BISENTIENT, page 31
“Dawn!” hissed Molly.
“We must be quick.” said Dawn, dropping the scalpel and supporting Molly under her arms as she tried to stand. Her legs didn’t want to work at first and the pain from her hands was intruding. Both hands were bloodstained and there were several fingernails missing. Dark stains were on Molly’s shirt and jeans. As she finally felt her legs again and could stand by herself Molly noticed that the two chairs where the men in camouflage had been slumped were empty. She couldn’t help thinking the worst after what she had endured in that room.
Dawn was urging Molly towards the door and motioning for quiet again she opened the door and quickly checked the corridor. Tugging Molly forwards, they both left the storeroom and moved silently along the corridor, staying tight against one wall. It must have been nighttime, Molly thought, because nobody seemed to be about. Her head was still a bit foggy as they stopped outside a door and Dawn tapped gently on it. Opening a crack, she could see one eye looking cautiously out, then the door swung open and Victor motioned them quickly inside.
They seemed to be in another storeroom and not one Molly recognised. Dawn sat her down on some boxes and whispered some words to Victor that Molly couldn’t make out. Victor turned around and began checking some boxes before coming back with what looked like packing tape and some cloths. Working quickly, Dawn ripped some of the rags into makeshift bandages and wrapped Molly’s hands, cocooning them in packing tape halfway up her forearms.
“What’s going on?” asked Molly as Dawn tore the final piece of packing tape with her teeth and smoothed the end down.
“We need to get out of here.” said Dawn. “There’s something bad going on. Did you see those men in the room where you were?”
“Yes.” replied Molly.
“Well they’re dead.” said Dawn. “I saw them being moved yesterday by that creep Clayton”
“Who were they?” asked Molly.
“We don’t know.” said Victor. “But why would they be killed?”
“How can we get out?” asked Molly.
“There’s a tunnel that is used to bring in equipment and to remove trash.” said Dawn. “I’ve seen stuff arrive through it, it must lead to the surface.”
“But they’ll stop us leaving.” said Molly.
“We must try.” said Victor. “I don’t think what is being done here is the Lord’s work.”
Dawn looked at him and nodded slightly in agreement.
“But it’ll be dangerous.” said Molly.
“Staying here will be dangerous.” said Victor. “You’ve seen that machine, it’s not safe, it could take out the whole mountain with the energy it produces. No, we must leave and warn people about this. It’s wrong.”
Molly could see the conflict on Victor’s face. She knew him well enough to know he was devout in his beliefs and a sincere member of the CoR. His eyes betrayed the fear and panic he was feeling, and it was overcoming his faith.
One hundred and fifty feet above Molly, Dawn and Victor, the six pairs of ex-special forces men picked their way carefully over the hillside in search of the ventilation tunnels. It was a clear and chilly night with a beautiful carpet of stars. The mission leader had a small device strapped to his left forearm. Occasionally a short message would scroll across the small screen. It was other pairs reporting when they had deployed their canisters and the remote-control devices. After forty minutes, all pairs had placed their canisters inside the ventilation tunnels, as close to the large-bladed fans as possible to avoid leakage of the deadly contents to the night outside. A second scrolling message informed the mission leader that satellites had observed no unusual movements around the base, so it was likely that their presence had not been detected. Not yet at least.
The men then descended and quickly covered the two klicks to the pickup point, where within ten minutes they were collected by helicopter and whisked away into the night.
Faith Cantrell’s mobile buzzed and danced on her desk. The message read:
‘Sleeping Beauty deployed’. Having spent a lifetime in public service, when she had been approached as others before her, and been indoctrinated into the knowledge about the threat from the entity, she had almost felt honoured. It had terrified her that so much of human society was apparently being influenced and that this entity clearly wished harm to humanity. She had felt that she could really make a difference. That her life would really mean something. But she had to accept, along with all those that work in secret, that her efforts could never be acknowledged. There had been times, of course, when decisions she had made caused lives to be lost. In all positions of real power this is an inevitability, but choices like the one before her now were hard to reconcile. With her knowledge she had to believe that the vast majority of members of the CoR were ordinary people. Like so many other Americans that put religion in a place of special significance in their lives. She knew that Rev. Daniels was an unstable, deluded and possibly evil man. The people in the mountain base were doing what they were doing for some misguided belief but that didn’t make it any less dangerous. The whole reason the organisation she had become a part of existed was because it was quickly realised that they could not trust the changing winds of politics to maintain focus. Apart from the risk of widespread and uncontrollable panic amongst society, if the truth was revealed there was the very real likelihood that successive governments could mishandle, play down or even choose to ignore the situation if political expediency dictated. Unidentified Aerial Phenomena (UAP) were another class of events that, although known to the public and governments, were paid little attention. Evidence for the entity was less concrete than that for UAP and it was in this way that the entity had been able to operate unchallenged for centuries.
