T-Plus 1

Oliver's legs burned and pulsed with pain. They trembled and spasmed, and he wobbled midstep. He caught himself on the wall, muffling his groans of pain. Not even his usual overexertion was this bad. This felt closer to bee stings covering both of his legs or, worse, acid burns. He'd collapse if he wasn't forcing himself to move.

He gritted his teeth and followed Toast at a slower pace. They skidded around the bend and halted. Their flashlights lit up more than enough of the hallway for their interest, way more than Oliver wanted to know, actually. He didn’t think they’d have to deal with more of them this soon, but unfortunately it wasn’t his eyes that were injured. Double-taking, they ran back the way they came. Coming up beside them was someone wearing the same uniform as Oliver accompanied by a swarm of their new neighbors.

“Mr. Hensley! Help!” the new face shouted.

“Joey! What the fuck did you do?”

“I don't know!”

“That's a lot of aliens!” Toast laughed as they ran.

“Why don't you go make friends with them then?” Oliver retorted.

Toast glanced over his shoulder.

“I don't think we have to. They seem to like us!”

They skidded around another corner, and the lights from the Elevator blessed their eyes and revealed their pursuers in full grandeur. Behind them, a pack of slugs, too many to count in the dark, surged toward them. From what glimpses Oliver could see before they ran, there were even more around the corner.

“What should we do?” Joey asked.

“Feed you to them!” Oliver spat at the intern technician.

“What did I do?” he protested.

“Exist!”

“I got this!” Toast said as they passed through the Elevator's light.

There were about ten of them, blobbed and melded into each other as they chased after the three humans. Oliver nodded, grabbing the new kid by the wrist and pulling ahead. He didn't look back.

“Will Dr. Vaughn be alright?” Joey asked, looking over his shoulder.

“I trust him more than you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means keep up, dumbass!”

The pain in Oliver's legs intensified as he cursed the young man beside him out. The more he cursed, the more they hurt. The pain continued to coarse through his legs, extending further than his knees. He huffed as they turned another corner, the straps of his backpack weighing heavier on his shoulders.

“Are you okay, Mr. Hensley?”

“Shut up and keep running, Joey.”

They made the final sprint for his room. He slapped his card, forcing the door open, and pushed Joey in first. He turned to check on Toast, only to see he was running towards him, two creatures in tow.

Toast made a loop around them. He jeered and dodged away from their attempts to trip him. After a moment, he circled them again before running towards the open door. Oliver closed it behind him.

“We got trouble, guys,” Toast announced. “There are more aliens.”

“No,” Oliver breathed as he sank to the floor with a thud. “Really?”

Grimacing, he stretched his legs out. His pants were stained from the inside out. So his bad feeling wasn’t just a bad feeling. He rolled them up to see blood seeping through the bandages, the original crisp white dyed in red. Instantly, Emerson was hovering over him, the first-aid kit in her hands.

“What happened?” she asked.

“That's a good question.”

He threw a glare at the collapsed, chest heaving intern on the other side of the room.

“Joey,” he fired. “What happened?”

“What? What did I do?”

“Boy-”

“I got it! I got it!”

Joey sat up, rubbing the back of his ginger head. He frowned, leaning to and fro in spot.

“Where should I start?”

“From the beginning.”

“Chief sent me with Mr. Jiang since you had gone to get semiconductors. Told me that I should help some instead of just watching all the time. Anne called for evac, but Dr. Vaughn didn't want to leave even after everyone left and Mr. Kuznetsov came in...”

Oliver and Emerson stared at Toast, who tilted his head questioningly. Of course Toast wasn't “putting things up”. He should've known that was too tame for him. The technician rolled his eyes.

He winced the next moment, hissing in pain as Emerson finished unwrapping his legs. The cold air touched the open wound, and the stinging intensified into hellfire. She dragged the flashlight beam over it, using the other hand to dig around in the first-aid kit. She fished out the remaining gauze, dumped more saline water to clear the blood (and cause him to twist in pain), and then proceeded to wrap up his legs again. Oliver bear-hugged his backpack, warping its form with his fingers as he rocked back and forth. Emerson glanced at him, patting his knee in comfort through the process.

“... I lost Dr. Vaughn and Ms. Bacon in the mess.”

“So? How'd they find you?” Emerson asked, fastening the ends of Oliver’s new bandages.

The intern poked his index fingers together, averting his gaze away from theirs.

“Spit it out.”

“Well, I hid in the Elevator security room first, but it’s not really comfortable in there, you know? I really needed to take a piss, and there weren’t any alien things outside anymore, so I went to the nearest restroom...”

“And you ran into them?”

“Yeah...”

“Dumbass,” Oliver sighed, slapping his palm to his forehead.

“So, uh, do you know if...?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t relieve yourself here,” Emerson said flatly, pointing in the direction of the open bathroom.

Released from his shackles, Joey booked it for the door, slamming it shut behind him. Adjusting his sitting position to keep his legs out of harm’s way, Oliver opened his backpack full of wares and laid them out on the table. Out came the batteries, which he slotted into their respective flashlights, leaving the extras for Emerson to store somewhere. Following them was the water heater, the heaviest bit in his pack.

