C15 Chapter Fifteen
The rest of the team found nothing of further interest within the kitchen area and so it was time to move on. There was a bank of elevators on the far side of the room just past the freezer, but having already determined that they would stay away from them as a matter of course, Cade ordered the team to regroup with Davis and Callavechio at the first staircase and resume their journey upward.
Flynn had point, with Duncan as back up, and he had just turned to begin the climb upward when something caught his attention.
Above them, something moved in the dim light.
He’d only caught it out of the corner of his eye and so he waited a moment, watching, wanting to be sure.
There! High above him a human-shaped figure was leaning over the railing, watching them. It was just a darker shadow against the general blackness above, but it was clearly human.
Flynn turned to face Duncan and stepped close, as if he were intending to hand him something. Using his body to shield what he was doing, he held his right hand in front of his chest and jerked a thumb upward, indicating that there was something on the staircase above.
“How far?” Duncan mouthed.
“Two flights, maybe three,” Flynn mouthed back.
The other man nodded, knowing without needing to ask that there was only one choice in front of them.
They needed to catch whoever it was.
Duncan flashed a series of hand signals to the man behind him, spreading the word, and then turned back to face his partner.
Flynn held up one finger, then two. On three, he shouted “Contact!” into the radio and turned to charge up the stairwell, Duncan following close on his heels. Between their footfalls Flynn could hear the slap of bare feet on concrete above them as whatever it was took flight.
“It’s moving,” he said into the radio and then redoubled his efforts, not wanting it to escape. Behind him, he could hear the rest of Echo Team following as Cade calmly sent orders across the tactical link, getting them into position to best support each other in case things escalated into a firefight.
Flynn felt every step pass beneath his feet, his senses hyperaware as adrenaline kicked in and his body went into combat mode. His heart pounded and he could hear his own breathing echoing in his ears. His hands gripped his MP5 firmly, ready to bring it to bear on the first target that presented itself if it came to that.
His boots hit the first landing and he turned the corner without slowing, heading up the opposite flight. Glancing upward, he saw with dismay that not only had they not closed any of the distance between them, but that their target had actually increased the gap and was now almost at the entrance to the level above.
There was no doubt in his mind.
Nothing human moved that fast.
“We’re losing it!” he shouted to Duncan and put everything he had into climbing those stairs, pulling away from his companion in an effort to shrink their quarry’s lead on them.
Two flights.
Three.
As he hit the final turn he could see that the landing above was blocked by a pile of debris, like the one they’d encountered in the south staircase, except this time there was an opening in the barrier. As he watched, whatever it was they were chasing slipped through that hole and disappeared into the darkness beyond.
There was no way he was going to follow without knowing more about what was on the other side of that hole.
The chase had come to an end; they’d lost.
When the rest of the team arrived, Flynn explained what had happened.
“You made the right choice,” said Cade, and although he knew that the Knight Commander was correct, it still bothered Flynn that their prey had gotten away.
“What now?” Chen asked, eyeing the barricade before them.
It was similar to what they had encountered on the south staircase, a jumbled pile of whatever furniture and equipment seemed to be at hand. Unlike the last one, however, this one appeared to have been designed to prevent access to the third level and seemed to have spilled out into the staircase. It would have been an easy enough task to climb the outer edge and continue upward on the stairs had they wanted to do so. Their quarry had gone through the hole before them and standard operating procedure said that you never left an enemy at your back, particularly one you knew next to nothing about, if you could help it. Cade was going to order them through the barricade; Flynn just knew it.
“I don’t like the idea of that thing running around in the darkness behind us. It went through that hole for a reason and right now I’m a bit tired of constantly being in the dark about what’s going on,” said Cade, confirming Flynn’s hunch. “It’s time to step things up. We’re going in after it.”
Cade would go first, with Riley playing rear guard. Once they were all through the barrier they would form up into their respective squads, ready for whatever might be waiting for them on the other side.
Squatting down, Cade carefully examined the opening in front of him. It looked like something had burrowed its way through the pile of debris; the opening was roughly circular and the tunnel beyond maintained its shape and size for at least several feet. He could see a faint sheen of light coming from the other side, so he knew the tunnel wasn’t very long. It was easily wide enough to admit a man and Cade knew he could get through it without much difficulty, though he didn’t like the idea that he’d have several hundred pounds of debris hanging over his head while he made the trek. A thick, cloying stench hung about the entire barricade, a stench Cade recognized, and he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant on the other side.
No sense worrying about what couldn’t be helped.
“Ready?” Cade asked and Riley nodded. Taking a deep breath, Cade entered the tunnel.
Five minutes later he radioed to his executive officer that he was clear and Riley nodded to Flynn, indicating that it was his turn.
One by one the rest of the team slipped through the hole in the barricade and emerged into the mouth of hell.
What they saw there made them all but forget the shadowy form they had been following, which perhaps had been its very intention.
Once a cafeteria, the room beyond was now an abattoir, with blood and limbs and bodies scattered throughout like so much discarded trash. Several of the dead lay fallen against the interior side of the barricade itself, their positions making it obvious that they had died in defense of the breach. The members of Echo were forced to clamber over them to get inside the room, an experience none of them wanted to repeat.
