T-Minus 2
Oliver and Toast charged at the slugs, skipping three steps at a time as they dodged the net encompassing them. The technician gritted his teeth every time his boots hit the next step, pain jarring his legs as the flashlight shook in his hand. The slugs covered the walls, possibly even the ceiling since flesh colored tendrils reached for them from up above. The slugs closest to them wrapped their legs and feet, and even tried to grasp their hands to pull them back. A simple kick or flick kept them at bay, but there were more of them than they could ward off.
Around the bend of the stairwell they ran, keeping their limbs tucked against them as they scrambled upward. Soon, they left the slugs’ territory, but that didn’t stop their pursuers from chasing them. Oliver glanced over his shoulder, his light following his gaze, and caught the sight of a fleshy wall, similar to the one that had chased him and Emerson down the hallway the first time. She and Joey had been lost in the chaos behind them, and he could only hope they weren’t caught between this monster wall and the alien territory they ran through.
The wall extended from the steps to the ceiling, its true height hidden in the shadows outside the beams of their flashlights. It blocked the entirety of the passage back, leaving up their only way out. Unlike the previous time, however, there were indentations in the center of the wall forming a face. The eyes were angled in slants, jiggling in anger as the wall surged after them. Its mouth was in the vague shape of a frown, but it was constantly changing into a smile as it moved. When had they learned to make faces? Or was this just formed by coincidence?
He turned around again. This wasn’t time to be wondering about what was wrong with his soon to be his cause of death. Pain ran through his legs as Oliver pushed upwards, watching as Toast gained ground, or perhaps Oliver was the one losing it. Two steps became five steps, five became ten, and soon after the gulf between them became fifteen steps. He was closer to the monstrosity behind him than Toast. Just reaching his back, as gentle as a scratch, he could feel the aliens reaching for him.
They ran higher and higher, minutes becoming what felt like hours. It shouldn’t have taken this long to get to the next floor. Why was it taking this long? Ahead of him, Toast’s light finally revealed the open entrance to the third floor landing after what felt like a five hour marathon, a timespan, he knew, should've only taken fifteen minutes. The emergency lights that used to illuminate the hallway were dark, Toast’s beam only revealing the third floor ceiling as they summoned their last ounce of speed.
Toast reached the landing first, recoiling at the sight of what he saw up there. He changed course, making a sharp right out of the entrance way, taking his light with him. In a last ditch attempt, Oliver’s legs carried him to the entrance, only for his light to betray him as Toast’s had. He chased after the engineer, veering right, just dodging out of the wall’s grasping hands and the new aliens' attention.
These new ones were more than just flesh-colored. Each of them had faces like the wall behind them. Some faces were very distinct, their eyes and mouths hollowed out with some semblance of a nose; others were vague elliptical indentations that were more face placeholders than actual faces. Even their bodies were different than the gelatinous slime blobs that formed the wall. Closer to true flesh, with patches of what seemed like rosy skin, these aliens had small limbs attached to the front. They looked useless, looking close to the infamous arms of a t-rex, but the sight of the stumpy baby fingers opening and closing sent shudders down Oliver’s back.
The duo continued running, turning their flashlight left and right in hopes of finding a safe haven. The debris from before this crisis still littered the fringes of the hallway, creating dark hiding spots for more of the new frog-like aliens to swarm out from. They added to the mess behind them, cornering them further forward. Soon, their flashlights showed a different view of the wall, instead revealing white double doors, some having rectangular shapes cut out of them. They had entered the Laboratory Area.
Printed beside each lab were large white numbers. The right side had even numbers, while the left side had odd numbers. Three doors down on their left side was Lab 5C. Toast ran straight for it, pulling his ID from his pocket, and slapped it down on the sensor pad. The double doors gave an audible click, but didn't slide open as they would usually. Toast grabbed one side, and forced it out, squeezing in when there was enough room for him. On the other side, he kept the doors from opening any further.
“Hurry up, Hensley!” Toast cried, eyeing the horde behind him.
With another tired huff, Oliver pulled away from the aliens behind him, aiming for the doors. He took off his backpack, chucking it inside before jamming himself through the crack. Toast let the doors close, turning to survey the room they just arrived in.
"My lab!" he cried, picking up some of the scattered documents.
Lab 5C was a mess: overturned tables, scattered equipment, skewed experiments, and documents and notes splayed out near the folders they originated from. Broken glassware was strewn about, probably knocked over during the initial shock. Fallen by the far wall were cargo crates, holding either spare equipment that didn't make it to the storage room or new replacements. Oliver grabbed one of the heavy crates, and slid it in front of the doors.
