Chapter 10
The scientists and researchers who worked at the training facility and main Arklay lab rarely explored the premises and had no reason to walk the perimeter of the property, so few of them were aware that both labs, as well as the chemical treatment plant, were surrounded by chain link fence topped with barbed wire. “No Trespassing” signs were posted every twenty feet. Although hikers were common in the Arklay Mountain area, none of the posted hiking trails went anywhere near the Umbrella facilities. But if the secluded area, fence, and signs were not enough to dissuade casual travelers from coming near the compound, there was always the extensive system of security cameras and legion of armed guards on patrol.
Marcus was interrupted from his work one afternoon by a ringing security phone. When he answered, one of the guards at the treatment plant gave him some very interesting information.
“Sir, we have a trespasser in custody.”
Marcus sat up in his chair. “Where?”
“Sector Three, sir.”
“Is the area secure?”
“Yes, sir.”
Marcus hunched forward, leaning on the desk with one arm. Sector Three was the west half of the treatment plant, deep inside the perimeter. There was no way for anyone to make it that far by accident; the trespasser must have climbed a fence to get in, and that meant he did so on purpose. If he made it to the treatment plant, he might have seen something.
“What should we do, sir? Do you want us to call Dr. Spencer?”
“No, we don’t need to bother him with this.”
Marcus took a deep breath. The treatment plant was top secret, so much so that even the majority of the scientists at the lab didn’t know what was done there. Who knew what the trespasser might have seen, what he might have witnessed? Marcus would have to find out who let the trespasser get so close. The security cameras should have spotted him long before he made it inside the fence.
“What do you want us to do with him?” the guard asked.
“Bring him to my lab,” Marcus said. “I’ll take care of him.” He hung up the phone before the guard could acknowledge the instructions.
It took Marcus a few minutes to calm his nerves. He got up and began to pace the lab room, his slippers sliding against the floor as he walked. An intruder was a rare event, but usually harmless. Some adventurous hiker daring to go off the trails, or a hunter following a trophy buck. But they had never caught someone inside the fence before. Marcus found himself dreading the thought of someone seeing a truckload of infected lab animals marked for disposal, or something even more incriminating.
The treatment plant had its dirty little secrets, some dirtier than most.
But what could he do? He wondered why he told the guards to bring the intruder to him. They would have searched and interrogated him quite thoroughly already, so why bring him to the lab?
In the back of his mind, however, Marcus knew why. It was the same reason people craned their necks when they drove by violent car accidents. The same reason supposedly conservative women read trashy romance novels. The same reason that middle-aged men volunteered to coach high school girls’ basketball. It was a twisted desire for the unknown, a hidden obsession with what you cannot have. The forbidden fruit. Marcus found himself sweating and had to wipe his forehead with his sleeve. He knew why he had ordered the guards to bring the intruder there, he just did not want to admit it to himself.
The most important thing now was to make sure Spencer didn’t find out.
Half an hour later, the guards brought the trespasser. He was dressed in khaki pants with mud-stained knees and a brown long-sleeved shirt. His hands were cuffed behind him and a black cloth bag was tied over his head. The guards placed him in a small observation cell, roughly sitting him down on a simple wooden chair in the middle of the room. After the guards gave Marcus the details of the intruder’s capture, he dismissed them.
The security guards were of no concern. They were well-trained and fervently loyal to Umbrella, as obedient as military soldiers in a secret, black-ops outfit. Which was the way it should be, since the Umbrella guards were frequently exposed to extremely confidential information and entrusted with protecting the company’s most-treasured secrets. They followed their orders and asked no questions.
Marcus stepped inside the observation cell and put his hands in the front pockets of his lab coat, letting the door swing open behind him. The intruder looked up at the sound, although he could not see because of the bag tied over his head.
“What’s your name?” Marcus asked conversationally.
“Listen, I don’t know what you think is going on here,” the man said quickly, “but you have no right to do this to me. Those goons of yours violated my civil rights back there. You have no right to do this. Take this bag off my head and let me call my lawyer.”
He went on like that for a minute before Marcus stopped him. “You are trespassing on government property, my boy. You don’t have a right to anything at this point.”
“You can’t do this to me, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was just walking in the woods, and –”
“You climbed over a fence with signs posted.”
“That fence looked decades old! How could I know that it was still there for a reason? I didn’t think anyone owned this land!”
“Well, someone does. You were taking pictures too, weren’t you?”
“I had a camera, so what? I was just taking pictures of the woods and stuff! Those guards of your exposed the film anyway.”
“They said you ran from them.”
“If guys with machine guns started chasing you, wouldn’t you run too?”
Marcus crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. This intruder, whatever his name was, was not telling the whole truth, that much was obvious. He carried no identification, which is why they didn’t know his name, and his story did not seem very likely. Marcus reminded himself to order someone to check the condition of the fence. Perhaps it did look too old to still be in use. But one of the guards said that the man took at least one picture of the treatment plant itself. He was not some random hiker, he was there for a reason.
“Listen, my boy,” Marcus said, trying to sound fatherly, “You’re in a lot of trouble here. This is private government property and you willingly trespassed onto it. You’re lucky the guards didn’t shoot you on sight.”
“No, you listen,” the trespasser interrupted, “I have rights, and you can’t just arrest me for no reason. You can’t keep this stupid bag over my head, either. Now, you let me out of here, or I’ll bring a lawsuit against you so big your whole company will go bankrupt.”
That, at least, made Marcus chuckle. “I really don’t think so. You’re not going anywhere, at least not anytime soon.”
“I didn’t see anything, okay? Those guys wrecked my camera and I didn’t see anything, so whatever you’re doing here is still a secret. Just let me go, cause you have no right keeping me here,” he said, but the resolve in his voice was beginning to fade.
Marcus shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough. You broke the law, my boy. You intentionally trespassed onto a secret military installation,” he said, stretching the lie a little bit further, “and that is a crime against the government. You just committed treason.”
“This is ridiculous!” the man cried desperately. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You committed treason,” Marcus repeated. “Did you know that crime carries the death penalty?”
“The death penalty ... ?” the man said, his voice trailing to a whisper.
“But I will do one thing for you,” Marcus said. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll take the bag off your head.” He untied the rope and pulled the bag off, revealing the man’s face. He stared up at Marcus with wide, scared eyes, but said nothing. Marcus tossed the bag into the corner. “But you might wish I’d left it on,” he said as he turned to go out
the door.
Sitting on the floor in the hallway was a small metal container about the size of a shoe box. With his foot, Marcus slid it into the observation room. He reached down and removed the front panel before leaving, the door clicking shut loudly when it closed. The man stared in terror at the metal box.
When four of Marcus’ leeches crawled out of the box, he began screaming. He kept screaming until the leeches killed him, and then some time after they had killed him, he began to moan.