Louisa stirred. Her head throbbed and it took a large amount of effort to squeeze a single eye open. The flare of light as she did so sent shots of pain racing through her and she grimaced, quickly closing it again. She felt a hand slowly place itself on her shoulder, as a familiar voice issued a reassurance.
“You’ll be fine.” said Chris, softly. “Take your time and breathe normally.”
As Louisa shuffled into a more comfortable position, she realised she was wearing a respirator and breathing stale air. Her medical training caught her instinctive reaction to remove the mask and take a deep lungful of natural air, and she struggled down a panic-laden tremor.
“McDonald! Take care of her. When her breathing slows, give her a drink of water, but make sure she knows to be quick. I’ll go check Edwards again. Maybe he’s come down a little.”
Louisa’s head swam as Chris’ hazy form moved out of view. She squinted, desperate for her sight to clear, as another grey shape moved in front of her.
“Be careful there, doctor.” said Justin, as he gently lifted her into a seating position. “You’re suffering from a dose of hypoxia. You should try to keep your movements to a minimum.”
“Hypoxia?” she said, the word spluttering out.
Justin placed a hand on the small of her back and rubbed in long circles. “The filtration systems have been shut down. The air in the complex has risen to over six percent carbon dioxide. We’re lucky the thermal warnings started going off on the servers because the air-conditioning systems were out or I might not have noticed. Fortunately, I informed the colonel before he succumbed to the effect. You however, were not so lucky.” He reached into a bag and retrieved a silver water flask. “I’ll remove your mask, you drink. Try not to breathe too much of the air in. At these levels the air would kill you cold in four or five breaths. I take it everything you needed was in your duffel?”
“I think so.” Louisa said, gulping gratefully on the cold liquid as she tried to remember.
The last thing she could recall was being stood over the sensor desk in her lab, carefully wrapping her artefact in cloth to protect its priceless form from harm. She could remember trembling as she tried to work, tears flowing freely as she vainly attempted to push the image of her colleague lying motionless in the corridor from her thoughts.
It was all so different only a few days ago. Steven was a joy to work with. He was efficient, intelligent, charming, and witty. They spent hours hunched over their artefact, running the vast battery of tests scheduled, and never once did she have anything other than a smile on her face.
Steven’s lab skills were incredible. He was a machine. He was blessed with an innate ability to handle several tasks at once, and yet make every single one look easy.
They talked about many things as they worked. Steven about his prestigious medical career, and her about her time with the MOD.
Louisa stifled more tears, knowing the warm liquid would cloud her mask and make breathing difficult. Steven was due to be married in a few months, and the thought of the love now lost would not let her be. She tried to focus on happier times, on their friendship, and on her survival.
“I managed to get most of the information I needed.” said Justin, interrupting her reminiscences. “If I could have stood the heat in the room I could have turned off more servers, but it was like an oven in there. I only managed to turn off the master replication database. At least there should be a recoverable backup for the clear up crew.”
“Clear up crew?” Louisa asked, shuffling into a more comfortable position.
“The colonel said that he’d requested one before I contacted him. Said the ETA was about forty-five minutes. That should mean they’re about twenty minutes out.”
“Is the professor ok?”
“He’s still a little fuddled. He’s been saying how he’ll tunnel out if we want.” said Chris, returning and running a hand through his hair. “To be honest, I wish he’d just get on with it and shut up.”
Louisa smiled. It was probably the first time Chris had met the professor, and his irksome nature was difficult to deal with. Chris’ look of frustration back at Dave as he spoke underlined that their personas may not be perfectly matched.
Louisa encountered Dave shortly after her assignment to the base. As lead researcher, it fell to Dave to hold the weekly briefings. At the first such meeting after her arrival, Dave was all ceremony and self-assurance. He strutted around the conference room, gesticulating wildly, as often he did, and pontificating about how their work would change the world. It was clear he was a proud man, far too busy with his own sense of self-importance to care what others may think of him. As the days turned to weeks, especially after the MOD briefing stating that an unknown colonel was soon to be on site, his mood darkened. The weekly meetings stopped, and a much more serious tone descended. Perhaps he was afraid of the military taking over his project? Whatever the reason, his difficult demeanour only worsened from then on.
“What’s that noise?” Louisa asked, suddenly realising that the ringing in her ears was not an invention of her mind.
“That siren is reserved for breach protocol.” said Chris. “The server failure must have set off the bases’ containment systems. This whole place is sealed like a bank vault. Lifts, filters, air-con, lighting, the whole caboodle; it’s all off-line. We’re entombed in here. That’s why we’re in the gym. You think you’re up to some light exercise doctor?”
Louisa looked up at Chris. Without his arrival, she was certain they would all now be dead, but there was something else about him. One moment he was formal; a straight-laced military man. The next he was chirpy and warm, almost effervescently so. When he smiled, his face softened and took the harsh edges from his features. It was almost charming.
