Free Intended Extinction by Greg Hanks Page B

from here?” she asked.
    “Yes. Let’s just hope it’s clear,” responded Kelly, touching a few options on the keypad.
    Tara helped me get to my feet and we trudged over to the door. She only had a few cuts on her face, nothing too serious. I was grateful for her support, but it should have been me helping her .
    We reached the side of the door, and looked at each other.
    “We stay together, okay?” I said, indirectly including Kelly, too.
    Tara bit her lip and nodded.
    “It’s not far,” said Kelly, “There’s a corridor, then a left turn. After that there’s one more corridor and we’re home free.”
    “Let’s do it,” I said.

12
    The glossy door slid upward. We stepped through the threshold into a white-washed corridor. Our footsteps echoed as we ran across the pearl flooring. We came to a “T” and took the left turn.
    Home free. Home free . . .
    The next corridor was just as bright as the last. I was expecting to see the beautiful sight of golden glass doors, but was let down when another corner presented itself.
    “Don’t worry,” said Kelly, practically reading my mind, “the doors are just past the turn.”
    We sped up and approached the exit, not thinking of what we were going to do next. That would come later.
    As Kelly took the corner, a blur of tar pushed her back.
    Kelly! I screamed inwardly, too shocked to vocalize. The thick, metallic shaft of a suppressor jolted as the rifle discharged. Kelly’s head jerked to the side and she fell to the hard ground, blood pooling around her.
    The rest of the killer’s body rounded the corner. My reflexes tightened and I lunged forward, trying to protect Tara from another bullet. I hit the armored man with such force that we reeled into the opposite wall. The soldier fired arbitrary rounds into the air as we toppled onto the floor. Tara’s shouts were silenced by my adrenaline and rage.
    Realizing that Tara was in shock and might not grab his weapon, I tried to hold him down. I braced his thighs with my knees and struggled to keep his wrists to the floor. I screamed at Tara to go for the weapon, but he was too capable; he twisted his arms out of my lock and hammered my face with a metal fist. I gasped and fell over, tasting blood in my mouth. I felt hands clench the back of my shirt as he heaved me toward the corner where I smacked my shoulder and crumpled at the base of the wall. Disoriented, I turned to see him. An amoebic, ballistic-suited man stood above me, gripping a silver dagger.
    He raised his hand, ready to deliver the serrated knife into my skull.
    “Duck!”
    I dropped my head.
    A hollow blast tore my eardrums and I heard what sounded like paint being splattered over the wall. Pieces of heavy synthetic plating and debris hit my back and legs while I kept my hands protecting my brain. I felt warm slime seep into my clothes. I coughed and nearly threw up onto the floor. I regained some of my composure and looked to the exit. Another man stood in front of me, looking down the sights of a shotgun.
    “C’mon! They’re gonna come for ‘im!” said the mysterious savior, lowering his weapon and helping Tara to her feet.
    I remained in my heap of filth, shaking. Someone’s entrails were covering me like a spandex leotard, Kelly had been killed, and I was almost impaled by a six-inch blade.
    “Will you get it together?” said the man sharply, snatching the enemy’s rifle and walking toward the doors. He had short, brown hair, with heavy eyebrows. His nose and cheeks were cratered and splotchy, which fit his furious stare.
    “What about Kelly?” asked Tara with magnified eyes.
    “You kiddin’?” he scoffed. “If we lug her around, we’ll be dead before we can make it across the street.”
    Tara turned to Kelly’s lifeless body, kneeling above her bloody mess. A giant hole gaped over Kelly’s right eyebrow, slowly oozing blood down her temple. Tara struggled to hold back her wail of shock, putting a hand over the girl’s face and