Marshall wasn't dead but severely hurt. To have his body forcibly thrown into a wall was not a pleasant experience, and although his bones were held, he couldn't move and suffered from a horrible ache in his body. Zuma and Rocky got to him first with Chase walking behind them, a confused expression on the Shepherd.
Zuma had seen it, Chase freezing up seconds before Rocky was dragged away to a slow death. The Lab acted quickly, coming to his brother's rescue knowing Chase was unreliable. It all but confirmed his suspicions, and while he kept a straight face around Rocky, a deep rage burned within him. It was time to act, to rid of the problem at its source.
While Zuma kept his new mission a secret, Rocky was more of the vocal type.
"What the hell was that?" The mix turned to Chase, an angry yet concerned look on his face begging for answers. He had his paw on Marshall's shoulder like he was trying to subtly show he still cared for the Dalmation, a gesture he didn't understand why he'd need to show. Zuma looked up at Rocky's question, also wanting to hear the answer to this.
"W- what?" Chase stopped, flicking his eyes between his friends, he was still slightly dazed from the odd mental noise that had been following him.
"You almost let me die!" Rocky barked, flattening his ears and bristling his fur, "I needed help and you just stopped moving!"
A faint grin slid onto Zuma's face.
"I- I don't know!" The Shepherd backed up defensively, "I just… something…"
"What?!"
"I was frozen, okay?!"
"Frozen." Rocky said flatly, "you were frozen."
Desperate not to accidentally turn his best friend against him, Chase searched for an explanation, an excuse, anything, "look, that thing has… some kind of hold on me, I don't know how to explain it, but it's getting into my head!"
"You're infected," Zuma breathed in awe, narrowing his eyes.
"What? No!" The officer held up his paw to instantly shut down the Lab's accusation, "Feroxmalis is way beyond that stage, couldn't you see that already?"
Rocky could hardly understand why he was hearing, "so what the hell are you saying?"
"I'm saying that thing has some kind of mental hold on me! It's… screaming in me. It's agonizing, I don't know how to make it go away!" Chase lowered his ears in shame, embarrassed for how vulnerable he was.
Zuma lurked in the back, watching the conversation. He was ready to carry out his plan of action but stopped to see if Rocky was primed to turn on the Shepherd as well. Feroxmalis was just a distraction now, he needed all the help he could get to exterminate the true killer of the Paw Patrol.
Rocky thought long and hard about what he was hearing, looking at the ground for a moment. "I… I've felt it too."
"You have?" Chase looked up in surprise.
Zuma's grin instantly died, now replaced with an expression of annoyance.
"When I went out to check the breakers," the mix recalled, "I encountered that thing and watched it kill a rodent." He shuddered at the memory, "and I felt something, like this… static."
"Yeah that-" the Shepherd stuttered, his tail wagging for the first time in days, "that's it! It made me freeze up, and it… well, it's just difficult to deal with."
"That may be so," Rocky understood, but moved to his friend, "but I really thought you were going to let me die there," he stopped before him, looking at Chase with a stern expression, "I understand what you're going through, and... I'm sorry. But I need you, here and now." He reached his grey paw forward and pressed to Chase's shoulder, a sign of comfort and understanding. "I know you weren't trying to kill me, I know you'd never do that. ... tell me, whenever the static comes back."
It was unnatural to see Rocky take a stand like this. He spoke to Chase like a mentor, despite being his equal for years. The grey mix had gone almost ignored by the rest of the dogs ever since Feroxmalis hatched, and he was simply just always the same, a bystander to the action. While Chase fought against his own mind and Zuma darkened from a coldness within him, Rocky was going through his own changes. He saw exactly what the Paw Patrol was missing in a time like this: someone to keep them all together.
"That creature, it's trying to break us," Rocky flattened his ears as he surveyed the damaged room, "if it cannot kill us, then it will snap our sanity and will." He came to the conclusion as he turned back to Chase, "talk to me, Chase, please. I don't want to lose you, if we don't fight this mental strain it'll plunge us into insanity."
"Heh," Chase chuckled to himself, saddened as he trailed off, "yeah, I know what you mean."
The mix tilted his head, "you do?"
