Hyper

Chapter 21 - A Familiar Smell

[Location: Outside of the Class Three, Planet Earth Refugee Transport, Elysian Fields]

Charlie stood quietly in front of the open hatch that led into the bowels of the Elysian Fields. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and he could hear the rapid beating of his heart. He slid his side arm out of the holster and stood motionless listening for any sound that might indicate the guys were inside. But he heard nothing—absolutely nothing.

Raising his gun, he proceeded to walk through the hatch. He could feel the crosshatching that had been molded into the polymer handle of the gun in the sweaty palm of his right hand as he moved slowly and cautiously down the cramped hallway, his finger resting above the trigger. His eyes and ears were dialed in to detect anything that might pose a threat.

The Army had taught him that the only time your finger should be on the trigger of a firearm was when you were shooting it. In high stress situations, it was too easy to become startled by a person, a noise, or who knows what, that might cause an uncontrolled reflex. That uncontrolled reflex might be enough to involuntarily fire the weapon if your finger was resting on the trigger. Charlie expected to see Jack and Ruben any second and did not want to accidentally shoot one of them.

Tubes of L.E.D. overhead lighting sensed Charlie’s presence and clicked on above his head as he cautiously walked down the cramped corridor. The bright white light gave off a slight buzzing sound and revealed a typical passage way designed to be used by the crew of a class three type transport ship. The space was about six feet wide and seven feet tall and had a rubberized type of flooring that was a dull red in color. The air in the passage way smelled sterile, because air scrubbers in a ship this style used an antiseptic filter to clean the re-circulated atmosphere. About ten feet ahead, Charlie could see a black metal spiral staircase that led to the deck above.

The rubber soles of his boots met the rubberized flooring and made a slight squeaking noise as he walked. When he reached the staircase, he paused for a second and then looked up to see what was above him. Charlie was able to see that the stairs led to another deck, but couldn’t tell exactly where it went. He quietly placed his boot onto the first stair then paused for a second and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He slowly climbed the staircase with his gun in a ready position, slowly lifting and placing each foot to try and muffle any evidence that he was there.

As Charlie reached the deck above him, a miniature L.E.D. spotlight sensed his presence and blinked on, lighting the floor in front of him. He saw no one. The only sound he heard was his breath rapidly moving in and out through his nostrils. The room he was in now, was dark compared to the hallway he had just exited.

Charlie let his eyes adjust, lowered his gun slightly, and looked around. After a few seconds, he realized that he had found his way to the ship’s flight deck. The area was abandoned and dark with the only light coming from the L.E.D. lighting the floor in front of him and the soft glow of the multicolored controls and screens on the pilot’s console.

The Elysian Fields was a high tech vessel and had a fully functioning cockpit for the pilot and co-pilot. The cockpit had a large window that gave the pilots a forward view outside the ship and two high-backed chairs stood in front of the console of monitors and controls.

Charlie took a few careful steps forward, walked past the cockpit, and continued down the hallway. About ten feet ahead of him, he noticed a lighted doorway on the right, so he raised his firearm to a ready position and walked toward it. He quietly made his way to the edge of the open doorway and stopped.

He stood motionless and slowed his breathing to listen. He heard no one. He pointed his gun toward the ceiling and quickly leaned into the open doorway, so only his left eye could see inside. After the quick glimpse, he leaned back from the doorway to hide himself again. He repeated the process a few more times in two and three second intervals, each time exposing his eyes to more of what was in the room.

The space was filled with computer server drives and D.C. power supplies installed into racks on the wall. Chilled, conditioned air flowed from vents above the electronic equipment to keep it cool. Miniature drawers of electrical components stood next to the racks and a work desk sat in the middle of the room. From the looks of things, Elixer had spared no expense on the electronic lab and had equipped the work desk with a variety of high tech test equipment. A ten-lead bench top multi-meter, an eight-channel digital oscilloscope, a tick tracer, and an ion scanner were positioned across the desk in front of a high-backed well-padded chair.

Charlie popped his head in and out of the door way one last time and then froze as his breathing stopped and a jolt of adrenalin shot through his body. He realized there was someone sitting in the chair. From his quick glance, he wasn’t sure which of the three guys it was but he was sure he saw somebody. He strained his ears and listened for any clues as to what the person might be doing. The only sound he heard was the dull whining of the server equipment cooling fans.

Realizing that he couldn’t remain hidden forever, Charlie left his hiding spot and took two quiet steps forward. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and around the edge of his eye as it continued to his cheek. Charlie let his eyes absorb everything in the room and gave his mind a chance to understand it. He realized that the person sitting in the chair was Ruben—he could see the top of his jet black hair above the head rest.

Charlie’s mouth was dry so he forced himself to swallow and then licked his lips. “Ruben? Whatcha workin’ on, pal?”

Ruben continued to sit motionless in the high backed chair. Charlie called Ruben’s name a second time and received the same result. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest but the rest of his body felt numb as he sucked oxygen in and out through his nostrils. Charlie craned his neck to try and see as much as he could and then quietly walked forward to get a closer look, his firearm lowering a bit.

Charlie used the left sleeve of his coveralls to wipe more sweat from his brow as he walked toward Ruben. He slid his finger a little closer to the trigger of his firearm and was ready to fire with his eyes glued to the top of Ruben’s head with each step that he took. A familiar smell touched the back of Charlie’s throat but he brushed away the distraction and continued forward.

When Charlie was close enough to see the side of Ruben’s body, he made a slight gasping noise through his open mouth, his eyes frozen in a stare. Charlie stood frozen in place with a heart rate above one hundred and twenty, realizing that Ruben’s face was an ashen gray and his eyes were open and lifeless. His head was slightly tilted back and his mouth hung open with thin streaks of saliva running from the corners of his lips and down the sides of his neck.