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
One by one, Oliver created a barricade with the crates. He shoved the crates, putting his weight into it, driving straight into Toast sometimes when the engineer didn't move. He ran out of crates before he completed the barricade, leaving part of the door unblocked. He grabbed the nearest table, piling them on top of the crates.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Toast cried, cradling documents covered in pen scrawl.
"Working!" Oliver retorted, tossing another table into the barricade.
They ran out of tables. Oliver surveyed the room, grabbing the next heavy object he could reach. He jabbed stools into the places between the tables, situating them so their legs locked into each other. After the chairs were smaller bins and boxes, followed by the heavier books and trinkets the members of Lab 5C kept around the room. The barricade was completed, no thanks to Toast, who was still gathering his papers together.
Oliver glared at the engineer, his legs dying beneath him as he leaned against the barricade. Without looking, he could tell his pants were dyed with his own blood again. In the moment of rest, all the tension left his body to be replaced by pain, and he clutched onto the crates beside him to keep from falling.
“Oh, you’re done already?” Toast asked, coming over, his arms finally void of trivial matters.
The thump from beyond the barricade answered that question. With another huff, Oliver limped after Toast into the lab’s office. They closed the door behind them before barricading this door too. The office wasn’t privy to heavy crates, so they shoved the desk against it, ripping the cords out of the computer along the wall. They pushed the filing cabinets next, sliding shelves and all their contents in beside them after that. Only when it was secured by a mass of furniture, including the couch and Bacon’s potted plants, did the duo collapse on the floor, hiding themselves behind the conference table that was nailed to the ground.
“Do you agree they’re aliens now?” Toast asked.
Oliver couldn’t believe that was the first thing out of his mouth. He gave the engineer an incredulous look.
“Is it really the time for this?”
“They have to be aliens!” Toast continued on, ignoring the scorn. “There’s no living species I know that could evolve that fast!”
“How do you know there weren’t already different variations of them before we ran into them?”
“I don’t! But I’m sure they’re aliens!”
“And if they’re not?”
“What are they if they’re not aliens? They’re aliens! They’re aliens until we give them a proper scientific title!”
“So? What’re we going to call these aliens of yours then?” Oliver asked with a snort.
“Nereids, obviously,” Toast said with a clap.
“We’re naming them after the station?”
“Duh, we discovered them at the station, what else would you name them?”
The sound of the outer barricade breaking, a cacophonic sound of tumbling chairs and tables, ended their discussion. Oliver slapped Toast’s mouth shut, peeking his head above the conference table to peer through the window that opened out into the lab.
An avalanche of alien sludge crashed into the lab, meshing in with the remnants of the barricade. The swarm split into individual aliens, each with their own face. They stuck themselves into any crevice, searching for their quarry. Some disappeared into the open hangar, although all they’d find there would be broken drones and more debris. A few headed in their direction. Oliver ducked under the conference table again, motioning for Toast to be quiet. The engineer, for once, nodded in compliance.
Oliver crawled toward the far end, keeping the conference table between them and both the door and the window. Shading the flashlight with one hand, he searched around, patting the floor for anything useful. Toast tugged on his arm, pointing at the corner closer to the door. His flashlight lit the area, revealing a fire extinguisher. It was better than nothing.
He brought Toast closer, whispering what could be their life or death.
“If they break in, run for the extinguisher, and blast your way through.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I can’t get anywhere fast on these legs.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Either downstairs or the medical bay. Any ID can open those.”
The engineer frowned, his brows furrowing in reluctance. After moments of staring at Oliver, he gave a slow nod. They both flicked their lights off, only listening to the tumult outside. The tinkering of glass was rampant, followed by the clattering of stools and tables. Several of the sounds got closer, loudly announcing the aliens' presence from just outside the window.
Oliver sat with his legs curled, keeping them out of sight. Toast was beside him, curled up into a ball and minimizing his tall stature. They had quieted their breaths, muffling them against their sleeves and making the sounds outside louder in comparison. Sometimes there were even the thumps of some of the Nereids slapping parts of themselves against the window or the walls, startling both of them. Eventually, the noises shifted away from them, disappearing out of their range.
They relaxed their shoulders, still keeping quiet. Toast opened his mouth first, keeping his volume at a whisper.
“You think we’re in the clear yet?”
A long creaking noise coming from behind them interrupted Oliver’s answer. They shut up, turning to hear scraping noises, closer than before. Scraping noises that sounded like the legs of furniture being moved against the floor. The technician grabbed the engineer’s arm, giving it a light squeeze in warning. He shoved his own ID where the engineer kept his own. It was do or die.