Chapter Twenty. 05:45pm
ROCKET-POWERED NOTHING.
After the torturous elevator ride, during which we discussed what a bastard Nelson was and what the hell those other versions of him were – failed clones, Susan suggested, though Stuart thought they could be experimental, weaponised versions - we stepped into the small waiting room. Stuart grabbed a chair from the corner and placed it between the lift doors, then dusted off his hands, marvelling at a simple job well done. The doors closed but bumped against the chair and slid back open. They repeated this dance over and over and would do indefinitely until someone removed the chair.
"What next?" he asked me, as if I was a font of answers and ideas.
"We go back outside I guess. See what the zombies are up to. Cross your fingers for a visit from the proper authorities. Soldiers and rescue helicopters and maybe a giant food truck of some sort."
"I've always wanted to ride in a helicopter," Stuart said. "Hey, what do you think Nelson's mum meant when she said she only had room for one?"
"No idea," I said. "Just one seat in her escape pod? Or maybe she only had the one giant fridge full of cold snacks, not enough to share. Maybe she plans to toss a saddle on Nelson's back and ride him through the forest, whipping his naked thighs with a branch and screaming 'Onwards, ho!'."
Stuart's face crunched up with a look of disapproval. "Hope not," he scowled.
Susan cracked the door open, pushing down the heavy handle and straining to drag it open an inch. Through the gap she saw a handful of scattered beasts but no sign of the huge bastard who chased us inside in the first place, which she had nicknamed 'Zombeast'. Taking another shot of courage, she opened it enough to push her whole head out. Stuart craned around her, zapping wand prepped and ready to jab at anything that got too close.
"Most of them have wandered off I think. The grounds are pretty big. Even the amount that packed the foyer have the space to spread a bit."
She pulled the door open fully and stepped out, Stuart in tow. I glanced back at the chair, bravely hindering the progress of any clones who dared to follow us.
"Thanks, chair," I said.
I'm an idiot.
-
Emerging under the inky sky felt odd. A touch unreal. The weak sun had relinquished to a granite moon and blustery clouds during our short time spent underground. I hadn't seen the office in this light for a few months; I was typically on my way home by now. When the clock struck five I would march my arse to the shuttle-train with the other mindless plebs, eager for home where I'd sit and sleep until time to come back.
Wind had picked up, not powerful but cold and biting on my skin. It toyed with the branches and remaining leaves of the straggly, Autumn-ravaged bushes.
We kept low and traversed the gravel to the pathetic gardens, aiming for the front of the building, the foyer and the main gate. Our footsteps crunched but attracted no attention from the shuffling rotters as we cut a path through them, giving each one a wide berth. They acted much less interested than before; content to stand in one place rather than chase down a meal.
Then I remembered something.
"Hold up," I whispered, slapping Stuart on the back to get his attention. "There's something I want to try."
We scurried to the fountain, sneaking behind a disinterested zombie like seasoned stealth veterans, and then crouched next to the stagnant, artificial pond. Susan doused me in a confused, scornful frown. I pulled the circular, stone sculpture out and waved it like a golden ticket to a fun-filled fantasy land. Then I slammed it into the empty indent in the fountain's base.
Nothing happened.
It didn't even fit.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Susan asked in a hushed voice.
"I thought it'd open something or...something..."
"Why did you think putting a child's toy medal thing into a hole in a bit of wall would do something? It's half an inch too small for a start!"
"But it matches!" I said, pointing out the rocket on the medallion and the similar rocket in the cherub statue's hand.
She looked at me like she wanted to melt me, drink me and spit me down a drain. I feared a slap and apologised curtly, before trying to explain myself.
"Look," I said, "We've already found a giant underground secret lab full of clones and mad people, an abandoned bathroom full of crazy bugs, a gigantic 'zombeast' that wanted to smush us, and all of the other crazy shit. Is it really that far into the realm of impossibility that a small rocket decoration would make this conspicuously placed fountain shift aside to reveal another secret underground base? Is it? Is it really?"
She looked at me, then at the fountain, then back to me. Then she knocked on the stone wall with a closed fist and said "Yes."
"I see where you're coming from. Sort of..." Stuart said, giving a meek look of support and a shrug. The ridiculous, sad emblem sat loosely in the hole I thought it'd fit snugly into. I quietly blamed my hunger and claimed mild delirium to take the focus off my foolishness. Deep down, I honestly thought it might've worked. Some indefinable feeling in my gut had suggested it would.
I had hoped to find a hidden helipad with the chopper Nelson mentioned, or some other type of transport. Perhaps a key or an card that would access some secret room later in our adventure.
"We're all starving Wes," my female companion said, deftly forgetting about the rocket stone. "It's getting silly. I don't think I've ever been this hungry."
Stuart nodded at the foyer. "Reckon we can make it to the coffee stand place? They have sandwiches and crisps. Beats storming off into the woods on an empty stomach. We can get past the zombies easy enough and I definitely need a food. Several foods, if possible. Or soon my gargling stomach will attract every carnivorous entity in a five mile radius."
The thought of food made me happy enough to weep. I would savour just a few biscuits or a slice of dry bread.
"Let's go for it."
I left the rocket medallion resting, ill-fitting, in the fountain.