Cantrell sipped her coffee, but it was cold. Time was standing still for her, yet she also knew it was racing ahead and that she had to act to prevent a possible catastrophe of literally global proportions. Her mind had gone over the information more than once. A device that can distort spacetime and perhaps form one end of a bridge to a distant place. It could be another part of our galaxy or even in another galaxy entirely. She could barely comprehend what had been suggested. As her mind wrestled with what she had to choose she also wondered if somehow, they might have got it all wrong. Perhaps the entity was not malevolent at all but trying to help humanity. She remembered that this proposition had been put forward many times over the years by prominent academics enrolled in the organisation. History reminded her that when a group is faced with such options when judging another group’s intentions, the cautious approach, which may then become defensive and finally aggressive, is often considered the most prudent.
Cantrell picked up her phone and pressed a speed dial.
“Ma’am?”
“Execute.” said Cantrell, a tear was forming in the corner of her left eye.
In six separate rocky tunnels in the side of the same mountain a screen flickered into life. A countdown began from ten. As the number reached zero a soft click and whirring began, followed closely by loud hissing. The blades of the large fans slowly circled in their cages, drawing the lethal chemical deep into the mountain.
Molly, Dawn and Victor were moving in single file along corridors heading roughly east. Dawn was in front as she thought she remembered the way to the supply tunnel. They passed the hall with the device, its huge bulk almost filling the entire chamber now. Moving further they had to stop suddenly as a guard walked across their path about thirty feet ahead but seemed to be heading somewhere and not patrolling, thus paying little attention. At the next junction they paused as there was a group of four guards talking in a corridor they needed to cross. They were about fifteen yards away but would probably notice any movement if Molly, Dawn and Victor tried to cross. Dawn looked back at Victor and Molly, her brows knitted in a frown, and she nodded her head in the direction of the guards.
“What now?” she whispered.
Molly edged forwards and peered carefully around the corner at the guards.
One of the guards was walking down the corridor away from them.
“Do you hear that?” he said. “Sounds like a sort of hiss, maybe a leak somewhere.”
The other three glanced his way then resumed their conversation. Molly watched. The first guard was now about ten yards further down the corridor when he bent to look at one of the air circulation vents. As he bent down, he suddenly seemed to lose motor control and his arms went limp, he sank to his knees then fell forwards crashing against the vent. The other guards turned.
“Chuck, don’t fuck around.” said one, as he walked towards his colleague. When he got within six feet of the fallen guard he too seemed to go limp and sank to the floor.
“What the fuck!” said one of the two remaining guards.
“Gas!” said the other and they turned and ran. They ran straight through the junction where Molly was watching without noticing her presence.
The effects of nerve agents are similar. Able to enter the body either by inhalation or absorbed through the skin early signs are chest tightening and difficulty in breathing. Other symptoms include vomiting and incontinence. Usually, victims die from asphyxiation or cardiac arrest.
“We need to move!” said Molly. “There’s some sort of gas.”
“This way” said Victor and they followed him back the way they had come. Turning right, then left, he stopped outside a door before pushing it open. Inside hanging on a rail to one side were two full Hazardous Material (HazMat) suits. The same suits that the technicians used when preparing the machine for its tests.
“Quickly.” said Victor. “Climb inside.”
Molly stepped into the bulky suit through the long slit down the back. She ducked into the helmet and Victor carefully zipped up the back. He then helped Dawn into the other suit.
“What about you?” asked Molly from behind the face mask in muffled urgency.
“There are only two here.” said Victor. “You must go, now! I’ll find another.”
“We can’t leave you.” said Dawn but Victor was guiding her by the arm and opening the door.
“You must.” he said, looking quickly up and down the corridor “Go quickly.”
Dawn and Molly exchanged a glance, but Victor was insistent and pushed Dawn through the door. Molly quickly hugged Victor, pain shooting up her arms from her damaged hands.
“Thank you.” she mouthed through the foggy glass of the HazMat helmet.
Dawn was running as best she could in the clumsy suit with Molly behind. As they rounded one corner, a small woman collapsed against Dawn and clawed at her arms to stop herself falling. Her eyes were wide as she fought for breath. Dawn could do little but watch the life drain from the woman’s face and let her gently slide to the floor. Dawn turned to Molly with a look of fear and despair. Molly touched Dawn’s arm and encouraged her to keep going.
At first, Dawn and Molly could hear shouting, then screaming but now there was silence. They reached a locked door and Dawn picked a card from a fallen guard and held it to the lock. A heavy metallic clunk and they were through. Another similar door waited for them at the end of that corridor until they found themselves in the long tunnel used by the delivery trucks. They began to jog along the tunnel but soon slowed to a walk, breathing heavily in the hot suits. After what seemed a long time, they could see shapes ahead that looked like an opening. As they got closer, they could see the night sky. Molly could feel some of the tension dropping away. Dawn turned to look at Molly and Molly smiled, Dawn smiled back, tears running down both cheeks.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
MOLLY AND DAWN scrambled down the unmade road leading away from Redemption. It was slightly downhill and allowed them to take bigger strides as they tried to put enough distance between them and whatever it was that had been killing everyone inside. At about a hundred yards from the entrance they stopped, breathing heavily and Dawn helped Molly out of her suit. With her bandaged hands, Molly took longer to release Dawn but they were soon sitting together on a rock getting their breath back after their narrow escape.
