Lair by Carl Stubblefield (recommended reading TXT) 📕

one of the bunks was moved, just the right timbre to give Methiochos a shiver. He backed up toward the lights near the entrance, keeping his own light fanning in a swath in front of him. More sounds and rustling were emanating from the dark. As he reached the bank of switches, he flipped them on with his non-shield forearm.

The harsh white LED overhead lights came on; Methiochos saw multiple figures moving toward him. Some looked like they were sleepwalking, others poised nimbly on the bedposts of the bunk beds. As he fiddled with the door, one of the crew jumped off a bedpost with his blackened fingernails extended, making scratching and clawing motions.

Methiochos barely covered himself in time with his bone shield and returned the attack with a shield bash to the face. The man tripped backward, three fingernails ripped out and still embedded in the bone.

Methiochos retreated out of the barracks doors and hit the control scan pad by the door. “Lock door.” The panel outline shifted to red as people, or things that had been people, began to bang and slap against the locked door. Tilting his arm to look at the fingernails embedded in his forearm, he made his way to the infirmary.

Activating his communicator, Methiochos called his security team and advised them of the situation. To cordon off the barracks and block any air ducts in case more of the affected crew were in there.

Methiochos dropped to a knee as he was hit by a headache. It felt like part of his consciousness was being shorn away, attempting to pull him out of the memory. He had to get to the bottom of this. Bracing himself, the feeling passed after a tense minute. He shook his head to clear it, then he continued to the infirmary.

His soldiers were there in full tactical gear, surveying the scene outside the infirmary. Holmes reported on what they had found. There had been no changes since they had arrived. The area appeared abandoned, and they had not seen anyone in the halls or surrounding area, which in and of itself was odd.

Methiochos peered into the darkened infirmary. A light fixture had been partially ripped off the ceiling and released occasional sparks as it swung above the chaos, flickering intermittently. Beds had been upturned and bedding torn. Equipment had been knocked to the ground, some spilling their electronic guts onto the floor. Besides the flickering light swinging back and forth, there was no other illumination. It must be on backup power; likely a breaker had tripped. The computers were located at the back of the room, and he needed to get there to check the logs. Fortunately, the breaker panel was right next to the computer banks.

Methiochos stepped into the room, surprised to find the ground wet. Turning on the flashlight of his multitool yet again, he stepped into the room. He lightly kicked an IV stand to move it to the side and shuffled around the debris. It was a shock to see something as clean and austere as the infirmary had devolved to such chaos. He had to highstep over a side-rail to a patient bed that had been bent into an omega shape.

What had happened here? As he approached the breaker panel, he slid the latch and opened the door. Stepping closer to push the master breaker, he extended his hand, reaching out when there was a loud *CRACK!*

Chapter Forty-One

Sabotage

“Dammit, Holmes!” someone yelled. Everyone looked back as Holmes sheepishly stepped back, revealing a cracked motherboard from one of the broken pieces of equipment. Methiochos flipped the breaker on and the computers came back to life, taking longer to reboot because of the sudden power loss. The records showed Dara checking in about three hours before, then checking out just a short time afterward.

There should have been nine other people in the infirmary, including staff, those getting routine physicals, and four receiving treatment after minor injuries while training. The communicator vibrated a bit, indicating an incoming message.

“Sir, you wanted us to give you a proximity alert when we were fifty miles from the island. I expect us to be there within the hour,” came the notice from the bridge.

“Acknowledged. You haven’t noticed anything… off, have you?”

“No, sir. Although, we haven’t been receiving status reports as often, which is common when the men are making final preparations for landfall and debarking.”

“Noted. Thank you, let me know if there are any changes. Methiochos out.” Leaving the infirmary, the quiet in the otherwise busy hallways was unsettling. While trying to formulate his next orders, there was a scuttling in the ductwork above. Gritting his teeth, he yelled, “Follow that noise!”

Whatever was in the ducts had bolted and the men ran recklessly, rushing to overtake whatever was inside. Eventually they ended at the research labs. Humanoid forms dropped in through the ductwork. Their limbs were bent at impossible angles and they leaped around, spilling papers and knocking trays with samples off counters as they attacked the poor scientists within. Before the soldiers could make it inside, some contaminant detector activated and the large white sliding doors went into lockdown mode. White foggy gas sprayed from the ceiling, filling the room with decontaminant, but also obscuring the view.

Methiochos tried to override the door lock but even his clearance would not allow the doors to release a possible pathogen once the lockdown was initiated. The crashing sounds soon stilled, but nothing could be seen in the swirling white mist.

Another hum and someone from the bridge announced, “Sir, you said to contact you if anything irregular happened. There is a little girl here, she says she needs to see you… I was unaware that there were any children on this mission…” he trailed off.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Methiochos yelled. Keying his comms, he advised the bridge he’d be right there. He signaled the group to follow as he made his way to the bridge. Had Archon expected his betrayal? Was