Athens had failed. Dr. Griffith stared at the blinking white light by the door, cursing Athens, cursing Lyle Ammon, cursing his luck. He hadn't told Athens how to get back inside, which could only mean that the intruders had made it past him. Ammon had left them a message or sent them one, it didn't matter - all that mattered was that they were coming and he had to assume that they had the key. He'd torn down the markers weeks ago, but perhaps they had directions, perhaps they'd find him and...
Don't panic, no need for panic. You prepared for this, simply move on, next plan. Division first, twofold effect - less firepower, bait for later... and a chance to see how well Alan can perform.
Griffith turned to Dr. Kinneson and spoke quickly, keeping the instructions clear and simple, the route as easy as possible. Griffith had already worked out the questions they'd probably ask, though he knew there was a chance they'd try for more information. He gave Alan several random phrases to respond with, then gave him the small semi-automatic pistol from Dr. Chin's desk drawer, watching as Alan tucked it beneath his lab coat to make sure it was hidden. The bullet carrier was empty, but he didn't think it was possible to tell, not if the hammer was pulled back. He also gave Alan his key; a risk, but then the entire scenario was a risk. With the fate of the world resting in his hands, he'd take any chance necessary. After Alan had gone, Griffith sat down in a chair to wait for a reasonable amount of time, his gaze wan- dering to the six stainless canisters in restless antici-pation. His plans wouldn't fail; the righteousness of his work would see him through this invasion. If Alan was caught out, there were still the Ma7s, there was still Louis, there were still the syringes and his hiding place, the airlock controls in easy reach.
Past all of that, there was still the sunrise, waiting. Dr. Griffith smiled dreamily.
Karen could still walk, still seemed to understand at least part of what they were saying to her, but the few words she could manage didn't seem to relate to anything. As they'd gone down the stairs from the lighthouse, she'd said "hot" twice. As they'd walked into the wide, dank tunnel at the base of the steps, she'd said, "I don't want," an expression of fear on her deathly pale, searching face. Rebecca was terrified that even if they found a way to reverse the viral load, it would be too late. It had all happened so suddenly, so fast that she could still hardly comprehend it. There'd been a man waiting for them in the darkness of the lighthouse, a trap just as David had intuited. As soon as they'd gone in, he'd opened fire with an automatic rifle, strafing the door from the shadows beneath the wind- ing metal stairs. Thanks to David's plan, it had been over in seconds and as Steve had discovered the access door and punched in the code, Rebecca and John had looked over their waiting attacker, had seen in the narrow beam of John's flashlight that the man had been infected his paper-white skin was flaking and creased with strange, peeling etched lines. He'd looked somehow different than the Trisquad victims she'd seen, less decayed, his open, staring eyes some- how more human... but then David had gone to get Karen and Rebecca's interest had been suddenly and cruelly diverted. It had been the walk up the hill, she'd decided. Even though it shouldn't have made a difference, she couldn't imagine what else might have brought on the amplification so quickly. Somehow, the T-Virus must have responded to the physiological changes of Ka- ren's increased heart rate and circulation, but as they'd led the confused and stumbling woman into the lighthouse, Rebecca had found that she'd stopped caring about how; all she wanted was to get to the lab, to try and salvage what was left of Karen Driver's sanity. The tunnel beneath the lighthouse seemed to lead back toward the compound in a curving, twisting trail, and was carved from the heavy limestone of the cliff. Mining lights were strung along the walls, casting strange shadows as they moved forward, silent and grimly afraid, John and Steve half-pulling Karen between them. Rebecca was last, again feeling a horrible sense of deja vu as they stumbled along, remembering the tunnels beneath the Spencer estate.
The same cold damp emanated from the stone, and she felt the same terrible feelings of moving toward unknown danger, exhausted and afraid of screwing up - of not being able to prevent a disaster. The disaster has already happened, she thought helplessly, watching Karen struggle to keep walking.
We're losing her. In another hour, probably less, she'll be too far gone to ever come back.
As it was, John and Steve shouldn't be touching her. In a single, easy movement she could get at either one of them, biting before they had a chance to let go. Even that concept made her sick with sorrow and an aching, heavy feeling of loss. The tunnel veered to the left, and Rebecca realized they had to be incredibly close to the ocean; the walls seemed to tremble and shake from a muted thunder beyond, and the tunnel was thick with a damp and fishy smell. Parts of the floor seemed too smooth to have been created by human hands, and Rebecca wondered vaguely if the tunnel opened up ahead somewhere, perhaps had once been flooded by the sea... "Bloody hell," David whispered angrily. "Shit." Rebecca looked up. When she saw what was ahead, she felt her last flicker of hope for Karen die.
We'll never find it in time.
