[Occam's Razor] [Occam's Razor] Occam's Razor: The Colorado Incident

Spins around startled and finally realizes that she still had company. Trixie finally stops hitting her head and smiles sheepishly at Rys saying "sorry old habits die hard, you know?" She finally gets a good look at what's in the vials and goes pale and quietly asks "is that what I think it is?"


She puts an unsteady hand on the wall trying to breathe. "How have you been? It's been awhile hasn't it?" She looks past Rys and sees a doorway there too and heads for it curious as to where it led to.


"Where does this go to?" She asks curious while pointing at the door.
 
"Trixie?!" She cries in shock, then gasps setting the vials down and grabs Trixie's arm. "You really don't want to go in there sugarplum," she says with a frown, then pulls her sister into a hug and can't help but start crying.


"I-I though for sure the beasts got you!" She cries holding onto Trixie tightly as she couldn't stop sobbing. "I tried to go back home to look for you, but once they'd transported me to Colorado they wouldn't let me go back," she sobs.


Finally, someone she knew, someone she loved. She had thought they'd all died. She couldn't properly express how happy she was at all.
 
She wraps her little sister into a hug and holds on tight. "I've been looking for you, ever since you couldn't come back home" her eyes start to tear up as she tried not to cry. "Ever since mom and dad found out you couldn't come back home, they slowly grew very sick. They passed away a few short weeks later." The dam of tears just over flow as her tears come spilling out across her cheeks.


"I'm just so happy, that you're alive still. I've been worried sick about you" she sobs almost unaudible. After a couple minutes, her arms lose some strength as does her legs. "Sis? I feel so weak. Why do I feel so weak?"


Her legs unable to hold her weight anymore, she starts to sag against her little sister whom is holding her up. Stutters "I- I need to sit down. Is there someplace we can do that"
 
Rys frowns and helps her sit against the wall. She then turns on the comms device she took from Bianca. "Hey, doctor? Trixie's not doin' so good," she says frowning. She placed a hand on Trixie's forehead feeling for a fever.


Nidelia gasps. She couldn't leave the room. She checked the armory and spoke over the loud speaker. "Malcom, we had someone wake up, I guided her to Rys, but she's collapsed and isn't looking so good, I need out of here now!" She cries desperately.
 
Trixie leans her head against the wall. She looks at her sister with tear filled eyes. "What's happening to me?" She asks quietly, then starts to nod off. "I feel so sleepy, can I go to sleep for a bit?"


Getting a wrong feeling about herself she shakes her head no saying " no I can't go to sleep, I might not ever wake up again if I do." She tries to get herself to stand up, so she can stay awake and alert.


She once again looks at her sister sadly "help me up? I feel a strong pull to sleep. But I'm afraid I'll never wake up again if I do. I need to get moving around to stay alert" she once again claws at the wall to try and get up.
 
Nadia followed LtColonel Deveontess as he headed elsewhere. She listened to what he had to say and understood that the convict managed to survive on his own, but that didn't really change her feelings about this man. In her eyes it was simply that the good people weren't equipped to handle a dangerous situation on their own and died due to lack of training, whereas the convict was well versed in bad situations and was clearly capable of handling himself in a bad situation. She'd try to hold her tongue for now and not do anything rash until she felt that it became necessary. She liked the fact that the LC had attempt to rescue the civilians, and it was a shame that it may have ended up for naught since they were unable to keep themselves safe. She hoped that this operation would go smoothly, because she wasn't quite sure who their enemy was or what it was that seemed to be killing people off, but for now she'd follow the LC and probably get some answers. She stepped inside, "So what exactly is the nature of our enemy and how many of them are there?" she asked as she stepped passed him.
 
Alexander had just finished gathering everything useful, filling up two long Duffel bags, one with the weapons and the other with their ammunition. He had stopped briefly to retrieve a roll of duct tape and a sharpie, labeling the clips and magazines of various gun models, as well as their respective ammo grade. He figured that he and the Lieutenant Colonel, and maybe the new member of their group, could eyeball it... But the civilians? They probably needed as much help as they could get... He went a head and labeled the guns as well along with the type of ammunition it took.