Emerson’s eyes sparkled at the discovery, and she grabbed it right out of his hands. Before he could even open his mouth, she’d flipped it over, uncovered the flap, and slapped some batteries in. She set it upright on the table, and went to rummage on his shelves for his hidden stash of instant coffee. Toast was right beside her, grabbing his mugs from another cabinet and setting them on the table. Oliver watched from his seat on the bed.

They already made themselves at home, huh, he thought.

Joey left the restroom, and Toast took his place, running in with the water pot to acquire some tap water. When it came to work matters, Toast and Emerson were like cats and dogs, but apparently they agreed on one thing.

The intern crept over to where he sat, and squatted down beside him. He watched the two lab coat wearers operate the water heater.

“Uh, sir? What’s going on?”

“Coffee addicts.”

Oliver turned to observe the intern now that everything had settled for the moment. The young man was wearing the familiar blue with white stripes, the same technician uniform he still had on. The front was unbuttoned, so the black shirt representing his inner love for space, or so he said (Oliver doubted otherwise.), was obvious. A bright green bandanna held back the boy’s ginger fringe, revealing the freckles dotting his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

“You were in Sector Six. You didn’t think to stop by your room?” Oliver asked.

Joey, in his by now signature got-caught-in-an-awkward-moment expression, choked out a cough.

“Ah, well, you wouldn’t believe this, sir, but uh, well, my ID got eaten.”

“I can’t help but think that you’re giving me the age old ‘my dog ate my homework’ excuse.”

“But it’s true!”

The intern grabbed Oliver’s shoulder, the pleading evident in his words.

“One of those alien things back there ate it!”

Oliver stared at the boy. He didn’t flinch. Guess the intern wasn’t lying this time. He turned away from Joey with a sigh.

“You had anything useful in your room?”

“No, sir. Although, one of my roommates might’ve.”

“Roommates? Oh, you’re in a quad.”

“Yeah, are we gonna break in, sir?”

“There's no point. You interns wouldn't have anything we'd need.”

“What’re we going to do now then, sir?”

Oliver sighed, his eyes glancing at the door. They just cleared the hallway earlier, and now there were more invaders wandering outside. He glanced at the organized piles Emerson had sorted and set by the foot of the shelves: a small assortment of ramen packs beside one or two open chip bags, a now gauze-less first-aid kit, and a pile of towels. Dirty towels and clothes, covered in blood and slime goop and chip stains, were thrown in his bathroom. He took a mental headcount: four people in a one person bedroom. He didn’t have enough for three, much less another blabbermouth like this intern beside him.

“We were on our way to grab blankets and scout out the area,” Oliver said. “But it looks like we’ll need to get some food and another med-kit instead.”

“How’re we gonna get there?” Joey asked.

“Food? Did I hear food?”

Toast and Emerson, their addictions satiated, although their mugs were still in hand, came to join their meeting.

“We need to make a run up to the third floor.”

He turned to Emerson.

“If we go, I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

She tilted her head, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I’m going with you this time.”

“Are you sure?”

“You're getting medical supplies, and you're leaving the doctor behind?”

Oliver opened his mouth, and then promptly closed it again. Couldn’t argue with her there.

“Fine. Once we get to the third floor, we’ll split into pairs. The less time we spend away from those things the better. One of you goes with Emerson to the clinic’s supply closet. The other will be with me.”

“Third floor? Aren’t the Hospital and Cafeteria on the second floor?”

“The second floor’s blocked, so this is easier. We’ll have to raid the Engineering Bay’s hidden stash of snacks for now, and figure out an easier way to the Cafeteria later.”

Joey’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward.

“You mean the one with the soda pops from Earth?”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna come with you, sir!” Joey said, raising his arm.

“Alright, we haven’t even left yet. Calm down.”

“Yes, sir.”

The intern sat right back down, practically vibrating with excitement. Oliver shook his head, turning to the other two.

“Are you okay with this?”

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

“Whatever works,” Emerson affirmed.

“I'm not the one with the problem!” Toast said.

“Okay, so now how do we get up there?”

“The only way up is the stairs. But...,” Oliver paused. “We won't know what's up there once we leave this floor.”

“Can’t be worse than what’s wandering outside your door,” Emerson shrugged.

“Leave the aliens to me!” Toast agreed, puffing out his the bright flamingo on his chest.

“Then let’s go. The faster the better.”

Emerson held her hand out for them to wait, a stern look on her face.

“We’re not going anywhere right now. The supplies upstairs nor the slimes are going anywhere.”

“But the food on our floor is.”

“You’ve already pushed your legs far enough for today,” she retorted. “If it wasn’t for our lack of supplies, I wouldn’t even agree with you coming with us.”

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“Are you going to argue with me?”

Even Toast and Joey were edging away. The pang coming from Oliver’s legs hadn’t subsided, much less gone away during their conversation. Honestly, another nap was probably in order. Taking his silence as agreement, Emerson only nodded, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Good. We leave tomorrow then.”

***