Special thanks to nikki-kun05 for once again being my Beta Reader and for the very positive feedback. Thank you very much.
Also, thank you those of you who took the time to review and share your thoughts on the story, as well as those of you who are taking the time to read this.
-X-
CODY
10:03 A.M.
FACILITY ENTRANCE
-X-
I know I should be happy.
I mean, come on! I'm on Gwen's team! And I've already told myself that no matter what happens, she's winning the money if we find it. I'm going to make sure of that.
But… I know she doesn't want me on her team.
I could tell by her reaction the second my name was called.
Thankfully, Noah was there to cheer me up. Though he isn't very nice to others, he's still nice to me, and I'm thankful for that. The guy's helped me time and time again whenever I felt like crap about… well… how I treated Gwen on the island.
God, I was so stupid…
But that's going to change! I'm going to change! Even if she doesn't see me in the same light, I'm going to change so I never get hurt like that again on my own account.
That's right. I don't blame Gwen for rejecting me—she had every right to.
I blame myself.
But like I said, Noah helped me through those times, and he still continues to do so, just like he did this morning. And I'm very thankful for that.
Anyway, enough about my troubles—let's get back to real time. The teams are now choosing who to stay behind. Apparently, one person has to give up their million dollar dream to open the door for the others in their team.
Nice move, Chris. Who'd have thought the backstabbing would start so soon?
The three other teams had already chosen their poor sap. Now it's my team's turn.
I wonder how we're going to choose.
Hell, I wonder WHO we're going to choose…
"I think Cody should."
…Ow… That hurt…
That really fucking hurt…
"Why not Izzy?" Noah quickly asks, and I begin to wonder if it was on my behalf.
"Because Izzy wants to explore the cool underground lair! It's one of her life-long dreams!"
"…Ugh… Alright, fine! …Trent, you stay."
For some reason, I have no problem with that.
"What?!" But they do.
Man, this isn't going to be easy, is it?
You know what? Fuck it. If they want me to stay behind, fine! It's not like I wanted the million dollars anyway. I already decided to help Gwen win it…
But before I can say anything, Ezekiel walks over to us. "Hey, I doon't really want to participate in this challenge, eh. How aboot I stay behind for you guys?"
"…Wow, you'd do that?" I ask, surprised at his generosity, and he nods.
"Aww… Zekey so sweet," Izzy purrs. "Alright, let's do that then."
"Thanks, man," I say, offering him a high five, but he misinterprets it for a wave and waves at me. Heh heh… Maybe when this is over I can teach him a thing or two about social life… not that I'm the best tutor in that subject, but I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture.
"Alright, ready?" Trent asks the group once Ezekiel found the switch, and we all nod. "Great. Let's go."
And we enter the now open doorway in front of us…
-X-
10:10 A.M.
TEAM TWO HALLWAY
-X-
Izzy and I seem to be the only ones interested in the surrounding area, as the others continue to stare straight forward with only the million dollars on their minds. Really, this place is absolutely phenomenal! A building built underground, looking like a normal building on the inside. The hallway reminds me of a school's hallway, only much less organized: the overhead lights are flickering, the lockers are almost completely covered with rust, and the fire extinguishers are lying haphazardly on the floor instead of hanging on the wall where they should be.
I stop in front of two large paintings that triggered my curiosity. The men in the paintings look as though they are two different men—one was a young man with long, flowing black hair and some sort of robe (or maybe a dress… I couldn't tell), the other was an old man with short gray hair and a suit—but when I read the plaque in between the two paintings I realize they are actually the same guy.
DR. JAMES MARCUS
FIRST DIRECTOR OF UMBRELLA
DISCIPLINE, OBEDIENCE, UNITY
I'm not sure what the last three words have to do with the plaque, but I don't really want to find out, either…
"Cody, hurry up!" I hear Gwen shout. "If I lose to Heather because of you…"
"Coming! Coming!" She doesn't have to finish that sentence. I already have a good idea on what would happen to me… And it's not pretty…
We finally reach a set of double doors. As it is surprisingly the only door in the hallway, we decide to enter through it.
(The door opens slowly, creaking softly.)
We're in a small room. Nothing major here, other than all these random papers and books piled everywhere. Another door is seen at the other end of the room.
Trent goes over to open it, but it's locked. "Great… Now what?"
"Well, Chris probably wouldn't just leave us hanging like this," Noah says matter-of-factly. "There's probably a key somewhere in this room."
My eyes widen. "You mean we have to look through all this crap?"
"I'm on it!" Izzy shouts and she almost literally dives through the piles of papers and God knows what else is littering the floor. Trent and I try to help her look for the key, but she insists on searching for it herself.
It takes about ten minutes, but Izzy emerges victorious. "Ha-HA! Here is our prize!"
"I'd prefer the million dollars," Gwen says with her amazing wit, as usual, and I can't help but chuckle.
Izzy gives Trent the key and Trent unlocks the door. "Alright, we're good to go." We enter through it.
(The door opens slowly, creaking softly.)
We are greeted by a body on the floor.
"Ugh!"
"Gross!"
"Cool!" This last quote is from Izzy.
