The Last Orphans (20 page)

“Turn of
f your lights for a second,” Shane whispered.

The others did as he told the
m. The ominous buzzing sound grew louder. It reminded Shane of a remote control car, but a chill ran across his body as he imagined what kind of deadly military toy might be approaching, prickling with missiles and machine guns and having no conscience to make it hesitate from using them. Staring into the dark tunnel ahead, Shane saw a dim, red light.

“I see it,”
Tracy said, clicking her flashlight back on.

“Tu
rn it off,” Steve hissed.

“Why?”
Tracy asked. “It’s probably some sort of automated robot that uses infrared cameras to see. We’re only blinding ourselves by keeping the lights off. I’m betting it’s connected to these overhead cameras too. Probably been watching us the entire time.”

“What should we do?” Shane asked
, resisting the urge to turn and run the other way.

“F
ight,” Kelly answered, dropping to her knee and aiming her gun down the tunnel. Even while afraid they all might die, Shane couldn’t help but grin at how tough Kelly had gotten.

“
Hold on,” Tracy said, putting her hand on the barrel of Kelly’s gun and pushing it down. “Maybe we can fake it out.”

“How’s that?” St
eve asked, his wide eyes glued on the darkness ahead.

“
People must come through this tunnel all the time,” Tracy replied. “If it thinks we belong here, maybe it’ll leave us alone.”

“Sounds like a long shot,” Shane said. “
It’s got to have some pretty advanced ways of identifying people. Let’s be ready for a fight if it decides to attack.”

“You guys lay low behind me, so it only has one
target,” Tracy said, seeming confident in her plan. “I’ll try to trick it. If I fail, be ready to blast it into scrap metal.”

Although i
mpressed by Tracy’s bravery, Shane hesitated, worried about losing another friend.

“You have to trust me,” Tracy said, her voice softer as if she sensed his concern.
“I got this.” Her eyes were persuasive, but also filled with confidence.

There was no time to argue, he clapped his hand on her arm and squeezed.

“Just be careful.”

She
nodded, returning her attention to the tunnel. He joined Kelly fifteen feet behind. Steve followed him, and they kneeled down on either side of the shotgun-wielding cheerleader, raising their guns and taking aim past Tracy.

The buzzing grew
louder until a three-foot-tall square robot resembling the Mars Rover appeared in the beam of Tracy’s flashlight. It stopped, and a metal neck unfolded, raising what looked like six camera lenses of various sizes attached to a volleyball-size, stainless-steel orb. The metallic, spider-eyed head of the robot stopped about five feet off the ground and seemed to study Tracy.

“Good evening
.” A friendly voice came from the head, blue LEDs flashing under the eyes as it spoke. “Please identify yourself.”

“Dr. Sara Gunder
son, leading a repair crew,” Tracy said. Her voice was confident and so convincing that Shane was certain the robot would believe her. “Move aside and let us pass.”

“Ple
ase wait,” the feminine voice said. “Activating voice recognition sequence.” After a pause, the robot continued, “Please count to ten slowly.”

Tracy
did as the robot asked, her confident tone not wavering for an instant. When she finished, the robot stared at her motionlessly for a few seconds. Shane held his breath, optimistic that the drone would let them pass.

T
he robot’s neck collapsed, its head lowering back down to its square body.

“Voice recognition has failed,” the kind voice sa
id. “Please return to the capitol building for confirmation of identity.”

“We can’t do that,”
Tracy said. “Clearly, you are malfunctioning. We have to make emergency repairs.”

“I’m sorry,” the voice replied.
“I cannot let you pass. Please return to the capitol building for confirmation of identity. If you do not comply in five seconds, I am authorized to use deadly force.” Two gun barrels rose up on either side of the metal cube. “Five, four, three—

“Kill it!”
Tracy yelled, flinging herself to the sidewall of the tunnel. 

The robot pivoted to follow her, its guns blaz
ing. Shane pulled the trigger, his gun set to fully automatic. Bullets and fire puked out of the barrel and into the robot, the thunder of gunfire reverberating in the tunnel. Steve and Kelly shot the drone as well, and the combined force of their guns pushed the drone back. Within moments, they depleted their ammo, leaving the drone flipped up on its side, filled with holes and oozing red and green fluids.

Tracy
dropped to the smooth, concrete floor, holding her right thigh and groaning. Shane rushed to her side, noticing the blood staining her pants.

“Okay, stupid plan,” she said, grimacing.
She put her hands on her thigh above the bullet hole in her pants. “That hurts like a son of a bitch.”

Red lights began flashing overhead and a female voice, similar to the robot’s but louder, repeated, “Intruder alert, intruder alert.
All security personnel report to the capitol building access tunnel.”

“Let me see it,” he
said, pulling her hands away.

“It’s alright,”
Tracy replied through clenched teeth. “I think it just grazed me.”

She pushed Shane away and looked down at her leg.
Tracy grabbed the sides of her pant leg and tore her jeans away from her wound. A small hole with black, cauterized edges pierced the outside edge of her thigh, blood seeping out of it.

