“Yep,” he replied. “I’m a man of my word.”
They shook hands, and then the two of them set off, deep into the bowels of the WICKED complex.
229.10.28 | 11:04 p.m.
“You probably know this place better than I even do,” Thomas said as they made their way around a corner and quietly set off down another long hallway. “With all the sneaking around you guys have done.”
“Yeah, probably,” Newt agreed.
“Well, I think I found a quicker way to get over to the Group B barracks. And less chance of being stopped by security.”
Everything still look good? Thomas asked Teresa in his mind. She was helping out by guiding them through the least likely places to get caught. She’d studied video feeds earlier, and had made it very clear that Thomas would owe her big-time.
Yeah, she replied. Go through that R&D lab I told you about and you should be totally fine. There’s an emergency escape tunnel at the far end that goes right by the barracks.
Got it, he said.
After a few more turns they came to a secured door marked RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT, one of the many to which he’d never been granted access.
It should be open now, Teresa said to him. It was as if she were watching them in real time. And you should be fine on your way back. I’m going to my room and to bed. If someone arrests you or shoots you, too bad. She cut off the connection before he could respond, but not before sending one last little mental image of a kiss on the cheek that she knew would embarrass him.
“Tommy,” Newt whispered. He’d hunkered down next to the R&D door. “Wipe that bloody look off your face and let’s keep moving.”
Thomas ignored him and pushed open the door, then quickly stepped inside the room, motioning for Newt to follow. Once the door was closed, they started to make their way across the lab. It was a large space, full of countertops cluttered with equipment and desks set up with workstations and monitors. The room was filled with glass containers and unusual machinery covered in an assortment of tubing and wires. The walls were hung with tools that looked like they belonged in a torture chamber from the Middle Ages: gleaming silver metal, and lots of it was sharp. Thomas and Newt stayed low as they made their way down the aisle that cut through the middle of the huge room.
“What’re they doing in here?” Newt asked, his whisper sounding like a small explosion in the eerie silence.
Thomas jumped at the sound, then stumbled. Newt tripped over him, and then they were both laughing, legs and arms tangled in a pile on the ground. They were either stressed or starting to crack up.
“Are you sure WICKED knows what they’re doing with you?” Newt joked as they picked themselves up and brushed themselves off. “You seem a little more clown than elite.”
Thomas was searching for something smart to say when his eyes caught an unusual sight. Hidden back in the darkness of the room was a glowing green mass. It was mesmerizing and strange, and he couldn’t look away.
Newt’s smile faltered, then disappeared. “What is it?” he asked, looking in the same direction. There was a misty fog surrounding the lime-green light.
Thomas knew he should walk away, keep moving and find the hidden passage to Group B. But there was no chance of that.
“Let’s check it out,” he whispered, as if he might wake up whatever monster swam in the glowing goo.
Together, he and Newt slowly walked past several desks and workstations, step by step, getting closer to the eerie light. As they approached it, Thomas saw that the glow came from a large green plate of glass, maybe ten feet by ten feet, covering a container that stood chest-high. Wisps of white mist spilled out the edges and curled into the darkness of the room.
Thomas leaned over the glass, its top beaded with drops of water, and looked over at Newt. His friend’s face was illuminated by the green light, and for a moment he looked sick. Thomas shook the thought away.
“We probably shouldn’t mess with this,” Newt said, looking up from the vat. “Looks bloody radioactive to me. We could wake up with three extra fingers and one less eye in the morning.”
Thomas smiled, only half hearing him, looked back at the otherworldly container below, feeling almost hypnotized. Mist churned beneath the surface, swirling in little whirlpools. But there was something underneath that. He could just barely make out a dark outline. He almost felt that if he just kept staring at it, whatever it was would reveal itself.
“Tommy?” Newt said. “Let’s move on, yeah? This thing gives me the creeps.”
Thomas couldn’t move on. He desperately wanted to know—
A lumpy object moved in the container, bumping against the glass with a heavy thump, and Thomas jumped back. The object squeaked along the container’s side for several seconds before vanishing into the fog again. The thing had been tan-colored, with lines like veins running through it. An arm. It had looked like an arm.
Thomas shivered, and the hairs on his neck and arms stood straight up. He looked over at Newt, who met his gaze with one of horror.
“Why are we still standing here?” Newt asked.
“Good question.”
Thomas moved to leave when another lump of flesh pressed up against the glass. It appeared to be the torso of whatever creature was being held in the tank. It too had veins, and something like mucus covered its skin. Thomas had to fight his stomach not to send dinner up his throat.
“Look, Tommy,” Newt said, leaning closer to the glass, pointing. “It has…things growing out of its skin.” He stepped back from the container, shaking his head as he glanced away.