The Thing 2: Infection✔️

Chapter 08: Questionable Ethics

Ringing the peripheral of the room were all manner of examination tables, medical cabinets, tables, sinks, counter tops, all of it cast in shiny stainless steel. It was marred occasionally by a smear of blood, some of it red, some of it black. A headless corpse sat against one wall, looking lonely. There was just one door in the room. Blake took a moment to search it, continually tossing nervous glances at the huge Walker held in the tank.

There was nothing worthwhile in the room, so Blake went through the door and up a narrow corridor. He stared in through the glass mounted in the door at the end of the corridor. A large, open medical lab waited for him. Blake opened the door and took a quick survey of the room. His half of the area was open, like a surgical bay. Also like a surgical bay, there was an enormous examination table, tilted slightly upwards, to his left. There were three massive, powerful restraining straps attached to the bloodied table.

They were all broken.

Blake swallowed nervously. Something big was in the area.

Even as he thought this, he heard heavy, plodding footfalls from somewhere. He scanned the area. Dead ahead were two broad support pillars. He could see an alcove of space behind them and had a view of some barrels-

A massive Walker, easily eight feet tall with ashy gray skin, stepped out in front of the barrels. Blake aimed his MP-5 and opened fire. Almost as soon as he did, his hearing and vision were overloaded by a massive explosion. Blake fell flat on his ass and was shoved back several feet as a wave of heat washed over him. A few seconds later Blake lurched to his feet, groaning. There were flaming bits of gore spread out all over the lab. As he was processing this, a new figure emerged from behind one of the pillars, holding a pistol.

"Don't move!"

Blake raised his own weapon. "Identify yourself!" he snarled.

The man before him was short and squat with a crew cut of black hair. He wore a blue jumpsuit with a white biohazard symbol over the left side of his chest. He wore a white shirt beneath the jumpsuit, visible at the neckline, and white sneakers. The distrust and paranoia were naked in his gaze and he looked ready to blow Blake's brains out.

"My name is Price," he said after a long moment. "Who the hell are you?"

"Blake. I'm Special Forces. I assume you're with Gen Inc," Blake replied.

Price kept aiming his pistol. Blake had to give him credit, the barrel wasn't wavering an inch. Finally, he lowered it, slightly. "Yeah, I'm an engineer here. What the hell is the Special Forces doing down here?"

"It's a long story...but I imagine you won't believe anything I say until I run a blood test."

Price nodded. "Obviously you've picked a few things up."

"Yes. Now, I've got some test kits in my pack. I'm going to get them out," Blake said, slowly lowering his MP-5.

"Slowly," Price replied.

Blake got out his test kit and tested himself. It came out negative. Price relaxed visibly. "My turn," he muttered.

Blake passed a second kit to Price, who stuck it in his arm and pulled the trigger. Blake kept him covered with his flamethrower, waiting as the long seconds ticked out. Nothing happened. Both of them let out a sigh.

"Wait, why are you relieved?" Blake asked.

"We haven't been able to determine if an infected subject knows if they're infected," Price replied.

Blake frowned. "That's...really damned creepy," he muttered.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I always knew something like this was going to happen."