My eyes slowly and groggily opened. The hunger pangs hit in a large wave and dissipate as I silently get up and use my sense of touch to find the sink and down as much water I can hold.
The pool of water is not gonna last, maybe another day. But I don’t think I’LL last that long anyway.
I look around my containment cell as my eyes adjusted to the shifting darkness, I futilely turned the tap and was responded by a groan from the tap and no water.
Sighing I turned it off and was greeted by banging on the metal door that made me jump in place, I scurry to the other side of my cell and hop on top of my bed, curl into the fetal position and pray that it doesn’t burst through this time.
That brute escaped its containment a few cells down the hall a couple days ago, the rest of the infected stopped moaning two days ago. I don’t know if they went dormant or died, but the pressing matter is this racket at the door, this jarring banging that rattled my teeth, I closed my eyes tight and put my hands against my ears.
…
Silence. Finally. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief and checked my wrist watch. Unlike the death row convicts, a former lab technician like me was given better food and board, plus some amenities like a mp3 player (Which was out of batteries at this point) and a way to keep the time in this underground facility.
Images flushed back to my cushy upbringing and college life, getting accepted into a government funded private research facility co-owned by C.R.I.T. was a dream come true, a reward for all those all-nighters and stressful tests and transcripts. Though, absolute secrecy was in the contract, whistle blowers like me sick of the human testing and secret, immoral workings down here… Not to mention the lack of sunlight and basically getting trapped underground working for months on end. It was like prison, but I was getting paid for it I suppose.
Not that it matters, that i’m an actual prisoner, lab rat, or even that the world has pretty much ended from what I gather, after the breach anyway. At least they had the compassion to put me through grueling tests instead of a firing squad, after they discovered my genes were “remarkably stable”. Outwardly I looked human enough, despite my navy blue hair and emerald green eyes replacing my natural black and brown. Internally though, fast regeneration, fast twitch muscle fibers in my legs allowing me to sprint like an olympic athlete, numerous poisons were rendered ineffective or nullified by my liver, among others, they’ve transformed me into something different. I shutter at the thought of the brutal tests, and i’m not sure how much of me is human and how much is… Something else. It’s been eating away at me.
…Bastards. All of them. Cowards, former colleagues or not.
…
Am I a coward though? Not facing my death in front of a hulking monstrosity that was banging on my door? Not a chance. I’d rather starve to death. Ha ha ha…
I sobbed. Silently, of course, muffled by the pillow and was only interrupted again by more hunger pangs. Haven’t eaten in a week, and it’s wearing at me. I gritted my teeth and angrily threw the pillow across the room in a rage. Not caring that I might attract the brute. At this state I was ready to die. Or fight it to death. I didn’t care.
…
Careful listening against the door, I waited for the brute to pass by my door and I hurriedly opened it and tried to sprint down to the exit. Futile. The brute, unlucky for me, turned the moment I tried to leave and punched me across the hallway. As I careened through the hallway and broke the reinforced glass on one of the cells, Gritting through the pain I got up and dodged another swing, this time I was ready and avoided it. Sprinting through the hallways and across a storage section of the lab, it was too slow to catch up as I vaulted over chain-linked fences and I managed to frantically close it behind a metal door just in time.
Shaky hands finally calmed down and I laughed ecstatically amidst the angry bangings that rang around the room I was in. I looked up and forward, ready to escape my confinement, after almost two years of hell.
The banging on the door stopped. The brute howled in rage and moved away from the door. Curiosity got the better of me and I peeked through the bent door. It was fighting a security robot, and when I caught a glimpse of it I recoiled back a bit. The fight was remarkably one-sided, the brute had one good swing and just managed to dent the robot’s thick armor and in return was greeted by a accurate spray of bullets that silenced it’s rampage for good. The security bot then turned and smoothly dove off down the opposite hallway, leaving the corpse and the smell of gunpowder behind.
I quickly made my way toward the corpse, and ruffled through the pockets for anything useful, a bag of cocaine and crystal meth. I pocketed the stimulants. Never know when I might need it.
…
I looted around for essentials, water, clothes, food, the latter of which I scarfed down happily. Fighting off a couple of infected were no real problem. Just knock them down and stomp on their heads. Too slow to really get a hold of me anyway. Even then, when I came across a terminal to the barracks, my eyes lit up. After dodging turrets and other creatures, this might be the thing I need to get out of here. I booted up the terminal and forced access, when I was let in I silently thanked my coding and security professors back in college, hopefully they’re alive after all this time.
After looting the barracks, which were surprisingly empty, I geared up with some sturdy military grade clothing and strapped a L39B-45 to my hip, I strolled toward the computer controlling the doors that stood between me and the armory. I took a bump of cocaine to focus myself and concentrated on hacking the computer.
Success, and I was in. I quickly grabbed whatever bags were available and looted books, guns, and ammo.
When I set my eyes upon it, I froze.
