Frank lowered his weapon. “You know what, I don’t give a damn who’s a traitor and who isn’t. All I want is to get out of here alive. So, how about we agree to work together and get our asses to the surface. Then we can go our separate ways?”
Lightfoot didn’t move, but Benson signaled his agreement by holstering his weapon. Carson stepped away from Selena, but the irritation in his eyes let Frank know who the other traitor was. The relieved look on Selena’s face was normal given the circumstances, or so he told himself.
Chapter 14 –
Arthur felt the tension in the room and didn’t know what to do. Situations like this always made his bladder weak. He wanted to be strong, but things were out of control. It was bad enough before, but now they had to worry about the people sent to rescue them.
He remembered why he and Smith vacated the last level so quickly. “Guys, I know things are a bit crazy right now, but we need to keep moving. First, our air filters have a limited amount of time on them, second there’s enough Semtex downstairs to turn this place into a pile of dust.”
Frank looked at him. “Are you sure? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I’m positive, there were timers attached to go off in an hour, but they weren’t triggered, at least not when we found them.”
Frank went over to talk to another one of his team and Benson edged to the side. Arthur kept an eye on him, waiting for him to throw one of them under the bus for his benefit. The other member of the group came up to him and he noticed a large wound on the man’s leg.
“Hey, you’re, Dr. Covington, right? I’m Carson.” The man stuck out his hand and Arthur shook it.
Arthur didn’t respond, this man held a gun to a woman’s head a few moments prior. For some reason, he didn’t think of him as trustworthy. He nodded and pretended to adjust the strap on his Sig.
“What did you mean about that guy and Dixon?” Carson asked him.
Arthur glanced toward Benson and decided he couldn’t hear him. “One of the levels we reached was swarming with contaminated. Dixon went in to take care of a small room so we could load up on weapons. I guess while he was in there something happened, he must have been infected somehow. Before it took control of him, Benson tossed him to a hungry horde so he could make a getaway.”
“Thanks.” Carson walked toward Benson and shoved him against the wall.
“Dixon was my friend, you prick, his job was to protect you, and you fed him to those things. You deserve to die.” Carson punched Benson in the stomach, and then kneed him in the face, cracking his mask.
Arthur watched as Benson struggled to keep his mask together. The others ran over and grabbed Carson by the arms.
“What the hell are you doing, Carson?” Frank asked.
“This guy handed Dixon over to the nasties
“Lightfoot, hold on to him,” Frank said, “Benson, how’s the mask?”
When he lifted his head, two pieces came apart in his hand and bits of plastic fell to the floor. His face was red from holding his breath, but a second later, he sucked in a lungful of air.
“Dr. Covington, get over here,” Frank yelled.
Arthur glanced around as if making sure he was the person he was talking to. He walked over and stopped about three feet away.
“Yes…” Arthur said in a timid voice.
“Relax, I’m not going to kill you, but I need you to watch Benson for any signs of…you know…being infected.”
Arthur nodded. “You do know the only sign I’m aware of is rising from the dead at this point.”
A feminine voice chimed in. “Oh there’s lots, blood comes out of their eyes and nose, then they start to suffocate on it and die. Then they reanimate.”
The smile on her face made Arthur’s testicles crawl up inside of him. Who the hell was she? He moved away from her and focused on Benson. The man was pissed off and swearing a blue streak. Lightfoot held him in place, but Arthur guessed in a few minutes that something would happen.
A moan came from the kitchen area and Frank spun with his gun aimed. “Did we clear the prep area?” he asked the others.
No one answered him.
“Damn it, people, did we clear the kitchen?” Frank raised his voice.
Silence greeted him once again and Arthur could see the sag of his shoulders. “Fine, Smith, how good are you with that?” He pointed at the weapon in her hands.
“Good enough,” she said in a cocky tone.
“Wonderful, you’re with me. Lightfoot, you kill Benson if he dies and tries to eat anyone. Carson, you stay with the others and try to behave.”
Lightfoot pushed Carson onto a couch with a look that spoke volumes. Carson smirked back at him. Arthur stared at Benson who kept eyeing the door to go up, and then he was off.
Without thinking, Arthur raised his Sig and shot Benson in the leg. He jogged over to him and put the muzzle of the gun in his face. “Get back over there. You’re not getting away this time.”
Arthur caught Frank’s nod of approval from the corner of his eye. For some reason, this made Arthur feel better, though he would never admit it. He didn’t want to be the kind of man who felt good about shooting another human being. He trailed after the injured Benson and watched him closely for any indication that he was about to become a contaminated.
The crazy woman came up next to him with a smile he knew far too well, he was about to get manipulated. He stared at the floor with the hope less eye contact would limit the amount of information he gave up. The blood trail caught his eye as Benson dragged his leg. What should have been bright red from a fresh injury was dark in color and congealing fast, as if it were hours old.
“Excuse me, Dr. Covington, did you hear me?” she asked in an annoyed tone.
“What? No, sorry I didn’t. Do you see that blood trail? It isn’t right. He’s showing signs of being contaminated.”
The woman’s face paled and she pulled her weapon out. Arthur put his hand on it and lowered it so she shot into the floor and not Benson’s head.
“What did you do that for, we need to kill him before he kills us,” she said in a voice bordering on hysterical.
“You crazy bitch, what the hell is wrong with you. I’m not dead yet.” Benson pulled out his Glock, but Arthur knocked it out of the weak man’s hand easily.
“We need to observe him to see if anything else happens, we need the data” Arthur hissed.
“Scientists and their precious data, I’ll never understand it,” she said.
“I’m not a lab rat, dammit!” Benson yelled.
“You are now, and when the time comes, we’ll be whole lot more humane than you were to Dixon,” Arthur replied.
Arthur wanted to ask the woman what she meant about scientists, since she worked in a research facility. The gathering of information, no matter how small or inconsequential was necessary. If she didn’t understand it, what was she doing here?
They made their way back to the couch. Carson didn’t move to help them, so Arthur lifted Benson onto the couch with awkward jerky movements. When he finished, the woman grabbed him by the arm and pulled him several feet away.
“We need to talk. My name is Selena, you have to trust me.”
Arthur never liked hearing those words from a woman; from his experience nothing good ever came of it.
