The elevator finally ground to a halt and the door slid open on rusty wheels. Billy found a large gray switch and flipped it. A series of halogen lights clicked on, revealing an armory set before the group. Enough weapons were found to arm a small army, which the facility housed at one time. Among the weapons, there were also a few holsters and duffle bags.
Leon threw his jacket onto a nearby table and found a strap capable of holding a 16-gauge shotgun on his back. He found the shotgun of his choice slid it through the strap. Jill found a proper holster for her magnum, and her spare bullets. She removed the holster for her Beretta and wrapped it around her upper thigh. She then picked up a fully loaded riot gun. Billy slung the rifle across his shoulder and picked up a customized sub-machine gun, nicknamed the TMP by the guys in his unit. He found a stock for it, and a strap, and flung it over his opposite shoulder.
"Don't you want a shotgun?" Leon asks, throwing his jacket back on.
"Nah," Billy replies. "Got used to using automatic weapons down here. I don't wanna be flung back a few feet by my boomstick, y'know?"
"That's understandable," Jill adds. "I wasn't really all that proficient with a shotgun before we went into that mansion, but when we came out, I got good."
The rest of the time in the armory was spent getting extra ammo for their weapons, and trying to come up with semblance of a plan. They quickly came to a decision to lock the facility down and activate its automatic defenses, and wait out till morning. Easier said than done.
Ashley Graham impatiently drummed her fingers on the armrest in the backseat of the fancy car she was being forced to ride in. This spring break was beginning to wear on her nerves since she thought she'd be at the airport by now, going home to see her father in D.C.
The problem with taking college courses in England, she thought to herself. She looked out the window, seeing nothing but trees and dirt. She didn't know how long she was traveling on this dirt road, but this was starting to get ridiculous.
"Hey buddy!" Ashley yells to the driver. "Where are we going? Unless the nearest airport has been moved into the middle of nowhere, I demand to know where we're going!"
The car suddenly came to a stop, in front of an old farmhouse. The driver simply got out of the car, locked it, and ran down the beaten dirt path ahead. Panicking, Ashley struggled to get her door open.
"Stupid child locks!" she shouted. She rattles the doorknob and bangs on the window. Finding it futile, she climbs into the driver's seat. She hits the unlock button, but nothing seems to happen. "I gotta get outta here!"
Ashley digs through the car, trying to find something to get her out. All she found was a wallet stained with blood that had the ID of the guy that was supposed to drive her to the airport. Horrified, Ashley climbs in the back and huddles against the seat. Then she saw something. A big man dressed in a heavy coat with a thick beard approached the car. Somewhat relieved, Ashley looked to the man with a bright smile that suddenly faded when he ripped the door off its hinges.
"Welcome to Los Pueblos, Miss Graham," the bearded man said with a thick Spanish accent.
The ragtag team decided not to split up again, taking some comfort in having greater numbers. They found the central hub of the facility, a monitoring station that could keep track of everything coming or going. Billy sat down at one of three computer terminals. A login screen popped up.
"Let's see: Kendo, Hank," Billy says, typing the information into the space designated as "username". "Password: 4/Itchy Tasty." Billy hit enter and four panels appeared, outlining different areas of the facility.
"Nice work, 'Hank'," Jill says.
"Thanks," Billy replies.
"So, what possessed you to name yourself after the redneck who ran the Kendo Gun Shop?" Leon asks.
"Chris just needed a name and the Kendo family is so spread out across the country, it's hard to keep track of them all," Billy answers.
"I see," Jill says.
Billy hit a few keys on the keyboard, bringing into view the initial tunnel they traveled down. With a series of keystrokes, the massive door slid closed. With a few more strokes, he managed to get the automatic, wall-mounted guns operational. They came out of the wall and the image shifted to bring them into view.
"These'll keep 'em busy for a while," Billy declares. "Four guns, 250 armor piercing shots each. They fire in three-shot bursts and are accurate enough to pop the top off a beer."
"That's nice, but where do these things aim?" Leon inquires.
"Mainly body shots, but chances are they won't be able to stand up to all that firepower for long," Billy explains.
"I just hope nothing bigger comes with them," Jill says.
"You just had to say it, didn't you?" Leon accuses. "Now, you've done it, Jill. You've jinxed it."
Jill's only response to the accusation is an incoherent stammer.
"Not yet, she hasn't," Billy says. "These things don't like the sun for some reason, so when daybreak happens and they come cramming down our collective throats, that's when we can blame Jill."
"You're seriousness in this matter is quite disturbing," Jill deadpans. "What's next, look for possible survivors?"
"Yeah, okay," Leon and Billy answer.