My eyes snapped open to a bright red light, similar to the lights that announced our failure during tactical training in the simulation, but accompanying this crimson glow was the ongoing piercing ring of an alarm. It took a second for it all to register, but thanks to the dozen or so drills we've had, it finally clicked that there was an emergency. A fire? Some sort of outbreak? Contamination?

A chill crept down my spine.

Throwing the sheets aside, I tossed my legs over the edge of the bed. Still a bit disoriented from being awakened during a deep sleep, I sniffed the air for a trace of smoke but instead detected others' fear in the form of sweat and body odor. I stood and caught the glow of the hour on the wall: zero-three hundred.

A shout came from nearby and blurred figures rushed left and right in the hall outside the room door. Shadows passed in front of me like wisps of dark mist accentuated by the red hue of the emergency lights. A voice called out orders, "Move it, cadets. To your gear. Move, move, move!" The commands mingled with the distant noise of pained whimpers, panicked cries, and the nearby sounds of rapid and flustered breathing.

Chaos.

Panic rose from my gut, but I inhaled slowly to stifle it. I scanned the space for the source of the orders. Then a tug of my arm pulled me from the room.

Not sure, I wondered aloud, "Vince?" Not recognizing much but his slender fingers around my forearm.

"Snap out of it, asshole." Vince pivoted, gripped my shoulders and shook. "We got a job to do."

"What's going on?" I focused, trying to get a grip on what was happening. The frightened expressions on many of the residents' faces kick-started my adrenaline, and suddenly my legs were keeping up with Vince as he hastily made his way down the hall, passed more panicky people and toward our lockers.

Inside the locker room, I met some of the other male cadets. They each were in various stages of removing sleeping garments to slip on the tough, stretchy combat gear with their last names stamped on the left breast directly below the red Refuge Inc. emblem. Some were already suited and were quickly securing their helmets, weapons belt, and ... armored vests?

"What's going on?" I asked, cutting my eyes to Vince. Why weren't orders being delivered over the P.A. system as planned during the many drills? Where was the routine message explaining, "In the event of an actual emergency, instructions will be given for your safety"? Where were the instructions?

"What the hell are you doing?" Vince grabbed a vest off the shelf beside the rifle rack, where only a few of the weapons remained. He tossed the heavy vest to me. "Did you not hear? There's a contamination leak on Ten. Dad sent orders, via higher officers, to meet him on Nine. I think he doesn't want to broadcast the contamination leak to anyone other than cadets and higher officers just yet. Otherwise, he would've used the P.A. to send orders."

"Contamination?" Toxins. The dense, murky pollutants that deprived Earth of most of its oxygen and eroded our bodies from the inside out within days of inhaling it. Hell itself.

Quickly, I opened my locker and retrieved my gear, the numbers seven-one-six stamped on the back in white, the name Nichols embroidered on the front left breast. Vince was dressed, armed, and out the door before me. I'm sure he had a good reason to leave his partner behind, but in no time I exited and was on my way to Nine, jogging right alongside other cadets. Surely, the leaders wouldn't want us anywhere near the deadly poison. Still, I couldn't imagine what role we'd play in controlling the leak, other than assisting in evacuations.

We cut a corner and a handful of female cadets joined us. My visor was down, concealing my face, just like the other cadets. It was difficult to see through the visor material from the outside looking in, but from the inside looking out, it was as clear and bright as I remembered daylight being. The female cadets were dressed in similar gear: helmets, vests, and firearms. However, I'd never mistake male cadets for female cadets because of the female's slightly smaller and feminine frame, and that they emerge from the female locker room.

We hit another corner, heading toward the closest western lift and staircase. The eastern staircase and lift were on the opposite end, and would have taken five to ten minutes to reach. We arrived at the lift, but for some reason they weren't working. Being on Seven, we only had to ascend two floors. The door to the spiraling staircase was next to the lift, so along with the others, I entered and we began our climb.

When I reached Nine's flat landing, the winding stairs that continued to lead up to Ten were blocked by a higher officer in full gear, including a gas mask. The round filter canister attached to the mouth of the mask along with the clinch-tip head harness would have made the officer appear alien-like if it wasn't for the single transparent eye lens, making it easier to see his human eyes.

I exited the stairwell. Making my way through a dense pack of cadets and higher officers, I approached the front where Dr. Randolph and several higher officers were standing, urging everyone to quiet down so Dr. Randolph could hand out orders.

"Now we'll need a squad of twelve cadets and two higher officers to prevent all access to and from Six without causing a panic." Dr. Randolph looked out to the crowd of cadets. "One higher officer and six cadets to each stairwell. I ordered the lifts deactivated. If anyone asks, it's a simple classified exercise, but keep people from panicking."

