Deep Down (Sam Stone Book 1) (13 page)

Beside her, Jenny heard Stone struggling with the restraints that bound him to the cot, but she was too busy searching the room for Dr. Fasstine to watch Stone’s progress.  The doctor was not in the dining cavern as far as she could see and that meant that he had not yet started with the sedative injections, for which she was eternally grateful.  

As her eyes scanned the room, she couldn’t help but notice the remaining visitors and museum staff, all laid out on cots just like the one she was strapped to.  And all of them were in very bad shape.  Very few looked to be coherent.  Several were moaning and holding their heads, and Jenny was afraid she knew all too well what would happen to them in the next few minutes.  Others were covered in oozing lesions, as if the toxins were now present within their bodies in such high concentrations that they were beginning to move outward from the internal organs and into the bodies largest external organ, the skin.

Anger boiled within her at seeing these people in such horrible condition.  The CDC had, presumably, been sent to help these victims, but instead they’d delayed treatment until it was probably too late and, on top of that, they’d cut off the oxygen supply and the means to leave the mines in order to seek life-saving medical attention elsewhere. Now they were practically personally signing these peoples’ death warrants by administering a “merciful” sedative. 

There was a soft popping sound to her left, and then Stone’s low grunt of satisfaction.

“One down, one to go,” he muttered so softly that Jenny could barely make out his words.

She glanced over to see him half rise from his prone position and use his now free right hand to reach over to catch hold of the restrain on this left wrist and pull.  Jenny watched in wonder as his biceps bulged and the ridged muscles down his side stood out in sharp relief against the soft material of his shirt.

A moment later, the restraint snapped apart as if it were made of paper, and Stone quickly rolled off of the cot and crouched, his eyes doing a fast sweep of the room before he duck-walked to her side, keeping low.

“This might hurt a little,” he said as he grasped the restrain that tied her left arm to the cot and pulled.  The restraint bit harshly into her wrist for a moment, as it was stressed beyond capacity, then with a soft pop, it gave way and her arm was free.

Stone did the same thing with her other wrist.  His big calloused hands then gently chafed the red marks where the plastic restraints had bit into her wrists as his eyes surveyed the room.

“We need to find a couple of weapons and get to that phone before its too late,” he whispered to her.  “You ready?”

Jenny nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Stone stopped rubbing her wrists and stood, helping her to her feet in one smooth motion, and they both started toward the exit to the dining cavern.  There were no armed men in black inside the dining cavern, nor any of the other men in the white quarantine suits, to raise the alarm.  Jenny thought that was probably due to the fact that there was no one in the room with a chance of walking out of there under their own power, with the exception of herself and Stone, and they’d been restrained.  To the CDC, there’d been no reason to watch the room at all.

Fortunately for her, they didn’t know Stone.  Despite the gruesome scene around her, she felt her mouth tip up into a thin smile.  Stone was a force to be reckoned with.

Jenny passed by all five of the security guards on her way to the exit, each one laid out on his own cot. Every millimeter of their exposed skin was covered in nasty looking lesions and red gaping sores.  The sores wept blood and a slightly green tinted fluid that gave off a putrid odor.  As she passed by John’s cot, the man surprised her by opening his eyes and reaching out a shaking hand to stop their progress. 

He was too far away to actually touch either of them, but his questing hand caught Stone’s attention.

“Heard what… Dr. Shean… said.  You’ve got to… do… something,” John wheezed.

“We plan to,” Stone assured him.

“Didn’t know… their plan… until… too late. My gun. Still on my belt.  They didn’t… take it… from me,” John choked on a weak laugh. “No need… I guess. Not like… I’m any… threat.  But you… can use… it.”

Stone nodded and stepped forward to carefully remove the gun from John’s holster.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t… thank me… yet.  Just hurry,” John gasped out, every word a tremendous effort.

Jenny reached out to take his hand, grasping it tightly between her own.  “We will.  We’ll hurry.  Just hang on, John. Hang on, you hear me?”

John nodded and closed his eyes, looking as if the effort to hold them open was just too much for him. “I’ll... try,” he whispered.

His hand went limp in hers, and for one horrifying moment, she thought he’d died.  Stone must’ve had the same thought, because he reached down to check the man’s pulse.

“He’s still alive.  He’s just passed out. Let’s go,” Stone said.

Jenny gently laid John’s hand down, nestling it carefully along his side to avoid jostling his oozing sores, and then quickly followed after Stone, wishing that there was something more she could do for the guard, yet knowing her best chance of helping him lay with the phone near the lift.

