Chapter 38

Frankie thought she had experienced complete darkness before, but nothing had prepared her for this. With no electrical items functioning and no windows, the dark of the underground facility was so complete that she really couldn't see her hand in front of her face even after giving her eyes several minutes to adjust. Pushing herself to her feet, she pictured the layout of the facility in her mind. She was on the level below the hangar. If she could make it that far, there had to be an exit on that level. How else would they get the aircraft and vehicles in and out?

The stairs she had come down were on the outer most ring of this level while the server room was inside the inner most. All she had to do was find the spoke corridor and follow it out to the last ring. Then, if she remembered correctly, the entrance to the stairwell was to the left.

She edged around Rory's body, or at least where she remembered his body to be, then reached out with her good hand, groping for the outer wall of this ring. She took two hesitant steps and stepped on something that gave slightly and crunched under her shoe. Frankie's stomach lurched; she had stepped on part of Rory's body. Stepping quickly to get off him, she lurched towards the wall. It was further away than she had imagined, but her hand touched its cool surface after three more steps.

Leaning her head against it she took a deep breath. "Come on. Get it together," she admonished herself. She was never going to get out of her if she freaked out.

The spoke corridor was to the right, so she slid along the wall in that direction, her eyes wide and still trying to see something in the inky blackness, anything. It was strange, but in the dark, every noise seemed to be amplified. She could hear the pings from the piping that ran overhead, doors opening and closing on this level and the one above, footsteps stumbling in the dark, and voices drifting bodiless through the air around her. The quiet was probably amplified by the lack of noise from the ventilation system, she told herself.

She passed three doors before her hand encountered the corner made by the intersection of the ring and spoke corridors. Following the wall around the corner, Frankie started towards the outside ring. As she went, she became more confident and picked up her pace. She passed the second and third ring corridors with no problems. The next ring was the last one on this level, which was the smallest in the facility.

A cough from up ahead froze her in place. She listened intently, trying to determine where the person was and if they were coming towards or going away from her. She heard the soft scuff of a shoe, but that was all. She was torn. Should she announce herself to whoever it was, or should she just slip past them in silence? The person sniffled. They were coming towards her.

"Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone there?"

She waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming.

"Are you hurt?"

Still nothing.

The hairs on her arm stood on end as a chill ran down her back. As quietly as she could, she crossed to the other side of the corridor so that whoever was there wouldn't find her by following her voice. She held still, pressed back against the wall, and waited. Her heart was beating so loudly, she was sure it could be heard down the corridor.

From just a few feet ahead, the person moaned and then Frankie heard them stumble and catch themselves against the wall.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "I just want to help. I'm going to the stairs and then the hangar bay to find a way out. I can take you with me."

There was a rustle of cloth then a hand grabbed her. She shrieked and tried to pull away, but they had a good grip on her shirt and weren't letting go.

"I'm not fooled by your tricks, Jones," a rough voice that she thought she recognized growled.

She kicked, hoping to connect, and was rewarded when her foot impacted muscle and bone and her attacker grunted before letting go. She ran back down the way she came with him screaming obscenities after her. She grunted when she ran into the inner ring wall, biting her lip to keep from crying out when her broken hand hit the wall. Behind her, she could hear him following, but at a slower pace. Stopping herself from turning to the left, she went right several steps, then crouched down to wait.

"I'm going to do everything you did to me, you bitch, when I catch you!" her pursuer raged as he neared the intersection. His breathing was ragged and wheezing as he stumbled into the opening. "Glendaaa…," he called out in a creepy, serial-killer voice, "where aaare yoooou?"

Frankie held still as he paused, trying to figure out where she was. Then she heard him start to shuffle her way. She tensed, ready to spring into action if he got too close. Listening intently as he got closer, she realized her mistake. She was crouched against the same wall he was sliding along. There was no way for him to miss her and if she moved, he would hear it immediately.

"Glendaaa…," he said in a whisper and his clothes rustled against the wall as he took another step. "I know you're there. I can smell you."

Oh, shit! Frankie thought. She had put on cologne this morning after her shower. It had been a gift from Rory. What were the odds that Glenda had the same fragrance? Wait? Was this the floor that evil bitch did all her dirty work? Was this where she had been held and tortured?

Frankie recognized the man's voice finally. It was Jeff Jenkins, the researcher that was 'transferred' after complaining about the leadership of the cell. Now she knew what had happened to him. When the power failed, he had been freed.

She started to call out to him again, when a distant boom shook the floor and wall. Dust and chunks of debris fell from overhead on her.

"Hell is coming for you, Glenda," Jenkins wheezed.

Yeah, no. She wasn't going to reveal herself to him. He was too far gone, and she didn't have the energy to fight him off again.