A higher officer to the left was handing out gas masks to a few other higher officers. As he tossed the masks he explained, "Higher officers from Eight and Nine move into Ten. Everyone with masks, go in and secure Ten's access. We gotta stop it from reaching Nine."

"What about survivors?" a cadet asked.

Randolph cleared his throat before announcing, "All of Ten is contaminated."

An unnerving silence filled the room.

The people on the tenth floor were effected? Damn! My breathing turned shallow, I became aware of it when my lungs ached. I removed my helmet and forced myself to take in bigger breaths to prevent hyperventilation. Or were some of the toxins from Ten slowly entering Nine and my system? From descriptions of the poison, it was virtually undetectable until it was too late, except for a faint scent of anise or licorice as the lungs underwent necrosis. I looked to the others, but no one seemed to experience similar reactions. Maybe my fears were to blame for my body's response.

Voices started up again and Randolph lifted his hand to quiet the room and get everyone's attention. "No one but uniformed officers are to come through this entrance either way, in or out. Am I clear? No cadets. Cadets, you are here for support only. A backup."

Carefully, with my firearm in one hand, I attached my helmet to my weapons belt by its pleather strap. I scanned the room for Vince, searching for his number, seven-zero-two. My instinct assured me that as long as I had my partner by my side, we could make it through whatever was in store. Unable to find him, I turned, pushed passed the wave of uniformed people, and made my way closer to Dr. Randolph.

"Sir." I swallowed. My chest tightened. "What should I do?"

Randolph made eye contact. "Level Seven cadets are here for security purposes only. If anyone other than a uniformed officer or cadet comes through, we neutralize them."

My jaw dropped. "Neutralize? Why? Can't we treat them? Can't we do whatever we can for them until they—"

"No."

The hush that came over the room seemed to make my heart pound louder. Everyone looked to Dr. Randolph.

"That's correct, cadets," he continued. His voice loud and authoritative. "We evacuated most of Ten, but it's already too late for whoever is left. So anyone on Ten who is without a gas mask is contaminated and a threat. Anyone. The highest level threat. Recent studies reported the contaminated air to cause those infected to be irrational, confused, and extremely violent, as their only objective is to kill." His voice powered over the many murmurs. "The higher officers will take care of the neutralization. The rest of you, your objective is strictly this: Do not allow any infected person beyond this floor. That's our highest concern. If you absolutely have to, only if it comes down to it, you have permission to use any means necessary. "

Infected? Any means necessary? He was talking about the residents on Ten that hadn't evacuated in time. People who were stuck up there. People we all probably knew and loved. Leaders, cadets, higher officers, and any of the other men and women who resided there.

Immediately questions rang out, overlapping the other voices, resulting in indiscernible noise.

"Sir," I shouted, just inches from his ear.

He continued to repeat his orders to the crowd. However, his words were inaudible amongst the commotion.

"Sir?" I tapped his shoulder. Finally, he looked to me.

"Cadet Nichols, you and Vince stand down." He quickly scanned the room. "Where is Vince?"

I shrugged. "I want to help anyway I can, but-"

"You stand down, cadet." His voice stern. "You're not ready."

"But ... but ... killing?" I needed to know. "Killing?"

He couldn't hear my voice above the disorder-I knew because it was difficult for me to hear my own-but when he looked over to me again, he must have saw my concern.

He put his hand up reassuringly. "Listen, listen," he called out into the red-lit room. It quieted a bit, enough for him to be heard. "This is difficult, I know. However, it's an absolute necessity to ensure the safety of the facility and its people. We can't let this poison take over. So our only choice is to do whatever it takes to stop it."

As much as the toxins terrified the living hell out of me, killing and enabling killing scared me more. It would be a moment etched into my conscience forever. I knew it was something we'd possibly had to face one day, in a life or death situation. But so soon? Now? Within the facility? If someone wearing anything other than a full uniform and a gas mask invaded Nine from Ten, our only option was to kill that person-for the sake of our future and for their sake as well. I tried to remind myself that we would save hundreds of lives by performing that action while also saving those effected from the agony of being manipulated and eventually eaten alive by an undetectable contagion.

A sour taste rose to my throat. I swallowed to prevent myself from vomiting.

Behind me, a troop of higher officers each grabbed a gas mask from a crate near the entrance and entered the stairwell going up. I quickly scanned the double-digit numbers on their backs as they went.

I overheard people's frantic concerns as I pushed my way past to find Vince, holding my rifle close to my chest by the barrel. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I called out, "Vince? Vince?" Where the hell are you?

