The echo of exploding mini-ex shepherded them down the dim corridor. Dan held her hand as they ran, helping hold her upright as techs and engineers pushed past in their panic to escape. Screams of fear and pain radiated all around her. Kamala glanced over her shoulder as she ran. She expected the terrorist to appear behind her at any second, the barrel of his gun pointing square at her back.

“Keep running!”

“What’s happening?” she sobbed aloud. “Why is this happening to us?”

Dan pulled harder, dragging her along the corridor. “We can escape down here. There’s another exit to the surface in the logistics building.”

The gunfire slowed to a few sporadic bursts until it went silent altogether.

“Is it over?”

Dan didn’t change pace. “Leave it to the professionals to sort out. I’m getting out of here,” he said, panting.

A fire door blocked the path ahead, slowing the avalanche of fleeing staff as they filed through, pushing against the heavy doors. Dan came to a sudden stop. Kamala, still watching her tail, ran into him and tripped. She tried to protect herself and twisted the wrong way. Kamala hit the ground, wrenching her knee from its socket. Red hot pain exploded down her leg then dissipated to a dull memory as her chemical delivery system engaged and blocked the sensation. She stared at the ceiling, confused as she tried to process what was happening to her.

“Holy shit, Kamala! Your legs bent out sideways!” exclaimed Dan as he dropped to his knees, hands hovering uselessly above her.

“I can’t feel anything in this leg,” she replied, pointing a finger. “Is it bad?”

Dan’s whole body shook as his stress threatened to crescendo. “It could be dislocated. Maybe broken. I don’t know. I’m a bio-engineer, not a doctor…”

“Could you try and put it back in? It just feels weird.”

“Are you sure? I could make it worse…” he replied.

“I’m all doped up. Can’t feel anything. Just do it.”

Dan gingerly picked up her lower leg and rotated until it was straight then pulled and pushed with several violent motions. Kamala felt an unnatural grinding within the socket and a pressure which wouldn’t relent. Thank god for the pain killers.

“Is that working?” he asked.

Kamala shook her head. “I still can’t move it.”

“Look, you’ve probably torn all the muscle around the socket if it is dislocated. You’re not going to walk anytime soon…” started Dan, laying her leg down. A loud explosion cut him off. Dan covered his head and ducked to the floor. “The hell was that?”

The yelling beyond the fire door grew louder. Frightened staff backed up, threatening to crush her.

“Hey! Look out!” shouted Dan, covering her leg with his body.

Three enormous soldiers waded through the milling staff, pushing them out of the way with their hands or the side of their rifles.

“Move it, sheep! Out of our way!” bellowed the leader.

They filed past Dan and Kamala, weapons ready and walking quickly with their long-legged stride.

“What’s going on back there?” asked Dan, his body covering Kamala’s leg.

The Programmed ignored him and marched on in the direction of the explosions. The fleeing staff pushed in the opposite direction, the industrious using the soldier’s wake to get ahead.

Dan snarled at their backs. “I’ve never liked the Programmed. They’re all up themselves. Superiority complexes and aggressive Chad behaviour, the lot of ‘em,” he whispered. He turned back to Kamala. “Do you think you could walk?”

Kamala gripped his hand. She felt tears form in her eyes at thought of being left alone. “I don’t know…”

“It will be ok,” reassured Dan. He sat up and cupped a hand to his mouth. “A little help here!” he shouted.

The remaining staff in the corridor ran past them, eyes forward in shame and overwhelming fear.

“Help us!” shouted Dan, anger straining his voice.

“Fuck it. Get me up,” sighed Kamala, leaning up and offering him a hand.

Dan leant down and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Ok. On three. Two. One…”

He lifted as she pushed with her good leg. For some reason, she braced herself for pain, only to be confronted by numbness and the grinding of the socket.

“Don’t put any weight on that knee,” warned Dan.

Kamala hopped on her good leg, dragging the other behind her as Dan supported her weight. They forced their way through the fire doors. “Can you believe this shit?”