After he finished, which did take a bit of time though he wrote as fast as he could without being sloppy, he heaved himself up, nearly falling over from the weight of the bag. "JEEZUS CHROIST!" He 'gently' let go of the heavy bags, prefering to keep his arms rather than his pride.


After a brief moment of deliberation, Woods declared to himself that the situation was dire enough to drag the bags, as he no longer had the means of calling in a hel-evac to retrieve the weapons. So he did, just managing to get them into the pod. He stretched, groaning as he did so, then smacked the close button on the pods console. He shrugged, noticing he was again alone, and that all the bulkheads were shut, figuring he should retrieve his own sack, then make his way (preferably with a bit of directional help, being one of the oddballs of the male species, perfectly willing to stop and ask for directions.) to the control center. He was certain he could recall the path, but from the look of things, it had been a while.


He paused momentarily at an open locker, grabbing a few pairs of fatigues. He looked in bad shape from that goo-splatter he'd received 'cause the Lieutenant Colonel seemed a little trigger happy, and not overly fond of vocal warnings, he couldn't imagine what the civs looked like. He just hoped that, should the Lt.Col ever get his hands on any of grenades he'd found, he had the good sense to shout 'fire in the hole' BEFORE Woods moved to get into a better position near the enemy.


He went on to collect his personal Duffel bag, stuffed to the brim with standard issue Ranger gear, as well as a few choice goodies he'd found in the lockers. Better to have them relatively on hand rather than facing the need to run all the way back here to get 'em. He moved on to find his way to the Central Command Center, though quickly found himself lost.


He tapped his commlink, "This is Captain Alexander Woods requesting directions to the CCC. I seem to have been left behind."
 
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Malcom paused mid step, he glanced at the woman, turning to her, he said, "Staff Sergent, The enemy is a random, unthinking beast, it keeps coming at us because it's hungry, As for numbers..." He shrugged, "We thought we knew at first... but everything keeps changing, more of them keep appearing..." As they both would have passed by Rys, and the dead creature from before, Nadia would have seen the dead beast laying on the floor, evidence of the fight all over the place, "I killed the one back in the hall with the help of Jace, and our doctor Nidelia. I was well enough equipped to kill a platoon without taking a scratch, and we barely survived that thing, it was... like it was laughing at us... right up until the end..." he shook his head, still shaken from the experience, "Killing a man is one thing Staff Sergent, But these beasts... They take pleasure in the dieing..."


Malcom and Nadia would reach the armory so he tapped the door's control open wondering where in the world the resident convict was. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, and dressed his weapons down, setting them on the central work table he removed both of the combat knives, all four of the pistols he'd ended up with, each and the rail gun. He looked to Nadia, "Come on in, clean up what you have if you need to." He began breaking down one of the handguns, pulling a crate out from beneath the table, he grabbed up the necessary supplies to clean the barrel and check the alignment. As was typical, he spent hours maintaining his own weapons, and he had dismantled, and checked the first pistol in under a minute, he set the empty clip aside with a sigh, "Too little ammo, Too many targets..."


When the captain's voice echoed over his comm, he tapped it mechanically, responding, "Captain, Head down the hall away from the mess we left, take your first right, there's going to be another hallway, and a door opposite you, go up the stairs behind that door. You'll come out in another hallway. Take the first set of doors you find, It'll take you through a laboratory, when you get through it to the other side, turn left, then the Central Command will be directly ahead, You'll run into a locked door, comm me when your there and I'll let you in. Double time it though, our good doctor has patients to get to." He tapped his comm again, changing the channel, "Nidelia, It's Malcom, I'm sending Captain Wood's to relive you. When he gets there you can head down to your patient." He sighed shaking his head as he turned off his comm again, He looked to Nadia, "So tell me, Were you briefed on the Long Walk?"
 
