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Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
It ticks life away
Merchant walked as softly as she could, trying to keep from jumping at every flicker in the dark shadows they passed. The corridors were uniform and endless in their uniformity. Anderson had long since stopped whimpering as the vampire and Woodman carried him slung awkwardly between them, now the loudest sound was his feet as they scraped over the short office carpet, shuddering and dry. There were no bodies, she was thankful for that, but the grey of the flooring was tinged black in long trails as if a victim had been moved for later.
Under her finger the trigger was slick with her sweat, she switched her hold to wipe her hand down on her grimy suit jacket, succeeding only in covering her hand with the drying flakes of Anderson's blood. It made sense for her to take the point and lead and there was a security in not being the last in the line. But being the first wasn't exactly her idea of a picnic either. As they reached the blue emergency lit door to the stairs she looked back, unnerved to see Isaac's too bright eyes staring at her.
"What ... " Her own voice sounded too high pitched, too thready and fearful. She tried again, adding a touch of Woodman's patented growl. " ... What are you looking at?" Better.
In contrast Isaac's reply was carelessly offhand as he manoeuvred Anderson's arm more firmly over his shoulder. "I was wondering what you taste like. You drink a lot of coffee? I could use a kick ... "
A sharp smack up side the head from Woodman silence him, but the unblinking gaze didn't waver, though it did slowly move down a few inches to hover over her jugular, she could nearly feel the weight of it alone pricking the skin.
"Quit it!"
"What?"
"You're staring at my neck
"Oh, yeah, right. Like I don't have better things to do than look at you? Get off the ego train meat bag, your neck's not that great"
"I have a wonderful neck! I moisturise! You wish you had neck this good!"
"Children ..."
The last was from Woodman, looking at the two of them now standing nearly nose-to-nose. What had started as a hissed and quiet exchange had become a full blown yelling contest she realised, as the last of their words echoed away into the darkness.
Drawing back she nodded, subduing her tone and trying to regain mastery over the hysteria that was swimming so close to the surface. "Sorry."
"Apology accepted" Isaac's tone was heavy with smug amusement, she grit her teeth against the retort that her apology had not been for him and felt the anger rushing back to cover the fear once more. With a snarl twisting her lips she carded the door and yanked it open, stepping in and taking a knee to present the smallest target as she traced the gun up and down. Nothing. Just the pale yellow lights glinting off the linoleum covered stairs.
She exhaled and glanced back as she stood. "We're all clear in here, c'mon."
Anderson hadn't regained consciousness yet, but Woodman could feel the pulse in the man's neck fluttering weak and off beat, struggling to show the heart moved still but growing less obvious with every appearance. He couldn't let him die, that was the one thing his mind was clinging to. Stupid, unlikely, a vainer hope than any of those uninjured making it out alive. And still he clung to it, lived for it, and refused just to wait for the end to come ... for a dying man he barely knew.
If they made it out, he'd thank Anderson for that. Hell, if they made it to the second floor, he'd thank him. All the way out to see the dawn and he was sending him a dozen roses once a month for a year.
Merchant was just a vague outline before them, always about ten feet ahead, the gun gripped with more of an assurance than before. It was like she'd reached some kind of Zen calm after entering the stairwell, and he didn't know whether to be worried about that or pleased. Either she was remembering her training, or she was going into shock. Maybe a bit of both. And she was the only one with a loaded gun. Make that two dozen red roses a month for life.
The outline stopped and held up a hand, they were on the third floor and before them the door into the offices there swung off it's hinges, the end of it fading into the pitch black of a complete powerout. Stillness held for a moment until the only sound was the wheezing struggle of each of Anderson's wet sounding breaths.
Step by step they inched past the open door, even Isaac keeping his mouth shut for once. It seemed the darkness was a living thing, just waiting for them to look away before it struck. Down the stairs, trying to ignore the prickling at the back of his neck, just concentrating on that one step more. It was almost a surprise when he ran out of steps and glanced up towards the exit door for the floor they had been aiming for.
Merchant was at the door, gun held negligently over one arm as she tried the swipe card. Once. Twice. A muttered curse and she turned, whispering so quietly it was barely more than a exhale of breath.
"It's not working. We're going to have to go around the other side of the building."
No one spoke. There was nothing to say, except perhaps mention of a rosebush, once a week, as long as he and his offspring did live. They just turned and the stairs up once more gained his attention as he averted eyes to them, letting Merchant brush past into the lead.
Then the child-like singing began, slightly off key but light and sweet. The lyrics he couldn't quite make out, and the tune seemed to skip and jump from one nursery rhyme to the next as it drew closer out of the darkness. So entrancing, so beautiful, so ...
He grabbed at the wall to keep from falling as Isaac dropped his share of the load and began to run back down the stairs away from the voice that suddenly sung a more chilling song.
Humming raggedly under his breath in desperation to try and block out that mind sedating voice, he pulled the dead weight of Anderson into a fireman's carry and staggered at the run up the few remaining steps. Was it his imagination showing a pale hand reaching out of the darkness? Was that a form beginning to take shape? Almost bodily he grabbed the listless Merchant around the waist and lifted, adrenaline giving him the strength to turn follow in Isaac's wake with a load that would have sent him to the floor any other time.
Only laughter followed as he ran, he felt icy fingers tighten around his arm and almost jerked forward before he realised they were Merchant's. He dropped her and they ran on, down the stairs, the door once more in sight. Isaac was before it, both hands planted flat against it and feet braced back.
Over his gasps and the pounding of their feet, he could hear the tortured sound of metal and wood screaming against each other as they were pushed beyond breaking point. With what seemed like one last heave, the vampire threw himself at the metal door. It buckled, and it fell, and the vampire followed it down to sprawl completely still. The stream of light from the white tiled room beyond reflected off his skin making it near translucent, every vein seemed traced in pale red as the skin tightened.
Merchant was through the door first, jumping over Isaac and running to the bank of still flashing lights on the control panel of the small observation room. It seemed too bright, surgical almost. Everything flashed in a blinding way as he lowered Anderson to the floor as gently as he could then turned and dragged Isaac's near weightless form across the thresh-hold.
Running was sounding in the corridor now, fox and hounds; he looked up to see their hunters speeding towards them and roared to Merchant, "Hit it!!"
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Last chapter up soon ... hopefully :)