope into them. Maybe something new would happen. A new idea. Anything.
I took the stairs to the third floor, and wound through the passages to the chapel. When I opened the door, Tracy was sitting in the same spot, reading a book again.
“Tracy?”
“Yes, Dante?” she replied without looking.
“It's time.”
“Very well,” she said. She closed her book with a snap and stood. Something about her movements was off. My eyes watered for a moment, causing me to blink. Then everything seemed normal again. I shook my head, but everything was already clear.
“Lead on, Dante.”
The words echoed, reminding me of the first descent to the store in the office tower. I nodded and led her to the stairwell. She said nothing, though I was certain she would have normally. Perhaps all the time without power in the office had changed her expectations. At one point, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise, but when I turned around, Tracy was simply watching where she placed her feet. We arrived at the lobby for R&D, and Ms. Ita was behind the desk again.
“Ms. Ita, we have a guest for One-Delta.”
She nodded, sparing a small smile for me. She dug a form out and placed it on the counter.
“Please fill this out, and I'll call an escort for her.”
“Can't I be the escort?”
“I'm afraid not, Mr. DeWisr. Policy.”
I checked over the form and briskly filled it out while Ms. Ita used her phone. A moment later, the door nearby opened. Bazua poked his head out.
“Let's go,” he said.
I double-checked the form before handing it over. Tracy followed Bazua through the door, and I trailed behind. When we got to the lab, Bazua stepped in with us. I shot him a questioning look, but his return gaze was even. Until he realized that he was looking up at me. We had been eye to eye when I started in the lab.
“You been growing or something?”
“Been eating my Wheaties.” He just chuffed and sat near the door. Tracy was standing by herself, looking around at the landslide of technical equipment and scientific instruments. I stood next to her, feeling slightly uneasy.
“Doctors, this is Tracy.”
They broke off their conversation and looked over at us. I pointed to each in turn as I introduced them to her.
“The gentleman with the hair is Doctor Allan Doore. He's our lead. Next to him is Doctor Denny, and on the other side of Allan is Doctor Karen.”
They all nodded and muttered greetings. I grabbed a chair and led Tracy over to the hallway.
“Castillo is in here. You will have to read to him through the wall, we want everyone to be safe.”
She nodded, then stood to the side of Castillo's cell as I placed the chair for her. She sat down and opened the book she had with her. It was a worn, old bible. I gave it a closer look, and guessed it could have been as much as a hundred years old.
“Nice bible.”
“Thank you. It is a family heirloom. I suppose it won't be when I pass though.”
My tongue stuck in my mouth. There wasn't anything I could say to her. Instead, I nodded and left the hallway. While I had been gone, Denny had set up a monitoring station. One screen had multiple angles of Castillo. Some shots showed part of Tracy as she started to read. Her voice was quiet, only catching the mics nearby when she stressed words. The other screen showed his vitals as they were reported by the machines hooked up to him.
His fever had leveled off at a hundred four, but his heart rate had dropped below seventy beats per minute. He rarely twitched anymore. Tracy read through the afternoon, declining dinner when we broke in shifts to go eat. I stopped by the suite to talk to Linda, but she wasn't home yet. I left a quickly scrawled note explaining I wouldn't be home until after Castillo passed. I assumed everybody else was doing the same with their families, if they had one.
When I returned to the lab, even Bazua was sitting near the monitoring station. He explained he had to stay near Tracy, because he was her official escort. Denny produced a pack of cards and we played poker to pass the time. Night hours came around, and we drew straws to determine shifts. Denny was first up, with myself second. Doctor Doore was asked to abstain, and to sleep through the night if he could. Bazua took his place, going third. Karen was the final two hour shift, after which we figured we would all be up anyway.
At 2200, I reclined in my chair, and let the lights drift over me. I watched the lights, noting their erratic movements. I was used to clouds with specks of colored light, but that night they were more like a vortex, swirling violently overhead. Purples, reds, and blacks were infused in the normally docile clouds. It looked vaguely threatening. When I opened my eyes, the lab was darkened, and everything appeared to be peaceful.
