Chapter 45: Out of the Shaft

Carrying Dylan over his shoulder, Fred took hold of the ledge where the doors opened and pulled himself up one-handed, making his way into the room. He then set Dylan down carefully on the ground.

Skittering sounds from above caught my attention. I pointed my submachine gun up, but thought the better of it, as shooting them would just drop bodies on Marci and Bent. At the edge of my light, a wedge-shaped head crawled into view from above. “Guys! Hurry out!”

Bent rushed up the ladder and, when he reached for the doors, Ave simply took hold of his arm, hauling him inside. Marci was right under him and, alone on the ladder, she held onto it with both hands, electricity coursed around her torso, down her arms and into the metal.

A crack rang out up and down the shaft, then the bodies fell. Marci held tight, as close to the ladder as possible, but one slammed right into her and they both went down.

“Marci!” I shouted and jumped in as two more bodies fell onto her location.

Ave yelled at me, “Boss, watch out!”

One of the medium sized ones landed on my shoulders, sudden immense pressure on my head and a terrible crunching sound. Reaching up, I grabbed its mandibles and tried to pull them apart with all my strength but they were slick with blood, sharp and cutting into my hands.

The creature suddenly went limp. Ave yanked me around with her left hand, war hammer in her right, “Boss, you ok?”

“Fine! Let’s get Marci out of here!”

More little ants swarmed down the ladder and Ave went to work, smashing them into the walls of the shaft here and there.

Picking up and tossing ant bodies, I uncovered Marci. Her hair was gold and red, her eyes fluttered open. I took the remaining half healing potion, dumped it into her mouth. Her eyes focused on me, she squeezed my hand and sat up.

“Let’s go!”

Ave hit another one, but they were coming down all sides now. “We don’t have a lot of time!”

Fred jumped down, picked Marci up, and tossed her toward the open doors. Then he picked me up by the back of the shirt and pants and lugged me through the doors like I was a child. After sliding a bit, I scrambled to my feet just in time to see Ave, then Fred, pull themselves up.

The first wedge shaped head poked through the door, then dropped into the room. Bracing, taking aim, I shot it three times. “Down the hallway! Stay to the right!” I shot and shot as more and more entered the room until the gun clicked empty. Then, I turned and ran.

The others were midway down the hallway. I took the left, stomping on the pressure pad, then held my breath until I got to the door and closed it, pushing against it. “Ave! Fred! Help!”

We all put our backs against the door. It banged inward once, twice, one more thunderous assault, then stopped. Warily, I put my ear against the door, listening. Only silence came from the other side.

Finally, I relaxed, letting the door hold me up. “Marci, you ok?”

“Just feeling dumb. Sending electricity into the ladder seemed like a good idea, but wow, that was stupid.”

I gave her a smile simply because she was still alive. “Yeah, stupid. Bent, how’s Dylan?”

Dylan lay on the floor, Bent kneeling next to him, fingers on his neck. He moved to a sitting position, pulling Dylan’s head into his lap. “His pulse is strong, he’s breathing normally. You got that last bit of healing pot?”

“Uh, no. Sorry, it’s gone.”

“Gone?”

Marci’s eyes widened and she looked from me to Bent, “My fault, Bent. I’m sorry. I . . .”

“Forget it,” he waved his hand, sounding annoyed. “We’ll have to take care of Dylan the old-fashioned way.”

Fred stepped away from the door. “I’ll check around, see if we can build a stretcher. Or something.”

“I’ll help,” said Ave, “if you don’t think they’ll get through the door. Boss, you ok? Your head’s bleeding.”

The pain hit and I suddenly felt woozy, held out my arm to the door to steady myself. “Oh, yeah.”

Holding onto my shoulders and guiding me to the ground, Ave said, “You’d best sit down. Marci?”

“On it.” She dropped her pack beside us, going through it and pulling out a med kit. Marci looked up, “You too, River, the old-fashioned way.” After opening a package of gauze, she sprayed it with a disinfectant. “Ready? I have to get your hat off first, but I’ll wet it down.”

“My hat’s on there?”

“It may have saved you from much of the bite, now that I look at it. The leather’s all torn up now, though. I wonder if it had some kind of protection rating?”

“Like, against attacks?”

“Yeah. It’s a game, why not? Hold still.”

“Owe! That stings. I guess they broke the skin.”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve got nasty cuts on both sides of your head. Without that hat, I think it would have scalped you. Or maybe with just a bit more time.” It stung as Marci began rubbing my head with the gauze, but I kept silent, staring down.

Ave’s large legs walked into my view, “If you’ve got this, Marci, I’m going to help Fred look for a makeshift stretcher.”

“No worries, Ave. The boss is in good hands.” She tossed the bloody hat into a corner along with some gauze and shortly began wrapping my head.

“Thanks, Marci.”

“I think we’re going to want more healing pots.” She pulled the gauze around my head again, “They work so much faster.”

“Yeah. I wonder how hard they are to come by. Maybe we should farm trogs.”

“That feels wrong.” Marci tied the wrapping, “You’re done.”

“True.” I took her hands in mine, standing, “Thank you. Also, damn, I really worried for you back there.” I pulled her into a hug.