Please…not again.

Then he noticed the wire—a red wire with a metal test probe on the end of it. It was a test lead from the bench top multi-meter. The red wire had been wrapped around Ruben’s throat and the headrest of the padded chair. The wire had been pulled tight across his throat and tied in a knot to hold Ruben’s head in place. The muscles in his neck appeared to be frozen stiff and two thick veins bulged from beneath the skin on each side of his throat.

Charlie slowly moved closer, restarted his breathing, and noticed a bloody line under the red test lead where it had cut into the soft flesh of the dead man’s throat just above his Adam’s apple. The familiar fragrance he had detected was the pungent smell of death—the odor of a rotting corpse. What he saw was now sinking in: Ruben was dead.

Charlie lowered his firearm and exhaled as his eyes welled and his lower lip trembled. He blinked a few times, covered his mouth with his hand to halt the quivering, and exhaled to try and get himself under control. He knew he was most effective in a tense situation when he was able to think straight.

He’s working on the RAM board…trying to extract the video. Someone walks up behind him. He wraps a test lead wire around his throat and chokes the life out of him. A quick and clean kill. No smoldering skin or pummeled heads this time.

His eyes darted across the top of the work desk searching for the RAM circuit board, but it was nowhere to be found. Whoever killed Ruben had taken the RAM board with them.

“Shit!”

Where the hell is Jack? He was supposed to be helping Ruben. And Tom? Where the fuck is he? It’s gotta be one of them.

Charlie’s entire body jolted involuntarily from the sound of three large noises while his eyes darted back and forth across the room trying to identify them.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

The hot and tingling sensation of fresh adrenaline shot through Charlie’s body as he raised his gun toward the doorway he had just walked through. All of his vital signs increased as he prepared his muscles for exertion. He planted his feet in a traditional combat firing stance and readied himself to fire at whoever came through the door.

Charlie’s body spasmed again as the noises replayed themselves.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

His air passages dilated while he squeezed the handle of his gun tightly, his eyes darting right and left, ready to identify a target.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Charlie noticed the sounds had a metallic characteristic to them—sort of like somebody banging on the side of a metal garbage can. He forced his legs to move and slowly walked to the doorway, stopped for a brief second, and then popped his head out and looked to his right down the hallway before quickly pulling himself back.

Nothing.

He licked his lips and swallowed, beads of sweat rolling from his forehead while also steaming between his right palm and the handle of the gun. He repeated the process, this time looking to his left.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Charlie quickly pulled himself back from the door way while another dose of adrenaline was dispensed from his adrenal glands. He slightly gasped and used the fingers of his left hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

It came from the left…the left.

Charlie used the fresh epinephrine to redirect blood flow to his major muscle groups overcoming his rigid leg muscles and forcing them to move. He carefully inched himself into the hallway and headed to his left. He slid his finger to the side of the trigger in anticipation of a dangerous confrontation with a multi-murderer.

Hearing the metallic noises again, Charlie flinched. He licked his dry and crusty lips as he began to breathe through his mouth.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

He could tell that the sounds were coming from the closed door on the right side of the hallway. Somebody or something was pounding on it.

Charlie slowly inched his way to the door, held his breath, and tried to twist the smooth silver knob.

Locked. Shit.

He backed away from the door, stood silently for a second, and lowered his gun, trying to determine his next move. His eyes darted toward the door and he caught his breath as his ears detected a faint voice. Charlie readjusted the gun in his palm and raised it back to a firing position.

The weak voice came from the other side of the door. “Ruben?”

He stood silently with his ears on high alert, hoping to identify the speaker of the faint dialog.

BOOM!

“Ruben…let me the fuck outta here!”

BOOM!

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

BOOM!

Charlie’s body relaxed and he lowered his gun as he realized that the voice he heard belonged to Jack Ford.

If Jack’s behind the door and Ruben’s dead, Tom’s the one. Tom’s the killer.

The doorknob rattled violently and the voice from the other side called, “Will ya let me outta here, Ruben? You there? Get your head outta your ass and let me outta here!”

Charlie slid his gun into its holster. He moved close to the door and yelled, “Jack, it’s me…Charlie. I’m gonna look for something to open this door. Just hang on a second.”

Charlie remembered seeing a toolbox next to the work desk near Ruben’s body. He walked back to the electronics lab and saw the red toolbox to his right. He rifled through the drawers looking for something he could use to pry open the locked door. The top drawers only held small tools but in the bottom of the chest Charlie found a pry bar, with a black rubber handle. Realizing it was the perfect tool for the job, he ran back to the locked door.

“Jack, I’ll have you out in a few seconds. Just hang on.”

Charlie stuck the pry bar deep between the frame and the door, just above the knob latch and pushed it sideways. The gap between the door and frame widened but the door didn’t open. Charlie pushed the pry bar deeper into the crack and pushed again. This time the latch popped past the frame and the door inched open.

Charlie stepped back and dropped the pry bar. It made a muffled thud as it hit the rubberized flooring. He stood still for a second to catch his breath, his eyes locked on the door and tension returning to his muscles.

Still trying to catch his breath, Charlie leaned against the wall opposite the door and called out, “Jack, I popped the door. You can come out now.” The distant sound of the electronic equipment cooling fans was the only noise that was heard.

A few minutes ago he was pounding the crap out of the door. Now that it’s open he’s not coming out. What the…

Charlie slid his hand onto his holstered firearm. “Jack, buddy…it’s me, Charlie. Come on out.” There was still no reply.

Charlie slid his gun from its holster, held it steady with both hands, and walked toward the door. He peeked between the door and the frame and saw nothing but darkness. His level of adrenalin that had dropped over the last few minutes started to climb again, as he slowly began to pull the door open with his left hand while he was raising his gun with his right.

“Jack?”