The Genesis Illusion

Chapter 53

The terrifying sight of light flooding into the room stabbed Paul's eyes as if made of a million tiny flaming daggers. Holding his breath, curled up in the laboratory bench knee-hole, Paul crouched silently. A man's pant-legs walked past him and a metal on metal squeak indicated a cabinet opening. Water splashed in a sink nearby and then the hollow echo of water filling a container. The person making tea was only steps away. I have to breathe. Paul took short shallow breaths not making a sound. The person shut off the faucet and then walked a few steps back and forth. He heard the clink of a glass container landing on a hot plate. The open door, only two steps from Paul, offered an impossible escape.

"Don't forget the sugar," a female voice shouted from the living area down the hall.

"I remembered," the man making the tea shouted back.

The usually pleasant odor of tea instead attacked Paul's nose. He just wanted it to go away. Boiling water gurgled in the container in front of where the man stood only inches from Paul's hiding place. Paul held his breath again. He's so close. I can smell his leather shoes. Paul cupped his hand over his mouth so he could breathe into it. I've got to breathe. I've got to breathe. Paul again took short breaths into his hand. He heard the man pick up the teapot and remove it from the hot plate.

He never before noticed the sounds of preparing tea. Tearing paper to open the tea-bag envelope, boiling water filling the teacup, clinking of a ceramic sugar container lid placed on the counter, and a metal spoon stirring the water in the cup. What only lasted a minute seemed a terror-filled eternity. Leave, leave right now. I need to breathe.

The now familiar legs shuffled toward the door. Then he heard a tiny sound, he amplified a thousand times. Something is rolling on the counter. Something small rocked side to side on the bench top inching toward the edge, making the almost imperceptible sound. Oh no, not now.

The ceramic sugar container lid landed, without breaking, on the resilient chemical resistant laboratory floor with a clunk, rolling to a stop a few inches from Paul's feet.

The legs stopped at the open door. Paul held his breath, this time without thinking. The legs turned back toward him. He sat petrified, still as a stone, crouched with his head lowered and his eyes staring at the legs standing in front of him. An arm reached down to grasp the sugar bowl lid. A head faced down to see the fingers on his hand pinch the smooth shinny object. Then the wasp-like head rotated slowly as if unattached and Paul saw every blood vessel and each eyelash of its horrific coal-black eyes.

The man lurched up drawing away toward the open door screaming, "There's someone here. Someone's hiding in the lab. Come quick, come quick."

When the man ran out Paul jumped from his hiding place. I've got a get out of here now. He leapt toward the door but another man was already there, blocking his escape. The powerful man grabbed and tossed him to the floor like a little doll. Paul struggled but the huge man easily held him with only one hand. Paul quickly realized his struggle was hopeless.

"I've got him down," his captor said. "What you want me to do?" Paul heard at least two others standing outside the door talking.

"Hold him down I'll give him a shot, then we can talk about what we want to do next," a man with an Australian accent said.

"What are you doing here?" the captor asked Paul. "Are you trying to steal something?" Paul's captor pushed his face hard into the solid floor. The man sat straddling Paul's back, his weight pushed the air out making him gasp. What shot? I've got a get out. I can't move. Maybe he's a bodyguard? Paul's couldn't move his head pinned to the floor by the large man but it was turned toward the open door. Three people, two men and a woman dressed formally like they were ready for a special event, stood in the doorway talking. The tall man came into the lab stepping over Paul. Paul heard him fiddling with something.

"Hold him tight how," the tall man said. "I'll inject him in the arm." An Australian accent. "I don't want to have a problem with the needle. All I could find was a dose used for the rat experiment. It'll last less than an hour and the needle is fragile." Paul was still struggling, but it was no use. The Australian man put his knees on Paul's arm to help hold it steady. Paul felt the sting of the needle puncture his skin. "We'll give a multi-day dose later."

"That'll do it," the Australian proclaimed, as he lowered his head to speak into Paul's ear. "Now you'll be ours."

After the injection the captor released Paul's arm but still saddled on his back. "You can get up now," the captor said sliding off to one side. "Who the hell are you and why are you here?"

Paul could now clearly see all three of the others. The man who injected him appeared to be an Australian as he guessed by his accent. The other two looked Chinese. His captor appeared to be Chinese, but he was huge. The others were older and resembled many locals, short and thin.

Paul's captor momentarily released his grip to let Paul up off the floor. This is my chance. Paul lunged past him, diving at the fire alarm on the wall next to the door.

The ear splitting shriek and blinding strobe light of the fire alarm sounded. In that instant there was confusion. The guard grabbed at Paul but he slithered away into the hall pushing past the others standing bewildered near the door. Running down the hall to the exit door he heard a commotion behind him but didn't look.

As Paul reached the buffet area, he heard shouts from the Australian, "Come to the Botanical Garden Shaw Amphitheater at seven o'clock. Come to the Botanical Garden Shaw Amphitheater at seven o'clock. I command, you must come. You must come."

Paul exploded out of the door knocking two men standing there flying back landing on the hallway floor. Unbalanced he fell tumbling forward. It's the real caterer and his boss. Stunned he picked himself up, leaving his two bewildered victims, and ran down the corridor toward the elevator. I can't wait for the elevator. The stairs, the door is right here. He leaped down the stairs skipping most of them, almost diving down the three flights. I don't hear anyone coming maybe they took the elevator? Reaching the ground floor he ran through the vacant lobby to the taxi stand outside only a few steps from the door.

He dove into the backseat of a waiting taxi. "Drive, hurry," Paul begged.