The Thing 2: Infection✔️

Chapter 09: Betrayal

"My name's Falchek, I'm a medic here...I saw them bring you in. I overheard them talking. You're Special Forces?" Falchek replied.

Blake nodded. "Captain Blake. I've been fucked over by Whitley."

"Haven't we all?" Falchek muttered.

"Yeah...so, can I assume that you think we should work together to get out alive and put a stop to Whitley's madness?"

Falchek nodded. "Yeah, definitely. After the shit I've seen...but you'll need to keep your distance. I know how this whole thing works."

"Got it...would you mind giving me the MP-5? I am a soldier," Blake said.

Falchek seemed to consider for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "Sorry."

"Fair enough. Well...let's get to work."

They began slowly and methodically searching the corridor they were in. It was L-shaped and there were five doors in all. The Walker was trapped behind one, and Falchek had just emerged from another. The real bummer came when Blake realized that all three of the other doors were locked down as well. All they had for company in the corridor was a stack of bloodied crates, a sparking computer atop a desk, a lonely, decapitated corpse and a pair of broken fuseboxes that he didn't know how to fix. Nor did Falchek.

What struck Blake as odd was the very nature of the facility itself. Everything had a slick, clean, smooth feel to it. The floor was white tiles, the walls and ceiling made of metal plating. The doors were what stuck out the most. They looked like something out of that old sci-fi show, Star Trek. They were on rails and made of apparently bulletproof glass framed by cold steel. They appeared to meet in the middle and, when opened, parted and slid into the walls. The Gen-Inc biohazard logo was plastered across each of these doors.

Blake couldn't break them down and he couldn't get them open. He figured out that the broken fuseboxes seemed to control them.

"Fuck," he muttered, stumped. "Now what?"

"Isn't there some kind of other room in the surgical bay you came out of?" Falchek asked.

Blake frowned. They'd come to stand back in front of the large, broad door that he'd locked the Walker behind. Both of them stared through the strip of glass that was level with their heads. The Walker stared back at them, black eyes full of fury and insane, alien hatred. Blake heaved a sigh. Falchek was right.

"How do we get past the thing?" Falchek muttered.

"I have an idea. It's dangerous and stupid, but it looks like it's the only choice we've got," Blake replied.

"What? What idea?" Falchek asked.

Blake explained the idea to him, and Falchek agreed with him on both accounts. It was dangerous, stupid and their only option. Falchek was even nice enough to offer him the gun, but Blake refused, both wanting to earn the medic's trust and knowing that it wouldn't do any good either way. He made Falchek retreat as far as he could, down the corridor and around the corner, far out of sight. Then he made his way over to the garage-style door.

Just like before, he knew he wouldn't ever really be ready for it, so he just did it. Blake slapped the open button on the door and it slid open. The Walker let out a horrible shriek of triumph and charged for him. Blake retreated into the emergency shower room he'd first located Falchek in and the Walker made a beeline for him.

Had to time it just right...

Blake dove in the narrow opening between the Walker and the doorway just as it came in. He felt the displacement of air as it swung at him with one twisted, misshapen arm. He tucked into a roll, hit the floor, scrambled to his feet and slammed his fist on the close button. The doors snapped shut. Just in time, too.