"Who are you?" Kyra asked.
Their run with the mystery man had led them to a reinforced security checkpoint. Judging from the relatively cleaned-up and somewhat well-stocked nature of the room, as well as its actual security, she guessed that it was his nest, his eye in this bloody maelstrom.
"Falcheck," he replied simply.
He had Collins out of his damaged armor and laying on a cot, carefully checking over his wounded torso. The man grimaced but otherwise held silent as the man worked.
"And?" Kyra pressed.
He sighed, not looking at her, focusing on Collins. "I'm a medic."
"You're the one I saw earlier," Collins grunted. "You wouldn't work with me."
"No," Falcheck replied curtly. "I didn't know if I could trust you or not."
"But now you do?" Kyra asked.
"Mostly," he replied. "Doubt they'd be trying to rip all of you limb-from-limb if you were on their side. So far, it seems to be a good enough test. Why I'm working with her," he said, indicating Weldon, who was standing by the room's only entrance silently. It was locked down, but she seemed intent on guarding it. "She was about to be eaten by one of the big bastards. The ones that throw green fire."
"Baron of Hell," Kyra muttered.
"That what they're called? Or that what you call 'em?"
"What someone I know calls them."
"Where's the others?" Weldon asked, speaking for the first time.
"Pace, Burrows, and North are dead," Kyra replied flatly. "Linaweaver is MIA, but he probably is dead as well." She kicked a chair as anger swept over her. "Motherfucker!" she snapped. "They led us right into that goddamn vipers nest."
"Yes, they did," Powell murmured. He was at the primary workstation, working at it furiously, typing mostly in silence.
"They lured you in?" Falcheck asked, suddenly interested. "How? You seem pretty smart."
"Text only message. Came from my el-tee."
"Huh. So no voices? I don't know if they can imitate voices or not. Or take someone over and make them talk...okay, I've done what I can. You got a few cracked ribs. You're lucky you got away with that. Gonna hurt like a bitch, but the armor will help keep it immobile. So long as you don't try to take the bull by the horns again."
"Thanks for that, by the way," Kyra said.
"Part of my job," Collins grunted. "If anyone's gonna get us out of this, it's gonna be you, Staff Sergeant."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she murmured.
"I've seen a lot of brass in my time, Staff Sergeant, a lot. Worked with a lot of 'em. You're more competent, brave, and smart than ninety percent of the people who outrank you I've seen in my life. I can tell that much so far. We're fucked. Not us, but the human race. And the only way we're ever going to get unfucked is eggheads who have a soul and warriors like you and Linaweaver and those pals of yours you mentioned."
"He's right," Weldon said.
"I know," Kyra replied quietly, then forced away the feelings of dread and despair that seemed to wash over her like a high tide, "but that's for later. Right now, we still have a job to do. Falcheck, how much do you know about our mission?"
"Weldon filled me in," he replied, stepping back. He pointed to a nearby locker. "You'll find some replacement armor in there."
"Thanks," Collins muttered. It was weird to see him humbled and sane after coming across him in a half-berserk state. Slowly, he got to his feet. He was shirtless now and she could see a huge bruise on his chest, and another on his back as he turned around. He carefully pulled his uniform back on and then made for the locker.
"Blair is the traitor. He's working with the demons," Falcheck said.
Kyra stiffened and took a step closer. "You know?"
"Yes."
"For a fact?" she pressed.
"Yes."
"How?"
Falcheck sighed. "I was one of the last survivors, and Blair got in touch with me earlier. Started asking me to help keep the facility from falling completely into ruin. I knew he was high ranking, and I figured he knew his shit. We talked over the radios. He sent me on a few jobs. Repair a junction, rescue a survivor, secure a location. I had the impression I was working with other lone survivors like myself. Then he sends me to rescue someone in the underground, at a security checkpoint. Only no one's there. And the second I step inside, the lockdown engages. And Blair tells me over the radio that my usefulness has come to an end. Luckily, I managed to get the fuck out of there. I'm guess it was when you all showed up on his radar, and he figured I was too good of a survivor to be kept alive. He was right. I managed to slip out and after that I didn't trust anyone for awhile."
"He just tried to do the same to us," Kyra said. "Though without the direct message. Does that mean someone else is arriving?"
"That, or he's getting close enough to finishing up whatever the hell it is he's doing locked up in Command Control that we're too much of a liability," Falcheck replied.
"Are we sure he's in Command Control? We need some way to check, and we need to know if Linaweaver and Carpenter are still alive," Kyra said.
"Working on it right now," Powell replied.
"What do you mean?" She moved to join him, as did Falcheck.
