Chapitre 12: Chapter 12: Last Words-3
The room felt colder, the dim light casting long shadows that danced ominously across the cluttered surfaces. Paul Simmons broke the silence, his voice rough and urgent. "There's one way we might stop this," he said, his eyes darting between the grim faces around him. "The maintenance tunnels—if we can get to the main control node, we could manually reset the system, override the lockdown."
Dr. Janice Cooper's brows furrowed as she considered the possibility. "But the tunnels are a maze, and there's no guarantee we'll make it in time. The infected could be anywhere down there."
Paul's jaw tightened. "It's a risk, but it's our only shot. If we don't try, we're dead anyway."
The tension was palpable, each person in the room weighing the gravity of the situation. The timer on the screen continued its relentless countdown, a harsh reminder of their dwindling options.
Marcus Holt, standing near the door, shifted nervously. His hand hovered over his holstered sidearm, a basic 9mm handgun that suddenly felt inadequate. "I'll go with you," he volunteered, though his voice wavered. "I know the security protocols. Maybe I can help."
Dr. Cooper nodded, her blue eyes sharp with determination. "I'll go too. If we're going to reset the system, we'll need someone who understands the network infrastructure."
Sarah Frost, still seated on the floor, looked up at them. Her face was pale, tear-streaked, but there was a steely resolve in her eyes. "I'll stay here and monitor the systems," she said, her voice firmer now. "I'll guide you through the tunnels."
Emily Marsh glanced between Sarah and the others, her decision clear. "I'm staying with Sarah," she said firmly, her red hair glowing under the harsh light. "We need to stick together."
Paul exhaled, the weight of their plan settling over him. "Alright then. Dr. Cooper, Marcus, and I will head to the tunnels. Sarah, you keep us posted on any changes. Emily, stay close—if something goes wrong, we'll need you to stabilize anyone who's hurt."
As they prepared to leave, the room buzzed with a sense of urgency. Dr. Cooper grabbed her personal data device, securing it in her lab coat pocket. Paul adjusted his tool belt, making sure his flashlight was easily accessible, while Marcus double-checked his handgun, his fingers trembling slightly as he ensured it was fully loaded.
They moved toward the exit, the metallic click of the door handle echoing ominously in the near-silence. Paul paused, glancing back at Sarah and Emily. "We'll be back soon," he said, though the uncertainty in his voice was impossible to miss.
Emily nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Be careful."
With that, Paul led the way into the darkened corridors, the oppressive air of the Hive closing in around them as they headed for the maintenance tunnels. The door swung shut behind them, leaving Sarah and Emily alone in the control room, the ominous countdown still ticking away.
The flickering lights overhead cast long, eerie shadows as the two women shared a glance, both knowing that whatever happened next, nothing would ever be the same.
---
The tunnels seemed to close in around them, a claustrophobic labyrinth of shadows and echoing footfalls. Paul Simmons led the way, his sturdy flashlight cutting a narrow path through the oppressive darkness. Sparks sputtered from damaged conduits overhead, briefly illuminating the grim faces of the group before plunging them back into shadow.
Dr. Janice Cooper kept pace, her breaths quick and shallow. Every step was a race against the ticking clock, the distant sounds of chaos echoing through the passages, a grim reminder of what they were up against. Her personal data device beeped softly, displaying the dwindling time they had left before all hope was lost.
Behind her, Marcus Holt gripped his handgun tightly, his knuckles white against the dark metal. The tension in his body was palpable, his nerves on edge as he scanned the darkness for any sign of movement. The dim, flickering lights played tricks on his eyes, making every shadow seem like a lurking threat.
"We need to move faster," Paul muttered, his voice tight with urgency. He paused at an intersection, quickly assessing the paths before them. The map in his mind was fuzzy, the countless twists and turns of the Hive's maintenance tunnels blending into a confusing maze. "This way," he decided, veering left.
Dr. Cooper followed without hesitation, her mind racing with calculations. The system reset was their last chance to regain control, but the risks were staggering. The Hive was a living nightmare, each corner potentially hiding infected workers or worse—those things that defied explanation, twisted abominations born from the virus she had unknowingly helped to create.