Nearby, Zuma sat with Marshall trying to tend to him. The Dalmation was already beginning to reawaken, with visible strain on his face. The poor firefighter was going through hell with no end in sight, no doubt the most innocent of the team. Marshall was viewed by all in a different way, Chase wanted to protect him, Rocky sought to educate him in the harsh reality of facing death, and Zuma still cared for from despite beginning to see him as somewhat dead weight. As he stood over him, Zuma pricked his ears to eavesdrop on his brothers' conversation.
Trailing his paw along the ground, Chase spoke softly "I feel like I'm... not myself." He gave a pitiful sigh as Rocky tried to comfort him with an arm over his shoulder, "I can't even tell who I am anymore after what I did."
Those last words made Rocky silently stop, hearing the exact implication in the words yet restraining himself enough to not provoke Chase. He knew where this was going, although he still sought to understand the full picture. He wanted to help Chase deep down and bring him back to the Shepherd he once was, all he needed was an answer.
"Chase..." he said simply, punctuating his words with narrowed eyes, "what have you done?"
He didn't want to tell Rocky the truth, he was the last dog he wanted ever knowing of his crimes. Liberty was an exception, an outsider blessed with cursed knowledge never to spill onto the others. A street dog with a mutual relationship was worthy of knowing Chase's terrible mistake, but Rocky was family, even though he had put the Shepherd in a rather compromising position. Zuma had heard it too, and Rocky was all too observant in the turmoil growing between the two of them.
"Zuma, go outside for a moment," Rocky turned back, "we're continuing on that route to escape this basement."
"You-" the Lab stuttered in response, "you mean the hallway Feroxmalis disappeared in? Won't it be there?"
"Just go, give me a moment with Chase."
The Lab merely rolled his eyes with a scowl escaping his muzzle, yet he obediently complied. "It's not very smart to split up in situations like this." He was going to say something snippy when a thought entered his mind, making the coast guard stop and rethink his course of action. He realized right away that splitting up was exactly what he wanted, providing him the opportunity to carry out his own plan.
"Sure," he put on a fake smile, "I'll go brave the death hallways alone." The Lab rolled his eyes and left the room. Entering the dark hallway with the electric door, Zuma scoffed to himself.
"Conspirers, the lot of them," he snuck a look behind him. He approached the electric door, the lever on the wall still pulled down, keeping the path firmly blocked when they trapped Feroxmalis outside. "They don't realize how smart I actually am," the Lab chuckled, "I didn't survive all this shit just to watch the German Shepherd tear apart my family." He reached a paw out and flicked the lever back up. Instantly the door clicked to life, shooting upward and opening the way into the disgusting flesh hallway. He was angry he had to leave, but at the corner of his muzzle, a grin slid up.
No one had yet seen what he did.
Chase and Rocky were within their own problems back in the room. It was all too obvious Chase was hiding something with great difficulty, a secret his friend carefully tried to extract.
"You're going to hate me," Chase said, refusing to look his friend in the eye.
Rocky was unfazed, however, "dude, I could never hate you. You're like my brother, maybe not biologically, but it's close enough." He gently tapped the Shepherd's arm with his paw, "and brothers stick together, no matter what."
"But I," Chase stammered, "I did something really bad."
"Everyone does something bad," Rocky almost laughed, "how are we supposed to go through life if we have nothing to learn from?"
"You make it sound trivial."
"Well I'm not trying to," the mix shrugged, "it's just the truth, what did you do?"
Bristling his fur, Chase stared up at the dog across from him, "you want me to come out and say it? I murdered Skye!" He snapped, sparking the volume of his voice for a split second at the final word. He stared into Rocky's unblinking face, expecting hostility or some kind of horrified realization, but it never came. The same reaction of the mix caught Chase off guard, and his anger settled.
Giving a long sigh, Rocky spilled his own truth. "I know." He said it like he was always waiting to, just never finding the right time. It was never easy to pinpoint the exact moment you were completely aware of the crime your friend had committed.
"What?" Chase blinked, "how?"
"It kinda put it together over time," the mix shrugged, looking to the floor in mild discomfort, "look Chase, the thing is," he winced, knowing the next thing to leave his muzzle would be hard to say, "I... I don't really know what to think right now. I eventually figured out that Skye was clean and her death undeserved,"
Lowering his head in shame, the police officer nodded as a faint whine sounded from him, "I know, and-"
"But." Rocky interrupted him, "I also know what was going on at the time." He said, taking a second to scratch himself with his hind leg, "there was a great... fear going around the terror, and of course, none of us had actually known what Feroxmalis was yet." He tilted his head a little, reaching his point, "what I'm trying to say is... losing Skye was terrible, and I miss her every day. Seeing her shot on the floor was just..." he slowly turned, beginning to walk away, "traumatizing."
