FIVE YEARS BEFORE THE OUTBREAK...
Once midnight came, Ares and Atlas sneaked out of their room as Hermes lay fast asleep in bed. The hallways were as dark and dim as they were in the day thanks to the lack of windows, but fluorescent lights kept their paths visible as they ventured to the facility's garage. With the letter clutched in his hand, Ares stepped out of the room followed by a nervous Atlas.
"What do we do if they catch us?" Atlas whispered, shutting the door behind him.
"Sprog, do you have any idea who you're roommate is?" Ares replied with a prideful expression. "I was one of the Army's best hand-to-hand fighters in forever. If I didn't have a gun, I had my fists to finish the job. So don't worry, mate. You're safe with me."
The two of them tiptoed down the hallway, both of them on the lookout for guards. The halls were surprisingly empty. Ares expected a guard or two in position working on night shift, but it seemed like everyone in the facility was asleep. Well...everyone except the suppliers coming in.
Lights would hang from the wall several feet apart from each other, casting a dim white glow on the floor. Whatever exited the radius of visibility created by the light would find themselves shrouded in shadow once more until they made their way to the next one. Ares and Atlas continually went through the repeated process of entering the light before disappearing into the darkness of the hallway, determined to find the elevator.
After passing by a few rooms, the two reached a corner. Ares stopped Atlas and ordered him to back into the wall before doing the same. He slowly peaked his head around the corner to get a glimpse if the coast was clear. It was not.
Three guards carried the corpse of a younger test subject, about a year or two older than Atlas. His neck was caved in, as if someone crushed his trachea with a sledgehammer. His arms were twisted in frightening ways and blood seeped out of bruises scattered across his limbs. His head hung loosely off his shoulders and his face was pale. The scariest thing about his appearance was the fact his eyes were almost devoid of color, as if he had no pupils or irises.
"What the fuck?" Ares muttered.
"So Zeus really thinks this wanker was just too weak to handle the combat droids?" one of the guards said. "He won't admit that his faulty programming turns these machines into damn murderers?"
"I don't think he'll ever admit it," another guard replied. "Not that he cared about this boy's life anyway. He treated the complete destruction of his limbs like it was just a minor cut. And did you see the way he just watched him suffocate to death after the bot punched him in the throat? It was almost unsettling to look at how nonchalant he was throughout the whole skirmish."
"You thought that was disgusting?" a third guard chimed in. "You should've seen Hades. Zeus may have felt nothing, but Hades enjoyed the whole thing. I swear he was grinning from ear to ear as the boy died right in front of him."
"Probably thought his death would make room for the more experienced soldiers," the first one added. "Oh well. Poor lad. I'll mourn him for his family. I just wish there was a more honorable way to commemorate the boy than dumping his carcass down the garbage chute."
"What the fuck?" Atlas whispered. "This place has a garbage chute?"
One of the guards pulled open a slot, sliding out like an oven door. Ares couldn't see what was inside, but he could tell it was dark and deep. And that the boy's body would disappear into the darkness forever. His family would never find out what happened to him.
"All right," one of the guards said. "Dispose of him."
The guards lifted the corpse's legs up so that his head was facing diagonally down the chute. They slowly raised the body above the chute and placed him in head first. They pushed him in until his head completely disappeared into the opening, and the rest of his body slid into the chute like a delivered package. Once his foot had vanished from their view, the guards closed the slot.
"Here lies Janus, formally known as Robert Thaxton," one of the guards declared as he took his hat off in respect. "Mr. Thaxton has now become the first official death in the Ambrosia Project. May we prevent other subjects from meeting the same fate."
He put his hat back on, and they began making their way down the hall. However, the three of them, including a still-hiding Ares and Atlas, froze as screeching noises occurred within the depths of the garbage chute. The horrific sounds only grew more distant as the source seemed to retreat deeper down the chute, almost as if Robert Thaxton's corpse was the one emitting those discomforting sounds.
The screeching faded out with a thud, signaling the body's impact with the facility's lowest floor.
"What the hell was that?" one of the guards asked. "Was that Thaxton?"
"Bollocks," another guard replied. "He died seconds after his throat was crushed. Not even the Ambrosia could save him. Must've been rats."
"I don't remember rats emitting angry shrieks like a banshee."
"My mum told me the rodents here in the Forest of Bowland would frighten off unwanted visitors with noises like that to preserve peace with nature. So that means she was either right or she was smoking weed again."
"Whatever. Just head back to your quarters."
The three guards went their separate ways. Two of them continued further into the darkness of the hall, but one--the man with the pot-smoking mother--began making his way toward Ares and Atlas. Ares had to duck his head back around the corner to narrowly avoid being seen. Fortunately, the lack of lighting around his position worked as an advantage to keep him and Atlas hidden in shadow.