“Lucky me,”
Tracy said, like she’d been through this a thousand times. “Is there a hole on the back side of my leg?”

She leaned over so Shane could see th
e other side of her thigh. Where the bullet exited the wound was bigger, but the bleeding didn’t look too bad.

“Yeah, there’s a hole,” Shane replied
, worried.

“
Good, it means the bullet isn’t still in me. Get some alcohol out of my pack and pour it over the wounds, then wrap my leg in gauze,” Tracy ordered, cringing from pain.

“Keep your guns pointed down the tunnel,” Shane said to Kelly and Steve, searching through
Tracy’s pack for medical supplies. “In case more robots come after us.”

Tracy winced when he poured the alcohol on her leg, but she held it together. Shane finished wrapping her leg as fast as he could, and Tracy stood, using her gun as a crutch.

“I
ain’t never met anybody as tough as you,” Steve said to Tracy, his eyes gleaming with amazement.

“Enough with the ass kissing,” she replied, sounding annoyed. “We have to keep moving.”

“What do you think will happen now?” Shane asked, pointing at the flashing lights overhead.

“How should I know?”
Tracy replied. “Maybe an army of those robots will come after us. You want to wait around and find out?”

Kelly shrieked behind them. Sh
ane turned and saw four rats jump on her and bite at her calves. He swatted them off, and Steve punted them up the tunnel.

“Come on,”
Tracy shouted over the sound of the intruder alarm.

Grabbing Kelly’s arm, Shane ran next to
her down the tunnel. Tracy limped along with surprising speed considering her fresh injury. Rats scurried out of the darkness, and Shane and Steve kicked them away from Kelly, who shrieked every time she saw one.

“It’s getting worse,” Steve said. “We won’t be able to keep them off
her for much longer.”

“Shut up and keep running,” Shane replied. He refused to lose Kelly like he lost his aunt.

They came to a widened area of the tunnel that had fifty-gallon drums lining one side. Tracy stopped and flipped one over. Spiders rushed out of the darkness behind them, climbed up Kelly’s pant leg, and she screamed. Shane squatted down and helped her smack them away.

Tracy stepped back and fired five shots into the top of the barrel, punching holes in the metal. Then she kicked the lid off
with her good leg.

“Put her inside,”
Tracy yelled.

“What?” Shane looked
at her like she had gone mad.

“Do it
.” Tracy grabbed Kelly’s arm and pulled her toward the barrel. “Get in, you’ll be safe here.”

Realizing what
Tracy had in mind, Shane smacked the rest of the spiders clear and picked Kelly up.

“What are you doing?” Kelly started kicking him. “I’m not going in there.”

“If you’re in the barrel, the rats and bugs won’t be able to get to you,” Shane explained quickly. “You have to listen to us right now.”

Her eyes looked wild and full of fear, but Kelly stopped fighting him.

“Squat down,” Tracy ordered. “Steve, give me your shirt.”

Without hesitating, Steve
removed his green military flak jacket, then pulled off his shirt and handed it to Tracy. Kelly lowered herself in the barrel, and looked up at Shane one last time, her eyes desperate and pleading.

“You’ll be safe in here,” Shane
promised, though it felt like he’d said it as much to convince himself as her. He reached in and squeezing her hand one last time.

Nudging Shane out of the way,
Tracy draped Steve’s shirt over the top of the open barrel before putting the lid back on. Shane worried the only way Kelly could get out was if someone opened the barrel from the outside. If they didn’t come back for her, then she’d die, tortured by the sounds of rats trying to chew through the metal to get at her.

“The holes in the top will k
eep the rats out, and the shirt beneath will keep the bugs from getting to her for a while, but she’ll still be able to breathe,” Tracy explained, answering Shane’s concerns.

Shane
helped her use a large, round, metal clamp to lock the lid in place just as a horde of spiders and beetles crawled over the barrel, covering it so completely he could no longer see the metal.

“You okay in there?” Shane yelled
, sweeping the top clear.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Kelly replied
. He could hear the terror in her trembling voice. “But please hurry. I don’t know how long I can take this.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back in no time
,” Shane promised, sick from imagining the slow and horrible death she’d face if for some reason they couldn’t return.

“We have to keep moving
,” Tracy said, turning and hobbling down the tunnel.

Shane gl
anced over his shoulder while they rushed away, leaving the barrel covered in spiders and encircled by rats with Kelly in it in total darkness.

“Shouldn’t we have left her some water?” Shane stopped, about to turn back.

“Yeah, we probably should have,” Tracy replied, sounding aggravated. She held one hand on her injured leg and limped along with her gun raised and pointed into the darkness ahead.

“Don’t worry, w
e’ll be back before she gets too thirsty,” Steve said with more compassion than Tracy seemed capable of, putting a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “We can’t risk opening the barrel now with all those bugs trying to get to her.”

Reluctantly m
oving on, Shane felt like he left a piece of himself behind. He’d come back for her, he vowed. He wouldn’t let her die crunched up in that horrible, dark can.