The tunnel did open up, a few hundred meters ahead of where David had stopped. It widened con-siderably, in fact and was connected by five smaller tunnels, each branching off in a slightly different direction. "Which way is southwest?" John asked anxiously. Karen leaned against him, her head rolling forward. David's voice was still angry, frustration raising his words to an echo that bounced through the five stone corridors, circling back to fill the cavern.
"I don't know, I thought we were already headed southwest and yet none of these is in direct align-ment, and none head directly east, either."
They moved into the rough-hewn cavern, staring helplessly at the smooth tunnels, each of them strung with lights that disappeared around turns and bends. They had obviously been carved by water, perhaps had once been connected to the sea caves that David had originally meant for them to find. The tunnels weren't as wide as the one they stood in, but were wide enough to accommodate human passage com-fortably enough, and at least three meters high. There was no way to guess which one was used to get to the lab -or if any of them lead to the lab, we don't even know for certain that it's down here...
"If none of them goes east, then we have to pick the one that looks the most likely to go southwest," Steve said quietly. "Besides, east of here is water." Karen mumbled something unintelligible, and Rebecca stepped forward worriedly to see how she was. Though John and Steve still steadied her, she seemed to have no trouble standing on her own. Rebecca touched her clammy, sweating forehead and Karen's rolling eyes fixed on her, glassy and red, the pupils dilated. "Karen, how are you doing?" she asked softly. Karen blinked slowly. "Thirsty," she whispered, her voice bubbling and liquid sounding.
Still responsive, thank God...
Rebecca touched her throat lightly, feeling the rapid, thready pulse beneath her fingers. It was defi- nitely quicker than before, up in the lighthouse. Whatever the virus was doing to her, it wouldn't be much longer before Karen's body gave out. Rebecca turned, feeling desperate and angry, want- ing to scream for somebody to do something and heard the pounding footsteps, echoing up through one of the tunnels. She grabbed for her Beretta, saw John and David do the same as Steve held onto Karen.
Which one, where's it coming from? Griffith? Is it Griffith?
The sound seemed to circle, coming from every-where at once and then Rebecca saw him, appearing from around a comer in the passage second from the right. A stumbling figure, a flapping, dusty lab coat and then he saw them, and even from fifteen meters away, Rebecca could see the stunned and almost hysterical joy that swept across his face. The man ran for them, his short brown hair wild and disheveled, his eyes bright and lips trembling. He wasn't holding any kind of weapon, though Rebecca kept hers raised.
"Oh, thank God, thank God! You have to help me! Dr. Thurman, he's gone mad, we have to get out of here!"
He staggered out of the tunnel and nearly ran into David, apparently oblivious to the pistols trained on him as he babbled on.
"We have to go, there's a boat we can use, we have to get out before he kills us all..."
David shot a glance back, saw that Rebecca and John still had him covered. He tucked the Beretta into his side holster and stepped forward, taking the man's arm.
"Easy, calm down. Who are you, do you work here?" "Alan Kinneson," the man gasped. "Thurman kept me locked up in the lab but he heard you coming and I managed to get away. But he's crazy. You have to help me get to the boat! There's a radio, we can call for help!" The lab! "Which way is the laboratory?" David asked quickly. Kinneson didn't seem to hear him, too panicked by whatever he thought Thurman might do to them.
"The radio's on the boat, we can call for help and then get away!" "The laboratory," David repeated. "Listen to me did you just come from there?"
Kinneson turned and pointed to the tunnel that was next to the one he'd come from, the one in the middle.
"The lab is that way..." He pointed back the way he'd come. "...and the boat's down there. These caves are like a maze."
Though he seemed to have calmed slightly as he pointed to the tunnels, when he turned back to face them, he looked as hysterical as he had before. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties at first glance, but David noticed he had deep lines etched at the comers of his eyes and mouth and realized he had to be much older. Whoever he was and however old he was, he was caught in the grip of an almost mindless panic.
"The radio's on the boat, we can call for help and then get away!"
David's thoughts raced in time with his pounding heart. This was it, this was their chance -
-we get to the lab, make this Thurman give us the cure and then get out of this place, before anyone else gets hurt.
He turned to look at the others and saw the same hopeful looks that he knew he wore, John and Steve both nodding sharply. Rebecca didn't look as en- thused. She jerked her head back, motioning for David to move out of Kinneson's earshot. "Excuse us a moment," David said, forcing a politeness that he didn't feel. Kinneson was one of the researchers from Trent's list. "We have to hurry!" The man babbled, but he didn't follow as David stepped back toward the others, the four of them leaning together to talk, Karen resting against Steve's arm. Rebecca's voice was hushed and worried. "David, we can't take Karen to the lab if Griffith - if Thurman is there; what if we have to fight?"
John nodded, shooting a glance at the wild-eyed
researcher. "And I don't think we should leave this guy alone, he's likely to take off with our ride home."
David frowned, thinking. Steve was a better shot, but John was stronger. If they had to force Thurman to give them the T-Virus cure, John could probably intimidate him more easily.