"I'm hacking the LifeScan. Blair is trying to keep me out but I'm better at this than he is. And..." He hit a key and leaned back. "Done. I'm forcing the LifeScan senors to sweep the entire facility and tell us who is alive and where."
"So Blair wasn't bullshitting about the personnel tracker?"
"No. We do have one in this facility, and I'm using it."
"Can Blair fuck with the results?" Falcheck asked.
"Possible, but unlikely, and if he did, I feel confident I'd notice."
"Why would he work with them?" Kyra muttered. "Is he possessed? Or is he still actually himself, but they're promising him something?"
"Probably that second one, he's an immoral, insane son of a bitch if I've ever met one. Absolute sociopath. He'd murder people by the truckload if it meant it somehow forwarded his agenda. Whatever the fuck it is," Powell said.
"Wonder what they promised him."
Falcheck shrugged. "What do they always promise people in the stories? Power? Immortality? Who gives a shit, anyone who would take that deal is fucking stupid. I mean, I'd have more sympathy if it turned out that they promised to resurrect his dead wife or pet bunny rabbit or something like that, but if he convinced someone to marry him, I have no doubt he gives absolutely zero fucks about them." The workstation chimed and they all leaned forward.
"Okay, got something," Powell muttered. "Well, first bit of news: literally everyone left alive in the entire region is present inside this building. Second bit of news: Carpenter and Blair are both still alive. Blair is indeed in Command Control, Carpenter is...somewhere in the labs, deep in them, for some reason. Both of their life signs are strong, although Blair's are...weird. And besides us, there's a third life sign, also still alive, and unregistered."
"It has to be Linaweaver," Kyra said. "Where?"
"Scientist's dorms," Powell said.
Before he'd even finished speaking, Kyra was walking over to where Falcheck had accumulated a decent stash of guns and ammo. She saw Raptor SMGs, shotguns, and pistols, and a lot of ammo for them all. Right now, she was down to her pistol, as she'd abandoned her shotgun during that last firefight. She grabbed an SMG and a shotgun, and began loading up on ammo for all three weapons now in her arsenal.
"We're going after Linaweaver, then Carpenter," she said. "Get over here and grab everything you can." She glanced at Falcheck. "You got anymore of those suits of Combat Armor around?"
He shook his head. "Only one I've found intact. And I'm hanging onto it."
"Don't blame you. How about heavier weapons?" she asked.
He sighed and shook his head. "No. And we expended all the ammo for our plasma rifles saving your asses."
She considered asking him to give up the chaingun, as she'd also lost her own during that conflict, but knew he wouldn't, not even under a direct order. She couldn't tell his rank, his chestplate was bare, but she doubted he outranked her.
"You ready to throw in with us? You know the score," she said.
He sighed. "Yeah, might as well."
They all joined her in cleaning out the ammo storage.
"Powell, can we get into the labs?"
"Yes, actually. I just checked it. It's supposed to be locked down, but the door in was physically destroyed. So we'll be fine there. Command Control, on the other hand, is another story. But...if we have Carpenter with us, he should be able to get us past the lockdown."
"What about guns?" Kyra asked. "This a top-secret, high-tech UAC facility and you found those plasma rifles somewhere. There's gotta be a bigger store of guns around here someplace."
"There is," Powell replied. "I managed to hunt that information down before you all showed up. I was going to go there, at some point. There's a big armory in the labs. If there's guns anywhere, they'll be there."
"Then great. This is the plan: we rescue Linaweaver, then we hit the labs, grab the guns, rescue Carpenter, break into Command Control, and murder Blair. Or at least capture him and figure out what he knows. We've got to get that intel. Now..." She finished loading up and slapped a fresh magazine into the SMG. "Let's fucking do this."
* * *
The scientist's dorms were suspiciously empty, but Kyra thought that maybe they'd just killed most of the demons in the immediate area and the survivors had wandered off in search of fresh meat. They followed the map that would lead them to Linaweaver's last known location, which was one of the scientist's domiciles, picked seemingly at random. It was probably where he'd ended up after fleeing whatever trap that Blair had laid for him as well. Apparently he'd made it out alive and intact, unless the LifeScan was malfunctioning.
By now, Kyra had decided firmly to abandon use of the radio. It was too dangerous with Blair up in Command Control. He could probably already see most of their moves, and apparently could control the demonic hordes somehow. Or at least was in touch with something that could. But how far did that control extend? Now that he no longer had any use for them, and in fact wanted them dead, how many demons would he throw their way?
Given they were apparently damn near the only living people left in the base, why not every last one of them? How many were there? Was there a finite amount or was he drawing in an endless stream of the fuckers?
All questions to be answered soon, hopefully.
They reached the dorm in question and Kyra hammered on the door. "Linaweaver, it's Morgan! You in there?"
