Low on Amps

Faulkner stuck his arms out for Allison so she could cut his rope restraints. For his part, he would keep Allison in hers unless told to do otherwise. It was risky, but it needed to happen. They had to make the charade as believable as possible. When Faulkner finished switching over uniforms, he stashed his old one in an empty cell. By the time they would find it, hopefully they’d be long gone. It was a gamble, but they had been doing well so far. Don’t mistake being out of the cage for being free. Allison told herself. She stepped back over her hands, putting them behind her again.

“Alright. You ready?” She asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“We’ll see. No time to waste now. Remember, be rough and commanding. Act like a son of a bitch NCO. They’ll stay out of your way.”

“I gotcha.”

Faulkner grabbed a patrol cap out of the cargo pants from where the previous owner had stashed it and drew it down over his head, hoping that the shadows would go a long way to covering his face. He picked up the rifle and put the muzzle into Allison’s back.

“Marsch!” He ordered in German.

Allison stepped forward and let Faulkner lead her along. They entered into a hallway lined with lightbulbs. It seemed that they had intended on keeping the prisoners in as dark a room as possible, and then blind them when they were moved out of their cells. As they walked through the hallway, Allison took notice of the very strange architectural “upgrades.” Heavy modern steel doors. Wires and lights. Military equipment crates lined the area. Something big was going on here.

“You know you ain’t the first one they brought here.”

“Yeah you said that. What happened?” Allison asked at a hiss.

“There was another one of you wire jockeys they brought in the day they captured me. He was here, but they took him somewhere else. Down a different hallway. I never saw him again.”

“How encouraging.”

“Just saying that you’re probably doing the right thing here. Who knows what else they’re doing to people here.”

“Who is “they”?”

“These whackjobs. I get the feeling this is more than some “end of the world” doomsday cult project going on here.”

“Yeah…I get the same feeling.”

They quickly ended their conversation as they heard talking from where they were headed. Two more soldiers were walking through the corridor intersection up ahead. Showtime. Allison did her best to look nonplussed. She put a scowl on her face and let her anxiety be seen. For his part, Faulkner jabbed her with the barrel of the gun, causing her to stumble and fall. He picked her up by the hair and all but threw her ahead of him.

“Los gehts!”

She stood up and moved, silently taking note of how he handled her for any payback she might want to dish out later. The two troops ahead of them took notice and chuckled. They spoke German to her. Faulkner answered, gruff and impatient. They backed off and went down their original route. Faulkner hauled Allison off to the left and kept his hand on her shoulder. After a while, he took a look around with her when there was no one looking. There were several rooms that had been converted into more high-tech areas. An armory, a storage room, barracks of all kinds. But a large blast door at the end intrigued Allison. This wasn’t just them setting up shop. They were doing something else. She wanted to know what.

Allison motioned to the large door at the end of the big room they found themselves in. Faulkner didn’t say anything but looked that way. He read the signs.

“Research and development laboratories.”

“I don’t like this.” Allison said.

“I think you’d like it even less on the other side of the door. That’s where I saw the other guy get taken to.”

“Fuck.”

They kept moving. The activity was getting more substantial. Soon they were under scrutiny from at least one angle everywhere they went. Allison said nothing, but put up a little resistance here and there to let Faulkner stay authentic and in character. They moved up towards a large opening. That’s when one of the men stepped in front of the pair. He talked. Faulkner answered. There was a minor argument, and then she felt Faulkner let go of her shoulder. Her blood suddenly ran cold. The new man grabbed her and pulled her down towards a hallway. She looked behind her and saw Faulkner following but remaining a healthy distance away.

Allison looked ahead and saw she was being led to a room. The door swung in, and she was unceremoniously tossed inside. She tripped and landed on her shoulder. When she looked up, she saw a table. She was picked up and immediately thrown onto it. Her heart rate spiked. The man from before loomed over her as a few men came around and held her feet and shoulders down.

“Well well well. How nice to see you again.”

Allison stared at him and said nothing.

“That “tough girl” act won’t get you very far here. Now, I’ll keep this brief. You answer some questions, and we won’t have to get into the nasty business. Sound fair?”

She didn’t answer.

“Tsk tsk. We’ll have to do it the hard way it seems.”

“Fuck you.”

A towel went over her head. It was drawn back down onto the table as the cloth became tight over her face. Next came water. It was an age-old tactic. Dunking someone’s head into a bathtub was one way, but this was more professional. More sinister. She strained against the men holding her down. She tried to breathe but water was the only thing that came through her nose and mouth. She coughed and sputtered and tried to shout, but the towel muffled her voice. She’d been through this before, but she still hated it. She felt like she was drowning. Her body jerked and spasmed. After what seemed like an hour, the towel came off. She sucked in air. They splashed her with more water which sent her into another coughing fit until she puked up the water.

“Let’s try again. We know who you are. Who you work for.”

“Bullshit!” she shouted.

