Chapter 4

 

Casey, Jack, and Thorn had made it to the room holding the weapon, but when they got there, they spotted ten rebels guarding the door. Presumably, Commander Tio had put two and two together. When one of his ships mysteriously appeared inside the landing dock with knocked-out guards inside, he knew something was up, so he did what anyone in his position would do: called in the reinforcements.

“There’re ten of them. How are we supposed to get past that?” Casey asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Thorn. “Follow me to the next room.”

Casey exchanged a look with Jack. When he shrugged, she followed Thorn into some type of storage room, then stopped to have a look around. All she could see before the door clicked shut behind her were floor-to-ceiling metal shelves lining the wall. The room was quickly bathed in darkness again, and she could barely make out Thorn’s silhouette. “What now?” she asked, as sudden light flooded her vision.

“First, a little bit of light might help.” Thorn’s fingers moved away from a silver control panel. “We’re crawling through the ducts.” Setting the pace, Thorn started climbing up the large shelves, holding on to the rods that held them together. On the smooth surface, someone had arranged large cylinders in neat piles, with tiny stickers labeling them.

“You know air vents are for air, right?” Casey muttered. “And aren’t they designed like a labyrinth?” She wasn’t exactly into climbing or crawling, particularly not in an area where she might never find her way out.

Jack nudged her with a chuckle. “Hope you’re not claustrophobic.”

She smiled, for he knew she wasn’t.

Casey bit her lip. She might not have ever considered squeezing through some narrow space in the ceiling, but she was totally up for a little James Bond action, particularly if it’d get them past the guards outside the door.

“I’d take this over heights any day,” said Jack, “as long as we don’t end up in the boiler room.”

Giving his hand a last squeeze, she stepped on one of the rickety bottom shelves and pulled herself up to the next horizontal surface. She placed a foot on the hard surface and held on to the metal rod, just as she’d watched Thorn do. After testing the shelf with her leg, she realized it was strong enough to support her weight, so she moved up to the next level and used the shelf as a ladder to help her reach the top. Once she was up, she glanced down.

With some kind of laser beam pen, Thorn silently cut through the grate that was covering the vent. Pressing a palm against the panel, he lifted it up and placed it on the shelf beneath him with a barely audible thud, then squeezed through the narrow opening.

The hole looked dark and cold. Even though she had never been scared of tiny spaces, she couldn’t help but wonder if the thing could hold her weight.

“Are you coming?” Thorn whispered.

Nodding, she followed, wiggling through the square opening. Suddenly, the stench of musk and urine assaulted her nostrils. She wrote it off, deciding she could handle a few bad smells when they were so close to accomplishing their mission. The cramped space felt slippery. In the dim light, she noticed some kind of grime plastered along every surface, as if it had been untouched for millions of years. As she wiped the dust and other greasy muck from her gloved hands, she frowned. “Someone forgot to clean in here,” she muttered. As if that wasn’t bad enough, a current of cool air blew across her face, as if she were in the middle of a dust storm. She flipped her visor shut and continued forward, crawling on her hands and knees through the narrow aluminum airshaft. As she moved away from her point of entry, everything grew dark.

“I can’t see a thing,” Jack said from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Then switch on your flashlight, but keep quiet! Remember, there are aliens beneath us.”

“Can’t reach it. It’s in my backpack. Hey, you used yours back in that dark kitchen. Did you put it away?”

“Got it right here.” She dug her hand deep into her pocket and pulled out her flashlight, then flicked it on. In that instant, a piercing pain radiated across her finger, as if she’d been bitten or stung by something. When she swung the beam of light around, it landed on a pair of red, oversized, glowing eyes and a long, pointed snout. A new rat species? Some kind of alien zombie psycho-gerbil? Whatever it was, she had no doubt that those needle-sharp teeth could chew through glass, cinderblock, wire, aluminum, lead…and definitely skin. It would be yet another new installment in her never-ending class of Horror 101. After all, no horror film would be complete without rats, whether Indy’s dad liked it or not.

She heard Jack muttering something about catching rabies right before another sharp pain sliced her ankle, then her leg. A long tail skittered past her face, and something zipped across her back, making her gasp. Loud squeaks echoed all around her. “It’s rats. They’re biting us!” Shivers flooded through her body. The critters were so lucky she didn’t have a big old frying pan or some chunky-style peanut butter and The Rat Zapper 2000.

A rodent scurried across her neck, and she swiped at it, hitting her elbow in the small, confined space. She began to worry that one might weasel its way inside her pant leg or shirt, and a chill ran down her spine.

“Head back. Head back now!” Thorn ordered.

“What? We can’t turn around. There isn’t enough space.” Jack’s voice sounded frantic, as though the mere thought of being stuck in that confined space might cause him to have a panic attack of epic proportions. Casey understood because she had no doubt she was near one herself.

“These are miters,” Thorn said. “Trust me, with the huge swarm of them up ahead, there’s no way we’ll make it through. If any of us get bitten more than ten times, we will go into anaphylactic shock.”

