Robert Crane - Soulless

“Omega’s at war with you guys,” Reed said as we came to a halt in front of the vent, which was a rectangular solid metal panel that fit into the wall flush. “They’ve been at war with Alpha for years, so I’ve learned not to show a lot of mercy, because they’re not renowned for showing it to us.” He held out his hand and the panel started to rattle, then burst from its mounting. “Ladies first,” he said with a cocky smile.

“Ass,” I said, but didn’t argue. “I’ll go first because the range of my powers is limited, not because I’m a lady.” I bent nearly double and stopped. A long metal duct ran in front of me, and off to my left. I felt a flash of familiarity, looking down the metal tunnel, and my breath caught in my throat. It was like the box.

But it wasn’t, not really. I could feel air circulating through, and over it I heard more tires squeal and looked back to see two big trucks full of guards, unloading on the pavement about a hundred feet in front of the panel. “Let’s go!” I called to Reed and Scott.

“Shall we hold them off?” Reed said to Scott, who had his gun in one hand and his other fist extended.

Scott fired a couple shots. “Seems the gentlemanly thing to do. Got any ideas for that?”

“Elementally, dear Watson,” Reed said, another tornado forming in front of him. “Elementally.”

I heard Scott give off a cackle and I started to say something smartass and join them, my gun drawn. I stopped when I saw one of the guards on the truck aim an RPG launcher right at me.

“GO!” Scott shouted, launching himself to the left. I saw Reed go right, leaving the RPG pointed at me. I saw the flare of the tube as I dived into the duct, running as fast as I could whilst bent double.

The RPG exploded behind me, the force of it yanking me off my feet. The ductwork took an abrupt, ninety degree right turn that I couldn’t quite make as the explosive force drove me forward into the metal. I burst through the soft aluminum, my head ringing, and realized I was hanging, suspended in mid-air for almost a second before gravity caught me. I fell, dropping, down, down, down into the darkness of the room below me.

I hit cold metal, my shoulder landing first, then my torso, and all my breath left me. I gasped, pain shooting through me. I couldn’t hear anything but ringing in my ears, again, only worse this time, like someone had set off a fire alarm in my brain, rattling the damned bell so hard I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. One by one, little agonies began to work their way into my consciousness; a searing pain in my shoulder, a feeling in my knee like I’d been hit with a hammer, and the taste of blood flowing in my mouth.

I worked my way to my knees and opened my eyes. I’d landed on a metal catwalk and below me was inky blackness. I looked above, to where I’d come from, and far up there I could see a smoking bit of ductwork, mangled by the explosion and my passage through the metal. Tracing it back toward the wall, it was ballooned comically, as though someone had pushed the sides out with all the ease of crumpling tinfoil. I wondered if Scott and Reed were all right, but something told me that even if they were, I wasn’t going to be seeing them come down the way I had.

I gripped the railing of the catwalk, trying to force myself to my feet. It seemed to be harder this time than I could recall it being in the past. I had pains everywhere, but after a minute of solid effort I made it to my feet, leaning on the railing for support. I looked both directions the catwalk extended, and decided I needed to pick one. I finally decided on right, not totally at random, but close. Why? Because it was the right way. I couldn’t bring myself to even chuckle at my horrible pun, such was the pain in my body.

I staggered along, my right leg starting to numb the more I walked. I didn’t think it was broken, but I knew I was going to have one bitch of a bruise on it later. I kept my right arm close to my body because the shoulder cried out in anguish anytime I moved it. I had lost my main gun in the explosion and fall, but I had pulled my backup, a much smaller weapon with a smaller magazine, a Walther PPK. Unfortunately, all I had was the seven shots it gave me, and then I’d be out.

My shoes clanked on the catwalk, and I hoped there was no one hiding below that could hear me. It was so dark underneath that it would be near impossible to tell. I took a fragment of duct that had blown loose from the explosion and dropped it over the side of the catwalk. I listened, but either because of the ringing in my ears or the distance it fell, I didn’t hear it land.

Ahead I saw the outline of a door, a big, heavy metal one. I urged myself forward, resting more and more weight on my wounded leg. It still stung, but I knew now that nothing was broken, which meant that all I needed to do was fight through the pain. The bad news was, there was quite a bit of it to fight through.

I reached the door and grasped the handle, turning it slowly. I pushed the heavy metal with my shoulder, trying not to rush or fall through. I cracked it and looked inside, finding a concrete room with some lockers along one wall and a set of double doors that went on into the room beyond.

I led with my gun, limping into the room. Some caution signs were posted on the double doors, but they didn’t stop me. The doors swung open for me, and I found myself in another room, walking on metal catwalks that led to a center platform with something sunken in the middle. I felt a chill; the room was like nothing I’d seen before in anything other than a movie. Large, cylindrical metal tanks were clustered below in hexagons, ominous chemical configurations written on the sides with warnings not to disturb the contents.

The whole room was cold, bitterly so, as bad as winter, and I wished for the first time that day that I’d been wearing my gloves and jacket. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms as I approached the center of the room. The catwalk gave way for the circular platform, which looked like it had a segment of metal in the middle that was removable. Exactly what it slid away for, I wasn’t sure, but it was obvious that it was patterned differently than the rest of the platform.

“Sienna?” The man’s voice caught my attention, turning me around. He was behind me, in front of the doors I had just come through, his face barely visible in the dim light of the room. He was wearing a tight shirt, no buttons, and jeans that would have stirred my imagination even if I hadn’t seen him naked the night before.

“James?” I let out a deep breath, all tension. “You found me.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” he said. “There’s only one Omega facility in eastern Wisconsin – or anywhere east until New York.” He walked down the catwalk, approaching slowly, his hands extended. “God, it looks like they tore you up…what happened?”

I brushed a strand of bloodied hair out of my face. “They fired an RPG into the duct I was using to enter the building.” I laughed under my breath, a dark chuckle without any real humor. “I wish I’d stayed in Eau Claire with you. I think it would have been less painful.”

“No kidding.” He was only a few feet away now, easing closer, when he came to a stop. “I don’t mean to be rude, because I know we’re in the middle of kind of a hostile place here, but are you gonna keep pointing your gun at me?”

“For now, yes,” I said, and the playfulness was out of my voice. “Sorry, James. I don’t really know you all that well, do I? You turn up in an Omega base at a convenient moment, and although you may genuinely be here to help me, I can’t rule out the possibility that you’re working with the enemy.”

He flushed but managed to keep his expression under control. “Ouch. So our time together doesn’t count for much, does it?”