The Sphinx Project (21 page)

Jake came back, shock climbing crossing his face. "You guys are the real deal, huh?"

Mouse, who usually looked timid and reserved, was quite intimidating, even though she seemed barely half his height.

I scraped my hair into a high pony tail before pulling a black cap over my head. I adjusted the head-mounted flashlight and strapped it around the hat. Mouse did the same—she liked her new hair, but it was too short to tie back. The cap kept it out of her face.

She removed her glasses and folded them away into the glove compartment. She could see as well as any of us during the night. Mouse was similarly loaded down with weapons, except Briana's axes were hanging from each hip. She usually preferred the three-pronged sai knives, but they wouldn't work so well sawing off heads.

Sitting in the car wasn't comfortable with so many objects protruding from me, but we were soon climbing out again. Jake dropped us about two miles from the first guard post.

We slid into the shadow of the tree line, running through the knee-high grass that surrounded the road on each side. After a mile we decreased our speed, concentrating on the area around us.

The stench of coagulated blood permeated the air. It was difficult to tell whether it lingered on the surrounding environment from the day of our escape or if it was fresh… well, as fresh as coagulated blood could be, in any case. We moved carefully, following the growing smell.

We left the road and smoothly navigated between the trees. We soon found the source of the rotting scent. One of the creatures was lying beneath a gnarled old oak, the head resting half a dozen feet away from the body. Grimacing, I changed course, once again leading the way toward the looming fence of the laboratory's compound.

It didn't take long to cover the rest of the distance. Nothing alerted us to any danger, no noise or scent. There weren't even any nocturnal animals scurrying around. In no time at all we were at the edge of the trees, peering out from the cover of the foliage.

The looming shadow of the building seemed to creep over me. A shiver danced along my spine. Memories flitted in front of my eyes, causing rage to kindle in my chest. If I had my way, the building would be shattered piece by piece then burned to the ground.

The tall chain-link fence was in a state of total disrepair, ripped from the tall poles at some points, wrenched from the ground at others. Some gaps were large enough for a car to drive through unhindered.

The building had been damaged more than we'd realized. From our vantage point I could see where the roof and one of the walls had caved in. The place looked deserted. The white light emanating from the moon reflected off the shattered glass that littered the grass; no children would ever play there again if I had anything to do with it.

We had been so close. So near. We could have been free—we never would have laid eyes on this place again. I couldn't help but feel like we'd never be free to live our own lives.

The building was still. Barely any sound whispered from the crumbling structure, just some sort of odd static; it made me strangely claustrophobic. Looking at each other, a nod confirmed we were thinking along the same lines. We were going in.

I drew my gun and, like in the laser tag maze, I went first. I ran in a half crouch across the wide expanse of grass. We'd approached the clinic from behind and I was able to take shelter in the shadow of the little cottage set in the very corner of the compound. I reached the shadow and dropped low. Smoothly, I swept my gun from one side to the other, thoroughly checking my surroundings.

I couldn't hear anyone and I hadn't seen anyone either. On my signal, Mouse followed, sprinting after me.

The fence had been ripped from the ground in this section and we were easily able to crawl beneath it, staying low in the shadow of the little cottage with bright blue shutters. From the cottage we once again took turns, sprinting in a half crouch to the shadow cast by the crumbling walls.

We hadn't expected this. We didn't think they would completely abandon the clinic. The wall to our left had fallen in, so gaining entrance was simply a matter of picking our way over the rubble. Mouse pointed up, a questioning expression on her face. We had never been past the first floor; the second and third floors had been off limit to us. I nodded but signaled that I thought we should go downstairs first.

My eyesight could only be described as exceptional, but even I have limits. I needed some amount of light to distinguish the outlines of the different shadows and where they merged between. I reached up, activating the little bulbs of my headlamp. The bright whiteness illuminated our surroundings, making the labs seem even more decrepit than I'd first thought.

The clinic was not in a pleasant condition. The stench of rotten creatures lingered, hiding from the wind that would have dispersed it, were we outside. Blood still splattered the walls, despite the fact someone had attempted to wipe it off.

It wasn't until we were a significant distance into the clinic that I realized I was wrong. We came to an area of wall where blood had been sprayed. In the remaining brown stain, I could identify two hand prints at around chest height, and in between those there were the marks I'd assumed to be someone's half-hearted attempt at cleaning. In fact, it now seemed as though someone had tried to
lick
the blood from the wall.

I had to swallow back the vomit forcing itself upwards. I couldn't contain the shudder that violently shook my body. We shouldn't be here.

The stairs had caved in during the quake, or perhaps at some point after. Either way, they were now out of the question. We couldn't use the elevators either. One was lying crushed at the bottom of its shaft and the other was jammed. We couldn't even force open the doors. The only way down was to descend through the shaft housing the shattered metal box below.

I went first, testing the last remaining cable hanging from somewhere above us. It held, and nothing fell on me—both good signs. I gripped it tightly in my right hand, twisting the metal rope around my knuckles as I lowered my body into the shaft. Hand over hand I repeated the motion all the way to the bottom. Mouse followed my lead, climbing onto the cable when there was space for her above me.

It was a quick descent, but I had to admit, my arm protested a little as I disengaged myself at the bottom. My gun was once again in my hand the instant my feet touched the ground, stretched across my body, sweeping the cavern in front of me. What I saw astounded me.

The entire area far exceeded the floor plan of the upper levels. It probably stretched at least a hundred yards farther than the walls of the building on all sides. The elevators were in the very middle of the area. I circled them to make sure nothing surprised us from behind.

Large, clear boxes stood in perfectly straight lines. I couldn't tell what they were. Glass? Plastic? All I knew was that there was a hospital-style bed in each and every one, and a small door allowed access to it.