“Did you say ten?” Casey groaned. “I think I’ve reached nine already.” Casey peeked over Thorn and saw hundreds of red, glowing eyes. Wait…aren’t rat infestations reserved for New York City sewers? I never saw any epic-sized rodent outbreaks on Ripley’s ship! She fought the strong urge to scream, but she wasn’t keen on meeting the bloodthirsty King of the Rats. One of the rodents jumped at her face, bearing its long, yellow, razor-sharp teeth. Her stomach lurched as she pounded the rat-hybrid with her flashlight. Racing backward, she stumbled over Jack’s hands and pushed him back, unwilling to slow down. From the corner of her eye, she could have sworn the rat-like thing was giving chase, probably looking forward to a change in its usual diet. “Hurry up, Jack,” she hissed.

“I’m trying.” His answer came through ragged breaths.

She threw a glance over her shoulder; the opening in the ceiling came back into view. Jack slid out first, and Casey followed. She leapt out of the air vent onto the shelf with a thud, praying no one heard her somewhat loud crash landing. She was more than glad to be out of the rat hole either way.

With another shudder, she scrambled down, then tore off her glove and peered at her finger. The puncture looked red and swollen, quite like a spider bite. One thing was for sure: She had a serious case of the heebie-jeebies, even if that was typically reserved for bug-phobias. “The thing’s lucky I didn’t go all Rambo on it, but banging around in the vents would have drawn attention. And that’s the last thing we need right now.”

“I got bitten too,” said Jack. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and looked up at him. “Geesh. Haven’t these goons ever heard of Die Hard or Mission Impossible? Don’t they know that vent shafts are supposed to be readily available for heroes to escape? I guess they don’t think we’re as worthy as Bruce Willis or Tom Cruise.”

“Not this time,” said Jack, “but we’ll figure something else out.”

She snorted and rubbed her leg, her gaze fixed on the swelling wound, which was now the size of a walnut. “Something else? Like what? You know as well as I do that that was our best chance of getting past those guards.”

“I can take a few bites. I’ll just crawl through them,” Jack said, feigning some kind of heroic invincibility.

“Don’t you dare!” said Casey. “I swear those things came straight from the pit of hell, and I’m not gonna stand by and watch you die of rat pox or some rat-bite fever.” She swallowed and glanced up at Thorn, who made his way down the shelves. “We probably already caught it, didn’t we?”

“Like I said before, those aren’t rats. We call them miters. You’re lucky. Their DNA is quite different, and you haven’t sustained too many bites yet. You should be just fine.” Thorn jumped down and clapped Jack’s shoulder. “You’re very brave to offer to go back, but you’d be dead before you hit the room. Your body can’t handle any more venom.” He looked away, as if pondering another solution.

“That’s good to know,” Casey said. “So, let’s consider our options. We can die from spaced-out rat bites, being shot, or experimentation. Hmm. It’s so hard to choose.” Their one and only way of cleverly sneaking past the guards had been shot down, and Casey shook her head in defeat. There has to be a way past those vermin, and if there is a way, I wish someone would share that little tidbit of info with us.

“I’ve got another idea,” said Thorn.

“Plan B?” Casey asked.

“Exactly. Follow me.” Without elucidating further, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Thorn glanced around the pillar. “We’re outnumbered, but we can outsmart them.” He placed his backpack gently on the floor and started to rummage through it, his fingers barely making any noise as he pulled out a black, rectangular device about the size of a Nintendo DS.

Casey recognized it immediately; it was the same device Mike had pulled out of his backpack in Agartha.

“This is a new navigation tool similar to a GPS. I’m positive they’ve never seen one of these before.” He turned the black dial a few times as he whispered, “I’m setting the coordinates for the room that holds the weapon. The closer we get, the louder and faster it beeps. We’ll pretend there’s a radiation leak of cosmic proportions.”

A nuclear nightmare? Giant insects or rodents? She’d certainly watched her fair share of catastrophe movies on Saturday nights. Casey realized her hands were shaking, and she took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. She hoped this crazy plan would work. After all, Thorn had to be the best, or else General Ashtar wouldn’t have trusted him. “Are you sure they won’t recognize you?”

“For starters, they think I’m dead. Plus, there are many new recruits. I’ll disguise my voice to be on the safe side.”

Jack leaned in. “What if they don’t buy our story?”

“I’ve been doing this for hundreds of years,” said Thorn. “I can be quite convincing. Just try to blend in, act the part, and follow my lead. Come on.”

Will the Greys really buy this B-movie plotline? Casey shook her head, reminding herself that Thorn had successfully accomplished this a million times on missions. His ruses had worked before against countless enemies. Besides, it wasn’t like she had a better plan up her sleeve. All she could do was hope his plan was better than nothing. As long as no one saw through it, they’d be okay. Otherwise, they were busted, big time. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the most important walk-on role of her life.