Marcus lagged a step behind, the weight of his inexperience pressing down on him. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to run in the opposite direction, but there was no escape. Not for any of them. His radio crackled faintly, static filling the air, a haunting reminder of the communications they had lost.
A low rumble echoed through the tunnel, the ground vibrating beneath their feet. Dr. Cooper shot a glance at Paul, her eyes wide with alarm. "What was that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Paul didn't answer, his jaw set in a grim line. He knew what it was—the distant sound of destruction, of systems failing, of the Hive collapsing in on itself. They were running out of time, and the realization only made him move faster.
The narrow tunnel opened up into a slightly wider corridor, the air thick with the scent of oil and decay. Paul's flashlight swept across the walls, catching glimpses of exposed pipes and broken equipment. He adjusted the wrench on his tool belt, ready for anything that might come their way.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the tunnel, but not their own. It was distant but unmistakable, the shuffling gait of something that should have been long dead. Marcus froze, his grip tightening on his gun, the safety already off.
Paul shot him a look, his eyes narrowing. "Keep moving," he hissed, urgency lacing his words. "We're almost there."
But the tension had escalated, fear creeping into the corners of their minds. Every step was a gamble, the tunnel ahead a dark unknown. Dr. Cooper felt her heartbeat in her throat, her pulse racing as they pressed on, the distant noise of the outbreak growing louder, closer.
In the back of her mind, a thought flickered—what if they didn't make it? What if this was the end?
But there was no time for doubt. Only time to keep running, deeper into the darkness, toward a fate that none of them could predict.
---
Paul Simmons' heartbeat pounded in his ears as the reset station came into view—a cramped, dimly lit alcove that offered a fleeting promise of salvation. Dr. Janice Cooper's breath hitched as she caught sight of the control panel— her fingers already tingling with the urgency to reset the system before the countdown ended.
But then came the groans, low and guttural, growing louder with each step. From the shadows emerged a horde of infected workers—once colleagues, now twisted shells of their former selves. Their pallid skin was stretched tight over
decomposing muscles, eyes clouded with death but alight with a terrifying hunger.
"Dr. Cooper, get to the panel!" Paul's voice was a sharp command,
cutting through the rising panic. He shoved Marcus Holt forward, the young security guard's face pale and streaked with sweat. The kid was barely holding it together, his grip on the handgun trembling.
Paul glanced back at the creatures lurching towards them, their bloodied fingers clawing at the air. His hand tightened around the wrench at his side, the cold metal biting into his palm. There was no time to think, only to act.
"Go!" he barked, his eyes locking with Dr. Cooper's for a brief moment-an unspoken
understanding passing between
them.
Without another word, Paul charged at the infected, his wrench swinging with brutal force. The first zombie crumpled under the blow, its skull cracking with a sickening thud. But there were too many of them, and Paul knew it.
Dr. Cooper hesitated for a
heartbeat, her mind screaming to stay, to help. But the stakes were too high. She turned, her feet carrying her and Marcus towards the control panel. The sounds of Paul's struggle-his grunts of exertion, the wet thuds of metal against flesh-echoed down the tunnel, each impact a grim reminder of what was at stake.
But Marcus couldn't do it. He skidded to a stop, eyes wide with terror as he looked back at Paul, who was now surrounded by a sea of decaying hands and gnashing teeth.
"Paul!" Marcus shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. He raised his gun, aiming at the mass of infected that threatened to engulf his friend.
"Damn it, Holt, go!" Paul's voice was raw, filled with a mixture of command and resignation, but Marcus couldn't tear his eyes away. With trembling hands, he opened fire.
The gunshots rang out in rapid succession, echoing off the cold, concrete walls. The first few bullets found their marks, dropping two of the infected, but more surged forward, undeterred.
"Come on, you bastards!" Marcus snarled, his fingers squeezing the trigger until the gun clicked empty. The floor was littered with spent casings, and his heart hammered in his chest as he watched Paul fighting with every ounce of strength he had left.
One infected grabbed Paul's arm, its rotting teeth gnashing inches from his face. Paul swung the wrench again, the heavy tool smashing into the creature's skull, but another grabbed him from behind.
