The Red Phoenix 12: Strength Comes in Numbers (28 page)

“Gough?” a guard said in a loud voice.

“Get in the van, Gough!” another guard cried.

Gough lit up a cigarette quietly and turned to the van.

“What the hell is the matter with you, Corporal? Get your ass in the van!” a third guard bellowed.

“Don’t you get it, boys?” Gough asked calmly, exhaling as the tremendous wave drew closer becoming louder in the background. “We’re already dead.”

All the guards screamed as the powerful, hurricane-like winds of the wave came upon them, lifting the van off the asphalt, smashing it into pieces, and tearing the twelve foot chain link fence from its posts. The guards’ post blew apart as pieces of wooden beams, stairs, and roofing were carried away in the mighty upsurge that sped across the open, empty terrain of desiccated trees, dried grass, and weeds.

***

On level minus eighty, in the lab, Chris and his battalion looked across the trembling ceiling as the walls shook like there was a small earthquake. The ceiling lights flickered on and off until they shut down, activating the emergency lighting to come on. A paper tray on Chris’ desk moved across his desktop from the vibrations and fell over the edge, spilling papers on the floor. 

“Oh my God,” said Chris, looking across the ceiling.

“What is it, Chris?” asked Kirk.

“Siddoway’s nuke set off another explosion,” Chris answered. “The tremors came all the way down here. That’s not good.”

“What do want us to do, Chris?” asked Kerry.

“Kirk, you come with me,” Chris answered, taking an AR-15 and Mp5 machine gun from an A.I. then holstering a pistol and knife.

“If what you say is true, it will be dangerous up there, Chris,” stated Kerry. “Take this,” she added, tossing him a gas mask.

“We’re going to scout the upper levels and see if there is a safe way out of here,” Chris replied. “There could be piled up wreckage, rubble or radiation as far as we know. Kerry?”

“Yes.”

“Stay here with the others and guard the door,” Chris stated. “Don’t let anyone in, okay?”

“You bet,” she answered. “Be careful up there.”

Chris and Kirk One dashed out of the lab.

***

As the wave rolled on increasing its radius by the second, a green mist billowed in the wake of its destructive path in a smoky-foggy, cloudy mist over the destroyed Red Phoenix’s campus and the surrounding desert, forming a thick layer of green vapor that moved like a low set blanket of murky greenish clouds for miles in every direction. The green mist drifted over the desert terrain, seeping deeply into the dried grass, dilapidated trees and weeds and into the soil, causing the dried grass to transform into ten foot tall, branchy plants with razor sharp thorns protruding from the sides and dark, vicious, spiky, teeth-like pods at the tips. The weeds and slumped-over trees changed into thirty foot tall tree trunks, crossing each other, forming a deathly, treacherous forest, peaking through the green vaporous cloud that covered the entire area for miles. The new forest continued to grow and spread until the mountain of destroyed buildings was covered in thick, thorny branches, reaching over thirty feet high.

The thick, green, foggy vapors rolled through the thirty foot high piles of the devastated main building then seeped into the ventilation system and elevator shafts, percolating several levels beneath the surface.

***

In the office area on level minus five, Number Twelve noticed the vapors coming through the ventilation covers on the ceiling, while Hauser and Sanders discussed an escape plan.

“Dr. Sanders?” asked Twelve.

Sanders didn’t answer as he was still trying to devise a way for them to get out of there.

“Dr. Sanders, sir?” Twelve asked again, more firmly.

“What is it?” Sanders answered, impatient.

“Look, there appears to be some kind of green-colored gas coming into the room,” Twelve replied, pointing at the ceiling.

Sanders, Hauser and Steiner stood up as the green mist filled the room, landing on the desk cubicles, tables, chairs and the floor.

“What the hell is this stuff?” asked Hauser, worried, waving his palm through the green mist.

“Are these vapors toxic?” Steiner asked, sounding scared, covering his mouth with his hand.

“I don’t know, but it’s odorless and tasteless,” Sanders answered, opening the door quickly, noticing the green mist had filled the corridor, making it difficult to see the far end. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

“The nuke definitely went off,” said Hauser. “The walls shook like there was an earthquake.”

“That means there is radiation up there,” Steiner added, coughing gently on the green vapors.

“The safest thing is to get back to the lower levels of the facil—

Sanders fell to his hands and knees then to his back as his body went into convulsions, appearing to be choking.

“Sanders? What’s wrong with you?” asked Hauser, frightened.

Sanders’ clothes tore off his body as he transformed into an eight-foot tall, bulky, bald-headed creature with sharp teeth and claws that resembled Dunn in the N.A.S.A. incident.

The Sanders creature stood, turning to Hauser and Steiner, roaring at them. They screamed for their lives but the creature slashed Hauser across the face, sending him spinning through the air against the wall of the corridor, killing him instantly. It grabbed Steiner by his scalp, pulled him close and bit him on his shoulder, causing him to scream as it threw him to the floor.

