To Steal a March (Surviving the Fall 11)

Dawn was breaking off to the east, but the shadows of the trees on the driveway and the country road beyond were still long, precipitating the need to use a flashlight to avoid tripping on any loose stones or sticks in the road. Mark quickly took the lead, walking impatiently ahead as he scanned the ground with the light, calling out any obstacles along the way. They took a right out of the gate, heading toward town based on nothing more than intuition. There were deep gouges in the road from the melting snow and vehicular travel, but it wasn’t clear which way the exiting vehicles had gone when they left. Mark thought he had seen them heading toward town, but there wasn’t a confirmation of whether or not they were on the right track until they got a hundred feet or so from the end of the driveway.

“Mr. Statler?” Mark abruptly stopped in the road and slipped his pistol into a holster on his belt before kneeling down, aiming the flashlight just a few inches above the ground.

“What’s up, Mark?” Jason tried desperately to avoid sounding like he was out of breath so that Tina wouldn’t start worrying about him.

“Is this what I think it is?” There was a tremor in Mark’s voice as he leaned down to touch the spot in the road, fearful of what confirming the physical nature of what he was seeing could mean.

Chapter 6

Washington, D.C.

When the door to the stairwell leading down into the hidden fourth floor of the building’s basement opened, Rick was prepared for just about anything, including a surprise attack from the Russians, someone emerging from behind the door or anything in between. He was not, however, prepared for the smell.

A pungent odor rushed out of the room, washing over the group like a wave at a beach. It enveloped them, covering them from head to toe with the distinct smell of death. One body would have smelled bad enough, but the intensity of the stench was so nauseating from the outset that Rick instinctively knew that something horrible had happened in the basement.

Suspicions about the Russians forgotten, he took a step forward, rifle pulled tight to his shoulder. Ostap followed him in lockstep, matching his every movement as he whispered. “Carl, cover our rear.”

“Da.” The other officer nodded and moved behind Rick and Ostap, following them down two flights of stairs and onto the fourth floor.

The smell only grew stronger with each step down, and Rick had to pull his shirt up over his face to try and drown it out with the smell of his own sweat. It did little to help, though, and he flinched with each breath, making his inhalations as fast as possible and his exhalations as long as possible. Another door stood at the bottom of the stairs, this one with the same type of locking mechanism as the one up top.

Ostap called for Jacob and Oles who hurried down the stairs, both of them trying to keep from retching. They quickly connected their equipment to the door and, knowing what was required to open the one up top, had the new door unlocked in a matter of seconds. Ostap waved the technicians back and pulled the door open, motioning for Carl to proceed forward. If the smell in the stairwell was bad, opening the door turned it from bad to unbearable. Rick’s eyes watered and he felt his stomach churning uncontrollably before he vomited, first from the smell, then from the sight.

No less than six bodies lay on the floor just inside the room. All of them had been leaning up against the sealed door and they fell into the stairwell. They hadn’t been sitting in the sealed environment for nearly long enough to desiccate, and as such when they hit the ground it was with a sickening splat. Rancid flesh split open, coating the inside of their clothing with gore and increasing the smell even more.

“Holy…” Rick tried to speak but vomited again. Ostap took a few steps back, his face twisted

up as he tried to keep from following Rick’s example. Carl, Jacob and Oles all backed halfway up the stairs, and all of the Russians scrambled with their gear, pulling out filtration masks and slipping them over their faces.

“Here, quick!” Ostap’s words were faint through his mask as he held out a spare one for Rick. Rick accepted it, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and slipped the mask on. The relief was overwhelming as the smell from the bodies was nearly completely removed by the multi-layer filters in the mask. He took a moment to breathe slow and long, steadying himself before turning back to face the scene of tragedy that lay before them.

“What… what happened here?” Jacob whispered through his mask.

“Looks like the place was sealed up, from the inside.” Ostap stepped back up to the door and knelt down next to the bodies. “They couldn’t get out for some reason.”

“Security, probably. Or Damocles. Either way, they were trapped and couldn’t get out.”

“What’s going on down there?” Jane’s voice echoed down the stairwell. “That smell is getting really strong!”

“You have any more of those masks?” Rick looked at Ostap, who nodded and pointed at Carl.

“Collect the spares from the technicians. Take them up, explain what is happening, and escort them both down.”

Carl nodded and got to work while Ostap turned back and stepped up next to Rick. “See anything useful on the bodies?”

“Military IDs on two of them and some paperwork referencing project Damocles.” Rick grimaced as he turned over a pair of suspiciously damp wallets before dropping them and rubbing his hands on his pants. “I think we’re in the right place.”

***

After Carl, Ostap and Rick moved the corpses aside, the group ventured beyond the second security door and into a floor of the building that was remarkably similar to the ones above. Unlike those above, however, it had a more sterile, clean feel due to the transparent walls and doors that comprised the majority of the workspaces. Rows of computers, server racks, test benches, desks and conference tables were visible as the seven walked down the hall, their weapons relaxed and their flashlights swinging in every direction.

Despite the clean, almost medical look of the place, death was not far and the bodies near the entrance weren’t the only ones present. One of the walls in a conference room was covered in rust-colored splatter and two bodies were on the floor next to each other in what looked like a double suicide. In another office a man was curled up on the floor, having died of starvation, dehydration or a combination of the two. The people who had been trapped were mostly young, except for those dressed in military uniforms, of which there were more than a few. Age, rank, position of authority and status before Damocles was unleashed had no sway against death’s scythe.

“We should check some of these systems.” Rick murmured almost too quietly to hear through his mask. “See if we can find out where to start hunting for the data we need.”

Rick’s voice broke the seal covering the silence in the room, and Jane immediately spoke next. “How did this happen? So many people just… dead.”

“Assuming this is the place where we’ll find the information we need,” Dr. Evans said, “then it was likely Damocles that sealed it off.”