The door to the first building was unlocked, which Alex regarded as a promising sign security wasn’t tight. Inside, they found four rooms, a huge generator humming away in one, more machinery and janitorial supplies in the others. Concerned about being discovered before they’d even started, they didn’t hang around.
The next building along was set back from the others. The back had a pair of wide, locked doors, next to which was what looked like a heavy duty ventilation system with a tall, narrow chimney reaching into the sky. The whole setup set alarm bells ringing for Alex.
“Let’s go round the front,” he said.
Tall hedges shielded the front of the building from those surrounding it. The walls were windowless.
Alex drew his gun. “Ready?” he mouthed.
Micah nodded, his own pistol in his hand.
Alex grasped the handle and yanked the door open. The corridor inside was empty. He listened for a few seconds then walked inside. Once Micah had closed the door, it was impossible for normal eyes to see in the windowless building. Alex felt him grip his shoulder. Even though it was unlikely there was anyone here in the dark, neither of them spoke.
A couple of doors to either side of the entrance were open and led into storage rooms. Going straight past, Alex went to a set of double doors ahead. When he pulled one open, the pungent hot air that spilled out made him gag. Micah choked behind him.
Clamping one hand over his nose did nothing to stop the toxic odour from entering his lungs. It was enough to overpower even the stench of sheep they carried with them. He switched to breathing through his mouth, but it barely helped.
“We need to get out,” he wheezed.
“Please,” Micah said between coughs.
They retreated back outside and leaned against the wall, gasping for breath.
“What was that?” Micah said, raising his face to the sky to draw in more of the clear air.
Alex had seen enough of the inside of the large room to answer him. The chunky metal doors set in the wall at the far side of the room with their small, smoke blackened windows. The flat metal trolleys lined up against the wall. The ceramic tiled, ash dulled floor.
The thick stench of burning flesh.
“Crematorium.”
“Maybe they’re experimenting on animals and it’s for the bodies,” Micah said.
“Do you really believe that?”
He didn’t reply.
Alex looked at the concrete path running from the front door of the crematorium to the back of the next building along. “I’m almost afraid to find out what it
is
for.”
Again, the door into the building was unsecured and there was no-one inside. As they crept along the corridor they entered, Alex couldn’t help wondering where everyone was. The Omnav complex was huge. Hundreds of people should have worked here. And as far as the roaming eaters were concerned, he would have thought inside Omnav was the safest place to be. If the outbreak had been an accident, wouldn’t the place be filled with people feverishly working to stop it before it brought down the entire country? And what was with the eaters guarding the place?
Alex was beginning to think that if Sarcester had been the frying pan, Omnav was looking disturbingly like the fire.
The sign outside the first room they came to said, ‘EXAM 1’, a sign beside the door opposite, ‘EXAM 2’. They chose Exam 1. Inside, everything became clear.
Steel worktops and sinks; surgical saws and instruments lined up on metal trays; a shiny steel table in the centre of the room with a drainage channel around the outside edge and a detachable tap over the small sink at the head. Alex didn’t need to be a medical professional to know what the room was for.
Micah was turning slowly, looking around him. “What I don’t understand is if they’re doing all this here, why did they have the secret lab in Sarcester?”
“This is out of the way,” Alex replied. “Maybe they couldn’t get a supply of eaters out here.”
“But that’s an autopsy table. If it isn’t for eaters, who are they autopsying?”
It was a good question. One Alex wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to.
Exam 2 was the same as its twin across the corridor so they continued to the only other two rooms in the building. The plaque outside the one on their left read, ‘OFFICE’. The one on the right was less benign. ‘MORGUE’. They exchanged a grim look and walked in.
Alex had been in the Sarcester Hospital morgue once, when he’d taken in the victim of a stabbing they’d reached too late while his partner, Rodney Cutter, chased down the murderer. So he knew vaguely what to expect. But the sight of the rows of refrigerated drawers lining the walls still made him shiver, and not because of the unnatural chill of the air in the room.
Micah walked straight to the nearest drawer and pulled it open. Seeing what was inside, his shoulders tensed. “I was hoping it would be empty.”