The place stank of decomposition. The bodies were grotesquely swollen, so much so that it was often hard to tell if the victims were male or female, their facial and body features bulging and indistinguishable from corpse to corpse. All of them were dressed in the same blue jumpsuits found on the first body, complete with the Eden patch, confirming Cade’s earlier guess that it was the standard uniform for those involved in the project.
The team moved cautiously into the room, knowing in the back of their minds that they’d been led to this place intentionally. It was immediately obvious that the room’s previous inhabitants never stood a chance against whatever it was they’d made a stand against. Many of them had weapons in hand or lying nearby, but the vast majority of those were nothing more dangerous than sharpened kitchen knives and the occasional utility hatchet. There were only two handguns amongst them all and one of those was a snub-nosed revolver that looked like it had seen its better days thirty years before.
Clearly the weapons had done them little good, yet they had stood their ground and faced whatever it was rather than retreat to some other section of the complex. That suggested to Flynn that they’d known they hadn’t had any choice; fight now or fight later, it didn’t make much difference. Like the man they’d found frozen in the freezer, this group had been just as resigned to their fate apparently, though they had at least chosen to go down fighting.
Why hadn’t they called for help? Flynn wondered. Why hadn’t they abandoned the base and made a run for it across the desert?
It would have been difficult, but certainly not impossible. Vargas made it. It just didn’t make any sense that they would have chosen to face off against an obviously superior foe.
His musings were interrupted by a call from Ortega, who found something of interest on the other side of the room. Flynn walked over and as he drew close he could see that it was a man’s body, spread-eagle on a table. Unlike the rest of the bodies in the room, this one had been methodically dissected rather than torn haphazardly limb from limb. The man’s chest had been split down the middle and then carefully opened up. His internal organs had been removed; they were all now neatly arranged at the man’s feet, as if briefly studied and then put to one side for later consideration.
“Why would someone do this?” Ortega asked, and in his voice Flynn could hear the hours of tension beginning to take their toll. Death was one thing; being dissected afterwards was entirely another.
Flynn could understand how he felt. First the odd tableau in the subway car and now this; both events seemed to be designed for maximum shock value, as if their architect was trying to keep them off balance and uneasy rather than focused on their investigation.
They gave the room a thorough search, including the bodies of the dead. Afterward all they had to show for it were a few magnetic pass cards, like those used as hotel room keys. None of them were marked and there was no way of knowing what they were for, but Flynn figured it couldn’t hurt to take them along in case the team could find a use for them later.
Riley passed through the room with his digital camera, taking pictures of the dead in case they could use recognition software later to reconstruct what they had looked like, and once he was finished Cade led the group away from the carnage in the cafeteria to the rear doors on the far side of the room.
Flynn breathed a sigh of relief as he passed into the hallway beyond, happy to be away from the dead and the atmosphere surrounding them.
The corridor was bisected by three others, each of which had a series of rooms on both sides of the hall. Echo searched them one by one, conscious that their enemy had passed this way before them and might be waiting in ambush anywhere up ahead.
The rooms were nothing more than a small living area with a desk, nightstand and a bed. A small television hung from a wall stand in the corner of each. Photos hung in a few of the rooms, but every single one of them was a landscape shot, none were of family or loved ones. More than a few of the rooms had plaques quoting Bible verses hung on the walls and one even had a prie dieu in the corner. Small closets set next to the bed seemed to be the only storage areas available and from the cut of the various blue jumpsuits that had been left behind inside them, the rooms seemed about evenly divided between male and female occupants.
Simple and plainly decorated, the rooms could have been straight out your typical college dorm just before the incoming class took up residence.
Yet there was something about them that bothered Flynn and it took him a bit before he figured out what it was.
There wasn’t a single computer or telephone in sight.
He brought it to Cade’s attention. “There’s no way for these people to reach anyone on the outside. No computer means no email. No telephone means no personal calls, no way of staying in touch with anyone. Who lives like that?”
Cade thought about it for a minute. “It’s really not that uncommon, is it? I know of plenty of high tech companies who wouldn’t bat an eye at such restrictions. Keeping outside communications to a minimum greatly reduces the possibility of that someone might be tempted to walk off with a couple million dollars worth of intellectual property.”
“Yeah, but have you seen anything that would give you the idea that these people were involved in cutting edge industrial research? So far all we’ve got is a missing preacher who took his most devoted followers into the desert and hid them away in an abandoned military base for heaven knows what reason.”
Cade reminded him that they’d probably only seen the tip of the iceberg at this point and Flynn couldn’t argue with that, but he was still unsettled. He had this mental image of a bunch of monks hiding in the wastelands while their clearly whacked-out leader tries to draw down the apocalypse. He didn’t like fanatics, religious or otherwise, and everything here seemed to scream that to him, from the setting to the inhabitants’ decision not to abandon the place when things clearly went to hell.
There was a lot here that wasn’t making sense.
But one thing was certain.
This place was starting to get to him.