A pause, then a muffled response. "How do I know it's you? We walked right into a fucking trap," he replied.
Kyra thought about it for a moment, then sighed. "Shit, I don't know, man. It's not like we knew each other at all before meeting in the hangar back at Freeman."
He was silent for a few seconds, then she heard a muffled sigh. "I guess that'll have to do."
The door opened up. Kyra found herself looking at Lt. Linaweaver. His suit was bloodier and more damaged than the last time she'd parted ways with him, but he was still intact. He studied her, and the others with her.
"You found Weldon, and Collins," he said.
"Yep, also Powell, and a local medic named Falcheck. Also, unfortunately, we found North and Parnevik. They're dead."
"Damn...now what, then? I'm guessing Blair wasn't exactly on the level when he sent us to hunt down Carpenter?"
"Yeah. We're going to go grab more guns, then Carpenter, then Blair, in that order, and we need your help," Kyra replied.
"Count me in."
He stepped out of the dorm and into the hallway, and they began heading back towards the primary antechamber that would lead them ultimately to the labs.
"How'd you survive?" Kyra asked.
He was quiet for a long moment before responding. "I ran," he admitted finally. "When it became obvious we weren't going to make it, I saw an opportunity and I...took it."
"You made the right call, Linaweaver," Kyra said firmly, because she knew exactly how he felt. "If you were facing anything like what we were facing, all three of you would be dead if you hadn't run, and we need your help. One survivor is better than none."
"I could've-" he began, but Kyra cut him off.
"If you hadn't run, you'd be dead along with them," she said.
He sighed. "Yeah."
"It fucking sucks, I know. But right now it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is ending this apocalypse, and we can't do it alone, but we can probably deal a serious blow, and to do that we need to stay alive as long as possible."
"This intel better be absolutely killer, whatever it is," Collins muttered.
"We'll find out soon, one way or another. Now come on, hurry up," Kyra replied.
* * *
The way into the science labs had indeed been torn asunder.
It looked like one of the big bastards had gone to work on it at some point, or maybe even two or three of them. The thick, metal doors had been broken inwards, and they looked like someone had taken a giant, industrial-strength can-opener to them. There was a liberal amount of blood splashed here, there, and everywhere, and a lot of bodies, broken in death, scattered around the security checkpoint that lay beyond the twisted entryway. Kyra and Linaweaver led the way in, guns at the ready, fingers on the triggers.
There were dead personnel and dead demons scattered everywhere.
Lights and screens flickered and bled sparks periodically. Spent shell casings carpeted the floor, mixing with the blood and pulped gore. Three doors led away from their current position, each one marked with a sign.
The one dead ahead of them led to GENETIC SEQUENCING.
The one slanted to the right was BIOLOGY.
The one slanted to the left was SPECIMEN STORAGE.
"Which one has the guns?" Kyra asked.
"Apparently Genetic Sequencing," Powell replied. "The map didn't have labels for the actual labs."
"And Genetic Sequencing is locked down..." Falcheck muttered.
"The Biology Lab isn't," Collins said.
"Which is suspicious. Can we get through Biology into Genetics?" Kyra asked.
"Yeah, there was a connecting corridor on the map. Provided we can get into that we'll be good, hopefully," Powell replied.
"So either Blair is watching our every move and is trying to herd us into Biology for some reason, or the door just malfunctioned and can't be locked down," Kyra said. She sighed. "Either way, doesn't matter. Let's go."
They walked up to the big door that would let them into the Biology Lab and, after preparing for the worst, Collins hit the button.
The door ground open.
It was barely halfway open before an absolute tsunami of discordant sound hit them. Screams, roars, cries, shrieks, maddened howls all came rushing at them the second the fucking party of demonic creatures in the Biology Lab took notice of them and began their own rush. Kyra reacted instantly, snapping up the SMG and unloading. She took in the shrieking horde of nightmares as she opened up, hosing them down with broad, back-and-forth sweeps of the SMG, wishing that she had a chaingun, or at least a damned assault rifle.
There were a ton of zombies and fiends making up the bulk of the crowd, but she was also very unhappy to see that there were a pair of those skeletal bastards with shoulder-mounted rocket launchers in the crowd, towering above the others.
Only this time, it wasn't going to be so one-sided.
She had four other badass, well-armed warriors on her side.
