Plantagion

Chapter 8

Tears stream down from my eyes. I cocked the pistol, ready to end my trials. How bad can it be, dying? It’s just like sleeping, except you never wake up.  No one would notice my passing. My captors would just toss me out the window. My parents wouldn’t know what happened. I don’t really have any other family, friends. Then a thought struck me. Eryn. I can’t leave him now. He would do the same for me.

I got up, wiping away my tears with bloodstained hands. I knew that I had to get out of there. I walked over to the bodies of the dead guards , looking for a key card of some kind to access the lift. I checked all the pockets of the first guard. Empty. I checked the pockets of the second guard. A pack of cigarettes and a silver chip with some type of indentation on  it. Bingo! I ran over to the place where the door to the lift had  and searched for a slot in the wall where I could insert the chip. I ran over the wall with my hand, searching for divots. I could hear shouts in the distance. Concentrate. I told myself. I ran my hand over to the right, and I felt a little slit. I inserted the chip, and the door slid open.

I got in, and immediately afterwards, a barrage of bullets comes  from down the hall. It seemed as if reinforcements had arrived. “Shit,” I muttered, and reached for my Steyr-TMP. It wasn’t there, instead only a Glock. “Fuck.” I had left the Steyr over with Pluter, and Pluter also had new magazines. I had to get over there. I saw five more security guards coming down the hall, so I took cover behind the control panel of the lift. I checked what was left in the magazine. Five bulets. “Shit,” I muttered. There would have to be some type of motherfucking miracle. to get me out of it. And I don’t believe in miracles.

I glanced around the corner. The guards were still approaching. I would have to take them out quickly, because there wouild definitely be more. I turned the corner and took one knee. I let loose one bullet, two bullets, three. I took three of them out before they knew what was coming. As for the other two, it would be more complex. I ducked back behind the control panel, taking short breaths, waiting for another barrage of bullets. If my estimates had been accurate, the guards’ guns would need reloading afterwards. They fired more bullets, and I waited for a little pause.

Short seconds later, it arrived, and I turned the corner and let loose two more bullets, hitting the guards in their heads. Blood and brain matter sprayed everywhere. At that point, I didn’t really care. I ran over to where PLuter’s body was, grabbed a few magazines from inside his coat, my Steyr-Tmp, and an Uzi that was hidden in his coat. I kissed him on the cheek, and promised to never stop until whoever was responsible for his death was brought to justice. I was snapped back to reality when a bullet whistled over my head. Time to fly. I thought and ran towards the lift, letting out short bursts of bullets behind me from the Steyr. I pushed the button that was labeled “Ground Level” and the door slid shut. I crouched behind the control panel as the elevator began to rise. Why is it rising? I looked at the control panel. It had the same layout as an ordinary lift. With the numbers ranging from 1 to 20, with the 1 being on the bottom and the 2o being on the top. I had pressed “Ground Level” which normally takes one down, and yet I was rising. Someone could be controlling the elevator, but it seemed as if all hands had been put on deck to stop Pluter and I. So what other explanation was there? I’m underground… I thought. I immediately knew I was right, because I could feel a change as the elevator neared the end of its ascent. It was as if the air was different.

But as I dwelled on this revelation, another and more pressing matter occurred to me. There were probably guards waiting for me at the twentieth level. I glanced at the interface that said what level the traveler was at. Fifteen. Then sixteen. “Shit.” I punched at the button labeled “One,” and seconds later, the lift had reached its destination. the door opened to reveal an empty hallway. I smiled, and took a step out of the lift. The hall was empty, but I knew that once the lift opened at the ground level, they would discover that I had gotten off on some lower level.

I walked straight ahead, keeping a wary eye out for guards. There must be some stairs that go up one flight. I thought. I reached the end of the hall, looked right, then left, and there was a door to my left, labeled “Emergency Stairs.” I started to run over to the stairs, but I heard guards coming out of the elevator behind me. I turned, looked around the corner, and then let loose a barrage of bullets at the ten security guards that had managed to fit themselves into one lift. Several crumpled but that was all that I was going to do.

I ran over to the doorway to the stairs, and inserted my chip into a slot to the right of the door. A red light turned green, and I opened the door. I ran up the stairs two at a time, and stopped when I reached the top, out of breath. As a head researcher at the lab, I really didn’t get much exercise, but somehow I managed to stay in okay shape. I looked through the little slit in the door, and saw no one. I pened just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I was surprised to see a window across the hall, but the was nothing but darkness outside. I looked around, trying to spot some exit. There was nothing to reveal the existence of one.

I heard shouts coming from an adjacent corridor. I ran back into the stairwell. There was a sign that said Roof and pointed up the next flight of stairs. How had I not seen it? I ran up the flight, inserted the chip into a slit next to a door at the top of the staircase. I ran out and immediately stumbled and fell. It was blindingly bright. I rose slowly to my feet, my surroundings slowly coming into focus. I felt a deafening wind in coming from in front of me. I could hear a strange noise. Is that a helicopter? I thought. As soon as I had heard it I knew it was. I could finally see, so I opened my eyes fully. The door to the helicopter was open, and an armed man about six feet tall and very muscular gestured for me to get in. Just then, I heard the door to the roof open behind me. The man gestured again, and I started to sprint to the helicopter.

The man fired his weapon, and bullets flew over me to reach the oncoming crowd of guards, I heard some fall, but others fired back. I felt bullets fly past me. I was about ten feet from the helicopter when I felt a pain like no other explode in my side. I’d been shot.

“Shit,” I screamed and stumbled, trying to make it to the helicopter. I was ready to collapse when two other well-built men appeared at the door to the helicopter. They hoisted me in, and I was placed on a stretcher, and immediately a doctor had appeared at my side. He was a balding man in his early forties. He had a concerned expression that you might associate with a worried parent. He was vaguely familiar.

“Stay with us, Madeleine.” Something in his voice reminded me of the training sessions with Pluter. I started to speak. My vision was getting fuzzy.

“Pluter…” I started to say, but the doctor shushed me.

“Just relax. Everything will be alright.” His voice was so reassuring. I believed him so strongly. The last thing I saw before passing out was the roof of the building where I had been held prisoner. It was covered with blood.