The Company [Ongoing]

10 - Shovel It

In the dark, James flailed and pulled at whatever had attached itself to his helmet. He yelled for Bill to help, staggering around, totally lost for directions. A sharp pain sliced his right cheek, just below his eye. He couldn't breathe in the stinking air. Another sharp, burning hot sensation hit his right temple. James screamed. He would lose his face to this thing.

A heavy force and muted metallic clang pushed him sideways so hard he fell. Then he smashed into something and jolted to a stop, hitting his head on the inside of the helmet. His hands and knees connected with the hard floor, and he rolled.

A bright light blinded him and loud squeals and thumps resounded in bright clarity. Confused, James blinked and looked around. The weight over his head and shoulders was gone.

'No, you don't!' Bill roared, followed by another loud bang and squeal.

Panting, James sat up, his head, shoulders, and hands pounding with each heartbeat. A flashlight lay beside him on the floor. He grabbed for it and shone the light towards the noise. Bill stood panting, bent over the shovel he carried, currently used as a steadying stick. James directed the light down, to the long, many-legged, segmented body lying there in a pool of blood. A few legs still twitched.

'What the...' he breathed. What was that?

Bill's head snapped around to regard him at the sound of his voice. 'You alright, man?'

James took a moment to consider the question. Was he alright? Hell no. Was he in one piece? It seemed like it. He went through his entire body, making sure no parts were missing. No bones broken. No eyes gouged out, his nose was still there. Thank the Seven. Only the visor was missing, the unpleasant, pungent air of the facility stinging his eyes and nose.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' he replied.

Bill walked up to him, the stained shovel placed over his shoulder, and reached out a hand. James grabbed it thankfully, and was pulled to his feet.

'You're bleeding,' Bill stated and shone his light in James' face for a second.

'Yeah, feels like it,' James agreed, squinting.

'Can you breathe?'

'Uh... not sure. Doesn't feel great.'

'Here.' Bill tossed what looked like an old dirty scarf to him.

He looked at it for a moment before deciding it might be worth it after all, and draped it around his head, over his nose and mouth. Wouldn't help his stinging eyes, but might protect him a little from the stale air. That's when he noted the lack of steam.

'Hey! You turned off the steam.'

'Yeah. Found a valve further up and had just turned it when you started making a ruckus here. Hurried back as soon as I could.' He grinned for a second.

'Hell, yeah, that thing came out of nowhere,' James muttered, still shaken from the experience.

Bill pointed up to the ceiling. 'They hang above and drop down on people sometimes. Terrifying buggers.'

'You...' James shut his mouth. He'd been about to accuse Bill of knowing about them, but then Bill couldn't know exactly where they'd be, or when, and in the steam they couldn't have seen it anyway. And he had come running to save his ass. 'Thank you,' he said instead.

Bill nodded. 'Let's go.'

'Wait!' James didn't have the walkie-talkie and looked around on the floor. There. He picked it up, and saw that it had been turned off. Probably from the impact as he dropped it. Rebecca must wonder what happened. He turned it on, and almost immediately her voice, hissing with static, came through.