“They’re scared. People abandon all logic and any memory of manners when afraid for their lives,” said Dan.

“No. Who could be attacking us?” asked Kamala. “There has been so much bloodshed lately. Those clones waking up… Billy or whatever his fucking name was going off reservation… Now a full-blown invasion?”

Dan grunted. “Corporate espionage slash terrorism?”

“What company would resort to actual violence?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Look around you, Shan. We have a private army at our beck and call to keep the stationary from going missing? It’s to keep that shit downstairs all for us. It’s to keep the Goose and his babies under control and the baddies away from the goods.”

Kamala shook her head. “I guess I didn’t think it was possible in this day and age. You hear of things happening in Europe and Asia, but I always chalk it up to Khalist cells operating on their own. Perhaps I was naïve enough to think I’d never be affected.”

“Well, it usually happens to those at the top. Keep your head down and you won’t get cut like a tall poppy. You’re still new. Stick around a couple more years and you’ll hear some shit, I guarantee. Maybe ninety per cent is wrong, but that ten will still make your balls shrink.”

“To tell the truth, I don’t think I’ll be sticking around after this, Dan.”

“I don’t blame you. Maybe I won’t either.”

“We’ve got to survive first,”

“Don’t remind me.”

Exploding mini-ex and the growl of automatic fire drowned out her forced laughter. The terrifying sounds roared close by in the corridor behind them. Kamala almost fell to the floor in shock, but Dan somehow kept her upright. He dragged her broken body roughly along the floor, his screams counter point to her own high-pitched wailing. The tight walls echoed with the noise of combat. The crack and boom of the guns rung in her ears like drums, rattling her brain until she gave way to the gibbous call of uncontrollable fear. She knotted her fingers on Dan’s shirt in a death grip, believing that if he decided to abandon her, she would surely die. She heard a blood curdling shriek behind them, and the guns went silent.

Dan’s scream became a sob. “Are they behind us?”

“They were Pros,” she cried. “Fucking Pros! Who are these people?”

“I don’t want to know…”

The hall curved around a bend. Markings on the wall showed they were now entering the logistics facility. A constructed barricade made of sandbags partially blocked the way. Programmed guards sat behind the barrier, their long barrelled auto-cannons pointing at Kamala and Dan. A wide maintenance lift lay on the wall behind the Pros at a junction that split left and right. An officer stood and waved them on.

“He’s right behind you! Get over here!” she said.

Kamala sobbed in relief. These soldiers would protect them. As she and Dan hobbled closer, she heard shouting behind the officer.

“To your left and up the stairs to the exit,” said the officer turning her head to see what the commotion was.

The Pro’s stationed beyond the barricade pointed their cannons at the elevator doors and retreated to a safe firing distance.

“What the fuck is going on?” whispered Dan.

“I don’t fucking know…” moaned Kamala as her sense of foreboding sunk to new lows.

“Who activated the lifts? Call command and get an answer!”

The LED display flashed an ascending red arrow.

“Shit! It’s coming up! At the door! At the door!” railed the Officer. “Hold fire until identity is confirmed!”

Dan and Kamala both froze as the palpable fear from the Programmed showed that whatever was coming up that elevator was worse than what was behind them. All eyes seemed to be drawn to the LED indicator light above the stainless-steel frame.

A slow clunking noise reverberated down the corridor. Kamala turned her head. “Holy shit.”

A tall, grotesque creature covered in an alien carapace stumbled toward them, a long sword clutched in both hands. The creature had deep crimson wounds along its whole body, charred and cracked from the mini-ex. The left side of its chest had melted away in places exposing pulsing, acid burnt organs beneath. Blood dripped from the seams of its segmented armour, painting its lower half in vibrant red. A split upon its bone head revealed a brown human eye. The haunted eye flickered from her to the armed barricade behind her.

“Get down,” rasped the creature.

As he spoke, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

“Boo,” said a young man.

The hall erupted in fire and fury.