A Barrett .50 cal. Full magazine of ammunition with some to spare, it was sighted in and ready to shoot. This was my ticket out of here. I picked up the heavy rifle and set it in my duffel bag, admiring it ecstatically like a kid in a candy shop.
In this armory, I WAS in a candy shop.
…
I continued trudging through the labyrinth of corridors and hallways, and managed to butcher zombies containing bionics, adding to the collection I already collected from other rooms in the lab. Opening a door, and peeking inside to see a turret with a computer terminal close to it indicated it was the room of one of the top researchers. No doubt the turret was to protect the valuable information inside. I opened the door to the room and made my way past and around it. Didn’t want to move down the hallway in view of the turret, so I positioned myself just outside its view and set up a M110A1 DMR on the ground. With the books i’ve read earlier, I operate these rifles with familiarity. I breathed steadily, aimed, and fired.
In that moment, the turret was broken and I was welcome to the contents inside the terminal. Map data and some information on the practices that took place in the lab. I grimaced in disgust. Not only do I know of it first hand, but having these detailed and imaginative forms of torture and “tests” that I and other subjects experienced first hand, described with glee at the results… I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. With the world ending it brought along something more than just legal punishment. Punishment to their wrongdoings, and the wrongdoings of humanity together.
I shook my head and continued on. From what I remember, I was on the floor below the surface. The only thing blocking my way and to certain freedom was a dangerous looking zombie bio-operator. Again I opened the door and let loose a flurry of rifle bullets from my FN-SCAR L and destroyed it, sacrificing a magazine of ammo. Butchering it and collecting the bionics it offered made me feel better about the loss.
…
Climbing the last flight of stairs, I left the guns behind on a desk on the floor below me, carrying essentials to scout out what I needed. I opened the final door and saw a 9mm turret pointed in my direction and recoiled. I realized It didn’t see me in the darkness, but it was blocking my way out. I climbed back down the stairs and cursed. I checked my watch and it marked day 5 of me getting out of my cell. Food was running low, and I wanted to save my rations for the surface. I didn’t know if it was a nuclear bombed wasteland, or if the town I was in was looted already.
…
I was cooking up some dynamite in preparation to blow open the doors above me, and I could use the rifle I have to destroy the lightly plated turret guarding it. Blowing the doors was a last resort, as the resulting cave-in could bury me in tons of rubble, making my efforts end in vain. While I was making the dynamite, I remembered that the bottom floor of the lab had a room containing the most valuable results of research the lab produced, with that the top researchers must’ve taken refuge within the high-security area and with them carries a all-access key card which should allow me to leave this lab somewhat safely.
The issue is, the high security. Security bots and androids were bound to be there, guarding the corpses of the researchers and the bionics inside. I need every advantage I can get, and those augmentations will help.
However, it should be an easy execution, since I have two secret weapons. Looting multiple armories netted me a 40mm grenade launcher and a Barrett .50 Cal. The grenade launcher has one frag grenade, the Barrett had around 18 rounds.
As I climbed down the stairs with the guns in tow, more hunger pangs hit me. Day 7, and food was out. MRE’s are too precious to use, and that gnawing, shameful craving appeared. Its been a while, but staring at those mutated limbs floating in the vat granted an irresistible allure, and before I knew it I was smashing the vats and gorging on the disgusting malformed limbs. I felt strange, a strain inside my body wracked it in pain, and I fell unconscious.
…
The world started spinning as I pushed myself off the floor to get up. I used a nearby table to help myself up. Gripping on the edge I was rewarded with a handful of splinters, looking at it curiously before I vomited heavily. When I stopped, my surroundings became much clearer, and the distant darkness became more clear. My muscles tensed and shifted with newfound power and I got up with grace and vigor I never had before. I stared at my hand and clenched it. This is what I needed. An advantage to survive.
…
At the final floor I set my .50 cal down, pointing towards the door. I went over this a million times in my head. I breathed sharply and forced the door open and leveled my grenade launcher at the first group of enemies I saw and fired. When the smoke cleared there was nothing left. With the launcher empty, the last security bot barreled toward me. I dropped the launcher and it scattered on the ground as I ran toward the other side of the room I was in and took position behind the sights of my .50 cal. Two shots was all it took to render the robot a sparking box of junk.
Breathing deeply, I went forward and unlocked the containment doors, grabbing the rare bionics and a keycard. Retrieving my guns I once more climbed the stairs, victorious.
At the final hallway, I aimed and put a round in the turret with my M110A1, my choice rifle for dealing with these turrets. I walked past the robotic wreck and swiped the card. It buzzed and the doors hissed as it opened. The tension and excitement, I’ll never forget it. The sensation freedom gave me after all these years was one of the largest sources of satisfaction, and the sense of euphoria had me elated as I climbed the steps and left the basement.
I emerged from the basement, on the first floor of a house deep in the middle of town. It posed its own challenges i’m sure, but what I just went through, escaping town is nothing.
I walked outside and breathed fresh air. I let the sun kiss my skin and bathed in its light after years of not seeing the surface.
I then exhaled serenely as the wind carried the moans and laments of a hundred dead.