A herd of r
ats, more than they could possibly have fought off, scurried past them and ran up the tunnel toward Kelly.

“
See,” Tracy pointed out, her voice strained with pain, “she’s definitely better off sealed in the barrel.”

Steve jogged
around a bend ahead of Tracy and Shane, and a deafening roar of gunfire erupted, the tunnel ahead lit up by muzzle flashes.

“Steve?” Shane yelled
, rushing to the corner.

Cursing, Steve rolled back by Shane
, and the gunfire stopped.

Leaning around the corner and s
hining his flashlight down the tunnel, Shane could see another door that looked like it led into a vault.

“That must be the
entrance to the lab,” Tracy whispered over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Shane replied, “and it’s protected by some
crazy-looking guns.” He shined his light up at two guns with multiple rotating barrels pivoting back and forth as if scanning the tunnel.

“Mini-guns,”
Tracy said. “They must only shoot when someone gets a certain distance away.”

The concrete floor and walls of the tunnel had fresh scars on them from where the
guns had shot at Steve.

“How the heck did you get out
of there alive?” Shane asked, looking back to make sure the big linebacker wasn’t hit.

Steve’s face had lost all color. “I don’t have a freaking clue.”

“Look,”
Tracy said, pointing toward a less-impressive metal door on the right side of the tunnel, about fifteen feet away from the vault door.

“You think that’s the battery compartment?” Steve asked
hopefully.

“It has to be,” Shane answered. “But the scientist made it sound like it was less heavily protected than the lab.”

A rat came out of the darkness behind them, screeched, and then bit into Tracy’s shoe. She looked down at it, and then glanced up at Shane with a worried look on her face. She was in the eleventh grade as well, and was the same age as Shane, so he wasn’t sure why the rat had attacked her instead of him. Tracy kicked the rat down the tunnel toward the lab door. The mini-guns pivoted toward it and fired a burst of rounds, turning the rodent into a bloody smudge on the floor.

“When’s your birthday?” Sh
ane asked once the guns stopped, his ears buzzing from the noise.

“July,”
Tracy answered, understanding in her eyes. “When’s yours?”

“October,” Shane replied.

They looked at Steve, and he said, “August.”

Five
spiders crawled out of the darkness toward Tracy, and she stomped on them before they could climb on her shoe.

“The we
apon must be affecting us now,” she said, sounding more nervous than Shane had ever heard her. Shining her flashlight on the floor around them, she added, “We have to get to that side door before we start trying to kill each other.”

“Obviously,” Shane snapped. Anger surged in him
, and he felt the urge to punch Tracy. He knew the weapon had started to tweak his brain. Biting his lip, he fought the aggressive impulses getting worse by the second.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’m going to try and shoot out those guns. You guys might want to stay back.”

Steve and Tracy got behind him, and Shane leaned around the corner. Expecting either of them to go nuts and shoot him in the back at any moment, he took careful aim at the guns.

“Try to target the motor that makes them turn back and forth,”
Tracy whispered.

“I’m not
stupid,” he replied, then bit the side of his tongue, trying to suppress another wave of rage.

When the mini-gun closest to the battery room door
panned to the left, Shane pulled the trigger. He fired a short burst of rounds into the black box under the gun, and it stopped. Before he jerked his head back and took cover, Shane saw both mini-guns return fire. The good one swept back and forth, covering the tunnel in bullets, but the one he’d hit pivoted over a smaller area, only hitting the floor and wall on the right side of the tunnel, opposite the metal door he hoped led to the battery compartment.

“One down, one to go,” he said, glancing back at
Tracy and Steve. He looked at their eyes and tried to discern if they struggled against the near uncontrollable rage he felt. They seemed fine, at least for the moment. 

But then Steve snarled, “What the hell are you waiting for? Shoot the other one out before I shoot you.”

“Chill, dirt bag,” Shane said. Without a second thought, he brought the stalk of his gun back into Steve’s gut.

Bucklin
g over, Steve fell onto his side. Lying on the tunnel floor, he raised the barrel of his gun, pointing it at Shane.

A flash of light exploded from Steve’s M-16, and the cinderblock wall next to Shane’s head
erupted into a cloud of dust. Shane jumped to the side, his face stinging from bits of concrete that hit him.

“Stop!”
Tracy yelled, stepping between them. “Get control of yourselves.”

Steve lay motionless, his eyes wide with shock. Shane wiped away the blood that trickled down his cheek.

“Sorry, man,” Steve said, dropping his gun and pushing it across the floor of the tunnel. “I feel like something is trying to take over my mind.”

“Me too,”
Shane said, remorseful. “I didn’t mean to hit you, bro.”

“We’re all fall
ing apart,” Tracy observed. Shane could see her jaw muscles rippling, like she gritted her teeth to keep from yelling. He expected the only reason she hadn’t lost it yet was because God had run short on emotions when it came time for her to get her share. “Shane, get back over there and shoot out the other mini-gun.”