Evasion

Escaping the lab as the security door was closing, the seven desperados entered a long brightly lit hallway, three doors on the right and two more on the left before the hallway turned ninety degrees to the left. There was nowhere to possibly hide in the hall, the polished light grey surface gleaming under the fluorescent overhead lights.

The closest door was on the not too distant up ahead on the right. The gap below this door was slightly more substantial than the door to the lab and all of them men were able to squeeze under into a darkened space that appeared to be some type of janitorial storage/mop room. There were metal shelves with box along wither wall and at the back was a yellow molded plastic mop bucket, a large plastic sink and a drain.

“What now?” asked Marcellus, bent at the waist, breathing hard from the exertion of running hard.

“We can’t stay here,” breathed Hodge, shaking his head, breath coming in gasps.

“This is your master plan? Leading us into desperate flight? Two dead already,” Maynard said snidely.

“We have to keep moving, put some distance between us and them,” Jack said, controlling his breathing.

“Then what? Escape into the night? This is a fool’s folly,” Maynard commented, looking to the others for support in the gloomy room, light filtering in under the door from the brightly lit hall beyond.

Ignoring Maynard, Jack swept his eyes over the other members of the group. “There were a bunch of doors ahead in the hall, I think we need to check them out, see what options are out there. I don’t think we have much chance remaining here,” he offered.

“I’ll go,” offered Hector.

“Give me a minute to catch my wind,” Marcellus said, gulping air, massive muscular chest heaving.

John looked at Jack, “You think we should split into two groups, one for either side of the hall?” he asked.

“Looking for what?” challenged Maynard, stepping forward. “Please, tell us, what are we looking for?”

Jack turned to face the doctor, his one good eye cold, “A place to hole up, figure shit out,” he replied through clenched teeth. “Not here, not now,” he seethed.

Maynard laughed, a mocking sound. “Why don’t you tell that to your friend Russell?” he sniped, condescending smirk on the side of his face as he extended a hand toward Jack.

Marcellus suddenly appeared behind Maynard, big hands grabbing the doctor by either side of his head. With a quick twist, there was a crack, the sound of bones breaking, seeming to reverberate in the darkened space. Maynard voided himself, bladder and bowels emptying.

“Getting tired of that bitch running his mouth,” he said, still breathing hard and tossing Maynard’s body to the side.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Jack, startled by the abrupt move.

 Marcellus shrugged and shook his head, “That fool been asking for it the whole time,” he said, justifying himself.

“It’s true homes,” Hector said, nodding and presenting a fist to Marcellus, who in return made a fist of his own and gave him a bump.

“Despite the fact that he was an ignorant prick, we might have needed his medical expertise, or scientific knowledge to figure out how to reverse this process. I serious doubt given our current situation we’re going to be able to intimidate any of the women we’ve encountered thus far to do what we want,” Jack said, eye locked onto the dead physician.

Walking a short off, Jack shook his head. Maynard had been right. What was the plan? Run. But to where? There was nowhere to escape to as long as they were small. They needed to be restored. How? This wasn’t the time for strategizing, it was time to move.

“Listen, this is how things are going to play out right here right now, no more fucking killing each other. We’ll split into two, John, you take Hodge and Hector and scout the two rooms on the other wall, I’ll take Mordred and Marcellus and we’ll see what’s behind the two doors on this side of the hall,” he suggested.

“I would prefer to remain here for the time being, on account of the light,” Mordred said, rubbing his arms to try and sooth the burning sensation he felt in his pale flesh.

Jack nodded, “No guarantees we can meet back up,” he cautioned, tilting his head to the side as if to say, ‘You’re on your own’.

Mordred smiled, “Of course,” he replied, nodding. Whether from the exposure to the light in the lab or the hall, or the stress attached to the escape, for whatever reason, he could feel a violent episode coming on, one of those homicidal blackouts associated with the illness.

“How do you signal each other if we want to communicate?” Hodge asked, looking from John to Jack.

“We’ll have to figure it out on the fly,” Jack replied, “For now, we need to get the hell out of,” his words trailed off as the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps sounded from the hall.

Moving to the door, several of the men dropped down to watch the gigantic woman dressed in dark trousers and a white blouse stop at the lab door and swipe her security card before pushing open the door.

Looking over to John, Jack nodded, “Go,” he urged.

John nodded back, flicking a quick glance to Hector and Hodge, “Let’s move,” he said, sliding out under the door followed by the other two men.

Jack got back to his feet, looking to Mordred, “We wouldn’t be here without your help,” he said.

Mordred raised a hand and smiled, “Perhaps, but you two should go,” he said. “Now.” He could feel his grasp slipping, his will yielding to base impulse. Though he felt no animosity toward either man, in fact, he found he quite like Jack, but when the red rage was upon him, he could not distinguish friend from foe.

“Come on,” called Marcellus.

Jack nodded slowly, a gesture of gratitude and respect, before following the big black man under the door.