Chương 138: Chapter 137 – Liquid Courage

The laboratory's parking lot lay mostly empty, the streetlights casting long, skeletal shadows across the asphalt. The air was cool, carrying the faint smell of wet pavement and old exhaust. Trula's travel pod sat at an awkward angle, straddling two parking spaces like it had given up halfway through parking. The driver's side door hung open, the interior lights spilling out onto the ground in a pale, guilty glow. Trula stood beside the side panel, swaying slightly as he examined the damage.

A long scrape ran across the paint, ending in a dent that looked suspiciously trash-can shaped.

"Oh, man, the insurance company is going to have a field day with this one." He sighed dramatically. No, it just jumped in the way, I swear! He snickered, amused at his own joke.

"This is just perfect," he muttered as he tried to pick up the garbage can he had knocked over. It wobbled in his hands, clattering loudly as he set it upright.

"Well, security should be here any minute now." He slid back into the travel pod, the seat groaning under him. He put the travel pod into what he thought was reverse, squinting at the gear shift like it was personally trying to trick him. He hit the gas. The car lurched forward instead, slamming into the trash can with a crunch that vibrated through the steering wheel and up his arms. He felt that one. He slammed the brake too late, the car shuddering to a stop.

He put it in park and dropped his forehead onto the steering wheel, the cool leather pressing against his skin.

"What am I doing?" he asked the empty vehicle. He lifted his head and stared at himself in the rearview mirror. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, rimmed with exhaustion. You don't even have enough sense to put the car in reverse, and you are going to rescue someone. He laughed bitterly.

"Who's going to rescue you when you screw it up?" he asked his reflection. The events of earlier flooded his mind. The hybrid's voice. The pleading. The terror. But I don't want to die. The memory hit him like a punch. The plunger. The needle. The way the hybrid's body had convulsed. The way it had stopped. The way it had looked afterward, no longer resembling anything alive. He couldn't watch it again. He couldn't let it happen again. Trula took a deep breath, the air shaking in his lungs.

"It's now or never, buddy," he whispered, patting his pockets. Key card… check. His fingers trembled around the plastic. The alcohol made everything feel both urgent and dreamlike, like he was walking through fog with a torch that kept flickering. He knew the facility's night security rotation. The fact that they hadn't passed by yet was the only thing working in his favor. His key card should get him in. He would just have to convince the guards that Wentworth wanted the specimen to be prepped early. After that…

well, after that was a problem for future Trula. Present Trula had a mission. That elf didn't deserve what was coming. No one deserved what Wentworth was planning. The facility's automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss, the cold air inside brushing against his face. The night security guard looked up, his expression more bored than suspicious.

"Evening, Trula," he mumbled, barely glancing away from his computer screen.

"Trying to get a head start before the boss gets in," Trula said, forcing his voice into something resembling normal. The words came out slightly slurred, but the guard didn't seem to notice… or care.

"Do whatcha gotta do," the guard said, waving him off. He began to laugh suddenly. Trula froze, then realized the guard wasn't laughing at him but at whatever video he was watching. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Trula's heart raced as he walked down the corridor. Each step felt like a potential misstep. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, their brightness almost accusatory. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and cold metal.

He knew the route to the holding facility by heart. Wentworth had sent him to retrieve specimens countless times, and every time, the sickness in his stomach had been there. The things Wentworth did to those animals were bad enough. He had told himself it was science. Necessary. Controlled. But this… this was far beyond science. This was depraved. The hallway leading to the specimen holding area was quiet. Too quiet. His key card would get him through the first door, but the inner security would be harder.

He'd need to sell his story about prepping the specimen for Wentworth's morning experiments. Come on, Trula. This shouldn't be difficult. They know you. They know you work for Wentworth. You've done this a million times. Why should this time be any different? His hands wouldn't stop shaking. He pressed his back against the wall, bending forward with his hands on his knees, breathing deeply. There you go, you big strong hero. You can't even make it down the hall without a panic attack.

His fingers brushed the key card in his pocket. A small talisman of hope. Just get in. Get the elf out. Simple. He tried to ignore the voice whispering how monumentally stupid this plan was. That would imply there was a plan. He snickered weakly, pushing himself upright. He resigned himself to the task ahead. Another set of doors. Another chance to turn back. That would be the smart thing to do, Trula. Turn back. Turn back now. No one needs to know. Go to the lab. Sit there.

Think about this before you do something you're going to regret. But Trula knew there was no turning back. The voice of reason had been muted the moment he started this. If I continue to do nothing, then I am just as bad as Wentworth. Change has to start somewhere. Someone has to put a stop to all of this madness. Why not me? He told himself, newly found bravado creeping in. He took one last deep breath and scanned his key card.

"Morning, fellas. Just going to grab the specimen and get him ready for Wentworth. After the other one dying on us yesterday, I don't want to do anything to upset him again. He gave me explicit orders to have him ready to go the minute he walked in the door," Trula said, surprising himself with how steady he sounded.

"Trula, it's four in the morning. Wentworth won't be in until at least nine," the first guard replied.

"Yeah, I know," Trula said.

"Better to be early, because if you're on time you're late." He snickered.

"You know Wentworth and how he gets. I'd rather get him prepped and ready and wait than have to scramble."

"I don't know, Trula. Wentworth didn't leave any instructions. He said no one goes in or out without him present," the guard said, skeptical.

"Come on, Dan. Cut me a break. Wentworth has been riding my ass something fierce. I don't want to give him another reason." Trula's voice carried such sincerity he almost believed himself. Dan looked at the second guard.

"I'm staying out of this one," the second guard said.

"This is one of those damned if you do, damned if you don't situations."

"What do you say, Dan? Can you help me out here?" Trula asked, eyes pleading.

"And what do I tell Wentworth when he comes down on me for letting you in?" Dan asked.

"Besides, smells like you've been tying one on. How 'bout you go sleep it off in the lab?"

"I can't do that, Dan," Trula said softly.

"I really wish I could, but I can't."

"What do you mean…" Dan began, then stopped abruptly when he saw the gun in Trula's hand.

"I mean I can't. I have a job to do, and I am not going to let some little piss ant like you stop me," Trula said, waving the gun.

"Trula, how about we talk about this. You are obvio…"

"Just shut up, Dan, and open the damn door," Trula said, his voice cracking.

"I didn't want this to go this way, Dan, believe me I didn't, but I will shoot you and Xavier if you don't open that door and let me and the elf walk out of here." Trula didn't notice Xavier's foot press a small button under the desk. Alarm bells erupted, shrill and deafening. Trula jumped, tears filling his eyes.

"I really wish you hadn't done that, Xavier," he said.

"Open the door. Now!" He pointed the gun at him and cocked the hammer.

"Go get him." Xavier scrambled to obey. Trula was so focused on him that he didn't notice Dan rising behind him. Trula elbowed Dan in the stomach, doubling him over. Xavier returned, pushing the elf forward.

"Here," Xavier said.

"You got what you came for. Now go!" As Trula grabbed the elf and pulled him toward the exit, Dan lunged, wrestling him for the gun. A loud pop echoed through the room, muting the alarm and the sound of guards rushing down the corridor.