Mega Worm Apocalypse

SEVEN

They ran. Eidon and Celia, hand in hand -

No thinking -

No plan -

Just like on the Silver Queen.

They bolted back across the dining room to the nearest exit, the smilodon snarling as it gave chase.

"Don't make this so hard on yourselves," said Franklin, sounding bored somewhere behind them. "You are only prolonging the inevitable."

Eidon slammed the door shut, buying them seconds only as the creature rammed the hard oak and splintered it to nothing.

Seconds was enough.

Celia dragged Eidon up the main stairwell, two steps at a time.

Up.

Up.

It was wrong. Even as they ran, Eidon knew up was the wrong way. They wanted out. Out of the manor, into the sun. But the only way out was back through the dining room to the front hall, the smilodon between them and escape. Up was the only option.

"This way!" Celia screamed, taking the corridor on the right.

This way. That way. It didn't matter. They were trapped no matter where they went. Trapped in the upper levels of the manor. Trapped with the creature. The parasites. Trapped with what used to be Franklin.

A roar exploded behind them as the beast leapt up onto the landing.

"Go! Go!" Celia shrieked, ducking into the nearest room, throwing the door behind them. As soon as it closed, it nearly jumped off the hinges as it was slammed by the creature. The door wouldn't hold it. Doors, Eidon remembered, never held these things.

Eidon raced after Celia, turning through room after room, slamming door after door, racing down hallway after hallway. And he felt it - that clawing, desperate squeeze that he'd felt onboard the Silver Queen. Dark tight hallways. Nightmare growling. Celia. He was right back on that god forsaken ship. And the air suddenly felt thin. His lungs began to ache.

Celia threw open a pair of double doors to a four poster bed in the middle of an obnoxiously ornate room. The master bedroom. Daylight spilled in through the massive bay windows lining the north wall and Eidon wanted to break them, wanted to shatter them to nothing and leap into fresh air, greedily fill his panicked lungs.

"Eidon!" Celia screamed, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him away from the light - away from life - and dragging him deeper into death, deeper into the dark of the massive room. "Help me!" she ordered, pulling at a bookshelf that came away from the wall as the bedroom doors blew off their hinges. The smilodon roared and Eidon grabbed the shelf. He felt cold steel beneath his fingers, felt the heavy shelf glide on a hinge. Not a shelf. A door. Eidon pulled harder, the sinew of his shoulder blades ready to rip apart, as it opened just enough for Celia to push him inside a large dark closet.

He fell as Celia sprang onto a desk and Eidon looked back to see the Smilodon barrel toward them. Celia screamed, wild and furious,  slamming her fist down on a big red button on top of the desk and the door swung closed with a swift and booming clank. A grinding of gears. A clicking of heavy locks. A hydraulic hiss.

And quiet. So quiet. The creature had been right there. Eidon saw its bloodshot eyes. Heard its ancient roar. And now...Eidon couldn't hear anything but the sound of Celia breathing.

"What happened?" he said, panting, gasping at the air that wouldn't come fast enough. "Where are we?"

"Panic room," said Celia.

Eidon's stomach clenched. "What?"

"Panic room," she said, again. "Rich people, don't sound so surprised."

Eidon became aware of a smell -- a stink -- like roadkill baking on asphalt. "But...if it's a panic room..." he started to feel sick. "Then we're locked in here?"

Celia was at the desk, flicking on three computer monitors. "For now," she said.

"Until what?" said Eidon. He gulped at the air, but there wasn't enough. "They smoke us out of here? Burn the house down? Have you ever seen a movie with a panic room?"

"They won't need to do that." Her voice was calm, distracted by the monitors. "They're in no hurry. They just have to wait til we get hungry enough."

"Enough to what?"

She looked at him, surprised he didn't know. "Open the door."

"Oh...." He put a hand to his chest, feeling the crushing weight of his own ribs on his lungs. "That's...that's bleak."

He could feel her watching him, watching him struggle to find his breath. She sat down beside him, taking his other hand and placing it on her chest. "Just breathe," she told him. "You can breathe. In, two, three. Out with me."

He closed his eyes, feeling her chest rise and fall with her count and soon he was breathing properly. He was calmer. Because Celia was with him. They could handle this together. Just like they did on the Silver Queen.

When she was satisfied his breathing was under control, she went back to the monitors.

He checked his phone -- no signal. "Is there a phone? Or like internet or something in here?"

"No," she said. "Disconnected, or maybe it was never set up in the first place. Either way, all we have is access to the security cameras."

The stink was on his tongue now, tickling his gag reflex. "Do you smell that?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Try not to think about it, Eidon."

The way she said it -- almost patronizing. She'd figured out something he hadn't. "What is it? Tell me, Celia."

She cleared her throat, deciding whether or not to say. His mind raced, trying to find the answer for himself. He looked around the dark room. A desk, a bunk bed, a mini fridge. And carpet. A large dark stain spread across most of it. He'd thought the carpet was brown or maroon when he'd first fallen on it. Now he could see, in the spots not covered by the stain -- it was supposed to be white. And the dark colour -- it was blood.

Who's blood?

Celia sat on the edge of the desk, rubbing at her left calf where a smilodon had shredded it back on the Silver Queen. "Guess we know what happened to the Howards."

Eidon swallowed, their fates suddenly colliding with his own. "They opened the door."