The Sludge: Part 3
Abigail had been thrust roughly into the helicopter as the rest of the small group jumped in. One of the armed men buckled her into place and pulled the strap extremely tight. Abigail winced, and the man sat down and kept his rifle pointed in her direction. The helicopter rose into the night sky, Abigail gazing at the dark forest below as it began to blur.
It was not a long flight, but Abigail had found she had drifted off. Perhaps she had been hoping that she would awaken from the nightmare, but it was not to be.
The helicopter landed in a vast industrial area. The whole complex was alive with lights and sounds of machinery and automation. Giant buildings surrounded the landscape, filling up the horizon in every direction. Steam, vapor, and the smell of burning plastic filled the air. Abigail had composed herself as much as possible, and was back into research mode. She tried to take in everything she saw as quickly as she could as she was lead off the helicopter and into one of the buildings near the helipad.
The interior of the building was very high tech and yet very bland. Steel gray walls towered up to the rafters, and metal walkways spider-webbed around the entirety of the building. Some were bridges from office to office, others were platforms leading over giant vats of yellow liquid that bubbled and swirled as technicians took readings nearby. Abigail was being escorted along a high metal walkway, their entrance from the helipad put them several floors above ground level.
Abigail took one last look around the facility as they pulled her into an office space that jutted out from a high spot on the building's wall. The armed man forced her to come to a stand still in from of the blonde woman, who once again looked Abigail over head to toe. The woman reached out and tore the hazmat headgear off of Abigail, and took a small step closer, now just inches from Abigail's face.
"Welcome to Cell Breach; the modern day leader in bio-tech, bio-warfare, and the best nightmares one can buy." The woman smiled as the armed men in the room chuckled. Abigail spit into the woman's face. The sounds of rifles being raised and readied filled the room, but the woman held up her hand as she wiped the saliva from her face.
"I will enjoy breaking you, my dear." She said softly. Abigail returned a look of disgust, but the woman began pacing the room, as if preparing for a lecture.
"You have two choices. An opportunity to, in the way you best see fit, serve our cause now. We cannot let you leave. Your fate would simply be that of your now deceased co-workers. But, you see, you specifically, Ms. Graves, have some qualifications we can use." The woman paused for a moment to drink in the shocked look Abigail had on her face.
How does she know who I am? Abigail thought. The woman continued.
"Yes, Ms. Graves, we know all about you, you and what was once your team. An unfortunate end for them, really. It was all that damn nosey trucker who made the original call. If it is any condolence, he died earlier tonight as well." The woman acted as if another death would be any solace to Abigail. Abigail's shock had cascaded into disgust, but the woman just continued on as she sat down behind her desk.
"You have worked extensively with toxic material, both organic and synthetic. Your degree in microbiology is highly attractive here. We will have you work on Project Flood Gates, which you have now seen in action." The woman began nonchalantly to flip through her paperwork.
"You can't keep me here! This is kidnapping! You’re a murderer! The police will find out what has happened, what will..." Abigail's tirade was cut short by the woman's laughter behind the desk. She leaned back in her chair, and guffawed as she reached for a remote and turned on a monitor mounted in a high corner of the room.
The screen's glow formed into the scenes of the local news, with a helicopter view of the peninsula, the explosion site in clear view. The broadcaster's voice cut deep into Abigail with every word.
"...terrible tragedy, as an entire team of EPA agents perished tonight from an accidental discharge of a toxic tank in transport. The team was extracting a toxic tank that had been dumped here just a few miles from Morgan's Cove, sources tell us...."
The monitor went black once more.
"Do you think your team was the first to find one of our dirty little secrets? Honey, you’re just lucky to be alive right now, think on that." The woman said.
Abigail stared at the blank screen, tears pooling in her eyes. She slowly turned back to the desk as the woman looked back up at her.
"If I refuse, what then?" Abigail asked. The woman snorted and leaned back in her chair.
"If you refuse, we can still use you. Though it would be as a test subject. You'll end up looking like the thing you found earlier tonight. Maybe better, maybe worse. It’s a work in progress, and that's why you've been brought here. Your choice now is, do you work with us, and on that sludge, or do you choose to become it?" The woman stood as she spoke, and her hard eyes penetrated Abigail to her core.
"I'll work." Abigail hated how easy it was for those two words to come out, but she knew it was her only real chance. Stay alive, and maybe there was some way to get out of this trap. she knew her odds, but she would not lay over and die. The blonde woman smiled sincerely and sat down.
"Good. Take her to get cleaned up and show her to the lab. Welcome to Cell Breach, Abigail. My name is Bridget Horn, and I’m the top bitch here. Play nice, or you will pay the price." Bridget then picked up the phone on her desk and gestured to the armed men. They pulled Abigail from the room, and Bridget waited until she had left to connect the call.
The phone rang twice, and then a scratchy voice answered on the other end.
"Unit Six. Here." The voice said.
"Have you contained him? Or is he still parading around the sewers?" Bridget snapped.
"He moved quicker than expected. I think he got some energy from the kill. He's nearly into the suburban grid by our tracking, and we are trying to get ahead of him, but its touch and go." The voice crackled.
"Damn. I'll send crews down to cover any incidents. Get him, and get him quick. This night has already been inconvenient enough." She did not wait for a reply, and slammed the phone back on the receiver. Bridget stood up and surveyed the operations from her office window before eyeing Abigail as she was lead along one of the metal walkways below.
In the suburban grid, a good few miles from the Cell Breach complex, a green sludge pulled itself out of a sewer drain and into a residential street. Pulling itself together in one massive heap, it ungulated and shook as the humanoid form sprouted from the ooze and stood still in the dark street.
Roger Benson looked out his window before he turned out the lights, and saw a silhouette standing just near the edge of his yard. There had been several break-ins all over the neighborhood in the last month, and Roger was damned if he was going to be a victim of theft. He grabbed his loaded rifle and bolted out of the door, the commotion waking up his wife.
"Hey you bastard! Get off my property or I will shoot! I will not ask again!" Roger shouted as he pointed the barrel of the rifle at the unmoving form. It did not react to him, it only remained still in the midnight stillness.
"Roger! Roger! What are you doing?! Get inside!" Roger's wife, Evelyn, had rushed outside, still tying up her bathrobe.
"Get back inside, woman. I'm gonna handle this!" Roger yelled back.
As Roger looked back at the figure, it was now lumbering towards him, each step somewhat unnatural. A sick squishing sound came from the approach, and Roger reacted with gunfire.
Three shots ripped through the figure but it showed no effect. It was then that Roger caught true sight of the horror, as it sped over his lawn, into the dim light of his porch.
The sludge, dripping green slime over its form, thundered into Roger, picking him up as it rushed towards the house and a now terrified Evelyn.
Evelyn darted into the house, but the door frame gave way from the impact of the monster as it crashed into her home. Evelyn had fallen in her retreat, and looked back at the wreckage that was her front door.
The sludge stood, its upper portions twisting and convulsing. Suddenly it sprayed a blast of slimy muck towards Evelyn. Her face was splattered with the green slime, and she quickly wiped her eyes. The sight before her was the mangled skeletal framework of what had once been Roger. The rifle had become twisted within his rib cage, and the barrel was bent slightly.
Evelyn let out a scream and tried to get up and run, but the muck below her feet made escape impossible. She turned back once more to get caught in a tidal wave of green death.
The sludge had taken another life.
STAY TUNED FOR PART FOUR TOMORROW
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