David Bernstein - Machines of the Dead

Zaun grabbed Jack’s arms, and looked him in the eyes. “You remember why we’re here? What we have to do in order to get our asses out of here?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, just let me get cleaned up.”

“Make it fast, we have to go.”

He hurried to Chambers’ bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he felt his stomach churn. His heart was beating fast, too fast. He needed to puke. Leaning over the toilet bowl, he hurled. He felt better. Back at the sink, he washed Chambers’ blood from his hands and face, then ran his jacket under the shower for a minute, getting it as clean as possible.

“I’m fine now,” he said, walking back into the room.

“Good,” Zaun said. “I didn’t enjoy killing him. I’d rather have tied the bastard up and left him here, but I didn’t survive all those days in my apartment, for you to risk your life rescuing me, only to be tortured to death. We’re getting out of here, Jack.”

“Hold on,” Jack said, then walked over to where a jacket was hanging up on a coat rack. Under the garment was a gun harness with a sidearm attached. Removing the piece, Jack saw that it was a Desert Eagle. 44 magnum, a powerful handgun. He ejected the clip, saw that it was loaded, then popped it back in and racked the slide, sending a bullet into the chamber. Taking off his wet jacket, he slid into Chambers’ harness and replaced the gun to the holster, before putting his jacket back on.

“Jack,” Zaun said, “you going to be able to use that?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s us or them, right?”

Zaun smiled. “Right.”

They left Chambers’ room, heading to Reynolds’ place, when someone yelled from behind.

Both men turned around and Jack was glad he decided to zip up his coat.

“Where are you two headed?” the guard asked. Jack recognized the man; name was Jacob, Ron Jacob, but had never spoken to him. The one time Jack did try talking to him, the guy said he was busy and for Jack to move along. Jack thought he was an asshole, but that didn’t mean he deserved to die. Then again, maybe he did. He was a high-ranking guard, always with Chambers and the others.

The man came closer, an M4 machine gun in his hands, but pointed at the floor. “Is that blood?” the man asked.

Jack turned to see that Zaun hadn’t cleaned the blood very well from himself, a bit showing on his sleeves and neck. He closed his eyes, furious with himself for not making sure they looked okay. If they made it passed this guard, they would both need to be more aware of such things.

“I’m hurt,” Zaun said, holding his side.

The guard looked Zaun up and down. “I’ll alert Doc Fredrich; take you to his office.”

Jack thought it odd that the man didn’t ask how hurt Zaun was or how Zaun became injured. Maybe he didn’t care or maybe he figured if Zaun was standing, walking, the injury was minor.

“We can’t let him take us there, Jack,” Zaun whispered as he leaned on his friend’s shoulder, faking a grimace. “You’ve got to take him out.”

Keeping his right hand on the trigger, the guard reached for his radio with the other.

Jack pulled the. 44 from his coat and pointed it at the guard. “Don’t,” he said.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the guard barked.

“We just want to leave,” Jack said. “Drop the weapon and turn around, hands against the wall.”

“Fuck you,” the man said, and went to raise his weapon.

Jack pulled the trigger. The gun erupted, the retort loud in the hallway. A small hole appeared in the man’s forehead before he collapsed backward to the floor.

“Damn it,” Jack hollered, lowering the weapon.

Zaun ran over and scooped up the machine gun, then grabbed the dead man’s Taser and sidearm. He tossed the man’s radio to Jack, then the Taser. Jack stuffed both items into his jacket pockets.

“Can we use these?” Zaun, said, holding up a bunch of zip-ties.

“We’ll need them for Reynolds.”

Zaun stuffed the ties into one of his pockets.

Jack stared at the dead man. He thought he would feel terrible, shaky, but he felt nothing.

“We have to move, Jack. I’m sure someone heard the shot.”

They walked quickly down the hall, making sure not to run in case they bumped into another guard. When they reached Reynolds’ door, Zaun stood off to the right of it, hiding the machine gun from view.

Jack raised his arm to knock when an alarm sounded.

“Guess someone found the body in the hall,” Zaun said.

“No,” Jack said, pounding his fist against the door. “Right here.” He pointed up, indicating a small red lens just above the doorframe. Reynolds had a security camera allowing him to see who was outside his door. “He must have seen you with the machine gun and hit the alarm.”

Jack began kicking the door, trying to break in, but the thing was solid. He needed to destroy the lock. Pulling out the. 44 magnum, he told Zaun to back away, and fired at the mechanism. The bullet turned the cylinder into a twisted mash of metal. Jack began kicking at the door again, the thing loosening up.

“Security’s been alerted, Jack,” Reynolds said, his voice coming from the small intercom outside the door.

Zaun joined in as both men kicked at the door until it finally flew inward.

Gunshots rang out, the bullets whizzing passed Jack’s head.

Zaun reached around the doorway and fired his machine gun.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, incredulously. “We need him alive.”

“Sorry, it’s just when someone’s shooting at me, I tend to shoot back.”

More shots came from Reynolds’ room, the bullets ricocheting off the doorframe.

“Well, at least he’s still alive,” Zaun said.

“We only want the keycard so we can leave this place,” Jack yelled, lying to Reynolds.

More shots rang out, hitting the doorframe and sending splinters of wood into the air.

“We’ve got to go in and get this guy,” Zaun said. “Any minute we could have armed men bearing down on us.”

“We’re coming in, Reynolds. Throw down your weapon or we’ll be forced to shoot.”

Jack waited. Nothing happened. No gunshots; no response.

He bent low, gun at the ready, and peered into the room. Reynolds wasn’t in his line of sight. Inching out a little farther, he was able to scan most of the room, no sign of the man. Reynolds could be in the bathroom or hiding behind the door.

“Watch my back,” Jack said. “Keep your eyes on the hall that leads to the bathroom.”

He went low, sliding along the floor into the room and had his gun pointing behind the door in seconds. The area was clear. He got to his feet and saw Zaun aiming his gun toward the bathroom.

Jack shut the room’s door.

Looking around, he saw there was no place for Reynolds to have hidden. The faux fireplace blazed away and an empty bottle of brandy was sitting on a small table in front of it.

Jack went over to the bathroom and kicked in the door, making sure to be out of the line of fire. When nothing happened, he peered into the lavatory and found it empty. Where the hell had Reynolds gone?

He walked back into the living room portion of the tiny apartment, picked up the empty bottle, and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered into tiny shards.

“Feel better?” Zaun asked.

Jack ignored his friend. Reynolds had an escape tunnel leading from the room. It was the only explanation for the man’s disappearance. The guy was probably in another part of the facility by now, arming himself or gathering infantry.

“He’s gone, Jack. Must’ve had a way out. A secret door or something. I don’t know if you want to try and find it or not, but we have to do something. We’re going to have company real soon. I say we head for his office and hope for the best.”