Her nose started to itch from the dust in the air as another boom, this time louder, rocked the corridor violently. Damnit, she needed to get to the stairs before the explosions destroyed them. First, she had to get away from Jenkins. She had nothing left on her of any use, just her clothes and shoes.

Another shuffle reached her through the darkness. Moving as quietly as possible, she slipped one of her sneakers off and picked it up. From her crouched position and taking into account the curve of the wall, she flung the shoe as far down the corridor as she could. There was a thud as it hit the wall several feet away and then more as it hit the floor.

"Gotcha," Jenkins muttered and lurched towards the noise. Frankie felt him pass by her by inches but remained undetected. She counted to ten then slowly stood. She could still here Jenkins shambling down the corridor, muttering incoherently under his breath.

Another blast shook the corridor and she took advantage of the noise to make a dash for the spoke. Debris crunched under her feet as she went, but the noise of more falling covered it, so she kept going. She was halfway to the outer ring when the dust finally got to her and she sneezed.

Jenkins screamed in rage from the inner ring.

Frankie gave up any pretense of stealth. She ran until she hit the outer wall then went left. She couldn't remember how far down the stairs were from the intersection or how many rooms were between the two. Each door she came to, she felt for the panic bar. One, two, three doors.

"Glenda!"

Four doors.

"I'm going to kill you!" Jenkins had reached the outer ring and was coming her way.

Five doors.

"There's no escape for the wicked," he giggled.

Her hand found the panic bar for the door to the stairwell. Shoving it open, she eased it shut and leaned back against it, hoping Jenkins would continue past. Another blast tore through the facility and there was a crash outside the stairwell in the corridor. This time, the rumbling continued, vibrating the floor under her feet and the door she leaned against. Time was running out.

She pushed away from the door and felt for the stairs, stubbing her bare toes on the bottom step. Going up the stairs slowly, holding on the handrail, she counted each step. After eight, she started feeling for the landing where the stairs made a ninety-degree turn before continuing up. At the tenth step, her foot failed to find another step and the handrail made a turn to the right. Following the rail, she found the next set of steps and climbed them.

At the next landing, she felt for the exit. Putting her hand against it, she was surprised to be able to see it. It was still dark, but she could make out the outline of her hand against the lighter surface. She looked up and could see the one-foot square window. The faint light was coming through it. She choked back a sob and pushed the door open.

It only opened a couple inches before it stopped. Something was blocking it from the other side. Frankie pushed harder and it moved another inch.

"Shit," she muttered.

Below her, the door to the stairwell opened and the insane ramblings of Jenkins drifted up the stairs to her. On the verge of panic, she put her shoulder into the door and put all her weight into it, forcing it open a little more.

"Glendaaa," Jenkins called up to her and she could hear his steps as he mounted the stairs.

With the faint light, she wouldn't be able to hide from him in the gloom. Should she give up on getting into the hangar from here and go up another level?

Backing up a few feet, she threw herself at the door. Whatever was blocking it gave at the assault and Frankie tumbled through it, landing hard on the floor. Ignoring the pain, she jumped to her feet and ran, looking for a place to hide before Jenkins followed.

Only to come up short. Just a few feet from her, Clint stood with his bow drawn.

A guttural growl came from behind her as Jenkins shoved through the door after her. She was caught between the two.

"Down," Clint ordered.

For once, Frankie didn't hesitate. She dropped to the floor as he released his arrow. It flew true and buried deep in Jenkins' chest.

Jenkins looked down at the arrow protruding from him with confusion.

"Wha…."

He didn't get any farther before he toppled forward onto the floor and didn't move.

Frankie started to stand but found she didn't have the energy. Clint slung his bow over his shoulder and came over to help her to her feet.

"You look like shit," he told her.

"I've had a bad day," she replied.

His lips twitched, "come on, let's get you out of here."

He supported her as they picked their way through the chaos of the hangar. SHIELD agents were everywhere, corralling the Hydra workers into groups. Frankie didn't comment as they passed the groups.

"What happened to your shoe?" Clint asked.

"I used it to distract Jenkins."

"Jenkins?"

"The guy you shot."

"Oh."

They walked in silence as they crossed the hangar. At the far end was a huge roll-up door that looked as though it had been peeled open like the lid to a tin of sardines.

"Did the big guy do that?" she asked.

He nodded, "yeah."

On the other side of the destroyed door, there were at least a dozen SHIELD vehicles, including Quinn jets and helicopters. Clint led her over to one of the jets where Dr. Bennet was bandaging an agent. The doctor took one look at her and ushered them into the jet and had her lay down on a cot.

As Clint turned away to go back into the hangar, Frankie reached out and grasped his hand. He stopped and looked down at her.

"Thank you," she said.

He nodded and smiled, "you're going to be alright."

"I know," she answered and closed her eyes.