Faust

Extra chapter: Extraction

"Need a hand?" Vel asks with a faint smile. Her leather clad right hand unholsters a H&K .40 with a silencer and rail light on while extending her left to me.

         "I'm good .... Let's get the fuck out of here."
I force my leg to stand and take a step towards the fire exit at the west of the courtyard. Concrete walls around us echos more shouting of foreign language and a hoarse scream erupts from the fifth-floor window with a red climbing rope attached followed by high-pitched gibberish.

I limp forward as fast as possible but every stretch of muscle inserts a new pain into my joints and both knees. Then, at the edge of my sight, I saw a group on the second floor running past the window. One of them takes a glance at the courtyard. All of a sudden, the pain is indifferent.

"Second floor. East!"
I shut and picked up the pace. Vel closed her left eye, her right arm stretched into a line and rapid fire towards the said position.

A veil of smoke erupted from the muzzle while the slide racks back and forth in a blur of motion. She wasn't aiming at the targets inside but the trail of glass windows to create as much disruption while rushing towards the west part of the compound for cover.

The cleaner put her left hand on my shoulder as her sight fixated on the entrance to the west corridor. While giving me cover, I found the last stretch of the planned route.

Pytor wasn't bullshitting me with the floor plan he draw. At the end of the hallway by the stairs is a sturdy metal door gathering dust, gradually turing into part of the wall. The lever won't budge unless the fire alarm is issued.

           Just so fucking happens, three steps to the left, by the staircase there's a big red button in plastic lid filled with ashes on top. With the sign 'Only to be used in emergency.' on top.

           Surely we fit the bill.

           I pull the lid and press the button. A faint vibration under my thumb rumbles then the building came to life.

An unattended broadcasting system all over the apartment building roars distorted horns with screeching statics intertwined on both notes. And the fire door next to me is unlocked with a flat beep.

           She subtly frowns at the shrill screams as she enters the fire escape route while I find appreciation in having tinnitus.

           Inside the escape route, a dense scent of mold and uncirculated air slowly poisoned my lungs. Vel opens the flashlight attached to her pistol. Sturdily pointing at the pitch-black corridor up ahead while maintaining the pacing.

The place used to be an apartment building filled with foreign laborer who got a bit more in their pocket to not end up in Parral. But since the southern region was differentiated as designated state houses. Most of them moved out for lower rent and a shorter drive to the city. A couple of months ago, the hobos and the outcasts still lingering around here were either driven out or thrown off the building by the Bulgarians. They occupied the ghost town.

My legs are finally reconnecting to neurons as the numbness wears off, but the bones still hurt like hell. Good thing according to Pytor the fire exits are supposedly led straight to the west fences, where we planned for Vix to ready the car on stand-by.

The concentrated light cut a clear path amidst the damp darkness. Vel's hard booties clack against the ground the sound echoes by the closed walls. While moving forward we can occasionally still hear the horns going off and Bulgarian's shutting commends at each other.