He turned his head back to look at Chase, "but in a way... I understand what you were probably thinking at the time. You... wanted to save us, and you were willing to make such a great sacrifice if it meant putting an end to an unseen terror." He sighed, "I guess I'll give you that, but what matters now is that we have each other, and we need to stay together."
Rocky soon left the room, an ashamed Chase behind him carrying Marshall on his shoulders. Even though the mix was willing to forgive the police officer for pulling the trigger on an innocent given the circumstances, he couldn't deny the aching void left in his heart. The two of them walked out through the door looking around the surroundings.
"So uh," Chase blinked, "where'd Zuma go?"
Rocky stretched his neck forward, peering down the dark abyss of the corridor, "not... sure. It's not safe to be down here alone."
"You know, we've been trying to get to Ryder's Garage this whole time, but I have this weird feeling we've been going in circles."
"But we haven't, though."
"Well maybe not literal circles," Chase rolled his eyes, "but the garage wasn't really that far away from the tower, and we've been traveling a ton of distance. We're not really getting anywhere down here."
Taking his words into consideration, Rocky flicked his eyes down the continuing path Liberty had vanished down, "I guess it does kinda feel that way. What, you think Feroxmalis has been somehow expanding out the basement?"
"That creature is a fucking rollercoaster of surprises."
"Hey, language," came a voice from up top, taking both dogs off guard and snapping their heads to the side in shock.
Marshall suddenly lifted his head up, confused as to why he was on Chase's shoulders, "why are you carrying me?"
"Marshall!" Chase said in alarm, quickly letting the Dalmation down pure joy flooding his voice, "you're alive!"
The Dalmation awkwardly stuck his front paws out, trying to climb stand, "yeah I am, just in a crapload of pain."
"I'm glad to see you okay," Rocky wagged his tail, "we just need to call Zuma and find Liberty, she isn't wearing one of our radio collars."
"Zuma scares me," Marshall confessed, as he shook his daze out of his fur, "he's been talking weird all day, can I just stay with you?"
"Okay here's a better idea," the Shepherd suddenly looked behind him, now looking uncomfortable, "why don't we get somewhere safe and talk there? I'd rather Feroxmalis doesn't find us first."
Nodding eagerly, Marshall was happy to finally be with the two dogs he cared about. As they began moving, trekking down the continued path, an odd smell hit his little black nose. The Dalmation almost instantly stopped walking, narrowing his eyes and looking around in confusion, although neither Chase nor Rocky noticed this. As a firefighter, Marshall was highly trained in identifying certain smells that could imply danger was nearby, especially the stench of smoke. He could detect smoke from nearly twice as far as Chase, a skill he loved to brag about whenever he could.
Marshall wasn't smelling any smoke, but there was indeed a foreign smell that was suddenly invading his nose. The hallway alone had a metallic, bloody, fleshy stench to it, a smell that they had already gotten used to. This new smell was almost sweet, yet reeked of chemicals, like the smell of hand sanitizer. It was too faint for Marshall to identify it, but he could tell right away that it was coming from the ceiling. Looking up at the roof, he couldn't see anything too different from the usual gore mess that had infected the lower floors. Shrugging to himself, Marshall carried on after his two friends.
They continued silently for roughly fifteen minutes, each dog walking in silence. It wasn't until something caught Chase's eye that they stopped moving.
"These eggs look different," he said, half to himself, turning his attention to some scattered fleshy capsules placed along the fleshy wall. Rocky and Marshall stopped moving, watching their friend's movement.
The mix shrugged off the comment, "well, not every animal hatches identical to one another."
Taking careful steps, Chase cautiously approached the eggs, taking a close look at them while Rocky rolled his eyes. Marshall was going to say something when the odd smell suddenly hit him again, prompting him to look up at the ceiling again. The smell was slightly clearer, bearing a resemblance to metallic rotten eggs. He figured it was just the stench of the biomass he was smelling, but his gut told him it wasn't the case. The smell was so familiar to him, yet he still found himself unable to place it.