“Your name is Allison. You’re with NATO’s AEGIS task force. And you are newly transferred into the French countryside. You came from the 28th Copperheads and are now with the Bushmasters. Is that correct?”

She stared at him, wondering how he was able to list off this information like nothing. Then she remembered he was talking to a mole in the NATO base in their prior meeting.

“You’re a newer generation of the demi-machina, are you not?”

She stared at him, still.

“These are always such troublesome subjects, don’t you agree?” He said, looking to the man holding her feet down. “Their military puts them through such…conditioning, in the hopes that it will keep them alive until the time when their rescue comes. But the thing is…there is no hope for you, Allison. No rescue is coming. No one knows you’re even still alive. And you know how I know? Because we would’ve picked up any radio transmission you sent. And yet, you sent none. Oh, we waited for a long time, but instead, you tried to stay hidden. That was, until you met our watchman.”

Allison arched her eyebrow.

“Oh yes, you see? The infected are such beautiful creatures. Perhaps they are a forced evolutionary event, no? And now…humanity must make its way off the worldly stage for the new fittest species. Ah, but it seems this is a philosophy that is hard to comprehend!” The man sat on the table next to her and stared into her eyes. Those cold, blue eyes. “Humanity is resilient, I will give them that. As it is the very nature of species to do battle and to strive to survive in the face of adversity. But humanity has intelligence. A self-awareness, unlike any other species. The ability of introspection. We can look at ourselves from the outside in and see things no other animal can. I’ve done it. Many here have done so themselves.”

“Humanity has plagued this Earth for far too long. Grown too fat. Too lazy. It has stamped out other species from existence in its vain pursuit for personal glory. Look and behold, monuments to mankind’s gluttony now lay barren across this whole country. And soon, the world will go with it.” The man smiled. Allison felt a deeply rooted fear take hold when she saw his expression. “And you will help us, whether you like it or not. You demi-machina, hilariously created as a new breed of humans for combat, are so much like the infected that lurk among the cities. Yet, you are so artificial, whereas they are so much more natural. So what to do about it? Well, that’s simple, really. We will help further the infected evolutionary process until it outpaces humanity’s ability to do the same. And when we do, they will inherit the Earth.”

“You’re insane.”

“She speaks!” The man laughed, and then backhanded Allison across the face. “And her first words show she has learned NOTHING! That’s another thing about you demi-machina. The military has bred you to be stubborn to the point of stupidity. No matter. Your associate made a fine test subject. And soon, so will you. So you may answer my questions, or we can take you right to the laboratory. It is your choice.”

Allison couldn’t move. She could only breathe and blink. The prospect of becoming a test subject was not at all appealing to her. But she didn’t want to betray her team. Her organization. She swallowed hard. Her mind, no matter what, was made up.

“Go to hell.”

“As you wish.” He said.

The man waved his hand and the water-boarding started all over again. She struggled against the restraints. Her world went black again. She breathed in water and choked. Her whole existence was reduced to retching on a wooden table while trying to breathe. It went like that for a good long while before they pulled her off it and dumped her onto the floor. She vomited up the water again. The two men came around either side of her and hooked their arms under hers, hoisting her up. The man opened the door and stepped through, disappearing into the hallway. The men hauled her up and threw her back onto the table, ready to start again. Someone else stepped inside the room. There was a muffled clap and a thump. Then another clap followed by a thump. She no longer felt them holding her down and let her head loll off to one side.

Another soldier approached the side of the table.

“Geez, they really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

She opened her eyes and looked up.

“Faulkner?”

“Yep.” The man said, taking a knife out and cutting her restraints.

“You fucking…asshole. You left me.”

“I didn’t leave you. I let you keep up the charade. Look, we don’t have much time. You gotta get yourself together and fast.”

“You get my gear?”

“What I could find. You got some nice toys. But now it’s time to move.”

“That man…he talked about…making me a ‘test subject’!”

“Yeah that explains a lot. Look, get the uniform on. I got your pistol. We need to go before they figure out what’s going on.”

Allison looked at him.

“What?”

“I need some water.”

“After that?”

“Just gimme the fucking canteen, you shit. I’m not in the mood.”

He handed over the one on his belt and let her drink and wash her mouth out. She handed it back and thanked him. Then she got to work getting the uniforms off one of the dead men. The good thing about the NI suits were that they were a very tight layer, meaning she was able to slip on clothes easily over top of it. She put the flecktarn camo uniform and rig on and looked to Faulkner as he threw her bag to her before going to shove the bodies into the corners. She dug around inside and found her watch cap and a neck gaiter. Perfect for cold weather and for disguises. She put them on quickly and grabbed up one of the rifles off the men. It was mainly plastic with a large optic at the back. She remembered it from her familiarization courses.

“Ready?” Faulkner asked.

“Here goes…well, everything.” She replied.

And it was everything. This was a long shot, but she wasn’t about to back down now. She’d seen too much to die now.