The Program [COMPLETED]

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Aiden, Zariah and Virgil treaded downwards, along the route that Roman had drawn out for them that would take them underneath the Eskium warehouse. It was dark, their only sources of light the pale lanterns that Zariah had fished from her pack hours before.

They'd been walking for likely two hours, and Aiden couldn't help but wonder how their troops were faring above. The battle must have been in full swing by now. He hoped that Roman, Farley and Theo had everything under control.

Suddenly, a vile stench made Aiden's eyes water. Virgil and Zariah faced similar effects, covering their noses and mouths and gagging heavily.

"What the fuck is that?" Virgil exclaimed in a muffled voice.

"Dunno. Further down the tunnel maybe?" Aiden coughed.

"Is it gas?" Virgil suggested.

"I don't think so," Zariah shook her head. "It seems unlikely that we were being followed."

"But not impossible," Aiden pointed out. "Stay sharp. I'll take point."

They followed Aiden deeper down the tunnel, weapons level in case of an enemy ambush. Keeping low, they continued, until they spotted a dark frame laying motionless against the side of the tunnel.

Virgil approached the figure, kicking it once before raising his gun so that it was eye-level with the strange being. Disgusted, he jumped back, a handful of rats screeching in protest and scampering away into the darkness. The body's head slumped to the side, bite marks clearly visible on the man's face, his eyes bulging and expression seemingly frozen in terror.

"Well, the good news is that it's not gas," Aiden grunted.

"That's disgusting," Virgil backed away, joining Aiden and Zariah, his face green.

"If that isn't a warning sign to get out of here, I don't know what is," Zariah shuddered. "Looks like this poor son of a bitch is an Eskium soldier."

"He's got something on him," Aiden said suddenly, noticing the small pack beside the man's decaying body. Groaning, he moved closer to the foul smelling corpse, snatching the bag from him as quickly as he could, his fingers fumbling to open the zipper.

Peering inside, he stopped, his eyes wide. Zariah and Virgil moved in closer to see the contents of the enemy soldier's pack.

"Explosives," Aiden reported, slowly sealing the bag.

"That's an understatement," Virgil retorted. "There's enough in there to blow up an entire fucking armada of ships."

"How'd he die?" Aiden asked, scanning the body tentatively.

Zariah's eyes narrowed as she analyzed the Eskium soldier with freakish precision.

"Single gunshot wound to the head," she guessed. "You can see the entry point. It's self inflicted."

"How do you know?" Virgil demanded. "Someone else could've shot him."

"I don't think so. His gun is still in his hand, and the muzzle's soaked in blood. I guess he couldn't take it anymore," Zariah turned away, coughing heavily.

"Let's get the hell out of this tunnel," Aiden grumbled, carefully picking up the pack.

Thirty minutes later, the three soldiers reached the end of the tunnel. Above them was a metal grate, rusted and worn, its only access point a tall, industrial-looking metal ladder. They could hear the sound of distant gunfire and shouting, followed by explosions and thousands of footsteps thudding against the ground.

"How are we supposed to get out of this hellhole?" Virgil exasperated. "Whoever goes out there might as well write their eulogy in advance. You'd be shot in a second."