I closed my eyes again and tried to ignore the lights. They continued to swirl, but I gave it as little concern as I could. I developed a migraine over the two hours, possibly due to the occasional static that the TV emitted. I hadn't had much pain of any kind since I had started changing. I filed it away with all of the other strange effects I had dealt with in the previous two weeks.
Denny tapped my shoulder at midnight. I woke immediately, and relieved him of his watch. My shift was quiet, punctuated only by occasional pulses from my migraine. The two hours passed like treacle. At 0200, I tapped on Bazua's shoulder. He snapped awake in an instant. With a nod, he took over.
I closed my eyes and once more observed the lights. The vortex was larger now, with red lightning flashing along the whole of the cloud. My stomach sank as I watched the lights violently churn. At 0300 by my mental clock, a gold tinge appeared near the center of the vortex. It rapidly spread across the clouds, infected with a sickening black lightning. Within thirty seconds, the whole vortex glowed to my inner sight.
Then the monitoring station went absolutely haywire.
Chapter 14
Darkness +33, 2033
Greater Seattle Area, Washington, USA
Location Undisclosed, Base 13, Project Osiris
-65°F
0301 Hours
My eyes snapped open. Bazua was at the station already, trying to determine the cause of the sound. Karen arrived at the same time as Denny, with Allan just a moment behind. We watched as Castillo's vitals spike wildly. His heartrate shot up to 180. I ran to the hallway while the rest observed the changing vitals.
“Be careful, something is wrong,” Bazua called after me. I heard him unsling his rifle and check it over. I slid to a stop at the hallway door. Tracy had her back to me, still bowed over her book. I could see her mouth moving in partial profile. Out of nowhere, my head began to pound. My ears filled with hissing, like static through a surround sound system turned up to eleven.
I staggered, blinking. A crash sounded from Castillo's cell, and I watched as he ripped his restraints apart. He began to swell, visibly changing and growing. His normally light black skin had become a sickly gray over the previous days, but now looked as gray as a corpse. He roared, shaking the hallway with the sheer volume he produced.
“Tracy, what the fuck is going on?” I shouted over the noise. Castillo started thrashing about in his cell, destroying everything he touched. She ignored me, instead hissing and rocking madly in place. A red aura glowed just outside of my normal perception. She looked malevolent, as her hair began to lift of its own accord. The lights in the hallway began to flicker.
“DeWisr, get out of there!” Bazua stood at the entrance to the hallway, hand over the emergency button.
“Close it! I'll be fine!” I shouted back. He hesitated for a moment, then slammed the button home. Amber lamps along the ceiling began to strobe, another siren adding to the deafening noise. The vault door immediately closed. Castillo flew into a fresh rage, slamm
ing his enormous hands against the glass wall. Webs of cracks formed as he assaulted the barrier with everything he had.
His gown went beyond skin-tight and started to shred as he continued to grow. He was over seven feet tall as I watched in amazement. Strange black whorls were covering his chest. I had never seen tattoos on him, so I chalked them up to some other crazy side effect of whatever was going on with him.
One last slam caused the wall to explode, throwing shards of glass everywhere. I held my arms over my face to shield myself, feeling dozens of cuts form from flying debris. When I put my arms back down, I was shocked to see Tracy, still in one piece, hissing and writhing in place. She was less than an arm length from Castillo.
Everything seemed to fall silent as he tenderly reached out, placing a hand on the back of her head. She stopped moving, stopped emitting the horrible sound. My head immediately cleared, and I realized just how deep in the shit I was. Then, with one smooth movement, Castillo picked Tracy up by her head, grabbed a leg with his other hand, and tore her in half. She never made a sound as he turned her into gravy, throwing the two halves at the nearest wall. The resultant pile of gore was not even recognizable as human remains.
I felt my breath hitch. My stomach heaved. He had gone from my friend, to this monster in just minutes. I watched as gas flooded the hallway and cells. Neither of us were troubled by it. I wasn't sure what that meant for either of us.
