Free Spores by Ian Woodhead

down.”
    “Bullshit,” she muttered, reaching for the door, “They wouldn’t dare.”
    Hayder cursed, she risked a glance behind her and yelped when she saw them climbing onto the tables.
    “Come back here,” he snarled.
    Amber almost fell through the doors in panic. She got to her feet and saw another door a few metres to her left. Amber chose that route instead of running for the lift. There wasn’t a chance in hell of reaching the service lift before they would catch up to her.
    The last time she was down here, she spent nearly a full hour going through all the cupboards and drawers. This area had always held her attention for more than a few minutes.
    The doorway led into a kitchen area that looked like it had been frozen in time. The place was still fully stocked up and judging from the state of the antiquated equipment and the state of the cans of food in the cupboards, it hadn’t been occupied for at least half a century.
    As she raced into the kitchen, she noticed straight away that one of the cupboard doors under one of the preparation tables was wide open. That door had been shut when she’d left, she’d stake her life on it. Amber wondered who could have been in here but she heard those boot steps getting closer and realized that it didn’t really matter.
    There was no time to find a better hiding place, that cupboard would have to do. Amber climbed backwards into the cramped space and used the narrow slats cut into the wood to close the door.
    Her stomach sank when the two soldiers rushed through the doors; oh this was just not fair. How could they possibly know where she was going all the time? Amber attempted to slow down her ragged breathing and attempted to relax. She looked at the two tins beside her knee and tried to imitate their stillness, pretty fucking difficult when sweat flowed into her eyes and her heart sounded like a bloody drum roll.
    “Are you sure she’s in here?” asked Pembroke
    This really wasn’t right; the bastard wasn’t even out of breath.
    “Of course I’m bloody sure,” replied the gingered haired soldier. “We’ve just spent the last half hour running her down. She’ll be well fucked by now, it makes sense that she’ll go to ground.”
    Amber watched them through the slats. The fuckers were checking everywhere.
    “She’ll be well fucked by the time I get hold of her,” chuckled Pembroke as he pulled open a drawer.
    “What the fuck are you looking in there for? How small do you think she is?”
    “What do you think Jackson will do if we don’t find her?”
    Hayder stopped pulling out pans from a cupboard next to him, “That option just doesn’t fucking exist.”
    “But what if we don’t?” he persisted. “I still can’t believe we bumped into Jackson in the medical section.”
    Hayder sighed loudly, “If you hadn’t looked so fucking guilty when he barked at you, I may have been able to blag our way through.”
    “What are you on about? I didn’t look pissing guilty.”
    “Bollocks, you looked as though he’d just caught you with your hand on his wife’s left tit.”
    “It weren’t you he stared at though was it Hayder? His eyes drilled right into my skull.”
    “It’s about time you grew a pair, Pembroke. I’ve told you before. Jackson sees the worse in everyone. You just need to act all offended and get all uppity back at him.”
    Pembroke abruptly spun around. Amber let out an involuntary gasp. Oh shit, he was looking right at her.
    “Did you hear that? I’m sure I heard a noise over there.”
    She glanced to the side of her and silently moaned. She’d knocked over one of those tins and not even bloody noticed. How fucking clumsy could she be?
    Pembroke giggled, “I do believe that I can see a painted nail. Hello in there? Do you want to come out and play with us?”
    She picked up one of the tins and shuffled back, Amber didn’t intend to be captured without putting up some sort of fight. The man padded over, taking his time,