Free Necropolis by S. A. Lusher Page B

It appeared to be little more than a large, three-story structure with a vast array of monitoring equipment set into the top and sides of it.
    “ And there it is,” Kyra murmured. “Weather Research Station Number Thirty One.”
    Greg scanned the immediate area for movement, but saw nothing. When they were within ten meters of the structure, they braked and shut down the jeeps. Greg stepped out, sniffed the air, and brought his shotgun into play.
    He couldn't smell anything but wet wasteland air.
    Greg adjusted the shoulder strap so that the shotgun hung more comfortably and glanced at the others. They seemed competent and ready for action. For a moment, it made him feel inadequate. Here were two trained killers and he was just a guy with memory loss who only had his reflexes. Greg was glad that they were at least good reflexes.
    He shook off the feeling and focused. Sharp. He needed to be sharp for this.
    “ We should try short-range radios,” Cage suggested.
    Kyra and Greg agreed, so he activated his and called out to anyone that might be alive nearby.
    There was no response but the lonely silence.
    The trio advanced on the structure. Greg watched the windows, the main entryway into the building, the corners...there was nothing, just cold desolation. They all came to the front door and hesitated. Finally, Cage hit the access button. The doors slid open to reveal a lengthy stretch of barren corridor.
    Cage slipped into the building. “I'll take point.”
    His sniper rifle rested on his back, his pistol clasped in his hands. Greg and Kyra backed him up, following him in. Greg studied the corridor as they stepped into it. Doors were stamped into the walls on either side at irregular intervals. The hallway ended in closed elevator doors. After checking their radios, they decided to split up to cover more ground. They cleared the rooms one by one, moving with care. The first room Greg came to appeared to be a break room.
    It was cramped and square, holding a pair of couches wedged into an L shape along the back and left walls, a pair of mini-fridges, a microwave on a counter in another corner, and a coffee table with a stained, scarred surface in the center. The place felt lived in, like everyone just up and left a moment ago.
    Greg found a congealed burrito in the microwave. He left it where it was and finished his search. There was nothing of use in the break room. He shifted his hunt down the corridor, to a white-tiled bathroom. He pushed open all the stall doors with the barrel of his shotgun, finding nothing but an ugly, unflushed surprise in the last stall. He glanced out the single window in the room, and saw nothing but stark desolation.
    Greg left the bathroom, checking in with the others. They had found nothing so far. He wondered if the infection had even hit here. Maybe they had just up and left. It made him feel hopeful. If they'd just up and left, they should have left their comms system intact.
    “ I've got something. A corpse.” Cage's cold voice cut through the silence, causing Greg to jump in surprise. He was glad no one else was with him in the corridor.
    “ Where are you?” Kyra’s voice was doubled as she stepped out into the main hallway with Greg.
    “ End of the corridor. Left side. Dorms.”
    They followed Cage's instructions and entered a smaller, narrower corridor with four doors on either side, each one equally spaced apart. He stood outside the last one on the left. Greg peered into the dormitory, finding it squat and squalid, hardly large enough to be called a bedroom, let alone living quarters.
    A single corpse lay in the center of the room, its head mostly gone, a spray of black blood on the wall behind it. The pale, diseased thing lay in a pool of its own thick gore. It wore a light green jumpsuit and had once been a man.
    “ Looks like they weren't spared,” Kyra murmured.
    They searched the room, and with much care, the body, but there was nothing useful tucked away. They left the