Free Syberian Sunrise by S. A. Lusher Page B

save for a security desk. There were two doors out. Ramirez made for the one on the right.
    “Come on,” he said, his voice low, “this is how I got in. We need to get up higher, regroup with my CO, he'll know what to do.”
    “Yeah, I'm sure,” Enzo muttered.
    They moved through the door and came to a corridor that'd been repainted with blood. They moved down it, staying silent for the moment. Ramirez opened the door on the opposite end and stepped through. Enzo lingered, frowning. The next room was very dark, lit only by a curious green glow. He studied it for a moment.
    “Come on,” Ramirez whispered harshly.
    Enzo stepped through. Something about that glow made him uncomfortable. Flanking him on either side were rows of human-sized containers. The glow was emanating from them, well, some of them. There were dozens of them, they lined the entire wall, from floor to ceiling, stacked atop each other. Rows and columns of the coffins, three high, something like thirty across. Enzo stopped again, briefly stricken by the sight.
    “This is where they keep the test subjects, I guess,” Ramirez said quietly.
    “Where do they get them from?” Enzo murmured, turning and approaching the nearest one that was still light. Less than a quarter of them still had light. He figured that meant that those were the only ones with live people inside.
    “I don't know for sure. I heard rumors that they were raiding prison transports, you know, guys that were already convicted anyway. I imagine they'd cover it up, make up some sort of story. But,” he shrugged, “I don't know for sure.”
    “I do,” Enzo murmured.
    “You do?”
    “I was on a prison transport, hitchhiking, before I woke up here. This is where I must have been. Eve said the only way to get me out of my tube was to put me down into the furnace,” Enzo murmured, staring at the person inside.
    It was a man, and only his head and shoulders were visible through the glass. He was floating in liquid, a breathing mask hooked up to his face, as well as several wires. This was how he must have looked, Enzo realized with a shudder.
    “We should help them,” Ramirez said suddenly. “I mean, we can't just leave them like this.”
    “Yes, we can,” Enzo replied. “We need to get out of here.”
    Ramirez frowned, clearly unhappy with the response. Enzo sighed and tried to play the diplomat. “They're safer in there. You really want a couple dozen naked, confused prisoners following us around?” he asked.
    Ramirez thought about it, but still seemed unsatisfied.
    Enzo sighed again. “Fine, I'll call Eve. But if we can't figure a way to get them out, then we're leaving. Or, more importantly, I'm leaving.”
    “Fine,” Ramirez replied.
    Enzo fired the radio up. He spent a moment trying to get in touch with Eve, but still received no reply. Nothing, not even the soft whisper of static. He was beginning to suspect that the thing had been broken somehow.
    “See? Nothing,” Enzo said. “Let's go.”
    Ramirez reluctantly followed him out of the darkened room and into another corridor. They moved silently down it. Enzo was still toying with the idea of simply staying put on the current level and exploring, but his shoulder was starting to bug him again and he was getting a bad feeling from the area. He was still weighing his options when they stepped out of the corridor and came into the next room, where Ramirez said they could escape through.
    “Uh oh,” Ramirez said quietly, freezing up, raising his rifle.
    Enzo had to agree with that assessment. The room he'd come to was vast, warehouse-sized. The walls were lined with cages of unbreakable glass and steel in a grid pattern, going all the way up to the ceiling. A handful of surgery bays occupied the center of the room, in between the ranked rows of the cages. Most of them were open, emptied and bloodied. Only a handful were left occupied by a scant few Mutants and Slugs.
    “This is where they keep the specimens,” Enzo