It was a woman, thirty-something, attractive. Other than the greyish tinge to her dark skin, she could have been sleeping. Her blue skirt suit was neat and unmarked and she had no wounds that Alex could see. She was simply dead.
He stepped up to the body and touched his fingertips to her eyelids. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had to know. Gently, he pushed her eyelids open. Her colourless eyes stared at the ceiling. Shuddering, he closed them again.
“She was either infected or a Survivor,” he said.
Micah was crouched by the drawer beneath her. “Not this one.”
Alex closed the woman’s drawer and looked down at the brown eyes of the man Micah was checking. He was also free of any obvious causes of death.
“How did they die?” he murmured to himself.
“Check the other drawers,” Micah said, standing.
They spent the next few minutes pulling out every drawer in the room. In all, they found thirty-seven bodies. Men and women, ranging in age from twenties up to fifties, almost all dressed for a day at the office, none with any signs of what killed them. The majority had white irises, but fourteen of them didn’t.
A sick feeling was settling in the pit of Alex’s stomach as he pushed the final drawer closed. Micah voiced his own fears.
“Are they using people as guinea pigs here?”
Alex looked out the window at the main building looming across the courtyard. What had they got themselves into?
Alex’s arm shot out, pushing Micah back against the wall.
Another freakishly tall and well built man strolled out of the door they’d been aiming for into the main building, lighting up a cigarette as he went and showing no sign of having seen them.
Breathing out, Alex lowered his arm. Micah grimaced and shot him a glare, rubbing his back where Alex had slammed him into the steelwork.
“Sorry,” Alex mouthed.
The Omnav employee sat on one of the wood and metal benches in the courtyard, his back to them as he puffed smoke into the air. With his jacket pushed back, Alex could see the edge of a holstered pistol at his waist.
An example of modern topiary, all straight lines and edges, no leafy peacocks here, hid them from the guard, but Alex didn’t want to take any chances. Turning back to Micah, he pointed towards the corner of the main building and they crept away.
“Maybe we should look for another way in,” Micah whispered when they were safely out of sight.
Alex nodded and they made their way to the side of the building. They kept a careful watch for any more security guards, but there were none. The guard who was currently coating his lungs with nicotine was the only person they’d seen, other than Chester and Brian, in the hour since they’d got inside the compound. Something was definitely not right.
Reaching the corner, Micah peered through the branches of a shrub.
“Anything?” Alex said.
“No people. Looks like there’s a loading bay though.”
“Cameras?”
Micah stepped in closer to the shrub, almost disappearing as he rustled through the branches. “I see one facing away from us, covering the bay. Can’t see any others.”
Alex looked around, checking they were still alone. “Think we could take the camera out and get into the loading doors?”
“You could probably reach the camera. It’s maybe fifteen feet up. I can’t see if the doors are open though.”
“Okay, let’s try it then.”
With one last look round, they stepped around the shrub and out into the open.
This side of the wing facing the car park was more utilitarian than the front. While the architecture was still steel and glass on the top two floors, at ground level the entire wall was a solid windowless grey looking out onto concrete. No landscaping or minimalist topiary here. And almost no cover. A lorry was parked by the loading bay, but that was all.
They jogged towards the lorry, keeping a watch for any people. Not that it mattered. If someone came, they had nowhere to hide.
“Oh, no,” Micah said suddenly.
Alex slowed and looked back at him. Micah was looking up back the way they had come. Alex followed his line of sight to a CCTV camera set on the wall high above the shrub at the corner.
It was pointing directly at them.
“I didn’t see it,” Micah protested. “It was right above me.”
“We’ll discuss your lack of observational skills later,” Alex said, speeding up.
No longer bothering about stealth, they ran to the loading bay and into the recess where huge double doors were harboured. It didn’t matter now they’d definitely been seen by the first camera.
“Maybe we should just leave,” Micah said as Alex searched for a way in. “Now they know we’re here, what can we do?”