Mouse landed lightly on her feet behind me, gasping as she took in the scene before us. Mimicking the building above, everything here was white: the walls, the floors, even the desks spread between the transparent cubes.

The huge underground hall had not escaped the earth's rage. A large, ragged crack ran down one of the white walls from floor to ceiling. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that was beneath the wall on the first floor that had crumbled in its entirety. Most of the desks had been upended and there was blood everywhere.

Side by side we moved silently, deeper into the darkness. I could make out the far wall, but only just. We approached the closest cube. Moving nearer I could identify it for what it really was; a cell. The frame of the shell was created from some sort of dark gray metal, the walls from reinforced clear plastic. The doors hinges were on the outside, and a large bolt adorned both the top and the bottom of the wall.

Inside the little cell, wires criss-crossed the wall, sinking into the concrete, along with the heavy-duty plastic. Removing one hand from my gun, I pushed against the wall. It was solid and very strong.

The bed inside was also white, or had been to begin with. It was now a dirty gray with dark brown stains across the bare mattress. At each corner of the bed was a thick leather strap and a metal clamp, resembling one end of a set of handcuffs.

Attached to the outside of the cell was a clear plastic clipboard, a pile of papers clipped into it. The first page showed a photo of a young man, relatively cute if I were to be completely honest. There was no name listed, but he had been designated the number 0410298001.

The page showed a detailed list of anatomical details, everything from eye color and hair color to body mass index, blood type, muscle analysis and measures of aerobic capacity. Shuffling through the pages, I noted each day displayed a new photo. They showed the progression of the physical changes on a daily basis.

It was easy to see he was still the same person, but the differences were sickening. It was strange to note that one day the hair growing from his head changed to white. That meant the more white they had in their hair, the longer they'd been infected. The records described the ways in which his behavior, feeding habits and activity levels altered over the course of the program too.

Moving from cell to cell, we came across the same information. Every one had a different picture on the front. Every one had a different number. The photos all seemed to follow the same progression, mirroring the reports kept by the scientists; a steady downward spiral.

Tears swelled in my eyes as I realized exactly how lucky we were. Where had they found these people? Had the victims known what was happening to them?

We counted the number of cubes down one side of the cavernous room, then another. Multiplying the numbers together, we reached a total of two-hundred fifty plastic cages. A quick exploration found that all except for three had the doors knocked in.

The cause of the initial escape was obvious. The quake had dislodged the bottom of about thirty cells, creating more than enough room for the creatures to sneak underneath. The three that remained unopened held no clipboard and the insides were still pristine white. They were unused.

That left two hundred forty-seven cells. My mouth parted in horror. There was no surprise they'd spread so far so fast. Over two hundred creatures with a highly contagious virus. Infection to saturation took less than twenty-four hours and there was no known antidote.

How long would it take to infect the entire country? We had no way to tell how many people had already been infected. We searched as hastily as we could but nothing shed any further light on the history of the infection or what caused it. If they had a cure it wasn't here. There were dozens of computer screens scattered around the lab, but no hard drives or anything that could store what we were looking for.

Giving it up as a lost cause, I snatched the sheets from every clipboard we passed on our way back to the elevators and hastily folded them, shoving them into the depths of my protective vest.

As we approached the shafts, the odd static noise suddenly stopped. For an instant, all was quiet before I could hear the hammering of at least a dozen human hearts directly above us.

I froze, so did Mouse. Our guns were held in front of us, but the beating seemed to come from all around. We backed away, guns at the ready. The beating stopped. It was only momentary though, and it soon restarted.

My own heart accelerated, terror suffused my body. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, attempting to control the fear.

This time I was able to pinpoint the exact location; it came from the shaft. We trained our weapons on the opening and I paused slightly to concentrate on the noise. I counted again, confirming the presence of twelve hearts, the rhythmic double beat as they contracted and relaxed.

One, though, was slightly irregular, thrown off by an odd noise immediately after the atrial contraction. The poor bastard probably didn't even know anything was wrong.

I thought hard, analyzing all of the actions we could take and possible consequences of them. Listening silently, I could tell that they weren't moving. Their breathing was steady but there wasn't much else other than the slight shuffle as they readjusted their position. We had walked into a trap.

I lifted my hand in the air and, with my finger extended, swung it in a circle. Mouse nodded. We each set off in opposite directions, circling the room. Apart from the elevators, there was only the stairs. They'd fallen in on themselves, but it seemed like a safer idea than attempting to climb back up the cables.

I paused, concentrating on the sounds above. After a moment I determined that nothing awaited us. With a new light filtering through the corridor above, our path was clearly visible.

The jagged brick of the walls created a relatively easy climbing route for us. Some were quite a stretch for me to reach, and one move was almost impossible for Mouse with her shorter arms, but we made it.

We paused before leaving the stairwell. I tried to determine what sort of obstacles we'd be facing upon our exit. I could still hear the team near the elevators, but I could also identify two other pairs of humans. Both walked the outer corridors of the building, a sort of internal perimeter guard. Their radios crackled, keeping the others appraised of their status.

Sure the internal guards were far enough away, I twisted the handle, nudging the door of the stairwell open. The instant the door moved from the frame, the building was engulfed in waves of angry sound, a siren so loud it drowned everything out. Our ears couldn't differentiate between the noise blaring from some unseen place and the thumping footsteps, of those hunters sure to be sprinting in our direction.

We sprinted, guns at the ready, clasped in our outstretched hands. Coming to the first junction, we stalled momentarily, checking around the corner to ensure it was clear before continuing.

We'd always been trained to guarantee our ability to function if one of our senses were removed, but it was like I'd cut my own hands off. My hearing was the sense I favored in this sort of situation. Suddenly three men appeared at the end of the hall, guns drawn. Except their guns weren't like ours. Theirs were assault rifles.