Getting out set off an alarm, because the door was held open for too long. It wanted to shut it and when it could not, it began to screech. A face appeared in one of the windows on the other side of the room. He fidgeted with the door handle and something else. Another alarm sounded.
“Wrong code,” Parsons said to me when I looked at her about the second alarm. I nodded and pushed the group forward a little faster. “I changed them when all hell broke loose.”
“Can you change the master code?” I asked.
“No, only someone on the outside in a watch station can do it. I’m not even sure which watch station.”
“Can they use the master codes?” I asked.
“It doesn’t work like that. The master codes have to be entered from the inside into the lock itself. Once you unlock one floor, you unlock the other doors connected to that circuit, so the other five floors would have that door opened. The master code is meant to be used in case of fire or a natural disaster. We believe the Fortress could withstand an EF-5 tornado, but we have never had to test the theory. If we were in here and there was such a thing coming our way, we would use the master codes to get the inmates to the central area. The cafeteria has two floors below it. They can’t be accessed from anywhere but the cafeteria, but they do contain cells we can use in the event of such an emergency. It would suck, but it could be done.” She looked down the hall, back into the tower area. “Of course, the towers all have basements, but the cells haven’t been finished in them yet.”
“Really? This place is still a work in progress?” I asked.
“Yes,” Eric answered for Parsons. “The courtyard areas will be eventually filled in, basements will run the entire length of the main corridors and cell blocks. It was slapped together in a hurry and as they find need to make revisions, revisions are made. It was an experiment and has worked well enough, but when housing some of the smartest criminals in the world who have a taste for blood, sometimes they find flaws in the system.” Parsons nodded. The door on the opposite wall opened.
I stood for a moment, watching a man run into the room. He had blood on his shirt. I was almost positive it wasn’t his. I recognized him. Last time I’d seen him; he had been having a hog roast for a neighborhood block party. Sadly, the hog had actually been a young woman that had gone missing while hitchhiking a few days earlier.
Parsons aimed and fired. He crumpled up, folding like a piece of paper onto himself.
“You get to claim that one,” I told her.
“Of course,” she answered.
“Good riddance.” Eric looked at him. “I hate cannibals.”
“There are worse things in the world,” I told him.
“Yeah, cop killers,” Eric looked very grim as he said the words. I wondered where his mind had just gone. Or maybe it was his memory. I didn’t know. There was a sound above me. It wasn’t an alarm exactly, just three steady beeps. I looked at the ceiling, expecting to see something.
“Someone just entered the master code to the security doors on the tower,” Parsons told me.
“Well, that is just peachy.” I glared at the room, waiting for it to fill up. It didn’t. In fact, despite the doors opening, no one came through. “Walk faster!” I shouted. That feeling in my gut grew stronger. A rear ambush didn’t seem to be the plan, which left a trap in front of us. We were going to walk right into it. The only question was where it would be. If they could get through the security doors in front of us, they could pin us down between two of them. That would be bad. They couldn’t wait for us to get all the way to the cafeteria, where we’d have backup. We really needed the tower to stay killer free. They couldn’t pin us down without someone behind us.
The walls shook. Heat washed over me a moment after the sound. It bathed my face. Not enough to sear my flesh or even burn my hair but warm enough for me to know that they had just set off another bomb. Part of the floors in the upper part of the tower collapsed. Eric grabbed my arm. We both stayed on our feet despite the rumbling in the ground. Setting off a bomb was an effective way to block a retreat. I wished I had thought of it earlier. I might have looked for one. Considering where the damage was done, it had to be put inside the tower. I took a deep breath and helped Parsons to her feet. Isabella refused Eric’s outstretched hand. He hooked a finger over his shoulder.
Several of the ladies had gone down, tripping over their own feet and the moving floor. We were packed together tightly enough that they were having trouble finding their footing to stand back up.
“I hate bombers more than cannibals,” I told Eric. He gave me a small smile.
I also hated not having a good line of communication with Gabriel and Malachi. I hated moving like a herd of cattle down a corridor that may or may not be blown up. I hated traps. I hated plotting. I hated everything about the day. It was definitely going in the books as one of the worst days ever experienced by me. Which meant I was incredibly pissed off when Alejandro Gui stumbled through the wreckage of the door and into the corridor.
“Thought you killed him?” I asked Eric.
“I thought I did too,” Eric answered. “Do you want me to do it now?”
“No,” I sighed. He looked rough. Eric might not have killed him, but he had come damn close. Dried blood coated his uniform shirt. It had dribbled down to stain his pants too. I sighed again. I was not supposed to kill anyone. I was not supposed to condone others killing people. However, I really hated Alejandro. I had hated him almost from the moment I had met him. Time had not lessened that hatred. If anything, time had only helped to feed my hatred of him.
“You can’t kill him,” Eric said to me.
“I do not intend to kill him,” I assured my brother, snatching my baton from him. I walked towards the man. He was a shell of himself. I could not have killed him even if I had not been told not to do it. He was almost pitiful. The only thing driving him forward was his own hatred for me. For a moment, I could see a reflection of myself in him. If I killed him now, it would be simply because I hated him. If I gave into such things, I would eventually find myself playing cards with Isabella Stewart and wearing a yellow uniform with Malachi being my only visitor. My mother would try to visit, but I would be like Eric and not want her to see me in such a condition. Her disappointment would be too much to bear. I drew back and whacked him on his knee. He fell to the ground, reaching for me. I hit his arm, breaking it. He curled up on himself, preparing for more blows.
I stopped. We had another one that would need to be carried back now. Again, we could not leave him for the scavengers. Trophies should be earned, not scavenged off other people’s work. I gave Eric a look. His shoulders slumped and he moved forward. We both grabbed Alejandro. I made sure to grab his broken arm. He didn’t cry or protest as we dragged him across the floor. Eric got the attention of some of the women at the back. They grabbed hold of him.
“If you keep doing that, we are never going to make it out of this corridor. We can’t collect every serial killer you beat up,” Parsons told me.
“Well then, you should have shot him in the head,” I told her. She sighed. “Exactly,” I told her.
“He doesn’t look very dangerous at the moment,” she finally answered.
“He should be dead,” Eric told her. “I’m not sure why he isn’t.” I did. Hatred was a strong emotion in psychopaths. After a few more moments, I saw Alejandro’s feet disappear. We were moving again. It was almost amazing. The group slowed down and I thought about throwing a fit, but remembered there were active security doors ahead. I wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing.
“Do you know the master code?” I asked Parsons.
“No.”
“Well, damn. Who does?” I asked, hoping to get the stupid doors out of the way. We were trying to get out, not keep people in. Knowing the codes would help.
“I don’t know,” Parsons answered.
“You don’t know?” I looked at her a little confused.
“It changes every month. We open our locker and find the code. The next month, the code goes blank and a new person gets it. However, we can be fired for admitting we know the master code. If someone wanted to cause this, they could just take the code keeper hostage and force them to open it.”
“Really?” I looked at Eric. “So, somehow, the code keepers are working together. How long do you think that took to set up?”
“Not long with enough money,” Eric answered. “Money and influence grease a lot of wheels.”
“These are US Marshals,” I told him.
“US Marshals can be bought; they just have steep prices.” Eric looked up the hallway, across the herd. I could almost see him willing them forward. I considered that pearl of wisdom and wondered what my price was. I was willing to bet it wasn’t monetary.