Stone palmed John’s gun, a well-maintained Sig Sauer 1911, as they neared the exit.  By the set of his shoulders and the determined expression upon his face, she could tell that, this time, he was taking no chances.  As they cleared the two metal dividers that acted as a gate of sorts for the exit, he brought the gun up, swinging it side to side as he visually searched their exit route.

A millisecond later, Jenny’s eardrums were hammered by a sound wave as Stone fired and shot one of the black clad men who had accosted them earlier. The man had rounded the bend in the tunnels that led to the caverns just as she and Stone had cleared the metal dividers.

The man dropped like a rock, going immediately limp, blood spurting from a wound at center mass. The gun that had been clutched in the man’s hand fell uselessly to the floor. Beside him, Dr. Fasstine looked shell-shocked.

“Drop those syringes, Doctor, and put your hands up where I can see them clearly. Don’t even twitch, or you’ll join your friend there on the ground,” Stone said, his angry voice echoing harshly along the sparkling tunnel walls.

“Running off in to the tunnels will do you no good this time. We’ve just finished taking new measurements of the usable oxygen in the air. The oxygen levels are dropping dramatically for some reason.  Much faster than expected.  Our measurements show that it will be depleted in just over three hours,” the doctor said sourly, though his voice trembled with suppressed fear in the all-encompassing silence of the tunnel.

Stone smiled, “That’s why I’m borrowing your buddy’s oxygen and mask, and why Jenny will be borrowing yours.”

Dr. Fasstine took a hasty step back but Stone took aim at his chest with the 1911, and the man stopped and stood stock still, allowing the syringes to slip from his gloved fingers and fall to the floor.

“You can’t do that.  I would be exposed and infected,” the doctor pleaded.

“Perhaps that will motivate you to try to help find a cure, then,” Jenny told the doctor.  “You’ve done nothing to help them so far.”

“That’s not true.  I’ve done everything that I was allowed to do to help,” the doctor said, his voice rising to a grating whine. “I was the one who suggested the sedatives.  The injections will take away their pain.  It is a mercy.”

Jenny couldn’t hold back the snort that erupted from her mouth.  “A mercy?  You think forcibly shooting them up and taking away their last chance at survival is a mercy? Perhaps we should use one of those shots on you after we remove your source of oxygen and see how merciful you find it then, Doctor.”

“No, please,” he shook his head beneath his hood. “You don’t have to resort to that.”

“Don’t worry, we need you for a few moments more,” Stone said as he stepped forward toward the doctor, then grabbed the man’s shoulder and hauled him around until he was facing the direction of the lift.  Stone then grabbed the man’s left arm, twisting it up behind the doctor’s back as far as the bulky suit would allow.

The doctor groaned, but Jenny felt no sympathy for him.  He’d been willing to kill them both, and let the others die in their sleep, all without lifting a hand to find a cure.  He hadn’t even tried to find a treatment that would delay the effects that the bacteria were having upon their hosts’ bodies.  No, the man deserved anything that Stone could dish out, and more.

“Walk, and don’t get any ideas. Your suit cannot protect you from the bullets in this gun.  And, you’d better hope that your friends are not quite so mercenary as you are, or you’re going to be in real trouble.”

Stone began to frog-marched the doctor toward the lift, and Jenny quickly crouched to relieve the doctor’s fallen companion of his mask, oxygen tank, gun and stun baton, then quickly caught up to Stone.  At his back, she kept an eye out behind them for any threats.

The man’s gun, a Kimber .380 Stinger, felt good in her hand even though it was slightly too big for her grip, and she was glad to have some form of protection again, though she’d have preferred her own .38 revolver.

“Go ahead and put on the mask and tank so you don’t have to carry it. I’ll use the doctor’s oxygen after we make our phone call. If there’s trouble ahead, you’ll need both hands free to fire your weapon,” Stone told her over his shoulder, then slowed his pace a little so that she could comply.

Jenny quickly slipped the mask on, tossed the hose that it was attached to over her shoulder so that it would be out of the way, then secured the oxygen tank awkwardly by its sling-like strap over her other shoulder.  She stuffed the stun baton into her back pocket carefully, then palmed the Kimber.

“Got it,” Jenny said, her voice muffled by the mask, and followed along as Stone resumed his fast pace toward the lift.  The oxygenated air felt wonderful inside her lungs as it replaced the thick, stagnant air of the mines.  She breathed a small sigh of relief as the tight asthmatic feeling that she’d borne all evening faded a little.

In moments, they were rounding the corner near the lift, and Jenny tensed in preparation, all of her muscles ready for a confrontation.