"These are bigger," Chase continued, nudging a rather large egg, "nearly twice the size of the first ones we saw."
"They must be older," Rocky put a paw to his chin, "maybe we're getting near the center hivemind."
"What's there?"
"That..." the word hung in the air as Rocky tried to put his sentence together, "is probably the earliest part of the basement Feroxmalis entered, assuming it snuck it in through the garage..."
"Wait, we're near the garage?" The Shepherd jolted, "you mean we're almost out of this hell?"
"Probably," Rocky shrugged, "but we haven't found Liberty or Zuma, we can't leave them behind."
Marshall's voice came up from behind, "does anyone smell that?" The gentle sniffing of his nose was barely heard over his uneased breathing.
Looking back at him, Chase tilted his head. "smell what? The putrid death we're surrounded by?"
"No, it's something else," the Dalmation shook his head, irritated he wasn't able to instantly place the stench. He was worried the other two wouldn't take him seriously as he had a history of being the innocent puppy of the team, even more so than Rubble. Walking forward a little, pushing in between his brothers, he kept his nose in the air, following the smell.
"I don't smell anything," Rocky tried sniffing the air.
He was angry he couldn't place it before, but slowly his mind turned. The stench had grown stronger, a rich, sickly sweet smell leeching into his nose. It was almost like a chemical, a liquid that was trailing along the ceiling. It was odd why the other two couldn't smell it, and Marshall wondered if it had to do with himself. If only he could smell it, it could only be explained by something unique in his ability.
"I'm a firefighter," he muttered to himself, making Chase narrow his eyes. The smell was something related to firefighting, Marshall would've smelled it on the job, or come across it sometime earlier.
"Marshall, we're wasting time!" Rocky said, annoyance in his voice, "Feroxmalis could be anywhere!"
The Dalmation held up his paw, "no, give me a second," it was on the tip of his tongue, he was so close. Narrowing his eyes, Marshall went through every memory he could of his missions, fighting fires and jumping into buildings, he retraced through his old training, all searching for a link in the stench. A rotten egg-like smell yet sweet in its nature, a spiky blend of pungent chemicals that ached the nose. It finally hit him, and Marshall spiked his fur in alarm.
Gasoline.
"Gas," he said in surprise, quickly turning back to the others, "there's gasoline coming from the ceiling!"
"What...?" Rocky blinked, confused.
"Brilliant observation, Marshall," Zuma's voice came through on his collar, cold and emotionless, "I thought you would've noticed that sooner."
"Zuma, where the hell are you?" Chase flicked on his own collar and spoke into it.
"That's none of your concern," the Lab replied back with a static growl.
Marshall desired his own answers, "why is there gasoline in the ceiling? Where'd it come from?"
"It's called a sprinkler system, Marshall," Zuma said matter-of-factly, "I found the sprinkler control, all I had to do was flood the pipes with gasoline and trip the systems."
"You what?!" Rocky drew back in alarm, "where did you get gasoline from?!"
"Are you blind? We've been passing by tons of fuel canisters ever since we came down here. Unlike you, I actually had the plan to rig the sprinkler systems with the flammable fuel. Although, in most areas of the basement the infectious biomass has grown over the sprinklers. I'm sure eventually it'll start leaking through, now I need now is a spark."
Sure enough, Marshall turned his head up at the ceiling to see a dark stain forming on the living sludge. The gasoline being poured in from the sprinkler was blocked but was starting to leak through and drip into the hallway. As they spoke, gasoline was being showered in every room of the basement, turning the entire floor into a tinderbox mere moments from the ignition.
"Are you crazy?!" Rocky shouted into his collar, "are you trying to burn down the tower?!"
"Yes, actually," Zuma piped up a little, "you're supposed to be the smart one, Rocky, I don't know why you didn't see this sooner." The Lab sighed into his collar as he walked, "but all I've seen out of you is bad decisions. You heard what Chase said, you heard what he did to Skye."
Chase visibly paled as he began stepping back, realizing that Zuma was fully aware of Skye's murder. The Lab had officially broadcasted it to every dog with a radio collar to listen in, and he wasn't finished.
"How did you even hear our conversation?!" Rocky demanded, confusion and hurt in his voice, "our collars were off!"
"Not Marshalls."
As if on command, the Dalmation froze, staring in shock as his eyes widened.