Alex shook his head. “You can leave if you want, but Hannah’s in there and I’m not going without her. Even if I have to shoot my way in and fight through a hundred eaters.”
There was a smaller door to the left of the main loading doors and Alex grasped the handle. Locked. He placed one foot against the wall next to the door and pulled. The handle snapped off in his hand. Suddenly off balance, he staggered backwards a couple of steps before landing on his backside on the ground.
He bit back a scream of frustration.
Micah stepped up to the door and smashed the butt of his pistol into the small window set into the top half. It bounced off the toughened security glass.
“Damn it!”
“We need something bigger,” Alex said, climbing to his feet and looking around.
“How about that?” Micah ran to a two wheeled trolley on the far side of the bay and pulled it back to the door.
Alex picked it up. “Stand back.”
Turning his head away to protect his face from broken glass, he jammed the end of the trolley into the window. The impact turned the glass into a mosaic of tiny squares within its protective coating. Another heavy blow from the trolley and the ruined sheet of glass dislodged from the frame, dangling by a corner against the door. Micah used his pistol to nudge the glass aside, letting it drop to the ground, and wiped away the few remaining pieces of glass from the window frame.
He looked inside. “There’s no way to unlock it from in here.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Micah stepped back and Alex took his place at the door. Taking hold of the window frame, he gripped the steel door and pulled. It didn’t budge. He pulled again, putting all his considerable strength into it, along with a strained groan. Still nothing.
“Maybe it’s made of Kryptonite,” Micah said.
“Do you want to do this?” He tried a third time.
“Sorry,” Micah said, “what is it you’re trying to do?”
Alex stepped back. “It’s an extremely strong door.”
Micah studied the hole where the window used to be. “I think I can fit through here.”
“Are you saying I couldn’t?”
Micah looked him up and down. “Well, you know, middle age spread is a very real thing...”
“Just get in there before the big guards with the big guns come.”
Smirking, Micah shrugged off his black leather jacket and handed it to Alex. Alex considered dropping it on the ground, but decided that would be childish. It was also a really nice jacket.
Starting with his arms, Micah threaded himself through the opening which was barely a foot square. He squirmed his shoulders through, then pushed off the ground and wriggled until he was halfway in. Then he came to a stop.
“Little help here,” he said in a strained voice.
Alex grasped his ankles and pushed. Micah shot through the window. There was a thud and a grunt on the other side of the door followed by Micah’s indignant voice.
“Next time, a bit more gently please.”
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
“Then stop complaining. Can you open the door?”
There were a few seconds of silence. “No. It needs a keycard.” Micah’s face appeared at the window. “Give me your jacket. I’ll pull when you get stuck.”
“
If
I get stuck.” He handed Micah’s jacket in to him and started to shrug off his own.
The sound of footsteps stopped him.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
He crept to the outer edge of the recessed bay and looked out. Another black suited security guard was approaching across the concrete from the direction of the front of the building. There was no way for Alex to get away unseen. He was trapped.
“Come on!” Micah hissed.
Alex returned to the door. “I’ll never get through there in time.”
Micah looked toward where the guard would enter the bay. “I can see better from here. Go and stand at the corner and watch me and I’ll give you a countdown so you can get him before he sees you.”
It was a better plan than anything Alex could think of. He returned to the far edge of the bay and waited, his eyes on Micah at the window. Hearing the sound of the guard’s footsteps getting closer, he tensed, closing his right hand into a fist.
After a few seconds Micah lifted his hand and lowered his fingers one by one.
Five...
four...
three...
two...
one...
Alex whirled round, aiming his fist at head height with enough power to knock the man out as the guard rounded the corner.
At least, on a normal man it would have been head height. What Alex wasn’t counting on was the guard being a direct descendant of Goliath.
Alex’s fist glanced off the man’s jaw and drove into his neck. He staggered back against the corner, choking and clutching at his throat.
“What did you do?!” Micah yelled.
Alex watched the man frantically trying to breathe. “I was aiming for his head! I wasn’t expecting him to be seven feet tall.” He stepped forward, not knowing what to do. What if he’d crushed his windpipe or broken his neck? What if the man died? “I’m sorry! Can you breathe? Please breathe!”