“CASTILLO!” I screamed in rage and sorrow. He turned toward me as I lunged at him. He snarled, but it was caught short as he took my shoulder to his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. He slammed into the wall, splattering the gore that had been Tracy around. He looked back at me, and I realized with a start that we were nearly eye-level. I had also grown in the few minutes.
He roared in pure animalistic rage, then launched himself at me. I blocked his wild blows, realizing that each of his attacks should have been killing me, but feeling no worse than sparring practice. I thought back to my training, first with my Dad, then later in the military. I started ducking, weaving, avoiding everything he threw. Then I started to attack back. My blows landed hard, causing bones to snap and black blood to fly.
Castillo became even more frenzied, like he drew on the combat to power himself. The gas swirled around us, already dissipating. I dodged another attack, and hoped the monster that had been Castillo would follow. He did, and we were trading blows in the middle of the hallway. I reared back, and put everything I had into a punch that landed square on his chest. Castillo's constant roaring came to an abrupt stop as he flew backwards, shattering concrete. He slumped, held up by the crater he was suspended in. He had flown more than twenty feet from my punch. I looked at my fist, expecting steam to rise off of it. Instead, only black and red blood stood out on my lacerated knuckles.
A buzz sounded, and I turned to find soldiers at the door, gas masks on. Bazua was front and center, screaming at me to put my hands up. I tried to wave him off, but he turned his rifle on me.
“Wait⸺” I tried to shout, but the movement had spooked him. He fired once, hitting me in the chest. It felt like I was kicked by a donkey, my ribs cracking and my breath knocked out of me. I fell backwards, clutching at my chest. I rolled to my side, trying to escape the pain. Even as I tried to catch my breath, I heard a horrible sound. Concrete cracked, as Castillo regained consciousness.
He roared again, and the soldiers opened fire. The guns were deafening in the hallway, but still couldn't cover the sound of the monster's fists slamming into the concrete. He popped free and landed on his feet. I watched in amazement as he shrugged off dozens of bullets tearing through him. He stood over eight feet tall, his head nearly touching the ceiling from my vantage point on the floor. Black blood sprayed the walls from his wounds, aerosolizing and forming clouds that hung behind him.
He roared a challenge at the men firing at him as they all ran dry. I tried to do anything to stand, but the pain was too great. I looked down to find a neat hole in my chest, right over the heart. I marveled that I was still alive. Even as I watched, the hole was closing up. Then a click sounded from the doorway, and I watched as Bazua started to fire again. He aimed up, at the monster's head. It was an easy enough shot, less than ten meters, on a target the size of a beach ball.
The monster's head exploded as it was pounded by rifle rounds, sending chunks of flesh, hair, and gray matter all over. It stopped moving, rocking in place for a moment. Then it fell to its knees, causing cracks to form in the concrete. It toppled forward, sending shockwaves through the air. The hallway fell silent.
I could hear the harsh breathing of the soldiers through their gas masks. I realized I only had moments. I scrabbled in the debris that was everywhere, thankful for the concrete dust that still hung in the air providing some cover. I found a large shard of glass, more than four inches long and an inch wide at the base. I jammed it into my chest, gasping at the fresh wave of pain. It fit into the closing hole perfectly, and blood shot out to cover my hand again.
I continued to lay in the fetal position, trying not to scream in pain. I felt a boot kick me in my kidney, causing me to grunt. I spasmed, no longer able to contain the pain. I screamed, long and loud. I was turned on my back by a hand on my shoulder. I could see Bazua nearby, gun pointed at my head. Another soldier knocked the gun away, screaming something. My head was swimming. The soldier checking me over moved my hand and saw the shard of glass protruding from my chest. I watched Bazua as his eyes found the shard, growing wide with realization. His rifle dropped away.
“Medic!”