"What now?" Atlas whispered.
"Shut up," Ares quietly hissed, stuffing the letter into his pocket. "I'm gonna need to take him out."
The guard continued making his way down the hall, whistling a tune to himself as a sign that he wasn't aware of the people watching him. Once he was close enough, Ares jumped out from the corner and threw a punch, colliding with the guard's chin. He then wrapped his arm around his neck and pulled him into a chokehold, blocking the oxygen from entering the guard's lungs.
Atlas emerged from the corner and began pummeling the guard with punches, leaving several bruises and scratches on his face. However, Ares turned the guard away from Atlas to prevent him from receiving further harm since neither of them previously knew the man and had no reason to brutally harm him. To end things once and for all, Ares snapped the guard's neck and let him slip out of his grasp to the floor.
"What the hell?!" Atlas shrieked. "We weren't supposed to kill him!"
"We also weren't supposed to beat the shit out of him!" Ares retorted. "Arsehole!"
"Fuck you! We're only out here to deliver that stupid letter of yours! Killing this wanker was your doing!"
"Well if you care about him so much, then why don't you help me dump his body down the chute with that other poor bastard? Like those other guys said, there's no other way to fucking commemorate him!"
Atlas clenched his fists in his anger, seemingly seconds away from giving Ares what was coming to him. He was only able to calm himself down when he realized not only was this man probably hurting on the inside due to his separation from his daughter, he also knew that Ares could kick his arse and break him down before he could even plead for mercy. In fact, he only held back out of fear rather than sympathy.
"Fine," Atlas replied bluntly. "But no more killing tonight please."
Ares snatched the guard's baton and gun from his body before helping Atlas dump him down the chute. Then they went on with their night.
Now that the corridors were clear, they calmly made their way to the elevator. Ares pressed the down button and the two of them waited for the doors to open up. Once it did, they stepped in and pressed the first button, conveniently labeled Garage, Mess Hall, Training Center.
The elevator began its descent.
"So how are you planning on getting your letter to Sarah?" Atlas asked.
"Well..." Ares explained. "I feel like the deliverymen will show more sympathy than our colleagues here. Maybe if I can convince them to send mail from a sorrowful father to his lonely daughter, they'll feel bad and do it for me."
"So what you're saying is you don't have a plan?"
"Of course I do."
"It seems like a retarded one. I mean what are you gonna do if it doesn't go well?"
"I also thought of sneaking into one of the delivery trucks and taping the letter to one of the packages. Once someone in Lancaster finds it, they can look at the address and--"
The elevator doors opened with a ding. And multiple armed guards awaited them.
"FUCK!" the two of them shouted in unison.
The guards aimed their guns at the two test subjects.
"Well that didn't help," Atlas remarked.
"Put your hands up!" the guard directly in front of them shouted. "Now!"
"Nah, I'm good, mate," Ares replied nonchalantly. Then the chaos unfolded.
He and Atlas burst out running, slamming into and punching the guards without a care of getting shot. Anytime a gun appeared in front of their faces, they casually knocked them out of the way like toys and continued throwing punches once the guards were distracted. Ares was able to knock a few guards to the floor while Atlas was mostly able to dodge them.
In the middle of the fight, Ares unsheathed the baton he stole from the guard at the garbage chute and began swinging in every direction, not even caring about what the baton made contact with. The guards would fall back in disorientation and Ares would keep swinging without loss of stamina. He only cared about making way his way out of the chaos toward the facility's garage. He even forgot about Atlas for a few seconds.
Then the memory of Atlas hit him like a ton of bricks. Or in this case, Atlas himself hit him since he crashed down on top of Ares, both of them crashing to the floor. Normally they would've stayed and scolded each other for their stupidity, but they crawled out of the chaos and sprinted down a new hall, following the signs leading toward the garage.
"Why didn't you use your gun?" Atlas asked.
"Because they would've started using their guns," Ares replied. "Either we kill one of them or all of them kill us. Pick your poison, lad."
"But still! You used a baton! That's like taking a twig to a sword fight!"
"And yet we still made it out. Focus on the positive for once."
A sign was visible at the end of the hallway, labeled with the word Garage marked by an arrow aiming left. There was only one place to turn at the end of the hallway, and the sounds of vehicles backing up made it joyfully obvious they were almost there.
"Are we at the car park yet?" Atlas shouted, looking back to see the guards in the distance. "Feels like we've been running for ages."
"Nah," Ares replied. "The stuff we've been doing lately can probably take up a few paragraphs in a book."
"Did you just break the fourth wall?"
