Author’s note -
For those of you who have never read any of the Journey Of St. Laurent before: You are now reading an online serial pulp novel. If you didn’t start at the beginning, you may want to do so. Chapter 1: Down By The Bay. In fact, if you are new to the site, you may want to start with the first novel, Oasis. If you want to know just as soon as I’ve posted something new, you can watch the RSS feed or follow me on Twitter.
Devin, you’re awesome. Keep spreading the word. Darcknyt, thanks for continually steering me away from the passive voice. Noah, don’t let my snarkyness stop you from making comments. Glenn, always good to hear from you.
And thanks to everybody else who takes the time to read my poor little fictions.
50 – Exodus into Darkness
By the time my legs straightened underneath me and tensed to motor me toward the door, I wished that we had a better plan than “Run.” My muscles ached, my joints creaked, and the wounds in my side screamed for attention. Of course, under the circumstances, perhaps “Run” was the only plan to be had.
Rhett led the charge, running from behind the tanks and scooping up his fallen weapon. His pimped out AR-15 sang three times, silencing forever the two thrashing aliens that had been knocked back by the Molotov cocktail.
The smoke intensified as the suit of the second alien caught fire.
I stepped from behind the tanks.
Rhett belted out a primal yell and fled into the hallway.
My brain resisted the idea of rushing headlong into open flames and thick smoke. My legs refused to go forward. I told myself that unpleasant death was certain if I stayed put, and at least there was a chance at survival if I attempted the fiery hallway.
London gave me a push. “Come on. Hurry.”
My skin bristled with the heat pouring in through the doorway. I sucked in a deep breath of hot, rancid air tinged with smoke and gritted my teeth. No other choice. No other choice. No other choice. I squeezed my left arm close and plunged into the inferno.
The hellish corridor swallowed me up and tried to cook me alive.
I jumped over the dead alien that was in my way.
My wet pant legs sizzled as I splashed down in the flaming liquid in the hallway. If I hadn’t been thoroughly soaked from the knees down, I’m sure I would have gone up like a match.
Through squinted eyes I could see Rhett’s form hunched over and coughing several yards beyond the flames. The smoke burned my eyes and heat seared my lungs.
Three or four steps is a long way to go if they are through a furnace. The inferno burned up the oxygen I wanted to breathe and my whole body shook from pain and weakness. For those three or four steps, I dug down deep for the energy to keep going. All at once, I was clear of the flames.
I only baked amongst the flames for one second, maybe two, but it had sapped my stamina like blow to the stomach. My muscular system entered into open revolt. My legs wobbled and I stumbled then fell to my knees.
London emerged from the fire, took one look at the situation, and grabbed the back of my shirt. “Not time to rest yet, big guy.”
I coughed. “I think it was water in those tanks.”
I was sure that I didn’t have the strength to stand up on my own. She must have yanked me to my feet. Before I knew it I was weaving my way down the corridor.
The smoke and flames masked our hasty retreat and bought us a little time.
I wondered how long the fire would burn hot enough to bar the aliens from giving chase. Not long. And who knows what we’re going to run into this way?
A bright light flashed near my head and the glass in a pod up ahead shattered.
I glanced back through the fire and haze and saw the wavy form of an alien with a bizarre stick rifle thing.
It fired again, but the shot went wide to our left.
I made an attempt to run, but my legs would have none of it.
The unmistakable report of a firearm rang out. Are we shooting back? I looked around. It hadn’t come from one of us. That meant the rounds in Rhett’s makeshift firebombs were finally getting hot enough to discharge.
It was like angry popcorn from hell. At first there were one or two bangs, but before you knew it, the hallway was filled with the sound of a hundred gunshots.
The alien shouting went up several decibels and they all sprinted away from the fire. A few of the shells ricocheted down our way and whizzed right on by us. Luck alone prevented us from being shot down by our own ammunition.
Rhett couldn’t run. He gasped for air, and the virus sickened him worse and worse by the minute. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He grunted and moaned with the exertion of movement.
I couldn’t run, either. I was lucky to still be on my feet at all. At least one of my wounds opened up again and a fresh trickle of blood ran down my side. Every awkward step tore at the broken edges of my skin. My lungs begged for fresh air.
London didn’t run, even though I thought she still had it in her. She stuck by me and made sure I didn’t collapse in the middle of the floor.
The reflected light of the fire grew distant and we pushed ourselves into ever-deepening darkness. What didn’t seem to go away was the smoke.
I holstered the pistol to allow an open hand to feel along the wall of pods.
We took the first right hand turn available, then a left turn. The noises of our enemies muddled and faded and echoed. Whatever they were doing, they weren’t getting closer to us, at least not yet. Perhaps the darkness of the corridor kept them from finding their way, too.
Pods, pods, pods. Wall after wall after wall of pods. We turned down several more random hallways, and in all of them we discovered more of the stinking pods. For all I could tell, the aliens could grow an army at least one million strong.
There was no way of knowing where we were or if we were wandering in circles. Our pace slowed as our exhaustion and injuries caught up with us.
Rhett flipped on the light attached to his rifle. The pods around us were completely empty, no mystery liquid, no alien body, nothing.
London pointed at a nearby stack. “How long have we been walking near empty pods?”
I looked at her. “More worrying to me is why they are empty. Are they newly built and waiting to grow their first aliens, or did they just become empty after raising one batch to maturity?”
Rhett stared off into space.
Even in the reflected light, I could tell something about his eyes didn’t look right. They looked empty. He’s getting worse.
I nodded to the big guy. “Rhett, how are you holding up?”
Rhett turned away and grunted, then clicked off his light.
We walked on, but I didn’t know how much longer we could keep it up.
Several minutes later, London chirped in shock then spoke. “Hey guys, check it out, they stop.”
Rhett clicked on his light again. The endless rows of alien-growing pods came to an end. We weren’t leaving the base though. The walls here were covered with some strange kind of bluish-silver spray-on metal.
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not.
Rhett groaned and doubled over. All the physical activity had obviously sped up the spread of the virus that was going to claim his life. It caused all manner of pain now, but soon it would take over his body.
If London and I weren’t careful, the virus would take our lives as well. Pretty soon we’d have to abandon Rhett to die alone.
The very thought of it churned in my guts.
Keep Reading! Chapter 51 is here.
(There’s a lot of ‘em in this section, but overall, I’d say you’re getting better. 