Chapter time.
The last chapter was pretty much explanitory, and this one is too, but its completely necesarry to the story, so I hope I don't bore anyone. ^^
And before anybody asks, i've planned the story out from the beginning. I don't make stuff up as I go along. This might seem spontanious, but this is how I planned it to go for weeks.
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The main intersection was shaped somewhat like a figure eight; it was made of two circular rooms connected together, one room bigger than the other. The walls were lined with doors and hallways, and above the doors were catwalks leading across to even more doors, making the room seem twice as complicated. Unfortunately, due to all the homicidal activities, all entrances to the intersection had been blocked with yellow police tape. Only guards with special permits were allowed through.
Dan had no idea why he and his squad had been chosen to help capture Nedd; he figured that Durc must have hoped they would all get killed. If that was the truth, he wasn't surprised. Whether it was Durc's intention or not, Dan's squad stood with three other squads in the part of the intersection opposite the basement door, lazily awaiting orders.
This is ridiculous, Dan heard Red mutter. Dan could only nod in agreement. Red had been released from the sickbay that very morning, and still had gauze around his head from where Nedd had hit him to prove for it. Ian had gotten out too with a sprained wrist. He’d been one of the lucky ones.
"Its quite a simple procedure, actually," Durc said, pacing around the circle of guards. Dan watched him through foggy eyes. "I figured it all by myself. I can't believe I never thought of it before. By using the simple trapping method I believe some call the punji stick and combining it with...
DAN!"
Dan's head snapped up.
"Pay attention!" Durc snarled.
Dan nodded dumbly, wobbling slightly on his feet. Another sleepless night of guard duty was to blame for his exhaustion. His horns were limp against his head as he yawned, struggling to keep his eyes on his boss.
Durc crossed his arms smugly. "As I was saying, the trap is very simple. You remember the plan, yes?"
Dan nodded along with everyone else, grunting bad-temperedly. Durc had only made them go over it a dozen times.
Durc grinned. "Well then, I believe a demonstration would be useful." He looked through the crowd. "Dan, would you come here, please?"
Dan couldn't help but think that Durc had chosen him on purpose. He stepped groggily over, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand. Durc smiled at him, but it was an aggressive, challenging smile, showing plenty of teeth. "Dan here has kindly volunteered to demonstrate how the trap will work."
'Volunteered?' Dan thought, glaring.
A few guards in the crowd muttered to one another; critisizing him, probably.
"This is what will happen. Dan, would you please step right there? That large tile with the 'x' shape?"
Dan looked down. In the middle of the floor was a tile, and it was indeed shaped like an 'x'. He hesitated, half expecting Durc's trap to be a landmine.
"Don't be so paranoid," Durc snarled. "Step on the tile!"
Finally Dan stepped down. The tile split around the 'x', and his leg fell through the floor and onto a layer of metal about a foot down. Dan frowned. 'That's it?'
Durc nodded, pleased with himself. "Well?"
This trap sucks. He dared growl. Somebody in the crowd sniggered.
"Oh, really?" Durc shook his head mockingly. "Well, try to pull your foot out."
Dan pulled back his leg, and instead of it coming free, he felt a cold, hard pressure, like the tips of knives were being pressed against his skin. He looked down in surprise. When the 'x' had split, the four triangle-shaped pieces of tile had bent inwards, but not all the way; just enough so that Dan's foot could go in, but not come out. He pulled back harder, and winced. The metal was sharp. If he tried to pull it out, he would severely injure his leg. Dan scowled. He knew Nedd; the threat of hurting his foot would be almost useless against him. The least it could do would be delay his escape.
"That's not all," Durc said, pointing upwards with a claw.
Dan looked up. Attacted to the catwalk above was a thin black box, almost unnoticable in the shadows. Durc brandished a small control panel from his pocket and pressed a button. Instantly a black blanket tumbled out, draping Dan completely. Dan pulled back the fabric, and felt the smooth touch of metal against his fingers; it was not made of thread, but of thin, metallic coils, like chainmail.
"Those coils are extremely magantized," Durc explained. Without warning he pressed a second button.
A crushing pressure squeezed the air out of Dan's lungs from all sides. It was painful, not enough to make him cry out, but still unbearable. He forced his eyes open, and realised that it was the cloth that was constricting him. The coil's magnetism was so great that it extended straight through his body, tightening at an alarming rate. He thrashed instinctively, colors flashing before his eyes. He couldn't breathe!
