34 Rounds [Part 2]

Posted: Tuesday, 10 May 2011 by Unknown in Labels: , , , , ,
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This is the second part of what will eventually be a three part short story. It's brilliant, funny, gritty, and unedited. You're welcome.


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34 Rounds
-pt.2-



The only noise in the long corridor is made by my footsteps. The silence weighs down like blanket of concrete and I feel unnerved. No smell, no draft, just the same dampness of a basement. It’s dark.
I wonder if the guards have found the body I left back at the toilet. That should sound an alarm. Or maybe not. Maybe that’s part of this test. I have to be more careful. My grip tightens around the gun, the knife is ready in my left hand.

I step into a very large room, looks like it’s used for storage. There are catwalks around the walls leading into separate upper-levels of the structure. In the darkness the ladders and paths staked on the tall walls give the impression of a rib cage. This place is big.

“Cigarette smoke!” I tell myself. It’s coming from one off the far of corners. I can hear my heart rate in my ear drums as I step closer and closer toward the source of the smoke. “Idiots” I tell myself reassuringly.
A fresh looking bloodstain ruins the fine dark gray texture of the floor. “Maybe it’s the same guy …” Around the corner are a series of metallic shelves packed to the point of refusal with cardboard boxes and other objects that are neatly wrapped in plastic. “That’s where I’d try to hide.” I move slowly along the tall shelves. It’s very dark, but the smell of cigarettes is all around. Wait! I can see the small ember of a cigarette tip. I quicken my pace.

The only light now is the fading red glow of the cigarette tip. I crouch down for closer inspection but something grabs my gun hand from the darkness. The strong hold squeezes like a vise and twists my hand. I drop my gun. It feels like my whole arm will come off; the next split second I’m flat on my back. Another swift blow makes the knife slide from my grip. My throat is pressed back by what feels like the sole of a boot and a bright light blinds me. It’s a flashlight.

“Hhmrrr” my tormentor gives a guttural grunt, “You’re no guard.” he says still fixing my throat with his foot. He leans in for a closer look.
“I woke up an hour ago. I don’t remember much.” I tell him as I gasp for air. I’m looking around for anything that can give me an advantage. It’s too dark to see anything and I am bested. “I saw blood earlier, are you wounded?”
“Just a scratch. I patched myself up before you got here. How many guards did you encounter on your way?”
“Four. Killed one of them and hid him in the toilet.”
“The toilet?”
“Yes, the toilet. I didn’t have time for an official burial with the armed patrols and all that.” As my eyes adjust to the flashlight I can distinguish some of the man’s features. White male, most likely heavy build considering he tossed me like a wedding bouquet, eye-patch on his right eye (“and he got me in the dark; how embarrassing.”), sharp hand-to-hand skills. “I think you can take your foot from my throat now.”
“Sure,” he says as he helps me up. “So what do you know about this place?”
“Not much. The structure looks like a labyrinth, it think it’s underground. I interrogated a guard, he said there are elevators. I’m guessing that the only way out.”
“Do you have any orders?” he looks at me with his good eye.
“Yes, there was a speaker in the room I woke up in. It said something about a test, and me being drugged. I think it should start to wear out soon.”
“I said orders …”
“My task is to exit this facility.”
“Interesting.” He says putting one hand scientifically to his chin.
“What about you? How did you get here?”
“Same. Only I’ve been around for over eight hours. I remember my past, save the last four days. It’s very strange.”
“Any way out of here?”
“The elevators need some code, or a key. There are no stairs and the corridors lead to dead ends or more storage rooms.”
“I picked up a keycard form the guard in the toilet. It should help. What about your orders?” I ask.
“Getting out is one of them. Here are your weapons,” he hands me my gun and knife, “Follow me.”

As I follow in the man’s footsteps I can help but think that he knows a little more than I do. The evasive bastard! And he’s good, better than I am. I have to be careful.

We walk stealthily across a number of identical corridors. I’m almost loosing track of where we started from. 
My companion is as silent as the constant draft that skirts along the gray walls of this endless basement. In this dead silence any noise is as subtle as a 4th of July fireworks display. “Watch out for the camera up ahead.” He whispers and points out a small box on the far side of the wall. He hugs the wall and slides along the wall until he is out of range of the camera. I follow.