I shimmied through people. Elbows and knees jabbed my body as I squeezed past. The helmet strapped to my belt got wedged between bodies a few times as I pushed through, slowing me down.

From far behind, Dr. Randolph's voice rose over the others. "We have to take care of this problem first before we're able to seal off Ten. If we leave them alive up there, they might compromise the barrier and put our lives at risk at any moment. Also, we'll be protecting them from days of suffering."

They were sealing off that level too? The habitable part of the hemi would be less than half of the entire facility.

"Vince," I called out again. And again, my helmet snagged, stopping me in my tracks. Then someone grabbed my elbow. I turned. "Vince?"

"No." Gloved hands gripped the helmet that obscured the person's face and removed the bulky armor, revealing Tamara's big, scared eyes. My gaze dropped to the name etched on her left breast below the famous red emblem: Arnold. "I just made it up here. Can you believe this is happening?" The red light from above shown down on her face, casting contouring shadows under her prominent cheekbones.

I shook my head. "Have you seen Vince?"

"Yeah, he went that way with those guys." She pointed toward the stairwell where a couple higher officers ascended. One officer stood, guarding the entrance.

"Are you sure?" I had only seen double-digit numbers on the uniforms of those who entered. Had I missed a triple digit?

"I can't believe this is happening." Tamara looked behind her.

I took hold of her shoulders, demanding her attention. "Tamara? Did Vince go in the stairwell? Did he go up?"

"Yeah. Oh my fuck. Yes, he did." She nodded and brought her hand to her dropped jaw. "Number seven-zero-two, right?"

Damn it! "Why would he do that?" I knew she didn't have the answer, and one really didn't matter at the moment either. I left her and made my way to the higher officer guarding the stairs. "Sir?" I gripped his forearm, demanding his undivided attention. "Did any cadets come through?"

"Negative." The officer seemed confident with his answer. However, Tamara appeared behind me.

"I saw seven-zero-two enter the staircase, sir." She confirmed. "Cadet Moore."

Suddenly the look on his face gave away his unease. "A cadet?"

"Not just a cadet. Dr. Randolph's son!" I turned, pushing aside anyone in my path to make my way to the leader. "Sir?" I called out above the noise. "Vince went through." Finally, Dr. Randolph looked my way. I yelled as loud as my voice would allow. "Vince went through to Ten!"

Dr. Randolph's eyes widened, and then darted to the staircase. His finger went up to his earbud. He ducked his head away from the noise in the room, but his mouth moved. He must've connected with Control and was in the process of somehow ordering Vince to back down and return.

Just as a bit of relief started to settle over me. A loud crack sounded through the stairwell, like a thunderous bolt of explosive lightning, and shook the entire level. The rumbling sent a crippling shudder from the heels of my feet up the length of my spine. Loud gasps and screams echoed throughout the room, and adrenaline caused my heart to skip a beat.

Vince?!

Without a second thought, I pushed through people, making my way to the gas masks. I grabbed a mask, and since my helmet was more of a nuisance than I could handle, I detached it and allowed it to fall to the floor. I thrust past the higher officer and bolted up the stairs toward Ten. The uproar in the room behind me caused my ears to ring, deafening as it traveled through the narrow stairwell and blended with the shouts in front of me. My ascent came to an abrupt halt as the officers ahead of me were blocked in the cramped space mid-climb as well. Were those in Ten pushing their way back to Nine causing the sudden stall?

"Vince?" I called, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear me but needing to try anyway.

Suddenly, a force yanked me back. I lost my footing, landed on my rear, and slid down a couple of the concrete stairs, my hip taking most of the abuse. I belted out in pain and awkwardly balanced on a step. I turned to find my assailant. The higher officer wrapped his gloved fingers around the crook of my elbow. We tussled and I jerked, trying to release myself from his strong grip. Up ahead, shots rang out. The startling pop-pop-pop grabbed my attention and fueled my drive.

Where was Vince? Why would he go to Ten, especially without me, his partner?

I pulled my elbow from the officer only for him to grab my ankle. Against my better judgment-or because I didn't care about the repercussions-I lifted my other leg, aiming the sole of my shoe at the officer's masked face. The threat wasn't enough to weaken his grasp, so I stomped the mask. Finally, his limp body tumbled down the bottom two steps and smacked into another cadet wearing a gas mask. The cadet's name on the suit was obscured by darkness, but I could tell from the long braids peeking from the exposed backing of the plastic, it was Tamara.

What was she doing and why would she put herself in harm's way? Then again, why had Vince, and why was I?

~~~

What have Connor and Tamara gotten themselves into? What are your thoughts?