"We split up. Steve, you take Karen to the boat, keep an eye on Kinneson. We'll go to the lab, get what we need and then meet you there. Agreed?"
Tight nods, and then David turned, addressing Kinneson.
"We need to get to the laboratory, but our friend Karen isn't well. We'd like for you to take her and an escort to the boat, and wait for us."
Kinneson's eyes seemed to blank out for just a second, the strange, vacant look there and gone so quickly that David wasn't even sure he'd seen it. "We have to hurry," he said quickly, then turned and started back down the passage he'd appeared from, walking at a brisk pace. David felt a sudden worry, staring at Kinneson's rapidly receding back, his dirty lab coat floating out behind him.
He didn't even ask who we are,...
As Steve and Karen started to enter the tunnel, David touched Steve's arm, speaking softly. "Watch him carefully, Steve. We'll be there as soon as we can."
Steve nodded and moved off after the strange Dr. Kinneson, Karen stumbling along next to him. John and Rebecca were already standing in front of the middle passageway, weapons still in hand. The chamber shook as outside, a muffled thunder roared. Without speaking, the three of them started down the gloomy tunnel in a tired but determined jog, ready to face the human monster behind the many tragedies of Caliban Cove.
They turned the first corner, Karen hanging onto his shoulder with a cold and sweating hand and the researcher was just rounding a bend farther ahead, a good hundred meters away. Steve caught a glimpse of fluttering white and the heel of a black loafer, and then he was out of sight, clattering footsteps moving away.
Great. Lost in a goddamn sea cave labyrinth because Dr. Strangelove has a schedule to keep...
Karen let out a low moan of soft distress and Steve felt the cold, hard knot in his stomach clench tighter, his fear of getting lost nothing next to fear he felt for Karen. She was leaning on him more heavily, her feet dragging against the dank limestone floor.
David, John, Rebecca, please hurry, please don't let Karen get any worse...
He pulled her along as quickly as he could, con- cerned about catching up to Kinneson, worried about the others putting themselves in danger, afraid for the desperately sick woman who clung to his side. Except for meeting Rebecca, it had to be the worst day of his life. He'd only been with the S.T.A.R.S. for a year and a half, and while he'd been in threatening situations before, they didn't come close to what he'd experi- enced in the few short hours since they'd been knocked out of the raft. Sea monsters, zombies with guns and now Karen. Smart, serious Karen, losing her mind, maybe turning into one of those things. We're so close to getting out of here and it may still be too late... As they reached the turn in the tunnel, Steve realized that he couldn't hear Kinneson's footsteps anymore. He staggered around the corner, thinking that he should call for him to wait up, not to get too far ahead and he stopped cold, his gut plummeting to somewhere around his knees. Kinneson stood two meters away, holding a.25 semi-automatic, his face and eyes as strangely blank and lifeless as a manne- quin's. He stepped forward and pressed the small bore into Steve's stomach, hard, jerking the Beretta out of his holster and then stepping back. The flat-eyed doctor moved to one side, now holding both weapons on them as he motioned for Steve to move in front of him.
"Watch him carefully, Steve..."
Steve held on to Karen's side, fumbling through his thoughts for ways to stall, to reason with Kinneson, his body tensing to spring even as his brain screamed at him to go along, not to get shot -
-what would happen to Karen? "You will come to the lab," Kinneson said tone-lessly, "or I'll kill you." It was the inflectionless voice of a computer, com- ing from the blankly merciless face of a man who suddenly didn't seem human, not at all. "We know what you did here," Steve spat. "We know all about your goddamn Trisquads, we know about the T-Virus, and if you want to get out of this without..." "You will come to the lab or I'll kill you."
Steve felt a helpless shudder run through his body. Kinneson's tone hadn't altered at all, his gaze as fixed and emotionless as his voice. Steve noticed the lines then, the deep, spidering lines that swept away from
his cold brown eyes, sat at the corners of his slack and
expressionless lips.
Oh my God... "You will come to the lab or I'll kill you," he repeated, and this time, he raised both weapons holding them inches away from Karen's sagging head. Steve knew she was dying, knew that there was a good chance she'd lose against the virus and becomea violent, insane creature before the night was through -but I have to protect her for as long as I can. If I sacrificed her to save myself and there was even a chance that she could've been cured...
Steve wouldn't, couldn't do it. Even if it meant his own life. Holding Karen tightly, he stepped ahead of the thing and started to walk.
Enough time had passed. If the intruders had done what they were supposed to do, they would have split up, some of them heading mistakenly for the pen, some accompanying the good doctor back to the lab. If Alan had failed, he'd at least have stalled the intruders long enough to keep them out in the open. Either way, it was time.
Griffith tapped the control panel for the Ma7 enclo-sure, thinking wistfully how much fun it would be to see the looks on their faces. The red light flashed to green, signifying that the gate was fully open. No matter, he supposed. So long as they died.