We come to a tall room, it looks like a lobby. The walls are a stark red with many doors on each side and there’s an upper level. It looks very different from where we started, almost like the lobby of a hotel, only with a distinct ghost town atmosphere. “Don’t you remember where the elevators where?” I ask my companion feeling a little restless.

“I don’t remember coming to this room. Maybe we can find something around,” he starts digging in his backpack, “Take this suppressor. If you come across a guard try and find out where the exit is. Oh, and don’t stash the body in another toilet cubicle.”
“Alright, I’ll take the upper floor.”
“Good luck.” And he makes for one of the doors.

I take the stairs to the upper floor. It looks like there are no patrols. I check the rooms; they all look like poorly designed offices that would make the most boring accountant want a real job. Luckily enough one of them had a vent shaft conveniently large enough for a man to fit in. I remove the screws and carefully put away the grill.

I crawled in the dusty darkness for some twenty minutes. The only thing I could hear was the eventual tin foil pop of the shaft as I moved about. Eventually I come to another room filled with lockers. On the opposite wall from where I’m standing there’s a door. Just as I prepare to smash open the grill I hear footsteps and the door slides open. “Good” I tell myself with increased expectation.

“I got to tell you man, it wasn’t pretty. I mean fuck, his head was dangling like it was about to drop off.” One guard told the other, he looked slightly entertained.
“Shit, we better keep our eyes peeled. When’s your shift?”
“Two hours. I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“Oh, don’t be such a pussy.”

The guards are equipped with SMGs. They aren’t wearing any protective gear. They were talking about the corpse I left behind. “Pussies!” That can work to my advantage.

Before anything else happens I smash-in the vent grill with my elbow. The two are in my sight. Before they make a move I put two bullets in the nearest guard’s head. He falls to the floor instantly. The second guard get’s three rounds in the right shoulder. He drops his gun and whimpers in the corner. I rush out from the vent shaft and grab him. I put my hand over his mouth and press him against the wall. “I need you to be silent. If you make a noise you’ll look just like your friend there. Blink if you understand!”

He blinks twice.

“What are the exits to this place?”

He blinks, I let go of his mouth slowly. My knife is helping me persuade him by gently rocking on his jugular.
“There’s a tunnel far off … ohhhh God! … and and, there are a few elevators. Don’t kill me, please.”
“Elevators? Where’s the closest one?”
“You go down the stars and there’s a door at the end of the lobby. Then you make a right, the elevators are right there.”
“Do I need a key or anything?”
“Standard issue keycard. H-here, you can have mine.” He stretches out a trembling hand with a yellow magnetic card. Then I knock him out.

I shove both bodies in the venting shaft. They fit perfectly; it gives me a sense of gratification, like a job well done.

As I descend the stairs I hear commotion. The sound of feet and shuffling is all about. Then I hear “FREEZE!”

“Shit!” I tell myself, and I rush down the stairs. I turn back to where I think the red lobby should be. The noises are getting stronger. “Where is he you fuck?” I recognize the voice of an angry guard, then there’s a thumping noise, kind of like the noise you hear when someone smashes a rifle butt on your head.

I crack the door slightly just to see what’s going on. There are two guards. One of them is interrogating my companion with the use of his rifle, the other one looks like he’s taking notes.

I walk inside, gently sliding the door behind me. The guards are too focused ruining my companions face. I quicken my pace as I aim through the sights. The idle guard goes down first attracting the attention of his prepotent colleague. As he turns around I put one round in his skull. I hear the sound of the gun slide in slow motion, that metallic scythe sound, then the explosion followed by the muffled cutting tone of a bullet speeding through air. My target falls dead.

My companion stares at me. “Thanks.” He says, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.
“Hey, no worries, we’re going to be even eventually.”
He gets up touching his jaw. It looks like an eggplant was stuck to his face. “Did you manage to find anything?”
“Yeah, the elevators are close. I also got you a keycard, here,” I hand him the yellow piece of plastic, “I already have one.”
“Did you hide the bodies?”
“In a vent.”
“Good, let’s get rid of this mess.”

We drag the two guards into one of the adjacent rooms. The good part about the structure was that it was in no way lacking when it came to places to dispose of not-yet-rotting cadavers.
“Ok, we’re done here.” My companion says readjusting his eye-patch “Now show me to the elevators so we can get out of here.”
“Follow me.”

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