I wasn't sure who yelled it. It could have been Bazua, or it could have been the guy checking me over. His name tag read 'FRANKS'. Some time passed, though I wasn't sure how much. I was in and out of consciousness. Two soldiers rolled me on my side, and I heard metal hit the floor. Then I was rolled onto my back again. I realized the problem this would present as two soldiers attempted to lift me.
My legs and arms overhung the stretcher, and they grunted with effort.
“What the fuck, how much does this guy weigh?” Someone grunted.
Two more jumped in, and the four of them managed to lift me. The legs of the bed locked in place, and wheels began to rattle. I blacked out then, no longer able to bear the pain.
I came to in the hospital. I wasn't sure how they had managed to get me up two floors, since I was certain the passenger elevators were not rated for my weight. The lobby was in chaos, soldiers everywhere. I heard Linda shouting at someone.
“Lin?” I said, finding surprising strength in my voice.
“There? See! He's my husband! Get the fuck out of my way so I can check him over!”
I heard a scuffle, then her face came into view. She looked at the large shard of glass protruding from my chest. It was more exposed than it had been in the hallway below. My pain was reduced as well. She immediately started calling for supplies as she tried to push my stretcher. It didn't budge, and she ordered a few soldiers to push for her. They obliged, following her into a room in the emergency section. She ordered them out and closed the curtains for privacy.
Then she looked at my chest again. The glass had moved further. It would be pushed out in just minutes. I sat partially up, feeling strength flood me again. She handed me a pile of gauze, and I ripped the glass out of my chest. In the same motion I placed the gauze over the new hole, holding it in place to catch any blood. I held the gauze in place while Linda cut my shirt off, carefully destroying the neat little bullet hole in the process. She looked at me, questions in her eyes. I shook my head, discouraging her from talking. We couldn't deal with hostile soldiers at the moment.
When she was done with my shirt, she took a last glance at my chest before she taped the used gauze in place. Her eyes bugged, and I guessed it was because the hole was already closed. The bloody gauze made it look like I was still bleeding. Just as the final piece of tape was put in place, Bazua burst through the curtain.
Linda calmly turned to soldier,
coldly staring him down.
“Sergeant Bazua, my husband has been injured. Do you have any reason to be here?”
“I shot you. I fucking shot you, right in the heart. I know I did. How are you alive?” He growled. It was low, barely audible over the chaos outside my little 'room'. He was in an aggressive stance, hand on pistol. His rifle was conspicuously missing.
Linda picked up the glass shard and showed it to Bazua.
“My husband wasn't shot, he was hit by this glass shard. You must have missed. He's lucky he's not more seriously injured. It missed his heart and lungs, instead only punching a hole in the flesh. He's going to be sore for days, but luckily didn't even need stitches.”
“Yeah, and how is he breathing with a hole the size of that in his chest?”
“I packed the hole with foam. It'll be integrated by his body during the healing process, greatly decreasing recovery time. This base has some truly wonderful technology. Too bad we didn't have it out in the wider world, but that's a moot point as well.” She continued to talk in an even tone. He eased a little.
“I don't miss. Especially at that range. I know I shot you. You're bigger too, just like Castillo⸺” He stopped himself. Linda perked up.
“What happened with Castillo?”
“Classified.” Bazua said with cold efficiency. His tone brooked no argument. Except I was not going to have any of that.
“Fuck you, Bazua. She's my wife. I'm going to tell her. What's she going to do with the information, sell it to the fucking Chinese? They're dead, like everybody else.”
He focused on me again, noting my apparent health. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his hand squeezed the handle of his pistol.
“You're one of them, aren't you?” He said it like a slur, hatred dripping from his words.
“Them? You mean the infected? No, I've been tested three times. Do another blood draw, you'll see that I'm still not infected.”
“How have you grown then? Why do you weigh so much?”
“Good eating. The food here is really something else, and I'm sure you've put on a few pounds yourself, champ.” I was acting flippant, trying to take him out of his comfort zone, put him in unexpected areas.
Darkness Trilogy (Book 2): Death In Darkness Page 9