"I knew you and Chase wanted me to leave," the vicious Lab said coldly, "I knew you wanted to share secrets, and you know how much I hate being left out. So before you told me to leave, I clicked Marshall's collar on, and I listened in to every single thing you said." He let a laugh escape him, amused at how he got on over on the team, "I don't understand you, Rocky, you were supposed to be my friend. Why are giving Chase a second chance?"
"I-" the mix stuttered, trying to get a word as he cycled panicked looks to the two other dogs. He tried to form an answer, but he was overcome with confusion and could only ask more questions, "Zuma, what are you doing?!"
"I'm doing what none of you have the gall to pull off." The Lab snarled, "I'm burning this entire shithole to the ground, it's the fastest way to get rid of all this infection down here and Feorxmalis itself. Its weakness is fire, I saw it, and it knows too. I suggest you three meet me in Ryder's garage."
"The garage?" Chase spoke up, "you made it there?"
"It's at the end of the corridor, believe it or not. I have Liberty here. She's shaken, possibly must've had a run-in with the creature."
"Is she okay?"
"Relatively,"
` "Alright, good enough for me," Rocky turned back to the other two, "let's get moving, we'll be out of here yet." Marshall visibly sighed in relief, thankful the nightmare was about to be over. With a faint smile, he looked to Chase, although his gesture was ignored. The whole situation was setting off red flags in the Shepherd's mind, something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what. His thoughts were evident on his face, as he scanned his eyes along the ground like he was flicking through his thoughts and memories.
Oblivious to the unease in the air, Rocky pushed the team along in the final stretch of the hellbound basement. Much to their glee, the hallway twisted in a veering turn into a final door finally came into view. Slowly the floor began to emerge from underneath, its old metal surface finally reappearing from the smothering layer of flesh. It was refreshing to see the infection coming to an end, an energizing feeling to finally set a paw down on a solid floor. Approaching the door, an old layer of weathered wood with flacks of blue paint, Rocky put his paw up against it and nudged it open. Chase stood behind him, a pulling weariness in his heart telling him to stay back. The direct opposite was Marshall, almost bouncing in anticipation to escape Feroxmalis's liar and standing right beside his grey brother.
"Zuma?" Rocky asked, pushing open the door, "are you- ugh," he quickly pulled his face back, twisting his nose as the pungent stench of gasoline flooded his nose. The door opened into a clean room of electric equipment, although most of them were webbed with dust from years of misuse. The air was assumed to be clean if the constant presence of gas wasn't infecting it. The sprinkler fastened to the ceiling had been activated, but instead of water, a steady shower of amber-colored gasoline was flooding out. Since there was nothing obscuring the device, it was free to fully rain into the room.
A dangerous puddle of flammable fuel was forming at a quick rate, "okay don't step in that," Rocky side-stepped into the room, following along the wall to circle the hazard and make it to the end of the room where a door stood, "and try not to get any of that on your fur."
"No shit," Chase quipped, "he's really flooding this place, we can't stop it now!" The Shepherd expressed visible frustration, looking toward Marshall for support, but the Dalmation didn't respond. It was distressing to see his home seconds from being incinerated, "no wonder he went behind our backs."
As the three of the gathering at the end of the room, they opened the final door and came to a familiar sight.
Zuma turned around, "oh, there you are."
The pups had never actually been in Ryder's garage before. They had seen several glimpses of it during their dispatch, but access into this room was really only granted to Ryder alone. The room was exactly how they had imagined it, a simple dusty garage with an open floor where the AV was supposed to sit. The side walls were lined with metal shelves hastily constructed together, carrying sloppily organized tools. Immediately, Rocky rushed over to the shelves to look for the Dialectic Driver, the one tool he needed to restore power in the upper portion of the tower.
The most interesting thing in the room to Marshall was the garage door itself. All that stood between them and freedom was a simple door of metal sheets strung along a ceiling chain. They just needed to open it, and they were free to escape to the outside.
"How does this door open?" Marshall ran over to put, instantly putting his paws up on the barrier, "is there a switch, a passcode? Or maybe we can break through it somehow?"
"Cool your jets, firefighter," Liberty suddenly appeared from the other side of the room, her fur ruffled, "Ryder likely kept a remote somewhere."