Stone entered first, pushing the doctor ahead of him, making sure that anyone in front of them would be able to see the gun he held to the man’s head.

Three black-suited sentries stood near the lift. They turned toward Stone in unison when they caught the movement of the doctor’s forced entrance.

One of them went for the weapon at his hip, but Stone’s hard voice stopped the man cold, “Do it, and the doctor dies.  And so do you.”

The men all slowly raised their hands in a mutual gesture of surrender.

“Step away from the phone on the wall and stand together near the lift’s gate.  Keep your hands where I can see them at all times.  If I even see you
twitch,
things are going to get ugly, real quick,” Stone’s voice brooked no argument, and the three wisely listened to his instructions, following them to the letter as they shambled slowly toward the lift, keeping their hands in the air.

“Jenny, pick up the phone and dial this number, 316-875-4332.  Ask for Dave,” Stone told her. “And tell me if you hear multiple clicks before you’re connected.  That would mean that the CDC has control of the line and is rerouting it.”

She kept the Kimber pointed at the men with her right hand, then carefully pried open the metal lid of the phone box, lifted the receiver and entered the number into the large keypad, none too proud of the way that her fingers trembled slightly with nerves as she pressed each digit.

She was relieved when the phone on the other end of the line began to ring right away.  No clicks.  The first break they’d had all evening.

Chapter Twenty

Jenny dialed the phone for the third time, the hand holding the Kimber becoming slick with nervous sweat. 

“C’mon, answer,” she muttered to the ringing line.

Dave hadn’t answered the first three times that she’d called, so she didn’t know why she thought he might answer the call now on the fourth try, but it would have been nice if he had.  Already, she’d noticed that one of the men that Stone held at gunpoint had begun to fidget and look around for a way out of his current predicament.  Jenny knew that it was only a matter of time before they tried something.

Stone obviously realized this too, because when the shrill beep of Dave’s voicemail pierced the air, easily heard through the handset in the dead quiet of the cavern, he signed heavily.  Keeping his eyes on the three men, he said, “Just leave a message on his voicemail, Jenny.  We’re running out of time.  Tell him that we need his help, that we’re trapped here in the Strata museum with unleashed bacteria that has been mutated by an unknown toxic substance and the CDC is willing to let us all suffocate before they do anything.  Tell him to contact the EPA and the news outlets. He’ll take it from there. 
If
he gets the message.”

Jenny nodded, then quickly repeated the message to Dave’s voicemail.  In seconds, she was hanging up the phone’s handset.

“Now, before you make another call, go over and see if you can find any zip ties or handcuffs on these men.  They’re getting the jitters,” Stone said, the 1911 still pointed steadily at the three men.

Jenny reluctantly stuffed the Kimber into the waistband of her pants, though she hated to since she’d always thought that was one of the most dangerous ways to carry a loaded firearm.  She had scoffed numerous times when she’d seen the action performed on one TV show or another.  Now, she tried not to give it another thought as she made her way over to the three men.

“Got any zip ties or cuffs?” she asked the first one.

The man acted as if she wasn’t there, ignoring her completely as he stared hard at Stone. 

Jenny heaved a sigh, “Suit yourself.”

The man was wearing one of the odd black quarantine suits, which seemed to be one part tactical gear and one part sealed protection from biohazards.  The suit looked almost like a diver’s wetsuit, slick and rubbery, but much roomier and less snug, and it had two large pockets attached to the material at each leg, one at thigh level and the other at calf level, plus a more traditional looking set of pockets sewn in at the hips.  Kneeling, she started with the bottom pockets, none too keen on putting her hands in the pockets at his hips, which seemed way too personal to her. 

The first pocket she opened contained two extra magazines for his weapon and a telescoping nightstick.  Jenny tossed the extra magazines and nightstick onto the saltcrete floor beside her. The metal clattered loudly in the tense silence.  The man’s second pocket contained nothing.  In the third pocket, Jenny found a curl of thick, black zip ties bundled together. 

“Found some,” she said, turning to look at Stone over her shoulder, holding the ties aloft. 

The man immediately took advantage of the distraction, and chose that exact moment to lift his leg and kick her square in the chest with his booted foot.  The impact knocked her backward and forced the air from her lungs at the same time.  As she fell backward toward the floor, she saw all three men reaching to draw their weapons.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl.  As her back hit the dusty saltcrete, Stone fired the 1911 and shoved the doctor to the side at the same time, taking a step after the falling physician. 

