Page 12 of Glass Rose
He turns a corner and suddenly stops. I crane my neck to see why, and my stomach lurches. A security guard lies face-down in a pool of congealing blood, the back of his head a ruined mess. But no Infected in sight. Subject 7 sets me down abruptly, and I catch myself against the wall.
“Turn around.” He kneels beside the corpse.
“What are you?—”
“Turn. Around.” Each word clipped, brooking no argument.
“Okay.” Behind me, I hear the wet sounds of fabric being peeled from cooling flesh. The rustle of clothing being donned.
“You can look now,” he says after a moment.
I turn back to find him dressed in the guard’s tactical uniform, the shirt stretching a little tight across his broad shoulders, the rest fitting surprisingly well. He grabs the guard’s access card, clipping it to his belt, then bends to retrieve the sidearm that had fallen nearby and tucks it into his waistband.
“You know how to use that?” I ask.
His mouth quirks in what might be amusement. “Yes, Dr. Cruz. I do.” He extends his hand again. “Shall we?”
This time, I take it. I learned not to refuse what he offers.
“Eight minutes to evacuation,” the PA system announces.
We sprint through the corridor, his grip on my wrist tight enough to bruise, and somehow that’s the only thing I welcome right now. The emergency lights paint everything in red pulses, turning the white walls into something from a nightmare. Ahead, two figures brace themselves against a metal cabinet, its legs screeching across the tiles as Infected slam against the door behind it. One of them is familiar.
“Alex!” He’s alive.
He whips around, camera around his neck. “Sofia? Holy shit, you’re alive?”
The second figure turns. Dr. Cho from biochem, her lab coat spattered with blood, glasses askew. She flinches when she sees my companion, eyes widening at his bloodied security uniform.
“Who the fuck is that?” Alex demands, backing away slightly.
“Gavin,” Sub—Gavin says.
“Security,” I say. “He found me after you disappeared.”
Alex has the decency to look ashamed, but only for a second. “I lost you out of my sight, and suddenly you were gone.”
I was gone? “I?—”
The door buckles inward, gnarled fingers clawing through the gap.
“A little help here.” Dr. Cho throws her weight against the cabinet. “I can’t hold it!”
Gavin draws his weapon. “Move.”
Alex and Dr. Cho scramble away, and the cabinet topples. The Infected pour through the opening, but Gavin fires three times in rapid succession, dropping them one by one.
“Let’s go.” He checks the magazine on his weapon.
“Who put you in charge?” Alex straightens to his full height—still several, several… inches shorter than Gavin.
“I put myself in charge when I decided not to let you all die.” He grabs my hand. “Unless you have a better plan?”
Alex’s jaw works, but no comeback emerges.
“Six minutes to evacuation,” the PA system chirps, too cheerful for the bloody hellscape surrounding us.
“This way.” Gavin tugs me after him. “The main exits will be overrun. We’re taking maintenance tunnels.”
