𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖑 || 𝘀. 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

S3E6: E Pluribus Unum

Dustin presses his face to the glass as he looks on at the sight in front of us. "The gate."

"I don't understand. You've seen this before?" Robin asks as we hurry back down the steps to the comms room.

"Not exactly," I hesitate.

"Then what, exactly?"

"All you need to know is it's bad," Dustin answers.

"It's really bad," Steve backs him up.

"Like, end-of-the-human-race-as-we-know-it
kind of bad," Dustin continues.

"And you know about this how?" She asks.

"Guys, she's part of our team now. Just tell her!" I say. "Robin, remember when I was missing all those days of school a little while back?"

"Yeah. You said you were sick."

"We were actually—"

"Um, Steve?" Erica asks, cutting me off. "Where's your Russian friend?"

The spot on the floor the man lied on is empty except for a small drop of blood. The man Steve knocked out is no where to be seen. Sirens start blaring and strobe lights flash. On the other side of the walls, guards shout things in Russian.

Steve rushes to the door and looks out, then slams the door shut. "Shit. Go, go, go, go, go!"

We turn around and run down a hallway, but don't get far. I stop, making everyone collide with me.

Blocking us at the other end of the hallway is a guard. He's taken by surprise by our sudden appearance, but quickly recovers. A bunch of Russian starts flying out of his mouth.  Questions, I imagine, but I have no idea what he's saying.

"Steve, knife," I barely whisper.

Steve leans down a little to whisper in my ear. "He's got a gun."

"I'm aware of that, thanks."

With tiny movements, Steve quietly unzips my backpack and starts digging through it. "Let me fight him."

The Russian man becomes on edge. He speaks into his comm on his shoulder, no doubt telling the others where we are.

"No. It's my turn." I hold my hand behind my back and Steve discreetly puts my knife in my palm. "Get down when I say so," I warn them.

The guard advances, still demanding things of us in Russian.

Please hit somewhere, please hit somewhere, is all I can think. In one swift motion I throw the knife and say, "down!" and we all drop to the floor.

The knife imbeds in the guard's shoulder. He fires the gun, but the bullet whizzes over our heads. He groans in pain, muttering what I assume are curses in Russian under his breath. The gun falls out of his hand.

"Go, go, go," I tell the others.

The sounds of a mob of guards rumble down the hallway in the direction we just came from.

We run.

"That was so awesome!" Dustin beams through his panting.

The others nod in agreement.

"Thanks!" I breathe out.

"Here." Steve stops at a door and quietly turns the knob. We sneak into the room.

Now, we find ourselves in a room full of Russian scientists sat in front of control panels. They all turn to look at us and we take off again, running down a staircase to the left.