The coils slackened. He threw the blanket off of his body, inhaling greedily. Air in his lungs had never felt so good.A few people clapped at the efficancy, and at the same time simplicity, of Durc's trap. Everybody else just watched in silence. They had seen Nedd in action; they doubted a magnetic blanket would be enough to stop him.
Durc nodded, arms crossed. With one swift motion he pressed a second button, and Dan's foot jerked free. "It proves to be very successful, if I do say so myself." he said in self-appraisal. "I've set up many of these traps in the most stragistic places of the ship; hallways, rooms, anywhere a monster could go bump in the night. With the press of this button," he hit the switch, and instantly the 'x'-hatch closed, "the trap will be set. But when the trap is not activated, its completely harmless. See?" he stomped his foot on the tile just to make a point. Then he turned back to the group of guards, adopting a serious tone:
"But be warned," he said threataningly, "this is a very delicate operation. You must tell no one what you've seen here, got it?"
Dan nodded with everyone else, despite the fact that Durc's efforts seemed useless.
<~{.epidemic.}~>
It had taken a lot of arguing, a ton of patience, and virtually a truckload of compromise for Dan to convince Durc to move him and his squad to a different station during the night patrol.
It wasn’t much better.
“This was all your idea,” a slig next to him growled darkly.
Its better than the mortuary, Dan reasoned.
At least there’s light.
“Its like a hundred-fricking-degrees in here,” the slig moaned, slumping to the floor. “Anything was better than this.”
Dan had to side with the slig for this one.
They were in the crematorium. It was a room with five huge furnaces that were used to burn the bodies of unwanted test subjects. The burners’ were constantly pumping out heat, making the room uncomfortable and sweaty, not to mention bright from the live coals. The air was thick with the smell of singed fur and burning flesh.
Dan sat down on a crate, which was full of dead fuzzles waiting to be burned. He yawned. He was worn out.
An hour or so passed. The furnaces had begun to cool, making the room slightly more bearable. Dan heard the snoring of sligs slumped nearby, and felt his own eyelids grow heavy. His head rolled, and he jerked his head up again, lips smacking. He’d learned to fear the night. Even the lit room provided little comfort.
A second hour passed. By now most everybody had fallen asleep, despite the fact they were on duty. Dan stopped caring. He leaned against the wall behind him and let his eyelids fall. He estimated the time to be around midnight, which meant he hadn’t slept in almost twenty hours. He sighed and forced his eye open, warily looking around. Only Ian remained awake. Everyone else was either propped up against a wall or sprawled out on a crate, too tired to carry on.
Ian kept fidgeting. Dan watched him for a moment. He was jumping at shadows and his head was constantly turning, a look of fear behind his eyes.
What’s wrong? Dan asked quietly, his voice tired.
Ian glanced at him with his sad blue eyes.
I need to talk to you. He said quickly. Dan got up from where he was leaning.
About what? He asked curiously. Ian looked worriedly over his shoulder.
About... he faultered.
Not here. Somewhere else.
Can’t it wait until tomorrow?
Ian got up.
No, no, it can’t, He said, voice dry. Dan frowned and walked over. What had him so terrified?
Ian stood. He walked over to the door and tested the lock. It came open easily. ‘This better be important,’ Dan thought, following him. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to just plain-old gossip.
Ian closed the door behind them. Without hesitation he darted over towards a security camera and turned it around, then turned back and talking in such a hurried whisper that Dan could hardly tell what he was saying.
You remember two nights ago, we went to the wharf, and Nedd attacked us, and some of the squad got seperated? Well I got seperated from everybody, and I didn’t slip and spring my arm like I said I did, no, instead I went all the way back to the storage room we came from and into the kitchen, and I went into the cafeteria and was planning to go get backup because I didn’t have a walkie-talkie to call anybody. But when I got there, everybody was dead, the cafeteria squad, the scrubs, everyone, and there were slogs there, and they were from the basement...
What are you talking about? Dan interrupted. Ian kept talking, his eyes wet, his voice shaking.
...and I tried to hide it with gauze and say that nothing happened and the people at the sickbay believed me, but I told them I didn’t feel well so I could stay longer and it would seem like I really hurt my wrist...
Now Dan was irritated. He was half asleep and could barely pay attention; Ian’s fast talking wasn’t helping.
Could you just get to the point?
Ian did. He tugged the thick layer of gauze off of his arm. Dan froze, horns taunt, entire body ridgid.
His wrist didn’t scare him.
The five circular holes on the back of his hand did.
Bite marks.
Oh no.