Walking into the room, Chase happily breathed in the fresh air that was coming from the outside. Fear was on his mind, remembering that Zuma had heard everything he discussed with Rocky. Eager to bury the hatchets, he approached the Lab, "uh, Zuma," he said awkwardly, "listen, about what you heard-"
"Not now," the Lab waved him off, turning around to face him, "let's finish up here and get somewhere safe," he suddenly spiked up his fur, baring his teeth, "then we can talk about your past actions."
Nodding, Chase frantically tried to save their friendship, "so... what's next?"
"Just one last thing. We need to see the door you just came in from, it's the only way into the basement from out here."
Chase tilted his head, "there's no other way Feroxmalis can get out?"
"If the elevator is offline, then yeah." Zuma thought for a second, "but there are those vents we found from the outside, theoretically it could use those, but assuming it's still around here it would have to travel a long distance to get back." He darkened, tapping his paw, "I don't plan to give it another second."
"Then let's do it," the Shepherd was eager to finally secure the monster once and for all.
Executing the final stage of his plan, Zuma walked over to the door leading to the basement. Using the tools and material he found on the shelves, he hastily created some crude locks that just needed to be installed onto the door. They were simple in design, built to magnetically seal the door to the wall and bar it from being opened. "I just need you to hold the door."
"Yeah, yeah," Chase sighed and went over, approaching the entrance.
Something was wrong. With all the years Chase had spent on the force, he had become adept at catching certain cues from his surroundings. Being able to identify when trouble was afoot without anyone needing to speak a word was a difficult ability to learn, but it had served him well. For a moment he kicked himself for never being able to sense Feroxmalis's presence within Rubble, but the static firmly occupied his focus. Realizing his own thoughts, Chase scolded himself in his mind for making excuses.
Memories and mistakes aside, there was an absolutely bad feeling that was picking at Chase's fur. He hadn't the slightest where it was coming from, as he would never in his life believe his own family would try to hurt him. Was it just nerves? Anxiety? Or was there something malicious walking among them, something Chase never even thought to look for?
Zuma was watching his every move. As a coast guard, the Lab was trained to improvise his rescues in the event of harsh weather or if other unpredictable aspects of the sea interfered. Thinking quickly was something he was just too good at, and he wrote in his head alternate solutions in the event something changed or went wrong. To him, Chase was an unpredictable equation, a denominator that didn't fit, an anomaly that didn't belong. He wasn't sure of it then, but he knew now that the Shepherd was dangerous and needed to be dealt with.
"What am I looking for, exactly?" Chase nosed the door open, looking back into the gasoline-spewing room, "do you just want me to hold it open?"
"Just like that," Zuma said, slowly coming up behind him.
The only one who saw it before it happened was Rocky. The mix briefly turned back to ask Zuma a question, only to see the Lab stalking up behind Chase. Instantly he stiffened to alarm and opened his mouth to bark a warning, but he was not quick enough.
Chase's breath left him as he was forcefully shoved from behind, throwing him onto his stomach. He spluttered out a noise of surprise and tried to scramble up, fear and confusion hitting him all at once. "Zuma?!" He cried, looking back at the door where he had been pushed in.
The Lab's eyes were cold and unforgiving, "goodbye, Chase."
The Shepherd was helpless as his old friend slammed the door shut, slapping on the magnetic lock which instantly fastened to the metal surface like glue. The deed was done, deceived and backstabbed, Chase was trapped in the basement as it slowly flooded with gasoline. And Zuma felt absolutely no remorse.
"Zuma, what the hell?!" Rocky rushed over, frantic at what he witnessed, "what are you doing?!" He made a leap for the door and tried to pull the lock off, only to be shoved away by the defiant Labrador.
Snarling at the knocked-over mix, Zuma bared his teeth, a feral demeanor coming over him, "I'm doing what needs to be done!"
"Get him out!"
"Can't," the Lab shrugged, "I made sure the locks couldn't come off, it's only fair he burns alive."
Now it was Marshall who whipped around in shock, "what?!"
Rocky tried to get up but Zuma's brute paw shoved him back to the floor, the coast guard was consumed by anger and resentment, "he murdered Skye, why are you protecting him?!" He snarled, "why have you been giving him any chance at all?!"
Bewildered, Rocky stared up in fear at the Labs terrifying statue. With quickened breaths, he uttered the only response he could think of: "he's my brother!"
"In spirit, maybe," Zuma rolled his eyes, "none of us are related!"
