Free Virus Attack by Andy Briggs Page B

Worm asked doubtfully.
    Basilisk’s voice oozed admiration. “You are looking at one of the most destructive forces on the planet. This is Viral.”
    Viral was no more than twenty-five, dressed in dirty black jeans and a crumpled black shirt. His long hair was ruffled, and his stubbly face was gaunt and pale with black-rimmed eyes. He looked like an ill Goth, which was an amazing achievement by anyone’s standards. He regarded his saviors with a jaundiced eye.
    â€œWho’re you?”
    â€œWe’re your ticket out of here. But you must do as I ask.”
    Viral considered for a moment as he gazed around his bare cell. “Not like I’ve got much going on here.” He stood up and couldn’t help but smile when his three rescuers quickly stepped backward. He gave Trojan an appraising look up and down as he shielded his eyes from the extra illumination in the corridor.
    He grinned, showing yellow teeth. “What’s the plan?”
    Trojan shrugged. “I can get us out of here, but it’s going to take a couple of minutes for me to recharge.”
    â€œRecharge?” Basilisk said impatiently. “You’re a Prime!”
    â€œTunneling through walls or across open space is easy enough, but the more difficult the obstructions, the more it takes out of me. Takes a little while for me to get my energy reserves back. All teleportation powers are like that.”
    â€œWe don’t have a couple of minutes,” intoned Worm, as the door at the far end of the corridor clunked open and a dozen armed Enforcers pushed through, having been alerted when they had finally looked at their security monitors. Seeing their prisoner escaping, they raised their heavy assault rifles.
    â€œOpen fire!”
    Trojan gripped the hem of her cape and threw it in a wide arc—it expanded in size to almost the width of the corridor and then suddenly held rigidly in place. The bullets hit the solid cloak, some ricocheted off into the walls and ceiling. Sparks erupted at the feet of the Enforcers as some bullets bounced right back at them.
    â€œCease fire! Cease fire!” one of them yelled.
    Trojan looked at her companions. “That’s bought us several seconds. Now what?”
    Basilisk pushed past Trojan, her cloak dropping to the floor like a heavy sheet and retracting to its normal size as though made from elastic. The Enforcers were now faced with Basilisk, who was peeling his hood back.
    â€œOpen fire! Open fire!” yelled the same man who had just told them to stop. The Enforcers were confused by the conflicting orders—and that hesitation cost them dearly.
    Basilisk’s eyes gleamed. To the Enforcers, it was like looking into the sun, as they felt pain rack their bodies. The initial sudden jolt was replaced by a cool sensation like drifting in a frigid ocean. They were unaware that their bodies were being turned to stone from the outside in.
    Only four of the Enforcers had the presence of mind to look away—but eight of their companions turned pale gray as their skin petrified. Within seconds they were nothing more than highly detailed stone statues.
    The remaining Enforcers backed quickly through the door, and whoever was watching the security camera monitors had the presence of mind to hit the alarm.
    Worm looked around as a siren warbled through the complex. “Not bad. Just another hundred or so more guards and we’re scot-free.”
    â€œThis escape plan sucks,” sniffed Viral.
    Basilisk ignored the jibe and advanced toward the hub. They would have to bide their time until Trojancould reenergize her powers. As he entered the hub he brushed past the petrified guards, who crumbled to dust. In the meantime he might as well have a little fun.
    The hub was a massive hemispherical chamber with other high-security doors leading to a gallery of evil. In the middle of the room was an elevator column. The reinforced elevator doors swished closed,