Then the first one leapt off of the wall at a Gen Y man that had gotten too close. The leap was probably over ten feet, and the beast wiggled and twitched through its jump as if it were still crawling on the wall. At the last second, the man turned and opened fire on the thing, but the bullets did nothing to stop its momentum. Its flattened black head split open like the lid of a horrifically dirty trash can and its mouth literally swallowed the Gen Y man’s face. His body began to spasm instantly and the giant amphibian clung tightly and rode the man to the concrete floor.
The men were all yelling and shouting now. Everyone was firing their weapons at the nearest wall or ceiling or floor. The only one that seemed to have any presence of mind was the man leading the Gen Y team. He strode purposely toward the waiting electric train. When the first of the giant black and yellow bodies got close enough to him on the floor, the man calmly tossed a grenade at the thing. It opened its mouth wide as the payload approached it and seemed to simply let the device continue falling right into its gullet. The man took three more calm measured steps toward the train. The salamander, almost to him at that point, exploded in a splatter of shining black chunks with a spray of liquid and fire behind the man.
He boarded the train as Duncan watched. It was then that Duncan recovered his wits enough to open fire with his own rifle on the creatures heading across the platform in his direction. Like with the Mp5s the Gen Y team had, his bullets seemed to have little effect as well. Then he noticed the spattered remains of the detonated salamander were still twitching across the ruined concrete surface of the platform for a moment.
Ridley and his damned regeneration experiments!
Duncan ceased firing at the beasts, recognizing that he was wasting bullets. Instead, he fired at Gen Y men that were already doomed to a death at the hungry maw of a violent overgrown salamander. He killed three before two of the remaining men on the platform noticed and started firing back at him in his direction. He retreated, back behind the cover of the edge of the tunnel entrance, and he realized he didn’t want to kill any more Gen Y men anyway.
If they’re gone, I’m the next food source for the salamanders!
Instead, he glanced back and watched the last living men on the platform hammering on the walls of the electric train as it began to depart the station toward Duncan’s position. The man that seemed to be their leader showed no concern for the men he had left behind to their dooms. Duncan’s mind was racing and he catalogued the man’s emotionless actions somewhere in the back of his forward cognitive processes. He leapt across the rails to the shadows of the far side of the tunnel before the train passed by him. He rejected the idea of trying to get on the train as it went by—it was already moving too fast, and he still had his HDT. Right now he had to focus on stopping or containing the giant creatures that were steadily advancing on his position and which were now feasting on the last few screaming Gen Y bodies—the matte black of their BDU uniforms jerking and heaving under the shining, undulating, black and yellow skin of the salamanders chewing on them.
Duncan turned back into the tunnel and raced to the bio door. On the far side of the door, deeper inside the darkened tunnel, was a control panel on the wall. Unlike the panels near the exterior doors, this one was still lit. He had noticed it as he had passed it before. It had several features, but the one he liked the best was a large red button with a pin through it like on a fire extinguisher. Duncan pulled the pin out and slapped his palm on the button. The huge white bio door hissed shut on its hydraulics across the whole mouth of the tunnel. The rubber seal scraped into place across both sets of rails on the floor, then inflated, sealing all air transfer between the tunnel and the station. Duncan stepped up to the Plexiglas window and peered through several inches of translucent plastic into the train platform. Two of the huge salamanders had just reached the foot of the door. The last remaining men on the platform no longer moved. Now that the door was closed, opening it would take an act of God or several hours of answering computerized sanity checks.
Containment. Check.
Duncan turned around to head back to his dirt bike and felt his stomach lurch. As if he had vertigo, he watched as the darkened walls, ceiling and floor of the tunnel shifted and shuffled around him. He instantly realized his mistake in sealing the door behind him.
11.
Under Section Dock, Former Manifold Alpha facility White Mountains, NH