Nidelia growled. "He better hurry up!" She snapped. She was frustrated, that girl was on the ground sweating like a stuck pig and she couldn't even get out to take care of it without being "relieved".


Rys quickly helped her stand up. " Goddammit where the hells that da**** doctor at?!" She yells rather loudly with her comms on.
 
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As she is helped up, she coughs uncontrollably to expel the accidental inhaling of saliva while leaning heavily on Rys. "I don't want to die" she says in sobs.


She looks down at her hand to see that it is shaking uncontrollably. She clenches her hand in fist to try and stop the shaking, while noticing that her palms feel incredibly sweaty, feeling as if she is going to drop her knife that is still in her hand.


Giving Rys a sideways glance she says quietly "take my knife please. I don't want to lose it, to those terrible creatures." Her eyes widen as she starts hyperventilating, panicking she shouts "I CAN'T BREATHE! AND I'M CRAVING SOMETHING SWEET! WHERE IS THE FREAKING CHOCOLATE?!"
 
Jace made his way back to the armory, pressing his hand against the panel as before. Of course this time, the door actually opened, which surprised Jace slightly as it had all but told him to 'get bent' before with the word denied. For those inside of the armory, the most awkward and horrific sight would fill their eyes. A man in nothing but a towel standing five feet and eleven inches tall weighing two hundred and EIGHTY pounds, though not too far off of Malcom's predicted weight for him, would walk through the door; His scars running even over his chest, belly, legs and feet. With a re-grip of his right hand, he dropped his dufflebag and gripped ahold of the trigger for the chain-gun causing it to give a light whirring sound as its barrels started to spin. Jace's finger lifted off of the thick trigger though as he stared at the other male. Malcom would see first hand that Jace's beady little eyes (in comparison with the rest of his facial features) were full of betrayal and rage. "You agreed... That I could go anywhere... I wanted." His words half-slurred as he pumped the trigger, keeping the barrels spinning as he huffed and puffed, taking step after shaky step towards him.


Of course to Malcom, he would have known this sort of sight was coming (save for the chain-gun probably), but the new woman in there would not have been so lucky as to have been worned of said scenario. Although she would be able to see that his steps forward were not made with a lot of precision, she would also hear how heavy each one was. After all, the nearly naked man before her was hefting around nearly four hundred pounds worth of gun and ammo.
 
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He had started retracing his steps by the time the Lieutenant Colonel had finished his directions, mentally memorizing the path he was to take. It wasn't long before he'd made his way back, and had started toward his destination. He sped up after he recalled that the Lt.Col wanted him to hurry. Was someone hurt? Maybe that new guy from the military wing turned out to be a Private and ended up shooting himself. He chuckled at the thought, the fresh meat were always good for a laugh.


It was then that he reached the CCC's doorway, so he tapped his commlink. "Knock knock, Lieutenant Colonel."
 
Malcom looked at the Jace as he stepped through the door, shooting Nadia a "Everything's fine." look, continuing to go through the weapons he had. He had the second pistol he had used, he was dismantling it as well, cleaning it, he'd just slid the half full clip back in place. He reached up, and scratched his cheek, tapping his com to open to all active personal comm's at that moment. He set the weapon down, staring at the man hard, "And I've kept my word. Look where your standing Jace." He waved his hand around to the armory, "I didn't lock the door on the way out to keep You out." He said with emphasis when he listed the man. "We have unknown contaminants within a facility that none of us know enough about, and you want me to leave the door to one of our two most valuable rooms unlocked so you can come in and take from it's stores all that you want whenever you want?"


Malcom shook his head, "I know you don't trust me, and I don't really care, But even someone in your shoes has got to see the truth to this... We are at war, with an enemy we cannot predict. The last thing we need right now," He picked up the rail gun, it's shell was replaced, the radioactive explosive shell was already primed, and Malcom had never discharged it's last cell charge, "Is to split our resources because of our egos." He held the weapon at ready, it wasn't aimed at Jace, but then, it didn't need to be, if he fired it off, it would take most of the base with it. From having watched Malcom use it before, Jace, even in his condition, would realize what would happen if a single round was fired. Malcom's face stayed cold through the entire situation, the only time he shifted at all was as he worked, he looked at Jace, and asked, "Or did you have other ideas..."
 