"We don't have to be!" Came the mix's desperate plea, "after all we've been through, all these years, we're all family! He's my brother, as he is yours!"
The Lab twisted his snarl at those words, "I will not call a murderer my brother."
"Chase!" Marshall pounded on the sealed door.
Zuma turned around to the Dalmation, briefly releasing his grip on the Rocky. Panicked, the mix looked at his side and spotted a discarded wrench sitting aimlessly on the floor.
"There's exposed wiring in there," Zuma grinned, "I suggest you back up from the door, the explosion will be violent."
"Liberty!" Marshall turned his attention to the Dachshund standing off to the side, "do something!"
To his complete horror, Liberty only shrugged. It was obvious on her face that she was just as horrified at the scene, but there was little she could do to help. The door was sealed with Chase on the other side, and none of the dogs had the strength or tools to bust the magnetic locks or break the door down.
"Make peace with whatever god you believe in, Chase!" Zuma shoved Marshall aside, moving to the door, "because in a few short seconds, you're going to be-"
The Lab was silenced as a metal wrench slammed off the back of his head, knocking him to the ground unconscious. Never in his entire life did Rocky think he would strike Zuma, but the situation was dire and the Lab needed to be subdued. Even as he whimpered faintly, Marshall staggered up to the best of his ability, crawling over to Zuma. Even after witnessing the Lab's twisted crime, he still felt compelled to tend to his injuries.
Rocky dropped the wrench from his mouth, its old metal now stained with a splash of Zuma's blood. It hit the floor with a clang, a shriek of noise in the cold silence.
"Chase!" The mix jumped to the door, trying to wrench it loose with any strength he had, "can you hear me?!"
It was hopeless, whatever Zuma had locked the door with was staying put, and would continue to do so until heavier firepower was involved. On the other side, Chase was panicking to a severe degree. He half-expected his static sound to return, but instead, all he heard was the splashing of gasoline as it slowly began to cover the floor. Whimpering in fear, he tried to back himself to the wall, knowing that if even a splash of the fuel hit him he'd be a dead dog when the sparks flew. His heart was broken, fighting between anger and mourning. He had been betrayed, backstabbed by his friend of almost ten years.
Fearful, he tried to call his remaining family, "Rocky?!" He barked.
The voice was muffled from the other side of the door, "I can hear you!'
"Get me out of here!"
"Zuma blocked the door!"
Quicking flinging his gaze around, Chase tried to survey his options. He had to leave the team if he was to survive, he needed to flee back into the infected basement. The biomass that leeched the walls was covering up the sprinklers, meaning he only had a few moments of a grace period to travel without being splashed by gasoline.
"Then..." Chase tried to think of any possible solution, his heartbeat moving too fast to get a coherent thought through. His paw still pressed against the door, and with the smell of gas in his nose, he slowly came to the realization of what had to happen. "Just get the garage door open, I'll lead Feroxmalis away as far as I can."
"But, how will you get back?"
Sighing, Chase gently pressed his forehead to the door, "I won't."
"Chase... no."
"I owe it to you, after everything," he confessed, "the lies, the ignorance, everything. Get that door open and run as far away from this tower as you can." He ran through the layout of the basement in his mind, "find someone in the ACG and tell them what's happened here."
Still Rocky was defiant, "Chase, you're our leader!" He hit his paw against the barrier between them.
"No," the Shepherd confessed, starting to move away, "you are."
"Chase! No!"
The cries falling on deaf ears, Chase bit back his tears and turned away from his family. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the flooding room and leaped from his position. He broke into a run, flattening his ears and streaming back into the infected hallway. He was no longer afraid, even in the face of death he felt nothing. His beloved family would be safe, and thus there would be nothing left to fear, not even Feroxmalis.
The hallway.
Now ignoring the blistering teeth and flesh that leeched the walls, wriggling and pulsating as gasoline dripped on them, he looked around with determination in his mind. "Feroxmalis you bastard!" He barked as loud as possible, "come get me!" He stood with spiked fur in the middle of the floor, paws firmly planted out as he darted his gaze around. Even while vastly outmatched, he refused to go down without a fight, to prove that monster wasn't invincible. He stood for several minutes when he realized Feroxmalis wasn't coming, likely far away in another part of the basement. "Alright, fine!"
The communication room.
