Untitled: Parts 1-4 [EDITS]

March '07 - April '07. Expect the conclusion to be coming shortly.

The smell of rain was nauseating. For three days it had rained, drenching the entire complex, and Leon Charles was sick of it. It wasn't just the smell, but also the feel of mud conforming to the shape of his boots whenever he stepped outside; the constant patter on all surfaces, a reminder that he could not escape. Someone asked him before the storm started if he was interested in getting off the island. "No," he had replied. "There's still things to do here." Now, one of three people who were stranded until the storm ended, he regretted not bringing his raincoat.

He passed by a window and stole a brief look outside. The sun was still hidden behind dark clouds hidden behind rain drops hidden behind streaks of water on the window. He could make out the surroundings only because he had seen them so many times before. The courtyard outside was empty of people. In the middle a fountain spouted water into the air. Just behind it, hidden amongst palm fronds and small bushes, was the perimeter fence.

He walked down the stairs, still half asleep. The door to the cafeteria slid open as he approached it. As usual, it was empty. The odds of meeting the other two people were slim. Each had their own work to do, with varying hours of operation. Yesterday Leon had met one in passing in the hallway. They exchanged a friendly nod and smile, but nothing more. Their lives were completely separate.

He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat in the middle of the room. A radio played soft music over several speakers. He opened an auto magazine that he kept on the table and looked over the old articles. He had read every one already, but they helped to take him away from his work.

A half hour later he dumped the bowl into the dishwasher and left the cafeteria. On the way to his office he passed another window and looked outside, as an automatic reaction. It was different. Someone was out there.

Leon stopped just as he caught the image of a figure outside. He backed up and leaned against the window. Standing in the courtyard was a person, drenched in the rain. He stood bent, working on the fountain. He was getting sprayed from the fountain and rain.

Suddenly the man stood upright. He looked around him, in the direction of the fence. He reached towards his side for the gun Leon knew he carried. Without warning a black shape passed into the courtyard. Leon, startled, backed away from the window, but only for a moment. When he returned, the man and shape were gone.

"Oh shit," Leon whispered to himself. He wasted no time. He ran for the nearest exit.

By the time Leon reached the courtyard he was out of breath. He paused at the the doorway, looking through the raindrops to the open fence. He thought about sounding the alarm, but reasoned that he could deal with this problem without the need for any trouble. No help could come, anyway, and it would only cause panic.

He took a cautious step into the rain and immediately shivered. The rain and air were cold. After the initial shock, he wasted no time, and moved quickly to the fence. He reached it and stared blindly into the forest beyond. There was no hope of seeing the man unless he had stayed nearby. He hadn't. Leon closed the fence, locked it, and started back. In a minute he was inside, behind another locked door, safe. But he had to tell someone about what had just happened, in case there was an adverse effect.

He first went to the cafeteria, but it was empty, his magazine the lone occupant. Next he sped down the hall, in the opposite direction of his office, dripping water down the hallway. His shoes squeaked in an otherwise quiet environment. He passed several doors and finally stopped at one. The named outside read "Milo Cervantes." Beneath it, "Systems Manager." Leon knocked. He heard a voice come faintly through the door. "Come in."

Leon turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. It creaked, obviously aged, in contrast to the rest of the facility. Milo sat across from the door, at a desk, watching a muted TV. The lighting was low and the glow of the TV illuminated Milo's face. It was middle-aged, bearded, short hair, piercing eyes.

"Shut it," Milo said, not unkind, without turning to face Leon. Leon obeyed. Once the door was shut, Milo turned to him. "Now, tell me, what's going on?"

"Something's entered the perimeter," Leon responded quickly. His gaze never left Milo's, for fear of the potential result.

"You saw it happen?"

"Yes."

"Then we've no time to lose." Milo was quick to act. In one swift motion the TV was off, he pulled a jacket over himself, and grabbed two guns from a drawer. He threw one in Leon's direction. "You know how to use it?"

Leon took a moment to think. "Of course. It's part of the training."

"Good, come on." Milo moved past Leon to the door. "You'll need your coat."

"I'm not going back out there. I've heard of what's through that fence."

Milo stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned slowly. The dim overhead light casted shadows over his eyes, making dark holes. "And what do you think it is?"

Leon started to speak, then stopped. He had heard the stories from older members of his crew. No one could properly explain the phenomenon that occurred outside the protected area. Few of the surviving members currently working had had direct experience with it. Most of the stories were several decades old. No employee of the past twenty years would have thought about leaving the fence without proper protection and transport.

Milo stepped towards Leon and stood in front of him, their eyes staring at each other. "You don't come with me now, and whatever the hell you think is out there, will come in here...And then we'll have a bigger problem."

Milo turned quickly and opened the door. "And grab a coat. It's pouring," he said as he passed through the doorway, leaving Leon momentarily paralyzed.

Leon followed Milo to the exit to the courtyard. Milo paused at the door and checked his gun, then turned to Leon, sizing him up.

"No coat," Leon explained.

"Of course," Milo replied.

Milo opened the door and Leon shivered as the cold air rushed in. It brought with it the smell and feel he had come so accustomed to. It still sickened him. As Milo went out, he pulled the hood over his head. Amongst the sound of the patter on leaves and concrete came the additional patter on plastic.

Leon shut the door behind him and braced for the rain. He stepped forward into it, straining to see anything in the wet haze.

Milo lead them to the perimeter fence. It was still shut and locked. Milo looked to Leon. "You ready?" Leon nodded. Milo gripped the handle, turned it, and swung the door open. He and Leon stepped back for a moment, then stood in the entrance way, guns poised and ready. Leon gripped the pistol as tightly as he could in the rain.

The two stood there, staring into the jungle. Leon suddenly heard a noise, a rustling of leaves and branches. Without changing his focus, he whispered to Milo. "You hear that?"

"Yeah..."

Leon squinted, trying to see through the rain. The rustling became louder, and closer.