The two of them turned left and found what they were looking for. Large supply trucks emerged in and out of the garage area, the wide doors open to the world outside. Artemis and several other guards were scattered around the area, most of them carrying clipboards. Boxes and crates were transported around the room with dollies, some dropped off in trucks and others left in the corners of the garage.
"Artemis!" Ares yelled.
Atlas clenched his teeth in panic. "What the hell are you doing?! We're gonna get caught!"
Artemis looked back and waved with a friendly smile. "Hello, gents! Y'know, you two are supposed to be in your quarters. No sneaking out in the middle of the night."
"I know, miss," Ares explained. "But I heard you were heading to Lancaster to resupply." He pulled out the letter from his pocket and held it in front of her. "I was wondering if--"
The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, and Ares looked back to see Atlas kneeling on the ground with a round bloody wound in his thigh. He clenched his leg in pain, cursing to make it go away. However, another gunshot followed, this time striking Ares in the back underneath his shoulder blade.
Two more shots rang out, one digging into Atlas's shoulder blade and the other penetrating Ares's thigh, repeating their injuries in reverse. Both of them collapsed to the floor, drops of blood pelting the floor. Every set of eyes in the room were set on them and the firearm-wielding guards standing behind them in the hallway.
"Who told you to shoot?!" Artemis shouted.
"Orders, miss," one of the guards replied. "Zeus and Hades ordered us to kill any escapees on sight."
"So you decide to shoot at the least vital parts of their bodies?! You're hurting them, not putting them out of your misery!"
The guards emerged from the hall, still aiming their guns at Ares and Atlas. Both of them lay on the ground convulsing in pain. Ares rolled over so he faced the ceiling, but the pressure of the floor against his back didn't help get rid of the pain in his shoulder. One hand was covering the wound in his leg and the other was clenching his letter with a grip of steel.
"Put your weapons down, damn it!" Artemis shouted again. She slowly made her way toward Ares and bent down to his level to speak. "I apologize for your injuries, Ares. The Ambrosia should eventually remove the bullets from your body."
"Are you sure?" Ares asked, unsurprisingly angry. "Because right now, I'm not feeling very fucking good!"
"I'm very sorry, sir." Artemis glanced back at the guards. "Why don't you bastards make yourselves useful and escort them back to their rooms? Maybe you can prove than you can do your job without hurting people."
Two of the guards hoisted Atlas from his arms and lifted him up. He continued to mutter swears under his breath as blood seeped down his back and his leg. One of the bullets proceeded to slide out of the wound in his leg like an earthworm through dirt, slithering out until it plopped down to the floor with a clink.
Other guards appeared and repeated the same process with Ares, this time more brutal. One man punched him in the stomach to teach him a lesson for the incident near the elevator before throwing another one, this time colliding with his cheek.
"Will you just fuck off and take them back?!" Artemis shouted. "You don't need to act like a bunch of pricks."
"Save your complaints for Zeus," one of the guards replied back. "He gives the orders here, not you."
"Wait!" Ares exclaimed, jerking up from his limp position. He sat up and held out the letter, the guards still preventing most of the movement in his arms. "Miss Artemis, I need you to do something for me. Please!"
"You have less power than she does," the guard replied for him. "Now come along."
As the guards proceeded to drag Ares and Atlas across the floor, Ares threw the letter toward Artemis. Since he didn't crumple it into a ball, the paper lazily floated to the floor and landed on a small smudge of blood left behind by his wound. Artemis approached the piece of paper and picked it up.
"Please, Artemis!" Ares exclaimed, nearly on the verge of tears as he slowly drifted away from her. "That's for my daughter Sarah! She's alone in Lancaster! She needs to know that her father still loves her and she mustn't lose hope!"
"Ares..." Artemis spoke quietly.
Ares and Atlas were already approaching the exit, seconds away from disappearing into the hallway. "Please, Artemis!" Ares continued. "She's all I have left!"
The two finally disappeared around the corner, Ares's cries for help still sounding throughout the corridor. Artemis was frozen in place, glancing down at the red streaks left behind from their wounds. She then studied the letter, gaining a better understanding of the heartbroken fatherly soldier she only knew as Ares.
One of the deliverymen approached her from behind. "Excuse me, miss. We're ready to make our way to Lancaster. Are there any additional materials you'd like to request bringing back or sending?"
Artemis slowly turned to the deliveryman, grasping the letter so hard she was partially crumpling it.
"Miss?"
She slowly handed the letter to the man, a look of confusion forming on his face.
"Take this with you," she said. "Follow the address and give it to the little girl who lives there. Tell her that her daddy loves her very much."
"As you wish. Anything else, miss?"
"Tell her to never look for him. She will be in mortal danger if she ever finds out where he is."