Before being given the position, Louisa was not the most exercise eager woman. Walking to the local restaurant in heels was about as energetic as she got. However, shortly after her assignment to the base, and enduring the constant late nights the work here brought, she found the gym was her oasis from the sometimes monotonous sampling work she was undertaking. She had never felt her figure was bad in any way, but after four short months of stair stepping and leg curls, her friends began to point out how good she was looking. Now, when the mood took her to look back through her photo albums, she could see what they were pointing out. After all the training, she never expected to be laid out in the gym with a respirator on. It was an irony not lost to her situation.
“If given a little assistance, I’m sure I’ll manage.” Louisa said, pushing herself up.
“Then we move. Justin, let’s get this party started.”
“If we’re trying to get out to the surface, why are we in the gym?”
“The ventilation system has stopped pumping air around the complex, but the main vents are situated in here. If we’re lucky, the vents and the pump are on separate loops and we can climb out through them, with a little effort, without having machinery blocking our escape. From the looks of things, we should be able to squeeze through the duct above the mirror on the back wall, but we really need someone to check if it can take the weight.” Chris said, smiling at Justin.
Louisa smirked, as Justin sighed his understanding and moved the respirator from his back, tucking it under his arm.
“Well volunteered, private.” said Chris, as he crouched and linked his fingers, creating a place for Justin to stand.
Justin placed a hand on the wall and carefully positioned his right foot on the centre of the brace, as Chris slowly heaved him upward.
Louisa watched as Chris held Justin effortlessly in place. His taught frame and broad shoulders not even straining under the weight, as Justin worked at the grate. One by one the screws that held it in place were removed, before it fell to the floor with a resonant clang.
“If you could just lift me a little higher, I will try to climb into the space.”
The opening looked tight, perhaps three feet wide and no more than eighteen inches hi
gh. Yet, merely moments of careful shimmying later, only Justin’s feet were protruding into the room.
“It seems stable enough, colonel. I detect no movement from the support structure.”
“That’s reassuring. What can you see?” asked Chris, his tone calm and commanding.
“The ventilation continues for about another twenty feet before making a ninety degree turn to the right.”
“See if you can reach the turn and then let us know what you can see from there.”
A few muffled thumps later, Justin’s feet disappeared.
Louisa had not had chance to speak with Private McDonald so far. He arrived only a few days ago, and was so absorbed in his system checks and other preparatory work for the arrival of Colonel Martin that he was never in the canteen for more than a few minutes. However, even after watching him for this brief period it was clear he was unfazed by what was occurring. Maybe he was not the man his physical appearance suggested.
“Louisa? How is he?” asked Chris, turning back from the grate and pointing to Dave.
Louisa moved across and gently took hold of Dave’s wrist, looking into his unsteady eyes. His breathing was laboured, but his pulse was strong and rhythmic. At the light contact, his grimace softened to a smile.
“He’s suffering from respiratory shock and in a pain, but other than the symptoms of a hang-over, he’ll be fine.”
“Colonel!”
Justin’s echoed voice resonated around the small room and made Chris turn. “Yes, private.”
“I’ve reached the end and can see that the vent continues at ninety degrees for another thirty feet before ascending.”
“We’re just going to have to do the best we can. See if the climb is impossible and if not, continue. Only shout if you have to stop.” said Chris, as he walked over to Dave. He placed a hand underneath his armpit, and slowly lifted him to his feet. “Will you be ok, professor?”
“I’ll be a damn sight better once I’m outside in the fresh air!” said Dave, wheezing.
Chris helped Dave over to the vent and carefully hoisted him up. He scrambled a little, but eventually began his trek after Justin.
“It’s your turn, Louisa.” said Chris, facing her with a wide smile. “Keep moving and don’t worry about anything. I’ll be right behind you.”
The cold air of the shaft sent chills down her spine as Louisa wriggled forward. Her tennis shoes squealed against the polished aluminium casing and echoed around the cramped space. She had never felt claustrophobia before, yet here, trapped in a metal tube and on the run from the invisible assassin of carbon dioxide, she could understand the sensation. It was torture. She held her nerve as best she could, focussing on her training and keeping her mind on the minutia of the task.
At the turn, the shaft opened out, and although the space removed the oppressive pressure that squeezed against her lungs, it made the upwards climb more difficult.
To Louisa’s amazement, the men made good progress and watching them spurred her on. She would not be taking assistance from anyone. Once at the top, the vent continued horizontally for another forty feet before she could make out light ahead. As she drew closer, she could see it was opening out into another chamber.
When Louisa arrived, Justin helped her from another grate. As she stood up, she could see the room housed the main filtration system for their levels.
