In the glare of the flashing warning light I could just make out the numbers on the keypad’s faintly pulsing LED readout. Five minutes till decontamination cycle. 4:59, 4:58, 4:57…
“Graham, find a way to cut the power to the decon system. Pine, find the control room. Should also be a back-up panel off-site – -” 4:53…
Graham interrupted me: “Is this — Is the goddamned black flu in there?
“Lieutenant Graham, I gave an order.” 4:49…
“Sir, a system failure’s gonna trigger the decon cycle anyway. Let that shit burn!”
“Wait — is that why we’re here, sir?” Pine demanded. “What are you planning? Did Slater know about it, too? Haines?”
“Oh god,” Graham said, “what if it’s already leaked out?”
“Stow that shit.” Oswald screamed. He stepped between me and Pine, his hand on his sidearm. “Graham, cut the fucking power.”
“Fuck you, ma–,” Graham said. Oswald shot him in the face before he got the last word completely out.
Pine went for his weapon. They all went for them. I moved for the hole in the false wall, but there was gunfire out in the lobby, too. We were pinned down. I was pinned down.
The overhead lights cut out.
The warning light flashed faster.
4:38, 4:37, 4:36, 4:35…