Jace's eyes twitched in aggravation as the man before him ushered that nonsense to him about taking from the ammunition storage. "It wasn't... The ammo. It was to get..." He'd tilt the barrels of the chain-gun to his left. "To that PANEL!!" He'd growl, visually bearing his teeth. "I was headed.. to the central control room... Where you had everyone when I first saw that remote-map you keep by your chest." His pupils shrank a tiny bit as though he were going to lose his shit. "And in order to get to it... I needed INSIDE THIS PLACE, get it? I could give a damn what you do with all of these things in here so long as I keep my revolver." If Malcom's communicator was still open, nearly everyone would hear Jace's growling responses. "So let me hear it from you... Say the following-." He'd take another step, keeping the spinning barrels pointing away from Malcom's face for the moment as well as coming within a few inches of his chest. His full intent was to get Malcom say specifics where Jace, himself, could hear it. "You have permission... To come and go wherever it is you want- AAAND-" he'd pause allowing his lips to curl into a frown. "That includes... that central command room on the map." His eyes squinted in anticipation as he made one step away from Malcom, giving him some space. Which would be the first time he had ever really shown any 'respect' for his personal space. "I want to hear you say it specifically. That way-" He'd allow his frown to turn into an uneasy smile. "There's no confusion, yeah?" His right hand twitched a few times as he had placed his back to Nadia and he was getting a bit uneasy because of it. His eyes were a little hesitant to turn to get her In his peripheral as well, thinking Malcom would attempt to do something in response.
 
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Malcom nodded to him, repeating, "Jace, You have permission to come and go wherever it is you want, and that includes that central command room on the map." He raised the rail gun now, making it very obvious where things stood, his finger tense on the trigger, he flicked the power unit off on it, and set the gun down on the table. It Jettisoned it's shell into a reserve, and discharged the energy in it with a whirr of spinning down electronics. "Central command is however locked down at the moment. Until we secure the facility, we need it safe and clean." He continued with his other work, fully ignoring the open threats, "Besides Jace." He stared at the man after a moment, "There are consoles at every junction throughout this facility. You can access the maps from there, They just lack the bio signature readouts, same as the one in here. You can even access the central database from them." He took his remote in hand, and tapped it several times, changing the logging routes in it, He signed his command structure out of it, and placed it on a civilian mode. He offered it to the man. "As good as I can offer until we know the entire facility is clean." He rubbed his head with his free hand, "Honestly man, Why do you think I gave you the guns?" He shook his head. He knew that even if the man reached central command, since he'd logged into it once already, if he or anyone else signed his profile out, the system would do nothing but display map features to anyone lacking authority. Malcom knew how many cards he held, but he didn't need Jace to think he held any less.
 
Nadia had stood by and watched all of this play out without uttering a word, and even though Malcom gave her the "Everything's okay" face, she wasn't buying it. She didn't like this guy, from his look down to his attitude. He seemed to think that he could come and go as he pleased, and the fact that he was a convict and acting so haughtily was beginning to piss her off. She slowly slipped her right hand behind her back and placed it on the handle of her blade back there, but once she gripped it she didn't remove it.


As Jace started giving out his demands she gnarled her face at him and decided to just sit and watch and see how things played out. 
Nadia didn't like how this went at all, but she released her grip on her knife. She didn't really have anything positive to say, so she decided that silence was the best course of action for her. "This guy.." she muttered softly under her breath.
 