The man who’d kicked her was hit in the chest by the first round, but as he went down, he managed to sqeeze off a shot at the same time Stone fired again.  The man’s bullet went wide of his target, hitting the salt walls and pinging around the space like an angry hornet.   Stone’s second shot hit the second man in the shoulder, and the man crumpled, landing almost directly on top of his fallen companion.

Jenny used her legs to kick out, crawling backward across the dusty saltcrete like a crab that had been upended and beached.  She scrabbled backwards for purchase just as the third man brought his weapon to bear on Stone.

Stone fired again, but the 1911 jammed a millisecond after he pulled the trigger, the hammer making a useless hollow click as it hit empty air inside the chamber. 

Even behind the man’s biohazard mask, Jenny saw his lips turn up in an evil grin.

Jenny went for the Kimber, but the man’s eyes flicked toward her, a savage expression twisting his features.

“Don’t do it, or I’ll shoot him,” the man said, stepping over the bodies of his fallen companions toward Stone. 

“You’re good,” he told Stone.   “I wasn’t expecting that.  If your gun hadn’t jammed, you’d have gotten me too.  But, well, it did, and
now
the tables have turned, haven’t they?”

Jenny watched the man walk toward Stone until he had the barrel of his Ruger pressed up against Stone’s chest, directly over his heart.  Jenny shuddered, fear chasing its way down her spine as she stared up at the scene from the dusty floor.

The doctor stood up from where he’d fallen against the wall and began frantically inspecting his suit for tears.  Finding none, he walked closer to the man holding Stone at gunpoint.

“Shoot him,” the doctor said.  “He’s nothing but trouble.   Then call up top and ask Dennis what should be done with these men that have been shot.  Their NBC suits have been breached.”

Jenny watched in horror as the man nodded, agreeing to murder Stone before her eyes.

The doctor stepped over to her and bent, offering a hand in assisting her to her feet, the first sign of courtesy that she’d seen him show to anyone.

“For now, you can live.  I have a use for you.  Or rather, I have a use for your blood.  Despite Dr. Shean’s assurances that his samples of it are large enough to sustain research for both of us, I might need more of it after I begin testing, so I’d prefer to keep you alive a while longer.  At least until the clean-up efforts down here begin.” 

The man acted as if he was doing her an enormous favor by allowing her to live a few extra hours, which, to his mind, he probably was.  But being used as a lab rat wasn’t Jenny’s idea of a good time.

Jenny ignored his offered hand and climbed slowly to her feet, giving a theatrical groan as she rose, clutching at her chest where the guard had kicked her only moments ago. 

“I think he might have broken something,” she gasped, just for good measure.

The doctor seemed unperturbed by the thought of her injury, but his eyes went to her clutching hands as she’d wanted.  Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she stepped to the side, using his bulky white shape to conceal her movements from the man behind him, then went for the Kimber. 

The doctor’s eyes widened behind his face shield and he gasped. 

“Gun,” he shouted just as she brought the weapon up to fire.

The doctor ducked left and the man in front of Stone moved to turn his gun on her, swinging it away from Stone.   And though the barrel of the gun swung rapidly toward her, Jenny didn’t fire.  She had no shot.  The trajectory was all wrong.  Any bullet she fired at the man had the potential to hit Stone too.  She stared toward the swinging barrel, seeing her imminent death in the arc. 

Stone reacted faster than she’d imagined possible.  He reached forward in a smooth motion with his right hand, grabbing the man’s arm as the gun barrel swung away from his chest.  Simultaneously, Stone drew back his left arm, fist balled tightly, and then hammered it into the man’s head as the sentry turned toward Jenny, landing a powerful blow to the man’s temple.  The sentry joined his companions on the floor, his gun clattering uselessly against the saltcrete after falling from his slack, unconscious fingers.

Jenny lowered the Kimber as Stone stepped toward her, relief surging through every nerve in her body. Adrenaline from the close call hammered through her veins on the tail of the relief, leaving her shaking and rubber-legged.

Stone took the gun from her trembling hand and then enfolded her in a hard embrace, and she accepted this comfort gratefully, feeling as if her knees had turned to jelly.

“Don’t move, Doctor,” Stone said against her hair, and she felt him raise his arm and level the Kimber in the man’s direction.

Jenny gasped in a shuddering breath, stiffened her resolve and her knees, and stepped out of his embrace so that he’d be able to concentrate on the doctor’s movements.

“Pick up that phone and call whoever is in charge up top. Tell them you need the lift sent down immediately,” Stone ordered.

“They won’t do it,” the doctor said even as he moved toward the phone.  “They won’t risk contaminating the surface.”