"ID, please," Crews's voice was clipped, professional.
"Seriously, Crews?" Jake sighed, pulling out his ID card. He held it to the scanner. The gate lock buzzed, and the barbed wire-topped chain-link panel slid open with a groan. He eased the Jeep forward into the inspection checkpoint. The gate behind him clanged shut, the sound echoing the metallic taste of fear in his mouth. Every time he left the lab, he pictured himself driving away, the facility shrinking in his rearview mirror, disappearing forever. But the image always dissolved, replaced by the grim reality of his situation.
Two black-uniformed guards with masks and hand-held scanners emerged from the security shack. They made their rounds, using the long metal poles attached to their scanners to probe under his vehicle, their headlamps shining into every possible crevice. Jake nodded to them, a familiar ritual. They disappeared after a perfunctory inspection.
He glanced up at the cameras, giving a two-fingered wave. He knew they were watching, two from the front, two from the rear. After all these years, he could find all the cameras in his sleep. He swiped his keycard, and the inner gate rumbled open.
The headlights illuminated the main door of the facility. A nondescript building of concrete, faded paint, and unlabeled doors. The parking lot had weeds sprouting from cracked asphalt, and graffitied dumpsters surrounded the building. Beneath this surface lurked the sprawling, state-of-the-art facility. The only giveaway was the high-security perimeter. No one came this far out of town without knowing exactly where they were going. This was just to keep them off the radar of any stray aircraft that might wonder what such a large facility was doing outside of Sandusky.
He turned the Jeep left, heading for the underground parking garage ramp. As he did, the side door banged open, and Janet came barreling out, covered in blood, nearly colliding with the driver's door. Jake cursed, slamming on the brakes.
Damn it, what now?
"He’s doing it again!" she shouted, holding the door open.
Jake slammed the Jeep into park and jumped out, engine still running. "How much time?" he asked, his heart pounding.
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"We don’t have any, Jake. I came running for you the moment I heard on the security comms that you were back."
As they raced down the long, white tunnel, their footfalls echoed, mingling with the thrum of the ventilation system and the growing cacophony of music. The air hung thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic, tinged with a faint, metallic tang. The beat of "In the Hall of the Mountain King" grew louder, blaring from the lab room. Jake winced. He hadn't even had time to grab his earplugs. Janet thrust a pair into his hands. He shoved them in his ears as Janet used her keycard to open the door.
They burst into the room as the music reached a crescendo. Blood trickled from Jake's nose immediately as a roar of pain crashed through his brain. The air crackled with ozone. In the center of the room, Subject KR was lashed to the chair, an electrode cap attached to his shaved head. Blue bolts of lightning flashed from his cloudy white eyes. The smell of burning hair mingled with the coppery scent of blood made Jake’s head spin. Next to the subject, one of Jake’s favorite people in the lab, Bernard was frozen, a look of horror and pain locked in a rictus grimace on his face, lab coat soaked in crimson. Blood poured from his nose, eyes, and ears, staining his white beard.
Janet raced for Bernard as Jake grabbed the syringes filled with blue glowing liquid.
Gotta stop him… gotta save Bernard…
He jammed one into the subject’s neck, pushing the plunger until it was empty. The room went silent as Bernard collapsed into Janet’s arms, taking them both to the ground.
The restraining collar sat open on the tray. Jake grabbed it, desperately trying to fasten it around the neck of the subject, now frothing at the mouth, while trying to bite him. Jake held his breath until the glowing red light on the collar blinked green.
Subject KR’s eyes slowly closed, and he ceased his thrashing. The music cut off. Then, Stanton's voice, smooth, almost conversational, but laced with an undercurrent of venom, filled the room.
"Jake. What. Was. That?"
Jake leaned forward, hands on his knees, facing the blood. Too much of it. He fought back bile as it forced its way upward. "Saving Bernard," he said, looking at the old man in Janet's arms. She didn’t dare to look up. "Or at least I hope I did."
"We had almost reached optimal levels."
"I’m sorry, sir."
"Clean up your mess and come to my office." The speaker clicked off.
Jake spit a clump of coppery blood onto the floor. It landed with a wet splat, a stark crimson stain on the sterile white tile. The metallic taste lingered in his mouth.
He pushed the intercom button. “Security and clean-up crew to Lab One. And bring a body bag.” He turned, his gaze falling on Bernard. Janet still cradled his head, tears silently streaming down her face.
She clutched his hand, her fingers tightening around his cold, clammy skin. "Bernard…" she whispered, her voice choked with tears.
“Wipe your tears before he sees.” Jake whispered as he took in a deep breath.
Janet nodded as their eyes met for a fleeting moment, a shared look of grief and helplessness, before Jake turned away, steeling himself for what came next.