Furnace 2 - Solitary by Alexander Gordon Smith

Author:Alexander Gordon Smith [Smith, Alexander Gordon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-04-27T17:01:58+00:00

SPECIMENS

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.

The voice in my head never got the chance to break free from between my lips. I was too scared to find the breath to speak, my shell-shocked brain forgetting how to form words. It was happening again. I was trapped and powerless as a wheezer approached just like on the night before we made our break. I pictured it stopping on the other side of the screen, its piggy eyes lighting up when it sensed us trembling inside. Visitors. Intruders.

Specimens.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, hot fingers singeing my skin. Simon was there, a finger on his lips and the rest of his face a mask of fear. I turned to Zee, so pale he could have been transparent against the white curtains that separated us from the rest of the infirmary.

The wheezer’s steps grew closer, scuffed against the smooth rock of the floor. I heard the sound of it convulsing, the needles strapped to its chest clinking and its leather coat flapping. I wanted to check the cubicle for something we could use as a weapon, but I knew that if I turned away for a second I’d look back to see it peering through the curtains, the stitches of its gas mask straining as its face split open into a smile.

A shadow sprouted up from the bottom of the screen. I could make out the dome of its head, the curve of the pipe once more fastened into a tank on its back. The dark shape grew as the wheezer came to a halt on the other side of the curtain.

A meter, maybe two, separating us from it. It took a long, ragged breath, its asthmatic hiss like an ancient, scratched recording of a string quartet. Then it unleashed its hellish cry, so loud that the sound was like a dagger in my ears.

Something answered it. I thought at first it was an echo, but the distant scream repeated itself and the wheezer in the infirmary returned the call. It reminded me of vultures announcing the location of a new corpse on which to feast. Or three, in this case.

I glanced at Simon again, hoping he’d take on the wheezer with the same fearlessness with which he’d tackled the rat. But he was petrified, his eyes stretched so wide they were more vein than anything else—veins that pulsed black rather than red. Right now he didn’t look like he could tie his own shoes, let alone take down the wheezer.

Correction, wheezers.

I heard the second freak walk into the room. It must have come from the other door, its footsteps hurried. The silhouette before us made a noise like it was choking, which morphed into a wet gurgle, almost a purr, and seconds later we heard it in stereo.

The longer we waited the more danger we were in. If we moved now we might just make it past the first wheezer, and the second was approaching from the far side of the room.

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