Rob nodded. “Uh… exactly. You’re deflecting. Avoiding what’s uh… really going on…”
Fran wished Rob wouldn’t help her. “Look… it doesn’t matter what the explanation is. The real question is… what are we going to do?”
“Wait it out,” Guy said. “See if the sun rises in the morning. If it does, maybe these things will go away. If it doesn’t… then we’ll make a decision.”
“Wait it out? All night in here? Are you crazy?
“Uh… I hardly think that’s a good idea…”
“I can’t stay here, I have to check on Cynthia…”
They all jumped when Guy slammed the shotgun on the table. “Let’s all pretend I’m not the only one with brains for once. Think. Third shift isn’t going to show up. Why? Because this whole place is flooded. Maybe they’re dead, or even turned into those Others. Maybe the whole city is like that. Maybe…
He took a deep breath.
“Maybe the whole world. There’s no telling how far this has spread.”
Drake groaned as he slumped back into his chair and wrapped his arms around his head. Fran looked at Michael, who appeared as stunned as she felt. Rob stood slack-jawed; one eye twitched uncontrollably.
“We wait it out,” Guy said. “So far they haven’t made it inside. We’ll see if the sun rises.”
“I can’t.” Apprehension contorted the muscles of Michael’s face. “I can’t leave Cynthia by herself with this going on.” His eyes darted wildly.
“I have to get out of here, I have to…”
“If the city is like this, she’s probably dead already,” Guy said in his doomsayer voice. His voice was almost hypnotic; Fran wanted to cover her ears from the certainty in his tone. Michael choked on a sob as Guy droned on.
“Or trapped like we are. In which case you’d be better off waiting here than risk dying out there. You’re no good to her dead. We have to stick together. We have to act as though we’re the last people left alive.”
Fran caught hold of Michael’s arm. “He’s right.” She hated to say so, but she’d do anything to keep Michael from leaving, even if it meant agreeing with Guy. “You’d do no one any good running out into that. Stay with us until the morning.”
Michael’s chest heaved as though he’d run a marathon. His eyes squeezed shut. “Cynthia…”
Finally, he nodded. “Ok. Ok, dammit. But you’d better be right, Guy. You’d better be right.”
“You guys have lost it.” Drake leaped to his feet. His mouth seemed too large as the words tumbled out. “Are you forgetting that something tore Greg to pieces? Probably threw Reese off the building, too. Something is in here, right now. Waiting to attack again. I’m not gonna die at this goddamn job. I’m getting the hell outta of here.”
“You’re welcome to go, Drake,” Guy said. “But you won’t make it. Not on your own. And not with those Others guarding the exits. But you’re right. Something is in here.”
He tapped the shotgun on his shoulder. “And we’re going to have to kill it.”
Everyone silently stared at each other.
Michael slowly cleared his throat. “You mean… actually search the mill for whatever… killed Greg?”
“And Reese.” Guy’s face was expressionless. “That’s right. You can bet that it won’t be satisfied with just one kill. It’s either hunt… or be hunted.”
Fran shook her head. She had to be the one to make them see reason. Anything but go along with Guy’s insane ideas… “We don’t even know if the thing is still in the mill. Wandering around looking for something that tears people apart sounds like the last thing that we should be doing.”
Drake nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. I… saw what that thing did to Greg. I’m not going anywhere… unless it’s the hell out of here.”
Rob tittered nervously. “Uh, well.” He scrubbed his hands together. “Uh… I suggest we vote on the best option, since…”
Fran tried hard not to flinch as Guy gestured with the shotgun. “I suggest we don’t. The Aberration only grows more severe the longer it manifests. Think — there are tools in the maintenance shop that can be used as weapons. And we still have electricity…”
As if on cue the lights snuffed with a dying groan, plunging them in darkness.
The Second Cessation
Fingers dug painfully in Michael’s arm. He had to stop his automatic reflex in mid-swing upon realizing it was Fran. Her chipmunk squeal was the only identifier; the sudden death of illumination cast them all into the realm of blindness. She clutched like an attacking squid; every time he detached one grip, several more seemed to latch onto him. All the while he silently prayed this wasn’t the nudge that sent Guy over the edge of insanity and into a panicked shooting frenzy.
Instead, it was Guy’s composed voice that broke through their startled cries. “Everyone calm down.” Oddly enough, he sounded completely logical. “The emergency lights should kick in right about… now.”
The lights clicked on, effusing the room in a reddish glare. It was just the right amount to be insufficient; a hellish glow that twisted shadows and spawned perverse misinterpretations.
Guy’s silhouette was rooted in the same spot, shotgun resting on his shoulder. “Listen — the mill’s still running.”
Michael realized Guy was right. Outside the lab the roar of the mill was distinctly audible, a whirring, emotionless organism unimpressed by the theatrics that took place within its innards.
“Uh… well then, uh…” Rob was on stammer mode again.
Michael decided to take over. “Then it means someone cut off the lights… purposely.”
“I knew it…” Drake looked ready to return to his shell-shocked mental haven. “I knew living through the night was too much to ask.”
“Uh… exactly what I was going to say.” Rob was a nervously twitching scarecrow in the shadows. “This outage changes things. It means we’re up against someone, uh… intelligent. Now I don’t know if I buy what Mike and Guy claimed to see out there.”
He raised a hand to stifle their retorts. “Fear can make the mind do funny things, after all. I uh, read a book about it. The point is… uh, I’m leaving. No, not going to stay another minute here. I’ll take my chances, thank you.”
They looked at Guy. Michael realized that they had begun to defer to him for some reason. That had to make them at least as crazy as he was.
Surprisingly, he just shrugged. “OK, Rob. We have to find out one way or the other. You lead.”
It took only moments to negotiate the reddish hallway and descend the darkened stairs that led to the security door. They bunched around to peer through the narrow window at the front office and the exit door. Guy’s eyes narrowed. There was a terrible feeling of familiarity. He blinked, wincing as his vision distorted…
Everything was slightly blurry, like peering through the lens of an out of focus camera. Pale, waxen moonlight streamed in from the narrow windows of a long, dark hallway.
Too long. It walls seemed to stretch for eternity, lined by endless banners depicting the Nazi swastika.
Captain Guy was in pursuit. He was dressed in WWII army fatigues, a bayoneted rifle in his hand.
A hunched, snarling, bestial figure in a Nazi officer uniform ran ahead of Guy, panting.
Guy closed in, polished boots flashing.
Something blurred past his face with a snakelike hiss. Time slowed long enough for him to see the silver-tipped arrow. It flashed forward, striking the creature between the shoulder blades. The beast staggered forward with a agonized grunt.