A massive air-conditioning system sat at its centre and on the far wall was a door. A rubber housing, one that once connected the conditioner to the vent, lay discarded to her side, and Dave was slouched in one corner, the exertion of the climb taking its toll on his already weakened body. Behind his mask, his face dripped with sweat and his usually neat hair was matted and bedraggled.
“Have you checked the exit, private?” said Chris, effortlessly gliding into the room.
“I have, colonel. It leads out to the base’s lift well and the service ladder. I was going to suggest we use it, but if my understanding of Breach Protocol is correct, the exit will be locked. That’s a four-foot thick, bomb door. We’d never manage to get out that way.”
“We don’t have to, private. The lift will lead up through the first level and that’s a separate clean room. It will have its own service door and its own air system. We can use the ladder to get to the first and then use that floor’s ducts to get to the surface.” said Chris, as he turned to the group. “In a moment we are going to leave this room through that door and make our way up the service ladder to the first subfloor. Hopefully, we’ll find another vent system that will allow us to exit this complex to the surface.”
“How far is the climb?” asked Dave, as he struggled to his feet.
“No more than a hundred and fifty feet. We should be able to do it in five or so minutes.”
Dave shook his head. “Twenty years ago maybe, but not in the state I’m in.”
“We’ve got no margin for error here, professor. I simply cannot risk us taking these masks off. We have no idea if the shutdown was just for our lab or the entire base. I suggest you all check your levels and make up your minds how long you want to take over this.”
Dave grabbed his gauge and gulped. “Maybe ten minutes.”
“Good. Now remember,” said Chris, sounding like a drill sergeant, “climb steadily and don’t concentrate on what you’re doing. We push from our legs, we do not drag with our hands. And whatever you do, do not look down.”
Chris opened the door and the positive pressure of the lift shaft blew around him as he looked out into the dimly lit shaft. On the wall to his side was a service ladder. Made with wide support bars and a half-ring back protector, it seemed perfect for easy climbing. Indicating to the group for them to follow, he set off.
Louisa was the first out. As she climbed, she never looked back, but could tell from the heavy footfalls that the rest of the group were climbing steadily.
The metal bars were dusty from lack of use and occasionally blobs of grease fallen from the lift cables made Louisa’s grip unsure. However, none of this seemed to slow Chris down. Chris was at least fifty feet higher than her already, leaning over to a service door located near the top of the lift well. There was a gratifying click as it opened without force and he made his way inside.
A few moments later, Louisa reached the level of the door and stretched out around the frame. Chris extended an arm and helped her into another room, similar in layout to the one recently vacated.
One by one, the other members of the group arrived. As soon as Justin made his way into the room, Chris led him over to the grate on the far wall and the pair quickly removed the mass, before Chris slid into the casing beyond on his back. A few moments of welcome respite later, he arrived back.
“One tight turn and then a twenty foot climb and I can see daylight on the far wall through another grate. When you’re ready, you can join me in the outside world.”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I really need some fresh air.” Louisa said, as she turned to Justin. “Make sure the professor gets out, won’t you?”
Justin nodded, and Louisa took that as all the confirmation she needed. She climbed into the vent in the same way as Chris and glided on her back to the upward turn.
Above her in the shaft, Louisa could see Chris was already at the grate, busily working to remove it. She managed to strain her way up no more than ten feet before he was sending it tumbling outwards and climbing his way into the open.
As Louisa continued to struggle upward, echoed voices drifted into the space.
“It’s all right gentlemen. I’m Colonel Martin. You can put down the weapons.”
“Sorry sir, we assumed you’d be someone else.” drifted a distant reply.
Louisa wriggled up the last few feet, until she eventually reached a position where she could see outside. The vent led into the underground car park of the complex. Daylight drifted down a ramp opposite and forced her vision to blur, as her eyes readjusted to the brightness. She could
see several parked cars in front of her and a military jeep at the top of the ramp. There were two men in the space with Chris. Wearing combat slacks, they made their way cautiously down from the ramp, assault rifles at their sides.
“Is a clean-up crew on its way?” asked Chris, slowly approaching the men.
Even though Louisa had only met Chris an hour ago, she could tell from his posture something was not right. She continued to watch, apprehension locking her motionless.
“Not yet sir, but we can organise one if you’d like.” one of the men replied, glancing sidelong at his companion.
“They’ll have plenty to do.” said Chris, with a chuckle. “Are you two the only ones here?”
“For the moment sir, yes.”
“Good.”
In a flash, Chris removed the gun from his jacket and fired. The first bullet ripped through the chest of the man to the left, spraying blood as it exited his back, and sending him tumbling across the ramp. The second man tried to raise his weapon, but could not react quickly enough as the next bullet blew his face apart.
“What the hell is happening out there?” said Justin, as the gunshots echoed down the shaft.
As Chris turned and headed back toward them with a fierce scowl, Louisa was not sure she wanted to find out.
Chapter 8