Sagging against the wall and holding his throat while unsuccessfully attempting to drag air into his lungs, the man looked up at Alex, panic in his eyes.
“Oh hell, Micah, what do I do?” He turned to look at Micah behind the door.
“Don’t move.”
It was then that Alex realised his mistake. Micah focused beyond him for a moment before disappearing from the window. Alex turned around slowly to find the guard standing up straight, the gun in his hand pointed at Alex’s chest.
“Take out your gun and place it on the ground,” the man rasped. He coughed, but the gun didn’t waver.
A strange mixture of emotions swept through Alex, a combination of relief that the man wasn’t going to die and disgust that he’d fallen for the ruse.
He affected a look of terror and raised his hands. “Okay, just don’t shoot me.”
Maybe it was because of Alex’s acting ability, or a confidence born of being the size of King Kong, but the guard hadn’t stepped out of Alex’s reach. He should have.
Alex lunged forward, grabbing at the hand holding the gun with his left hand. The bay echoed with the sound of a gunshot, followed a split second later by a metallic ricochet, then the dull thud of a fist hitting a skull.
The guard dropped to the concrete and lay still. Alex immediately grabbed the pistol that dropped from his hand. He wasn’t making that mistake twice. He also checked for any other weapons, coming away with a nasty looking ten inch long serrated knife from a sheath beneath the man’s jacket and a keycard from his breast pocket.
“Is it safe?” Micah called.
Alex looked back at the door to see him reappear at the window. “Thanks for the help.”
“I knew you were going to do something reckless, and when that happens, bullets tend to head in my direction. I’m lucky this door is strong.” The indentation where the bullet had hit the metal by the window opening was clear to see. “What are you going to do with him?”
Alex walked back to the door and handed him the card. “Try this.”
Micah did something to the right of the door then shook his head. “Doesn’t work. There’s a number pad. I think it wants a code.”
“Because the card working would have been too easy.” Alex eyed the small hole in the door. “Do you think we could get him through the window?”
Micah looked at the unconscious man-mountain. “I’m going to go with a no on that.”
“Well, we can’t just leave him here.”
Returning to the man’s comatose form, Alex took hold of his ankles and dragged him across the bay, laying him in a spot a few feet from the door. “Keep an eye on him. I’m going to check the lorry.”
Leaving Micah with his gun trained on the guard, Alex jogged to the small lorry parked near the bay entrance. The door was unlocked and a quick search of the cab produced a set of keys from the glove box. Finally, something was going their way.
The back of the lorry was empty. Now things were going too well.
“I can leave him in there if we find some way to tie him up,” he said when he got back to Micah.
“There’s an office back here,” Micah replied. “I’ll see what I can find.”
The guard groaned as Micah disappeared from the window. Alex kept the gun he’d confiscated from him ready.
The man’s eyes fluttered open. As soon as he saw Alex, his hand went to his holster. Then it went to his knife sheath. Alex tensed in case it went somewhere he’d missed.
“Do you even know how to use that?” the guard said. “Because your safety is on.”
“Nice try, but it doesn’t have a safety independent of the trigger.”
While the guard didn’t exactly relax, he did stop looking like he was about to leap up and wrestle the gun from Alex’s grip.
“You military?”
“Police.”
“Are you going to arrest me?”
“Arresting people isn’t really an option anymore, is it? Thanks to your boss.”
The guard sat up, holding a hand to his jaw. “You have quite a punch.”
“I take it you’ve never been hit by a Survivor. I was holding back.”
He lowered his hand. “I suppose I should thank you then. What are you going to do with me?” He scrunched his nose. “And what is that smell?”
Micah returned at that moment, holding a roll of packing tape. “This is all I could find.”
“What, no duct tape?”
“Sadly not. You’d think they’d be better equipped in a place like this.” He pulled out his gun and tossed the roll to Alex. “Please don’t run,” he said to the guard. “I’m a really good shot, so you wouldn’t get far, but I’d rather not waste the bullet.”