Mechanical Gods (lgbtq+)

Chapter Thirty-Three: Escape

     Tyler heard the first scream, and then the bullets blazed. Far in the distance, maybe two corners away from them, the soldiers held a fierce battle.

     And it sounded like they were losing.

     More screams emanated down the hall, and it never ceased.

     There was hardly any light that they could see through the dark corridor. Zenko and Olsen's flashlights were their only source of light.

     "Zenko, what's the holdup, man?" Olsen said nervously. He had his one knee to the ground and his rifle aimed at the far side of the hall. Sweat licked his forehead and face.

     Zenko didn't answer.

     "Hurry it up!" Olsen added.

     "I'm trying! I'm trying!" Zenko said, holding his datapad on his hand with a wire connected to the panel. "It should be working!"

     "Then why isn't the fucking door opening, genius?" Olsen seethed.

     "Jesus Christ, can't you see it's not going to work?" Amanda growled, pushing Zenko away from the panel.

     "We got it working a while ago!"

     "Its because he wanted it that way. He wanted you all here!" Amanda snapped.

     Oh god. 

     Tyler's knees weakened. "Its coming closer," he told the others.

     "Hey, do you know how to fire a gun?" Olsen asked Tyler.

     "I--uh, when I was a kid, yeah. But that was a long time ago."

     Olsen nodded. He pulled out his handgun and gave it to Tyler's trembling hands. "Safety here. Aim here. I reckon you already know which point can kill?" Olsen slyly grinned.

     Tyler nodded. "Y--yes."

     "Good. Aim for the far corner. Anyone who appears like an Android, we shoot it. Understand?"

     Tyler hesitated, but he nodded eventually. He aimed further into the dark corners of the hallway. Olsen checked up on Amanda and Zenko continually trying to hack the panel. There were no answers on the intercom from Gideon Reese, Toby, and the others.

     Tense. Head cocked. Listening. Screams continued to reverberate down the hall, and Tyler stood utterly still, expectant for signs of danger.

     He didn't know how long he waited with the others, listening to the howls and screeches, and the bullets that cut in between. But the silence did come after. A strangling, calculated silence. Trouble often followed after that silence, and would soon develop a moment of respite.

     Following the last stifling cries and the soft thump, silence sifted down with the seeping chill. The hush was eerily deep. The calm before the storm's pounce, and the quietude of a coiling snake. 

     Tyler could feel an entity stood behind the corridor to his left. Someone was standing as motionless as he was standing, intently listening. He could sense the predatory presence, a subtle pressure in the air, not dissimilar to that preceding a violent thunderstorm.

     Olsen felt it, too.

     "Zenko. On me," he said.

     Zenko pulled himself away from the panel and stood a little behind to Olsen's right. He aimed his rifle forward. Olsen signaled to Tyler to get back.

     Confident that the corridor was no longer safe, Tyler padded back to the elevator door with Amanda. In spite of the darkness and the only sources of light were from the men's helmets and rifles, his eyes had adjusted to it for staying in the halls for too long, and now he eased through the gloom with no fear of blundering on his steps.