Fatal Containment - Chapter 28

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Chapter 28

Inside the lift station, Cheryl quickly scanned the room. It was a small, cramped space filled with dusty old equipment and a few chairs. A large console with a bank of monitors took up one wall, at one time displaying the feed from various security cameras around the mining base.

As soon as they were inside the lift station, Cheryl was acutely aware of the thick layer of dust that coated every surface. Her heart rate quickened. The dust, a symbol of neglect and decay, caused her to nearly panic. She could feel anxiety bloom as the dust particles invaded her personal space, and she feared the germs and alien bacteria that might be in it.

"I need a moment," she whispered to Tyrell, who was looking at her with concern.

Cheryl's breathing became shallow, so she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small square handkerchief she always kept with her. She gripped it tightly, and slowly the dust didn't seem as threatening. She took deep breaths and mentally repeated her mantra, "You are safe, you are strong."

"Tyrell, help me move this desk," Cheryl said, in command mode despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Cheryl kept the handkerchief between her hand and the desk. Together, they pushed the heavy desk against the door, effectively barricading themselves inside.

Cantrell's tired voice echoed from the other side of the door. "Lieutenant Hinson, this is pointless. My marines will be here any moment. I order you to open this door."

Cheryl ignored him, her eyes scanning the console. She spotted a large red button labeled 'Emergency Lockdown'. With a quick glance at Tyrell, she flipped up the plastic guard and pressed the switch. Immediately, the sound of heavy bolts sliding into place echoed through the room. The lift station was now in lockdown mode, and the door would not open without the correct override code.

"Do you know the override code?" Tyrell asked, his voice shaky.

"We don't need it," Cheryl replied, her eyes now on a dusty map that was askew on the table they had moved. She traced a path with her kerchief, leading from the control room to a small service tunnel. "We're going to use this old mining tunnel. It should lead us out of the base."

"Should?" Tyrell protested.

Cheryl gave him a determined look. "Unless you have a better plan, we go with mine. It's either that or face Cantrell and his marines."

With that, she grabbed a couple of the handheld comm units from the rack, handing one to Tyrell. She then opened a supply closet and retrieved a ladder which she set up on the far side of the room. Tyrell climbed the ladder and opened a panel in the ceiling leading into darkness.

However, when Tyrell opened the panel in the ceiling and she saw the dark, confined space they would have to crawl through, which must have been untouched and gathering dormant germs for months if not years, her mind locked up.

Cheryl's hands shook as she looked at the opening. Her throat tightened, and she felt the urge to run away from the dusty, germ-infested space.

Seeing her struggle, Tyrell seemed to understand. "We can do this," he reassured her. Finding a pair of workman's gloves and a dust mask, he located a compressed air tank in the corner of the room. Carefully blowing as much dust as he dared from the items, he gingerly presented them to Cheryl.

She squeezed her eyes shut and carefully put the mask on, then the gloves.

She closed her eyes and mentally visualized the superior protection she needed from the gloves and mask. She remembered what her therapist had said about visualizing protection from contaminants.

She took another deep breath through her mask and spoke with resolve, "Okay, let's do this."

Tyrell nodded back, and with her mask and gloves on, she began to crawl into the ceiling space as Tyrell followed quickly behind her.

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