"Damn interns sleeping on the job," Noah remarks.
"…I don't think he's sleeping," Gwen says in a scared tone. Oh, God… I want to comfort her… but I can't. She wouldn't let me, and neither will Trent. But Trent gets to comfort her, and he does so.
Trent… You're one lucky son of a gun, you know that? I hope you do.
"Come on," Trent says. "I don't know what happened to this guy, but we need to kee—"
Uuuuuuuooooooooooooouuuuuuu…
…What was that?!
I look down again at the body on the floor, and gasp.
Did… Did that thing just… move?!
"Um, guys?" I gulp, pointing down at the once dead, now moving body.
Everyone looks down…
…and screams.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The body slowly sits up, and we run to the door on the other side of the room, unaware of the fact that it could actually be locked.
"OPEN THE DOOR!! OPEN THE DOOR!!"
Trent quickly opens the door. Thankfully, it's already unlocked.
(The door opens and shuts quickly.)
"What the fuck was that thing?!" Gwen shouts amidst the group's long, heavy breaths, and everyone else is too afraid to answer… except Izzy.
"I think that was a zombie."
"NO SHIT, EINSTEIN!!"
"So… Harold was right all along?" Trent asks, once again pointing out the obvious.
"Dammit! We should've run the other way!" Noah groans, his hands now gripping his head. "Now we're stuck in this damn building with THAT thing!"
…Damn, that would've been a lot smarter, huh?
Gwen sighs. "Well, I guess we'll just have to keep going…"
What?! "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" I try to reason with her. "Don't tell me you still want to win the money, Gwen! We need to find another way out of this place!"
"Gee, you think?" she says back. "That's my plan, genius! I'm looking for the freaking exit here!"
"…Oh…" I feel like crap again. "…Sorry, Gwen… It's just… What… What if we don't make it out of here?"
"Cody, don't talk like that."
"But…"
"Cody," she interrupts in a softer tone, and I strangely find myself calming down a little, "from what I had seen over those first few weeks on Total Drama Island, you are one of the most optimistic people I've ever met, and one of the most ambitious. Please, for the sake of all the realists and one psycho here, keep with that mentality, okay? 'Cause if you don't think we'll make it out of here, neither of us will think it." She pats my shoulder, which causes me to blush slightly. I nod to show her I understand and that I'll try to stay optimistic, and she smiles at me. "Good. Now come on. Let's find another way out of this place before we run into any more of those things."
I smile back. "Okay. So, where do we go from here?"
She looks around, and so do I. As I search the area, my eyes happen to fall on Trent for a moment, who seems to be giving me a wary look for some reason. But I'm sure I'm just imagining it.
The area we're in is rather large (well, more long than large, I guess…), and there weren't many other doors, but the ones we tried were all locked.
Until…
"Hey!" I shout to my team. "This door's open!"
The group gathers around as I open the door, hoping a zombie or some other creature isn't on the other end of it.
(The door opens slowly, creaking softly.)
There is no one inside.
Phew! Good…
The room is a small office. Papers litter the desk. A lone typewriter sits nearby, with some ink ribbon next to it. A magazine lay on the chair. Other than these things, there isn't anything special about this room.
Noah looks over at the magazine and checks the date. "…This is recent… Very recent… It must be one of the interns' magazines." He skims through the magazine… and gasps.
"What? What is it?" I ask, worried.
"…Oh my God…"
"What?! What?!"
"…OH MY GOD!!!"
"WHAT?!"
"OH MY GOD, IT'S THE SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE!! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!"
I panic. Any trace of my good mood from Gwen's talk was now gone.
"IT'S HORRIBLE!!!! STEPHANIE MEYER IS CONSIDERED TO BE ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS OF ALL TIME BY THIS IGNORANT MAGAZINE JOURNALIST!!! THE HORROR!!! THE HORROR!!!"
"…You're fucking kidding me, right?"
"We're gonna die down here… This is an omen… The zombies are going to kill us…"
"Noah! Calm down!"
"I CAN'T CALM DOWN!! GOD!! I… I… I need to vent…"
"Just… just relax, Noah. It'll be okay…" I really want to calm him down. He's always been there when I've had problems; now I have to be there for him.
"No… no, man… I need to vent. Cody, do you have your laptop with you?"
"No."
"Damn…" He groans. "I need to type. That's how I usually vent…"
I glance toward the typewriter. "Why not use that?"
Noah looks at the typewriter, and then looks at me. "Me, use that primitive machine? Pfft! As if…"
"Well, you need to vent, right?"
"Pfft! Whatever…" He looks at the typewriter again. "…Well, it's not like I'm saving whatever I type anyway. I'm just doing it to relieve the stress…"
"That's the spirit," I jokingly cheer.
"…Alright, I'm not going to lie… This will take a while, so take a good… half hour breather, okay guys?" he tells us, and we agree to it. "Good, because I've just had some pretty traumatizing shit happen to me right now…"
"We should be safe here for a while anyway," Trent says, and I concur with him. Zombies aren't that smart. They don't even know how to open doors.
At least that's what I've read anyway.
…And I hope to God that that's right…
With that, Noah uses the ink ribbon and begins to type…