Steiner’s screaming stopped as his head began to morph into a creature, becoming bald and three times his normal size. His eyes became skinned over then formed on the sides of his scalp. His shoulders widened as muscles bulked around his neck, chest, back, arms and upper thighs, tearing his clothes off his body.

The two creatures turned to Twelve, growling, snarling their sharp teeth as he stood against the wall of the corridor, staring at them. Twelve sprinted down the corridor. The creatures roared, chasing him and very soon gaining on him. Twelve turned a corner, breathing heavily as the creatures were still on his tail, slashing their mighty claws at him, just missing him.

Twelve ran along the guardrail of the corridor, noticing the forty foot drop to the lobby of level minus nine. He jumped over the railing, falling and falling past the levels to the lobby below, splashing in a pond and waterfall display in the middle of the lobby. The creatures landed near the waterfall display, cracking the floor beneath their feet.

Twelve rushed out of the water, stomping his way across the pond, causing the koi fish to swim out of his way as the creatures ran after him. He turned another corner but one of the creatures swung its claws, knocking him to the floor of the corridor. Twelve turned over, putting his hands up to defend himself, panting. The creatures stood over him, roaring, raising their claws for the vicious kill.

Just as they came down for a lethal blow, blue lasers flew down the corridor and vaporized both of the creatures in a smoky vapor.

Twelve stood to behold his savior. Siddoway walked up the corridor, holding his XD.

“Mr. President?” asked Siddoway, confused.

“Yes, I am President Greenfield,” Twelve answered.

“What are you doing here at the Red Phoenix, sir?” asked Siddoway, his voice full of curiosity.

“I was on my way to Washington D.C.,” Twelve replied. “With Bill Hauser, the director of the Secret Service and his assistant, Steiner, of course.”

“Of course,” Siddoway said, staring at him with curiosity, lowering his weapon. “Where is Mr. Hauser now, Mr. President?”

“The creature you just killed murdered him and turned Steiner into one of them on level minus nine.”

“I see,” stated Siddoway. “How unfortunate.”

“You have a fine weapon there,” said Twelve, smiling. “I’m glad you had it. You saved me from getting torn apart.”

“You like it? I designed this weapon,” said Siddoway, forming a plan in his head.
Of course, I rescue the president and blame Michaels for the explosion. I’ll look like a superstar,
he thought.

“Well, it’s brilliant,” said Twelve in a friendly voice.

Siddoway saw a pathway to his redemption, his eyes gleaming at Twelve.

“I guess we should head to the surface, huh?” asked Twelve.

“No, no, no,” Siddoway answered. “There is too much fallout up there, sir. The toxic vapors have penetrated all the floors to level minus six, possibly level minus seven, and will continue to descend.”

“Toxic vapors? You mean the green mist?” asked Twelve.

“Sir, listen. You’re in good hands now, okay? I am Dr. Alex Siddoway,” he said, placing his hand on Twelve’s shoulder gently. “I promise you, as a patriot and a citizen of the United States, I am going to protect you and get you out here safely. Deal?”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Siddoway,” Twelve replied with a handsome grin. “I owe you.”

“C’mon, follow me, sir,” said Siddoway, leading Twelve down the corridor. “I’ll keep you alive in this place.”

***

Chris and Kirk headed towards the surface in an elevator, fully armed, holding their assault rifles across their chests like they were going to war. Chris glanced at the clone, amazed at how much he resembled his son.

“What floor are we getting off on?” asked Kirk.

“I don’t think it would be wise to go all the way to the main level lobby without knowing what kind of fallout we’re dealing with,” Chris answered, pushing the button for level minus four.

“Good point,” Kirk replied.

“Let’s get our head protection on,” said Chris as they put on gas masks.

The elevator stopped. The door opened. Chris and Kirk exited slowly, holding their weapons up, looking down the green mist-filled corridor.

“What the freak?” Chris mumbled in disbelief, trying to see through the green, misty fog as they headed down the quiet, eerie hall with their guns up.

“Is this nuclear fallout?” asked Kirk.

“No, we’d be burning up if it was,” Chris answered.

“What do you think happened to the survivors on this level?” asked Kirk.

“Probably dead,” Chris replied as they reached the end of the corridor.

“Which way do we go from here?” asked Kirk. “Left or right?”

“I’ll take my chances to the right,” Chris answered as they walked down the next corridor, still holding their rifles up.

Kirk glanced at Chris as they made their way down.

“Are you okay?” asked Kirk, noticing Chris’ breathing was becoming louder.

“I’m good,” Chris answered. “I’m just a little anxious is all.”

“It’s perfectly human to feel apprehensive at a time like this,” said Kirk.

“I don’t do well in tunnel-like places,” Chris replied.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Kirk asked.

“Let’s just say that I’m tunnel-phobic,” Chris answered, trying to calm his breathing.