Experiment VII

Chapter Forty-Five: Alone

      I tune out the myriad of questions forming in my mind relating to the commotion that occurred not two seconds ago. Now is not the time. Instead, I wrack my brain for ideas as my eyes sweep around my surroundings. Whatever has just happened out there, there are probably more of them.

     The fully armoured corpse propped up against the wall catches my attention, and at about the same time, a half-baked plan enters my mind. A plan which...might work. Maybe.

     Scurrying over to the doorway, I wrap my fingers around its frame and peek my head out. A pent-up sigh escapes me when my head does not get blown off straight away.

     Several bodies litter the floor, pools of blood coating the space between them. With Rychner's corpse not being among them, the odds of his survival increase, however minimal. My instincts scream at me not to go back out there, but unfortunately, it's exactly what I need to do.

I'm on my own now.

     Tucking myself back into the room, I grimace as the door squeaks in protest as it closes. With the half-rotted floorboards below me, the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the floor is clearly audible from my position. Not having time to ponder its origin, I waste no time in stripping the man lying on the floor of his armour and putting it on myself. A few minutes elapse of me fumbling around the straps, but eventually, I fully clad myself in the armour. I hold the practically featureless black helmet to my ear, a mix of radio static and voices breaking through pulses through an in-built comm system.

     A voice crackles through the static again as soon as I shove the helmet over my head.

"-ive one in the east wing, ground floor. I repeat we've got a live one in the east wing, ground floor."

     My heartbeat quickens in anticipation, as I grab the dead man's gun off the floor and secure the two spare mags on my belt. Looking at the M4 in my hands forces a slight grin over my features. This is more like it.

     Rushing out the door, I try my best not to slam it behind me with the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Trying to keep silent with my nerves jumping all over the place doesn't go hand in hand. Nonetheless, I try my best not to trip over my boots immediately after stepping out into the hallway.

     I carefully manoeuvre myself over the pile of corpses and make my way to the opposite room where Rychner was. It's almost identical to the one I was in previously and with no sign of Rychner. My eyes land on a small puddle of blood seeping into the floorboards when another voice buzzes through the intercom.

"Converging on target's position now. Heads on swivels boys, there could be more of 'em."

     I stumble the rest of the way towards the stairs before barrelling down them at top speed. Miraculously, I make it to the end without tumbling or snapping my neck.

     Dashing down the hallway, my feet slamming on the wooden floor below me becomes inaudible, drowned out by the sound of heavy gunfire ricocheting off the walls up ahead.

     An air of unease washes over me. I quicken my pace but otherwise choose to ignore it, shoving all doubts back into the deep corners of my mind.

     The hallway eventually opens up into what used to be the makeshift med bay. A handful of tables previously used for beds are tipped on their sides, presumably for cover. Several dark-armoured men also come into view, rapidly bringing me to a halt. The urge to cover my ears grows strong as they pepper one of the fallen tables at the far side of the room in a hail of bullets.

     Some of the gunfire dies down as a few of them go to reload. Taking full advantage of this opportunity and their backs being turned to me, I level my weapon at them.

     Staring down the iron sights, I pick my first target and fix the barrel of my gun in his direction. My hands begin to quaver, making me clench the grip tighter. I take a steadying breath before squeezing the trigger.

     It would appear all the extra hours of target practise Rychner's brother, Rilo, forced me to do, have finally paid off. A blinding flash emanates from the muzzle of my gun. Three of my opponents crumple to the ground in quick succession as each precise burst of bullets thunks home into their armoured bodies. A spray of pink mist briefly lingers in the air where they once stood.

     Only two remain, but as I go to take another shot my rifle merely produces a soft click as opposed to a loud bang. A panicked set of reattempts yield the same results. Nothing. My eyes instantly widen in realization.

     The gun's jammed.

     The two remaining Umbra agents turn around.

     I cannot afford to give the great sense of dread and horror welling in me any more time to fester. The first man pauses, presumably taken aback by what appears to be one of his comrades pointing a gun at him. With its primary function rendered useless, I chuck my dysfunctional gun at one of their heads. Perhaps it's not completely dysfunctional, as his helmet practically splits in two with a satisfying crack that echoes through the med-bay. The man topples over instantaneously. Perhaps it wasn't his helmet that made that cracking noise.

Ah, the benefits of super-strength.

     I vaguely register another voice announcing through the intercom, "Team two making entry."

     Not having any extra time to waste basking in my small victory, I charge towards the last man standing. This one doesn't hesitate. He manages to get a shot off before the distance between us closes. Searing hot pain shoots through my shoulder, but it barely slows my advance. I tackle him to the floor, not giving him a chance to fire again.

     Movement proves difficult with the entanglement of limbs, but I manage to pry his gun from him, only to have it knocked out of my hands almost immediately. The memory of my knife rushes to mind. I hastily yank it out from the sheath in my boot, but just as I plant it into his chest, another sudden pain erupts in the back of my head. Despite whatever amount of protection my helmet offers, the world fades to black within the blink of an eye.

     I must've missed one.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There are only so many left...

-ѕиιρєявαιт