This area said seen enough action, it was here that Zuma found the jammer and restored the connection to their collars. The trashed tables and computers glistened orange and red as the gasoline rained down from the ceiling. Chase was taking great care to avoid the flammable liquid, but it was plausible that stray drops could hit him. He padded out to the middle of the room, approaching the flowering biomass Zuma and Marshall had to crawl through. Exhaling in agitation, he cracked his neck to the side and tossed himself into it. Bothered little by the sticky, hot interior of the tight corridor, Chase pulled himself free into a hallway lined with teeth.
Glancing to the side, Chase caught a view of a piece of exposed wall, where the flesh and muscle were cut and pried off. Behind it was a wall panel bent open, revealing a maze of wiring and electrical systems. The Shepherd did a double-take, realizing that the wires had been cut, and violent sparks were emitting. If one spark happened to land on the liquid fuel that pooled on the ground, it would be the end of The Lookout. Zuma was right: the entire basement was now a death trap. The wires were sparking insanely quick, flickering and spreading like flies, every second coming dangerously closer to the gasoline.
"Oh God," Chase backed up, faint worry coming over him, but he shook it away fast. He had already accepted death, he just needed to make sure Feroxmalis was taken out with him. "Alright you monster... where-"
The vicious sound of screeching cut off his sentence. Chase whipped around in surprise to see a writhing tentacle birthing from the cluster of muscles behind him. Instantly, he turned to face it, although backing up steadily. Then a second tentacle came out, then a third, then a fourth, then a lanky arm reached out of it, flexing its razor-bone claws.
"You," Chase lowered himself a little, swallowing his fear.
Reaching its second arm out, Feroxmalis birthed itself out, gripping its claws into the floor as its head shot out. The sight of it face-to-face shot Chase's tail under his legs. The creature flattened its torn ears, baring its bloodstained fangs as it fully pulled itself free. Rearing to its full height, the creature stared down at its prey, a low hiss emitting from its maw as it dared the puppy to make a move.
"What-" the Shepherd was shaking, "what... are you?"
Feroxmalis tapped its claws, taking a few steps forward as its tail flicked behind it. Opening its mouth, a sickening snap could be heard, as its bones moved improperly and rearranged. Tilted its head violently to the right, Feroxmalis ordered the trapped soul inside it to give up his voice. Realigning its head, the creature did something that caught Chase off guard.
It spoke. With Rubble's voice.
"I am... you," it slithered, hissing as the tentacles holding its body together wriggled, "just as you... are me."
Off to his right, Chase noticed the exposed wiring. The sparks it emitted were growing more erratic, and a steady stream of gasoline was beginning to seep toward it.
Feroxmalis took another step forward, Chase took a step back, and the stream continued. The creature roared out and flexed its teeth, prompting its prey to run, although Chase stayed put. The gasoline puddle grew in size, and Feroxmalis stepped into it without realizing it. Chase found himself backed up to a wall, he winced as an inhumane screech mocked him. The creature lowered its head and torso, looking like it was about to leap, yet remained in place. The puppy had been a thorn in its side, and it wanted to torture him as long as possible. Pressing himself to the wall, Chase shut his eyes, seeing only darkness in what he thought was his final seconds.
The creature began to lean backward, sitting on its hind legs. Slowly, it began to push down, lifting its torso up as it reached another stage of its evolution. Now towering over Chase, it let its shoulders droop down as its ribcage jutted forward. It was standing on two legs, no longer bound to walking like an animal. Snapping its tail around, Feroxmalis snarled, not seeing the gasoline leaking under the exposed wiring.
Ignition.
A hurricane of fire erupted in a matter of seconds, the entire basement erupted in a flaming chain reaction. A blast of heat and a cloud of fire consumed them both, a screech of agony roaring out of the monster. The trap was stronger than Zuma could have ever imagined, the fumes of the gas had seeped into the vents, leaking into the full tower itself. When it was ignited, the pressurized explosion was not contained in the basement. Gas pipes that lined the tower broke upon impact, further intensifying the explosion and adding to the destruction. In an instant the upper windows shattered out, explosions climbing up its center, blasting out concrete and debris piece by piece. It could've been heard for miles, as a fog of smoke and flame shrouded the entire tower as it was shredded apart. The structure made a feeble attempt to keep standing, only its support quickly snapped.
The Lookout fell, collapsing in a cloud of smoke and fire.