And they all opened fire at the same time. Two shotguns and three submachine guns unleashed red hot metal death on the howling horde of death-dealing demons. The former humans and fiends closest to the front wilted and died immediately under the rain of bullets and shells. And then the survivors were scrambling over their dead and dying comrades, seemingly heedless to the onrushing bullets. They drew closer rapidly, the pair of skeletons stomping their jerky way through the crowd, and Kyra knew right away they were going to be a problem. As she emptied her SMG, ejected the spent mag, and slapped a fresh one in, she shifted focus to the leftmost skeleton and opened fire. The bullets began plinking off its single piece of bright silver armor, covering its ribcage and supporting the launchers, as well as its bleached bone exterior.
It wasn't enough.
Both of the bony bastards fired off a pair of rockets directly at them.
"Rockets! Incoming!" Kyra shouted as she rapidly backpedaled, shifting fire back to the crowd of demons, trying to keep them at bay.
As everyone temporarily fell back out of sight, the rockets smashed harmlessly into walls or the floor, but they did at least part of their job. The door was now unguarded, and although it was only a few-second lapse, that was enough to let the demons through. Suddenly, Kyra and her squad found themselves knee-deep in snarling, screaming horrors from hell. Backing up, Kyra kept firing. Aiming and squeezing the trigger, she split the skull of a sneering zombie raising a shotgun in her direction. It went down, spraying the others around it with gore, and Kyra then delivered three quick bursts of bullets into another trio of zombies, cracking open craniums with a brutal efficiency. She finished off the magazine and then switched to her shotgun after dropping a pair of fiends. The skeletons were gearing up for another shot.
This was not going as she was hoping.
"Scatter!" she shouted as four more rockets came at them.
One immediately crashed into the back of a pair of zombies as it dove down, trying to come after Powell, and vaporized their top halves while sending several others stumbling and setting them aflame. One of them was zeroing directly in on Kyra. There were too many monsters around her. Cursing, she rapidly pumped out two shells and blew the heads off a fiend and a zombie, and then, seeing she was out of time, she snagged a zombie and yanked it around forcefully, and just in time, so that it was between her and the rocket.
It crashed into the zombie's back, blowing it to pulped, perforated shreds of meat, and sending her flying backwards, her feet leaving the floor. She hit the deckplates a second later with a resounding crash. The breath driven from her lungs, Kyra forced herself to focus as she sat up and took aim with the shotgun. More were coming, but she thought they were beginning to turn the tide. She emptied the shotgun taking down another half dozen zombies and then surged to her feet, switched back to the SMG, and reloaded.
She exchanged that magazine for another half dozen dead fiends and looked around. Everyone was still alive and functioning, though it looked like Collins had taken another hit. Not good. The skeletons were nearly through the door now. They had to deal with those things and now. Kyra switched back to her shotgun and fed a few more shells into it as she stared racing towards the skeletons. No way to do it but to do it, and right now this was the only way to do it that she could see. She bashed aside a few fiends, trusting the others to cover her as she stormed forward, and as she got up to the leftmost skeleton, she put the shotgun in its bony, grinning skull of a face and squeezed the trigger, firing point-blank into it.
The thing's head disappeared in a spray of bony bits and gunsmoke.
Kyra was already stepping back and away while simultaneously twisting and pumping the shotgun. The second skeleton was reaching for her with hands no doubt strong enough to rip right through her suit of armor.
She repeated the action and decapitated the second ossified fuck.
After that, it was a simple matter of cleaning up the stragglers.
"Everyone okay? Sound off," Kyra said as she reloaded, standing among a sea of the dead. She listened as each of the warriors on her roster sounded off. Collins sounded a little worse for the wear, but he was still in the game. She hated making him press on like this, but they didn't really have a whole lot of options right now.
"That was a hell of a fucking play, Staff Sergeant," Weldon said as they finished reloading and joined her at the lab's entrance.
"Yeah, let's just hope it matters fifteen minutes from now," she replied.
They regrouped, reloaded, and headed into the Biology Lab. It was clear, and they even managed to get through the connecting corridor to the Genetics Lab and into the lab itself without any more problems. It seemed that Hell had temporarily exhausted its local forces. She wondered how long that would last, but couldn't help but get into a good mood as they located the armory, accessed it, and found it decently well-supplied.
"That's mine," Kyra said, walking over to a rocket launcher mounted inside a glass display case. She smashed the case with her fist and pulled the launcher, and the box of eight rockets, from inside. Loading up two of them, she pocketed the rest and let the launcher hang from its strap. "That's also mine," she said, walking over to a plasma rifle set out on a desk.
"Fine, but Weldon and I need some ammo for ours," Falcheck replied.
While they hunted around for spare cells, Collins and Linaweaver armed themselves with chainguns, and Powell grabbed an assault rifle and a lot of spare ammo. They spent ten minutes clearing the place out, grabbing everything they could.
When they were finished, Kyra flicked on the plasma rifle.
It hummed to life.
"Let's find Carpenter and get some fucking answers."