The most rational choice was running away. After all, he was already dead, and nothing would change that. Staying would let that young man’s sacrifice go to waste.

  Unfortunately, there was a stack of containers right behind her. Clearly whoever had put them there was a complete idiot. Metal groaned as crates toppled and slammed into neighboring stacks. Booming with a sharp crack as they hit the ground, echoing throughout the room.

  Bouncing off the impact, Ashley stumbled and barely managed to catch herself, then bolted past the security doors and into the hallway beyond. Her heels struck the floor in a harsh rhythm, each click louder than the last. She didn’t have a destination. She only knew she needed distance. As much of it as possible.

  Then the ground vanished.

  Heat slammed into her back, and she found herself airborne. Her arms flailed out, and then her sight was robbed.

  She hit the ground hard.

  The air was snatched from her lungs. Skin burned as it scraped across cold metal. Her ears popped, followed by a shrill ringing that swallowed everything.

  She laid there unmoving, letting the darkness consume her. Her notion of time was lost in the void, and soon too was the concept that she was even alive. But slowly they returned as light bled through her eyes and they fluttered open.

  There she saw a ceiling, lit by faint orange lights.

  What was she doing again?

  Her thoughts felt sluggish, as if waterlogged.

  Working right? Then why was she on her back? Did she take a light nap on the floor?

  A guttural groan crawled its way out of her lips as she tried to sit up. Her limbs were uncooperative, refusing to budge. Slowly her thoughts began to learn to swim. Then the pain returned, sharp and insistent, dragging memory back with it.

  Schafer.

  The boy.

  That thing.

  Ashley gasped and shot up, forcing herself upright. Pain coursed through her body, but she endured and clutched her head.

  Shit, it hurts.

  She analyzed her condition, finding that her stockings were torn open, displaying bloody purple bruises. She pulled down a sleeve, revealing more angrily aching flesh.

  It didn’t matter.

  She couldn’t stay here. Not while that thing was still out there.

  To the objection of her sore body, Ashley gritted her teeth and staggered to her feet, muttering curses and grunts. Steadily she stumbled forward, each step sending another shock through her being. She wasn’t going to die. Not today. Not ever. She checked her surroundings against her mental map and limped onward.

  The facility was silent.

  Too silent.

  Nobody had come to greet her.

  Were all those assholes hiding?

  They should’ve been searching the halls for her. Cowards! Every last one of them! That boy had understood what needed to be done. It only made sense that he gave his life for her. But the rest of them? All cowards!

  Turning the corner, Ashley stopped.

  The hall was painted red.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  It coated the walls and ceiling in uneven splatter. While the floor was littered with pieces: tubes of flesh, rounded lumps, and shapes that might have meant something once.

  She stepped forward. Something squished beneath her heel.

  Casting her gaze downward, she found an arm that was bent the wrong way. The bone pierced through and snapped into two different pieces. Besides that, there were other bits as well. Legs, a torso, and even a few heads. All thrown around as if a child had a tantrum with their dolls.

  Cough.

  A splatter of red hit her heel as it ejected from what remained of a corpse’s mouth. More red liquid flowed, drenching its chin and dripping down onto its lap. Its limbs were gone, replaced with dripping red stumps. There was also a massive hole in its abdomen, spilling its intestines all over the floor.

  Ashley sneered and turned away.

  Karma at its finest.

  If he had searched for her, he would still be alive. Instead, he ran. Just like the others.

  She moved on.

  Rubble blocked the corridor ahead. The elevators should have been this way. Cursing under her breath, Ashley turned back, leaning against the wall as she pushed herself forward. She didn’t want to think about running into that thing again. Plan B would have to do.

  The checkpoint door loomed ahead, massive and intact. Beside it, a guard stared at her through the narrow window, eyes wide.

  “Miss Sinclair!”

  She crossed the remaining distance and keyed in her credentials. The scanner blinked red.

  She tried again yet was met with the same result.

  She slid down the wall until she was level with the glass, “Why isn’t it working?”

  The guard stiffened, backing away, “I’m sorry, ma’am. All access codes have been reset.”

  Air hissed from her lips, and she nodded towards the door.

  “Open it.”

  At her order, the guard winced, “I’m sorry, Ma’am, you know I can't do that.”

  “I don’t care; open the fucking door," she repeated.

  “I can’t!”

  Slamming a fist against the window, Ashley snarled, “Do it or I’ll fire your ass!”

  “I’m not endangering everyone else just to save you!”

  Scoffing, she slammed again and again, “You can’t do this to me!”

  “I’m sorry! I really am, but there are no exceptions!”

  Her laughter bubbled up before she could stop it. Soft at first. Then louder.

  Of course.

  He was doing this for the others? A big fat fucking lie. She could see that. The way he looked at her, the way he smirked with that shit-eating grin. He was lying. Corporate must’ve put him up to this… no, Schafer did! No, they hated her… They all hated her… They all wanted her dead.

  Fine.

  If that was the case, then she would have no choice. They forced her hand! She didn’t want to do this, but she had to! There was no other way! It was them or her!

  “I’m sorry…” the guard finished, breaking his gaze.

  Pushing off the wall, Ashley walked away. The guard continued to apologize, his voice growing distant from her. The pain faded with each step until it was barely there at all.

  Perfect.

  If she had to fight, she would. She just needed a weapon to defend herself. The armory… it shouldn’t be that far from here.

  A gun… yes, a gun… that would suffice. That's exactly what she needed. With Schafer’s code, she would be able to enter, and then…

  The guard’s warning from earlier whispered in the back of her mind.

  No, it was fine. Everything was still fine. All she had to do was find a computer and log into his account again.

  Her hand plunged into her coat.

  Nothing.

  She checked another pocket. Then another. The note was gone.

  No. No, no, no.

  Fuck. Fuck! How was it gone? His password… Right, it was… Shit! Why now? Why her? Why? Why? Why? It didn't—

  Something caught her foot, and she tripped.

  Reacting swiftly, she reached out to soften her fall. But it was unnecessary, as something already cushioned it.

  A girl stared back without any light in her eyes. Fortunately, if she weren't missing her entire jaw and half her skull, their lips might’ve connected. An idea so revolting, Ashley gagged at it. Or maybe it was the putrid stench that abused her senses. Either way, she didn’t want to stick around.

  Peeling herself off, new red splotches adorned her clothes. Something she paid no mind to as connections formed inside her head. If she were a guard, then she must’ve had one of those. Except only intestines and assorted organs remained where her tool belt was supposed to be. And her one remaining hand grasped at air.

  Inching closer, her eyes roamed the floor until there it was! The guard’s missing other half.

  The belt was torn away, empty. But located on a severed hand, a pistol was still hooked around its trigger finger. Something she swiftly picked up, tossing the hand away as it tried to cling on.

  She was safe now. With this, nobody could hurt her.

  Not corporate.

  Not Schafer.

  That guard was going to regret everything! Now all she had to do was get the door open, and—

  Behind her, the door creaked.