Placing her arms under mine, she squeezed, “I’m sorry. Wow, yeah, that was stupid.”

“Effective at killing a fair amount of them, but not the wisest course of action.”

Marci backed up in my arms, then looked at me. “I haven’t put any points into wisdom. You think that affects us?”

“Holy shit, that would be troubling.”

“Maybe min-maxing isn’t the way to go. I don’t want to keep making poor decisions.”

“You normally think things through. Do you feel any change to being analytical?”

“No. I mean, we’re having this discussion about the game. So, I’m still analytical.”

“Analytical but stupid.”

Marci play hit me, tapping my shoulder, then resting on my chest. “I guess I did admit that.”

“Still your original thought is terrifying. Let me know if you feel any changes. And I’ll do the same.”

“That’s a good idea.”

I dropped my arms, then stepped away, lifting up the submachine gun. “I ran out of bullets back there.” I ejected a clip, checked it. “Yeah, empty. We’re going to have to do a count.”

“Fred said he was killing more with his sword.”

“Then we can take his ammo. Fred and Ave can mop up after we empty our clips or something.”

Bent looked up, frown on his face, “How are we even going to get out of here? Our only escape route is blocked by those creatures.”

“No,” I said, “there’s still the staff stairwell.”

“Yeah, but that’s on the other side of the elevator shaft. And those things are between us and here.”

“I don’t think they’re in the hallway anymore.” I put a new clip into the gun. “Well, none that are alive, anyways. The gas trap killed them. I doubt more will be coming, based on how they reacted to the diesel exhaust. They’ll probably stay outside the elevator shaft from now on.”

“Actually,” said Marci, “they’re probably getting ready to fill it in, at least to the first floor.”

“Fill it in?”

“Like you said, how they reacted to the diesel exhaust. They’ll try to bury it to prevent the noxious gasses from killing more of them. But that gives me an idea.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She smiled with a head tilt, “We need bottles, cups, anything. We’re going to fill them with fuel from the generators.”

***

Marci and I shone our flashlights around the generator room. We’d found coffee cups in the security room. Disposable ones. But they’d do. “You know that diesel doesn’t burn very well, right?”

“Yeah, we can’t make Molotov cocktails out of it. But I think we can get it burning, with Bent’s fire magic.”

“Ok. And then what?”

“I was thinking we’d use it to send a lot of smoke up the elevator shaft.”

“To get them to avoid it?”

“And keep them busy. They’ll start lines bringing in dirt and stones to plug up the shaft. And we’ll make our way up the stairwell.”

“We’re still going to have quite the fight on our hands there. With nowhere to retreat to if things go badly.”

“And no more healing pots.”

“Right.”

Marci stopped, looking at me, and touched my arm, then my face, “Thank you. For getting me out of there and giving me the last healing potion.”

“No need to-”

Pulling at the back of my neck, Marci brought my lips to hers, and we kissed for a long while. After, she fell into my arms. As we hugged, I ran my hands through her thick hair.

***

“Diesel,” I said, setting the cup down. “Don’t drink this. We’ll have to get a lot more.”

“I don’t know, Boss, it might be better than that bottom shelf gin we found upstairs.”

“Speaking of that, Fred,” said Marci. “How many bottles did you bring?”

He shifted his weight to his right leg, crossed his arms, eyebrow cocked, “Why?”

“Because Molotov cocktails would really help us after we leave the stairwell.”

“But this is top shelf stuff!”

“I’m sorry, Fred.”

“Alright guys,” I said, “let’s have an ammunition check. How many mags do we have each? Looks like I’m on my last. After that, it’s the sidearm. I’ve shot a few bullets, but still have five magazines in reserve.”

Fred shrugged. “All spent. Just the handgun now. But,” he patted his sword handle, “this will do just nicely, I think.”

“Yeah, I’m out as well, except for the handguns,” said Ave. “Here, you take my extra one. And the extra magazines.”

“Thanks.” After making sure the safety was on, I tucked it into my shirt pocket, put the clips where they were accessible. “I guess I’ll be going in two guns blazing. Well, after the submachine gun is out.”

“I’ve got two magazines remaining for the sub gun,” said Marci.

Taking the Skorpion off my shoulder, I ejected the clip, then the bullet in the chamber, and passed both to Marci. You take it. Let’s keep our resources focused.”

“Thanks.” She thumbed the bullet back into the magazine, putting it in a pocket under her mail.

“I’ll take Dylan’s I guess,” said Bent. Looks like he’s down to one, too. That makes two and a half clips for me. I hope it’ll be enough.”

“So, what’s the plan, Boss?” asked Ave.

“We’re going to put this diesel in front of the elevator doors and Bent,” he nodded, “you’re going to light them up. We’ll jam the doors open, so the fumes go up. Then, it’s up the service staircase. At the lobby, we’ll toss in the Molotov cocktails-”

“-Top shelf Molotov cocktails,” said Fred.

I continued, “Those will hopefully clear a space. If not, Bent and Marci will open up with the Skorps. Then, Fred and Ave will move in, and we’ll follow right behind. Our objective isn’t to fight, it’s to get to the long hallway back to the cave as quickly as possible.”

“What about Dylan?”

“Yeah, that’s the tricky part.”