“What happened in there?” Dawn asked at last.
“I don’t know, some sort of toxic gas or something. Maybe a leak?” said Molly.
“I don’t see anyone else, do you think they got out?”
Molly looked back up the slope to the hidden entrance. There was no noise and certainly no people. She looked back at Dawn but said nothing.
“Victor, do you think Victor’s ok?” asked Dawn.
“He could be.” said Molly. “He knew where these suits were, maybe he knew about others.”
Dawn began to cry quietly, hanging her head. Molly moved closer and put an arm around Dawn’s shoulder.
“He was so kind to me.” said Dawn.
Molly was breathing normally now and realised that she should get a message to Mason as soon as possible. She realised that she would need help as she felt her hands throbbing beneath the bandages.
“Dawn.” said Molly. “We have to get away from here. I have friends that can come and get us but I need your help.”
Dawn sat up and drew her sleeve across her eyes, taking away most of the tears.
“I have a phone.” began Molly. “But it’s hidden and I need you to get it.”
“Okay.”
Molly opened her legs and pointed with a bandaged hand to her crotch. Dawn looked at Molly as it sank in where Molly had hidden the phone.
“Really?” said Dawn “Here let me…”
Dawn undid Molly’s jeans and slipped them down to her ankles, gently moving aside her underwear. Dawn carefully retrieved the phone in its prophylactic sleeve and passed it to Molly. Molly shrugged and held out her hands.
“You’ll need to do it.” she said.
Dawn dialed the one speed dial number in the phone. It rang but the signal was inconsistent. It was answered and Dawn passed the phone to Molly who cradled it as best she could in her hands and held it to her ear.
“Mason!” she said. “Is that you?”
“Molly, what’s happened? Are you okay?” said Plater.
Molly was close to tears as she managed to reply: “Yes, I’m okay. Can you come and get me?”
“Yes, where are you?” asked Plater.
Molly thought for a moment and glanced around, remembering the direction of the sun when she had made her surface excursions to send the messages.
“I think we’re on the East side of the mountain. There’s a rough road, with a shack and an old rusty truck.”
“Okay.” said Plater. “You said ‘we’?”
“Yes, I have Dawn Moran with me.”
“Moran? Dawn Moran? Is it Kathleen’s daughter?” said Plater.
“I think so, yes.” said Molly. “But I’m not sure.”
“Okay, you stay put, we’ll be there as fast as we can.” said Plater.
Molly looked over at Dawn, who was looking out across the valley. The cool air was starting to turn colder.
“My friends are coming.” said Molly. “Maybe we should walk down the road, I’m sure they’ll come that way.”
Dawn seemed shaken out of a dream.
“Yes, yes, right” she said. “All those people, there must have been hundreds.”
They started down the rough road in silence, both trying in their own ways to understand what had just happened and wondering why.
It was more than three hours later and the sun had risen over the peaceful landscape as Dawn and Molly first saw the dust clouds in the distance. Two vehicles were approaching, moving quite fast considering the terrain. It was a while before Molly could make out the shapes and confirm that it was Mason and Erik. She put her arm around Dawn as if to reassure her that they were about to be rescued.
As the 4x4 made short work of the slope just in front, it slid to a gravelly stop and both front doors opened at once. Erik got out one side and Kathleen Moran the other. They both began to run towards Dawn and Molly. Kathleen suddenly stopped and stared.
“Dawn!” she cried “Dawn! Is that you?”
Dawn Moran was shocked to see her mother on the dusty unmade road ahead of her. Without warning strong emotions of relief, gratitude and joy overwhelmed her and she dashed to her mother’s open arms and clutched her as the tears flooded.
Erik reached Molly and at once checked her bandaged hands.
“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked as he put an arm around Molly and scanned the hillside for any movement. He saw none.
“Molly!” cried Plater as he joined them “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Erik stepped back and Plater hugged Molly so tightly she could hardly breathe.
“What happened? You’re hurt…” said Plater as he let her go.
“I’m okay, really.” said Molly. “I’d like to sit down.”
Plater helped Molly to his car and Kathleen helped Dawn to the 4x4 unwilling to let her go for a second. They drove in virtual silence back to the makeshift camp about five kilometers away. Erik made some coffee while Plater carefully undid the bandages on Molly’s hands.
“Who did this?” he said.
“They said his name was Clayton.” replied Molly, feeling the pain in her hands again as the bandages came off.
“What sort of a man does this.” muttered Plater as he gently dabbed the wounds with antiseptic before carefully re-wrapping the hands in fresh bandages.
“They killed two men.” said Molly. “I saw their bodies; they were dressed like soldiers.”
“Could you tell if they were Americans ?” asked Erik as he placed two steaming cups of coffee on the ground beside them.
“Not really.” said Molly. “They just had camouflage jackets and trousers on.”
“Guess Uncle Sam wouldn’t be too pleased to find one of his old bases being used for this stuff.” said Erik as he moved away to give coffees to Dawn and Kathleen.
“How did you get out?” asked Plater.