"Paul, get out of there!" Marcus screamed, rushing forward, but Dr. Cooper grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
"He's buying us time," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion but resolute. "We can't let it be for nothing!"
But Marcus wasn't ready to let go. He ripped his arm from Dr. Cooper's grip and charged forward, using the butt of his gun to club one of the infected away from Paul. For a moment, it seemed like they might have a chance.
Then, Paul's wrench slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor as more infected swarmed him. The air was thick with the scent of blood and decay. Paul's eyes met Marcus's one last time, filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow.
"Run, kid," Paul rasped, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of groans and growls. And then, with a final, desperate surge of strength, he shoved Marcus back, sending him stumbling towards Dr. Cooper.
"No!" Marcus screamed, but it was too late. The infected overwhelmed Paul, dragging him down under their weight. His scream was cut short, replaced by the sickening sound of tearing flesh.
Dr. Cooper's heart pounded in her chest as she yanked Marcus away from the carnage, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her security card. The panel beeped, and the screen flickered to life just as the nightmare unfolded behind them.
"We can't let it be for nothing," Dr. Cooper whispered, forcing herself to focus as she pressed the final sequence into the panel.
The reset station was active, but something was terribly wrong.
Marcus stood trembling, his empty gun dangling uselessly by his side. His eyes were fixed on the tunnel, where the last echoes of Paul's struggle faded into silence.
Dr. Cooper swallowed hard, her mind racing against the ticking clock. The infected were closing in, their grotesque forms casting long shadows in the dim light.
"Please work," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the approaching nightmare.
The reset station's dim glow was swallowed by darkness as the last seconds on the timer vanished. Dr. Janice Cooper's breath hitched as she slammed her hand on the reset button. The impact echoed through the cramped room, but the cold, sterile sound of failure answered her desperate attempt. Nothing happened. Her heart pounded in her chest, the silence more terrifying than the alarms that had blared minutes before.
Beside her, Marcus Holt fumbled with his flashlight, its weak beam struggling against the oppressive dark. His face was a mask of dread, a reflection of the gravity of their situation. "Did… did it work?" His voice trembled, betraying the thin veneer of hope he clung to.
Dr. Cooper's eyes flicked to the darkened monitors, each one going black as the power drained from the system. She knew the truth, even before the Red Queen's voice sliced through the silence.
"Containment complete."
The words, delivered in the AI's emotionless tone, sent a chill down her spine. It was over. The Hive's fate was sealed, and with it, the lives of everyone trapped inside. Her hands, trembling with the weight of what had just happened, slowly fell away from the console. The cold metal beneath her fingers seemed to mock her, a reminder of the failure that would haunt her forever.
The emergency lights flickered one last time, casting the room in a sickly yellow hue before dying completely. In that brief moment, Dr. Cooper saw Marcus's wide eyes staring back at her, filled with unspoken fears and the realization of their imminent doom. They were alone now, trapped in the bowels of the Hive with no way out and no chance of redemption.
Tears welled up in Dr. Cooper's eyes, blurring her vision as the darkness closed in around them. The weight of the lives lost and the horrors unleashed crushed her. She had been part of this, unwittingly complicit in the creation of the nightmare that now stalked the corridors of the Hive. And now, it was all spiraling out of control, far beyond anything she could have imagined.
Her voice broke the silence, a whisper filled with despair. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
But her apology fell into the void, unheard by the souls who would soon perish. The last glimmer of light from the emergency exit sign flickered and died, leaving them in pitch-black darkness. The Hive's final breaths echoed in the distance, a haunting reminder of the life that once thrived here, now extinguished by human hubris and the relentless march of the virus.
As the reality of their situation settled in, the air grew heavy with the scent of decay, the distant groans of the infected growing closer. Dr. Cooper knew they were running out of time. Their only option was to move, to find some semblance of safety, even if it was just delaying the inevitable.
"Marcus," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "We have to go."
Her words hung in the air, the only direction left to them as they faced the unknown horrors lurking in the dark.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Vivid_Horizons
Vivid_Horizons "If you enjoyed this story, please add it to your library. If not, thank you for reading! Your comments and suggestions for future changes are welcome!"
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