Jace's uneasy smile spread into the genuine form of one. "Well good. That's all I wanted-" he'd pause as he was offered the map, looking down at it then back up at Malcom's face. "No. You keep that. I'm not takin' no freebies. If I want it from you, I'll trade." He'd say as he then side-stepped to his right twice, peering over at Nadia with the same questioning eyes. He didn't like people staying behind him so long but the situation, in his mind at least, called for it. And so his eyes immediately searched for her hands, thinking he was about to have been back-stabbed or shanked. "...Can you turn around? Don't move your arm, either." Another press of the trigger on the rail, gun that was in between Malcom and her position gave out a whine as the barrels whirled around a bit faster. "Mister 'Devontess' here hasn't told me that you're trustworthy yet... I'd like to think such an honorable man like him isn't hanging around with sneaky rats or back-stabbers. You -CAN- turn around, right?" He'd ask with his squinting eyes widening as if he were seeing if there was going to be any hesitation in her doing so. Of course if Malcom said anything to the fact that she was trustworthy, he would merely walk past them both, taking his word at face value.
 
Malcom looked up, and to Jace, "You know Jace, To be honest, I'm not sure myself yet." He looked at Nadia, "But even if she did have the means to kill you, She's had several opportunities, and she took none of them. That should be enough for now." He sighed quietly, "Jace one more thing." He stepped over to a service locker, and pulled a comm out of it, he checked the numbers on it before he tossed it towards the man, "Stay in touch Partner." He gave the man a look that would harbor no arguments, that Malcom was in no mood to play any games with him, and that refusal, would be a very bad plan. He glanced to Nadia, and cocked his head to the side, giving her a silent order to step aside.
 
Nadia glared at the man before her. "You question my honor?" she was genuinely insulted by the man's words, she wished she had placed her hand on her hand on her pistol. She may have taken the chance to put an end to this piece of filth, but she slowly calmed herself, The situation had been dealt with and it seemed like all was going to be okay. "I'm sorry I don't recall him ever saying that our local convict had a heart of gold. I suggest you leave, I have no intentions on wasting effort on you...let this be the first step in our trust building exercise." She caught the look from Malcom, and without saying another word she stepped aside.
 
As Jace passed between the two of them, having caught the communicator. His eyes peered over to Malcom as he kept that 'care-free' smile on his face. "You're right. She could have killed me while my back was turned to her." Which it was at that moment as well. "But that would have only further proved my point. So I guess it is true. She does have honor... Enough to be able to place 'trust' upon, even." He said this last bit in an attempt at pushing her words back at her. Either way he'd grasp his duffle bag by the entryway, hefting it up with a grunt. "I need a change of clothes... And a bed. I'm going back to 'my' room. When you need my help, ask, PARTNER." The same sour-sounding note rang off of his voice when that word was uttered. Of course he did mean what he said about helping him. But he was growing tired of all of having to prove his own worth so many times in front of those females that he had come into contact with. He assumed the word 'convict' or 'inmate' was something that left them with a bad taste in their mouth. He'd shake his head as he took the other hallway back to his 'quarters', thinking over how they must have felt hearing a convict was on the loose. It really didn't matter to him. He had served his time for all three hundred and sixty murders he had committed before his capture and the forty six he had performed while inside, knowing he was acquitted of all crimes once he volunteered for that cryogenics experiment. In his eyes, he was a 'free man' and didn't need anyone else to tell him whether he was or not either. The thought of it all made him audibly chuckle, shaking his head at his own thoughts. 'No rules, no government, no system to be heard of... It would definitely be a new life for me. But one I already grew quite accustomed to, though with less shackles this time around.' would be his passing thoughts as he finally made his way to his room, throwing the matress back onto the bed and letting everything drop at the door.
 
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With a sigh, Malcom pulled an empty crate over to himself, and overturned it. He sat down heavily on it with an exasperated look on his face. He collected his thoughts for a moment before he reached up, and grabbed his remote, the small device had done wonders so far that day, and his comm was doing just as many. With the pair he'd controlled every scenario he'd gone through, with every scenario that had played out, he'd drained himself a bit more. "Honor..." He snorted and started going through the paces in the remote to return advanced control to it. When he had, he tapped the various commands needed to uplink Jace's new comm to the mainframe. He then opened the door for the captain to get through to the central command and then unlocked the door to the central command. Using his remote he switched on his comm to Nidelia and to Alexander, he spoke a moment later, "Alright, You two are set to switch, Captain, watch the hall. Once your in there, lock the door down. No one in or out. I'll relive you once I'm able." He stood up and rubbed his head, looking over to Nadia he asked, "Ever run a garrison armory before?"
 
