He was about to crawl away and head back to the bookstore, but something inside him convinced him to wait another moment. The guards burst out in laughter, talking about something he couldn’t make out. Then the alarms went off.
47CLARA
Climbing the tree in leggings was much easier than the frilly skirt she had climbed in earlier. She checked the watch she had stolen from the kitchen, and estimated the guard change to occur within an hour. Then it would be a matter of retrieving the vials, waiting til the next guard change, and getting the hell out.
She flexed her fingers, preparing to grasp her daggers. This was another mission, and she had her orders. She would do whatever it took, and kill every person that stood in her way.
Her heart pounded as her thoughts rushed through her mind, but she kept her breaths even and stayed as calm as she could. A small amount of doubt remained in the back of her mind. This wasn’t the smartest move. She wasn’t too far in. She could go back, and her and Carver could continue their plan and accomplish what they needed to. Although, their current plan had Carver executing everything and her sitting on the outside because he didn’t believe she should do her job.
With that in mind, she stayed in the tree and continued watching, waiting for the guard change. There was another branch a couple feet below her, and she decided she could drop to that one and then drop to the ground without injury. It was the best she could do with what she had.
A few minutes after midnight, the guards shuffled away. They weren’t as precise on timing as she hoped they would be. She’d have to work with whatever she was given, regardless of how much their inconsistency increased the chances of her being caught.
As soon as they were out of ear shot, she dropped to the branch below, barely catching herself before swinging to the ground. She rolled when she landed, using her full body to absorb the impact and then ran to the door way. She swiped the key card and when it lit up with green, she copied the motions she had seen the soldier do. Denied. She swiped again, and again entered the code. It beeped at her this time, “Denied. One attempt remaining.”
“Shit,” she whispered. She wracked her brain, but the only thing she could think was one of the numbers had been doubled. She zoned in, surveying the damage on the keys. Was one slightly more worn than the others? Would that provide the additional movement? The two had more indention, but she remembered the guard’s hand starting there and not coming back. She’d have to go with it.
“Access granted.” Flashed across the screen.
The door began to open, just as she heard the footsteps of returning guards.
She slipped in, and hid in the first alcove she could find, hoping they wouldn’t come inside. She didn’t want to start killing people already. But she would.
The door closed, and she stayed a few minutes before continuing into the lab. No one followed her, and as late as it was, there were very few sounds present. The hum of machines, the roar of air coming on and shutting off to maintain the necessary temperature.
All of what she assumed were normal sounds, but her heart raced at every one. She stayed close to the wall as she walkeddown the hallway. Presumably, the vials would be stored in the deepest part of the lab. Closed white doors marked the hallway on both sides. Most of them were dark underneath, but a couple had lights shining through and she was cautious as she passed those.
It occurred to her, that if she had incurred a white lab coat, she would have a believable cover. As it was, her fingers tightened around the knives she held, and she knew that would be the only way she could protect herself. She was glad she hadn’t brought the gun. It would have been too loud, and the ricochet against the lab walls was far too much of a liability.
One of the doors on the left was open, and since she had three hours before the guards would change, curiosity prevailed and she slipped inside. The room was filled with machines, and wires, and though no one was inside, a chill ran down her spine because something about it felt very…alive.
She reached the first container and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a gasp. A baby boy wriggled inside the container. Surrounded by fluid, he was kept alive through the tubes running in and out. But it wasn’t just a baby. Even as small as he was she could see fur growing on the tops of his feet and hands. The legs were elongating and bent in a position that was markedly animalistic; the fingers curved more than they should in preparation for claws.
Her stomach churned and she swallowed hard to avoid gagging as she tasted bile at the back of her throat. Every container around the room held much of the same. Genetically modified. Babies. Children. One of the larger containers held an adult, kept in stasis as the scientists performed the modifications—the experiments. It was wrong. It was so wrong. And for the moment, there was nothing she could do about it.
She would come back. She would take this information to Command, and eventually, eventually they could burn Noxvalisto the ground. They could destroy the labs. They could stop evil people from playing gods.
An extra lab coat hung on the wall, and she gratefully lifted it off the hook. She’d at least be less conspicuous now. It was too big for her, the sleeves covering her hands entirely. At least it made hiding her knives easier. Definitely would’ve fit Carver better.
The thought popped in unwarranted and unwelcome, but it was there nonetheless, there with the quiet piece of chaos she pressed down that reminded her this was wrong. She should have waited for him. Orders were orders, and she had defied hers. Something she had never done before. An offense. But an offense she could remedy as long as she was successful. So she had to be successful.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway, and she pressed herself against the wall next to the door and waited. Either the person would pass by and she would continue on, or they would enter this room and she would slit their throat.
Her hands tightened around her knives and she breathed lightly. In and out as the footsteps grew closer. It was too late to shove the sleeves up, and she hoped they wouldn’t get in her way when it was time to move. The man, heavy footsteps and long gait, paused at the door, and she wondered if he found it curious the door had been cracked open. She certainly wondered when she found it cracked.
His hesitation didn’t last long, before he pushed the door open and stepped inside. His pace remained slow, and with his head down he didn’t even notice her standing there. She waited until he closed the door behind him before she moved. He wasn’t much taller than her, and in one swift motion she slit his throat with one hand, bracing his body with the other so he slid down against her silently.
The blood gurgled for a moment, but it was barely audible in the room over the hum of machines. No one else would have heard it.
She laid him to the ground, stepping back to examine the room and her work one more time. She cursed at the blood on her sleeve, but she had done the best she could. She rolled it up, and by the third layer she managed to cuff it so the blood was barely visible. She matched the cuff on the other side.
Clara inhaled deeply, forcing herself to take in the details of the scenario rather than the dead body in front of her. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She had learned how to push the bodies aside and dissociate entirely from the deaths she caused. It was what made her the best.
He wasn’t young, but he wasn’t old either. His facial hair was unkempt, and the only article of clothing that looked professional was his lab coat. It opened to stained pants, and an even more stained t-shirt. The man’s key card was clipped to his coat. She noticed this detail long before it clicked into place that she would need the key card to access the weapons lab. Of course she would. She had lucked out with this door being open; she highly doubted the next one would provide her the same favor.
She clipped the key card onto her own lab coat, straightening the pieces of her outfit until she could convince herself that she belonged in the labs. If she didn’t falter, maybe if she ran into someone else they would believe her disguise. She only needed them to believe long enough for her to end them.
The closer she moved toward the center of the lab, the more noise there was. The air was on all of the time, machines rumbled and beeped, others hummed constantly. She stuck to the shadows, prepared for whatever would come.
