Specimen

“Not in there,” she says. “Out here.”

The grey fog fills the area around me once again. There’s a tug at my right ear, and I’m abruptly back in the virtual training center. The sound of sirens fills my ears.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know.” Riley quickly pulls the sensors from my skin. “Those alarms are supposed to be reserved for an invasion.”

My body stills as my brain activates. Scenarios play through my head—everything from a false alarm to a small recon force looking for more information on the facility’s activities to an all-out attack. Every possible situation is processed. Every action I may take, and the potential consequence for the given action, is calculated. It happens so quickly, I barely realize how much information has gone through my head before the best line of action is determined.

Riley’s safety is key.

“I need to get you out of here,” I tell her.

“Shouldn’t we find out what’s happening first?”

It’s a question, not a command. There is no compelling need to do as she says. The tactical information inside my head takes over. Until I know she’s safe, she’s going to do as I tell her.

“Until we understand what’s going on, you need to be out of this building. I need you somewhere where I can protect you better. I don’t know how many people have infiltrated, how they’re armed, or where they’re located. I need space.”

I grab her hand, go to the door, and wait for her to access it. Once it opens, I quickly check the corridor for signs of intruders. The blaring alarm continues, but there is no sign of people.

“Do you have access to weapons?” I ask her.

“No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Not here, anyway. There’s an armory in the building next to the medical center, but that would be a long haul.”

“We need to mobilize the other soldiers like me. The other eighty-eight of them.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re all dead, Sten. You are the only one who survived the rest of the transformation.”

She hadn’t told me anything about this. I’d barely thought of the other men who shared my fate. I knew of their existence, but what was happening to them hadn’t been a consideration. How could I be the only one?

“Back to the lab.”

We encounter no one as we make our way through the halls, but the alarm continues. I’ve always followed Riley from room to room, never thinking about the complex twists and turns in the Mills facility, but somewhere inside my head, I’ve stored a complete map of every corridor. I’m only slightly confused when we get close to the room I usually occupy—I seem to have miscounted the number of doors down the left side. Numbers come so easily to me that I’m shocked I had it wrong, but the miscalculation is inconsequential at the moment.

Inside the lab, a red light pulses from the ceiling. From behind the mirror, bright lights show a small room with several chairs and a desk with a computer sitting on it. There is an identical red, flashing light inside of that room as well. There are no people to be seen behind the mirror, but there is an open door at the back of the room.

Ignoring the mirror room, I look around quickly at the lab equipment. My options are slim. I upset one of the medical carts and grasp the metal legs with my hands.

“What are you doing?” Riley asks.

I strain against the metal legs until one end breaks from the top. The edge is jagged and sharp. I grip the other end of the leg in my hand and swing it a couple of times, testing the weight. It’s lightweight and hollow, but it will do.

I meet Riley’s eyes, and she nods her understanding. We head back to the door and out into the hall. The sirens are louder here. I place my left hand on her back and push her slightly ahead of me. I have a clear view of what’s in front, and no one can sneak up on her from behind without going through me first.

The echoing sound of boots on tile floors reaches my ears. There are two sets of them heading in our direction at a quick pace. From the synchronized and heavy sound, I know they’re male, largely built, and highly trained. I push Riley behind me a split second before they turn the corner.

Everything slows down.

I watch as the two men, dressed in combat gear and armed with rifles, come around the corner. As they notice us, their eyes dilate and their shoulders flex as they raise their weapons.

With my chair-leg club in my hand, I take seven quick steps in a zig-zag, dodging each shot. The sound of the bullets hitting the walls tightens my stomach. The angle of the hits could come close to Riley, but I can’t stop now. Her best chance is for me to kill these men quickly. I pull my arm back and swing in an arc, catching the barrels of both weapons with enough force to throw them from the hands of my opponents. I slam the chair leg into the thigh of one man as my fist reaches the other. One of the rifles discharges as it smashes into the wall, and one last shot hits the ceiling behind me. I hear Riley cry out.

In the back of my head, I register her quickening breaths and the beating of her heart. She’s been hit, but her pulse is strong. I keep my focus in front of me as I grab one man by the arm and twist sharply. The crack is loud, and he starts to scream as he drops to the floor. I wrap my fingers