Nadia looked at Malcom. "I know we may be short a few capable hands and all, but a convict, really?" she didn't like the idea. She didn't know the man's past or his crimes, but she highly doubted it was something like robbing the ice-cream man. She rolled her eyes at Malcom as Jace disappeared. She wasn't sure what the Lt. Col was thinking, but then again he had been up before her so she didn't get to see all that took place. She was going to reserve judgment for the most part, but a convict is a convict. "Where'd do guys get these comms from, I feel like I should've asked that a while ago." she went and leaned against the wall adjacent from Malcom. "As far as running a garrison armory, never." she closed her eyes as she crossed her arms in thought. She didn't like this situation, not one bit. "Do you mind re-breifing me on the Long Walk? I know I seem to be up and running at 100%, but I'm still a little off." She thought about how the world was before and almost laughed aloud and then when she thought on the current situation her face went back to a silent scowl. The Suck. Not something you want to wake to, but hey, there's nothing to it but to do it...even if the enemy are unpredictable beast that take pleasure in death and dying. Was it even possible for things to get worse. She threw her head back in frustration before letting out a loud and long exhale and then looking back over at Malcom.
 
The Captain cocked his head to side, listening to the conversation with interest. He'd have offered assistance if could've, though it seemed he had it under control. Not to mentioned he had little idea where this armory was located, it was apparent that the extended stint in Cryo had done little for the quality of his memory. He'd been all around this complex before going under, hell he'd spent more time here than just about any tour he'd had before the virus spread. So why couldn't he remember the layout?


He shook his head, it didn't matter. It was probably cryo-induced amnesia. It was quite common... he was pretty sure, anyway.


'Wait, was that a woman? The soldier was a woman? Huh, can't say I saw that coming...' He looked impressed. He'd seen plenty of women in the Army, and had a deep respect for all he'd served with, being often more capable than their male counterparts. It was the drive they all had to overcome the gender barrier that most of the older superior officers upheld. But he didn't think any would volunteer for the program...


"Yes, sir." He replied, unholstering and drawing his Beretta, pulling the slide and aiming it straight down the hall, waiting for Nidelia to leave. He'd nod to her as she passes, before retreating slowly inside, his gun still trained on the hall, and shutting the door.
 
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Malcom reached up to the active comms on the shelf, there were enough of them for a platoon, so he keyed the one for her into the system and handed it over to Nadia. He shrugged lightly, "I can... Pull up the specifics on it faster then I can explain it." He took a moment of shifting the files around, while he said, "I'm going to need to put someone in charge of the armory, check ins, check outs, all items already have serial numbers, they need to be cataloged, I'll get the information of Jace's equipment. Knives, Guns, Explosives, All of it needs to be cataloged and distribution of it needs to be controlled. If someone kills someone else, we'll be able to narrow it down by those that have weapons..." He shrugged lightly.


((He'll give her the remote displaying the Long Walk Scenario in my next post.))
 
Jace went right to his bed, sitting down on it with his communicator in his ear, having put it on whilst he walked to it. As his butt sunk into the cushion he gave out an almost pained sigh which was long and exasperated. 'God almighty' would be the thought he had before he fell backwards and gave himself completely to his bed. He'd lay there for probably ten to fifteen seconds with fluttering eyes and the thought 'So good... I needed this.' as his consciousness slipped from him and dove deep into slumber.


If anyone would bother to check on him (or moniter him from the screens in the central command room), they would see his muscles in his legs and his arms twitch and spasm in his sleep. His forearms and calves were all splotched and red from the strain. And truth be told, if he put any more strain on them, the very muscles would bruise from the built up pressure the blood was making inside of them. The pain was bad, but not enough to keep him from the dark embrace that held him in his dreams.
 
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