Slimer (4 page)

    Paul felt baffled as he prodded through the clothes with a plastic ruler. 'This is crazy…' he muttered.

    'Weirdos. We're dealing with weirdos here,' said Alex.

    'It's creepy,' said Chris. She kept glancing nervously around, as if she expected something to jump out at them even though there was nowhere in the lab for anyone to hide.

    Paul gave up his examination of the clothes. 'This is getting us nowhere. Let's move on.'

    'Wouldn't it be better if we split up?' said Alex.

    'No. I don't think it's a good idea,'

    'What's the matter?' sneered Alex. 'Scared?'

    Keeping control of his temper with an effort Paul said, 'No. I just think we should all stick together until we know what the situation is here.'

    Alex suddenly reached inside his shirt. There was a click and Paul found himself looking at a six inch switch-blade being held directly under his nose. 'See, Mr Boss-Man, no need to worry. We run into anyone who tries to mess with us and I'll take care of them with this.'

    Paul couldn't conceal his surprise. He had no idea that Alex was carrying the weapon. He'd never even seen it before. Would he have been so eager to pick arguments with Alex if he'd known, he wondered. One thing was certain - Alex was more than capable of using it on someone.

    As calmly as he could he said, 'Very impressive, Alex, but put it away before you hurt yourself. I'm sure you're not going to need it.'

    Alex's eyes went hard. 'You want to bet on that, Boss-Man?'

    His meaning was obvious. It was a direct challenge but one that Paul had no choice but to ignore. Deliberately turning his back on Alex he headed for the door. 'Let's go,' he said casually.

    But despite this display of bravado the muscles in his back tightened with fear. He knew he was going to feel like this from now on whenever Alex was behind him.

    

    

    There were another six laboratories on the top floor, all of them deserted. Five were similar to the first two but one of them - the largest - was full of sophisticated computer equipment and other elaborate-looking electronic devices. 'There must be at least a hundred thousand pounds worth of gear in this lab alone,' said Paul in wonder.

    'Yeah?' said Alex, looking around with new interest.

    'Forget it, Alex. You wouldn't be able to carry it very far anyway.'

    Apart from the labs there were also a number of store rooms containing various scientific and medical supplies, and also a miniature power station housing two compact, diesel-powered generators. It, too, was deserted.

    Finally they came to a communications room and it was here they received the first of a series of nasty surprises.

    It had been completely wrecked. The expensive-looking transmitters had been smashed to pieces and the floor was littered with broken equipment. It was as if a bomb had gone off.

    'I guess we won't be making any phone calls home,' said Paul, surveying the grim scene.

    'Someone sure got pissed off in here,' said Alex, 'I wonder why.'

    'Hey, look at this!' Rochelle was bending down and pulling something out from under a pile of debris. It was an automatic rifle.

    Alex immediately rushed over and snatched it out of her hands. 'Wow, it's an M16!' he cried excitedly. He began to examine its mechanism with practised hands, treating it like an old friend. But then it probably was, Paul realised. He remembered that Alex had spent some time in the US Army before being dishonourably discharged for dealing in drugs.

    'Is it in working order?' Paul asked him, trying to hide his alarm.

    'Sure is.' Alex pulled out the magazine. 'And loaded too.'

    'It looks pretty light,' said Paul, keeping his tone relaxed.

    'The stock and grip are made of hollow fibre glass. It don't weigh much more than a.22,' said Alex, pleased to show off his knowledge. 'But it packs a hell of a bigger punch than a.22. It takes 5.63 ammo and you can fire it like an ordinary rifle, one round at a time, or you can put the selector on "Auto" like this…' He demonstrated the selector on the side of the weapon, '… And fire off eighteen rounds in the blink of an eye. But that's not wise 'cause the magazine only holds eighteen rounds. Best just to touch the trigger when it's on "auto", that way you get off a burst of about three bullets…' He cocked the gun and then said, 'Right, now it's got one up the spout and is all ready and rarin' to go.'

    'Fine,' said Paul calmly. He held out his hand. 'Now hand it over.'

    Alex's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. 'Are you kidding?'

    'No. I want that gun.'

    Alex's mouth took on an ugly line. 'Tough shit.' He swung the barrel around until it was pointing at Paul's stomach. The atmosphere in the room became electric.

    Then Mark cried, 'Hey, I've found another one!'

    Paul turned to see Mark pulling a second M16 from under an overturned chair. He reached out for it. Mark was about to hand it over to him when Alex rasped, 'Don't give it to him!'

    Mark froze.

    'Ignore him,' said Paul with the same calm voice. 'Give me the gun, Mark.' Inside he was a turmoil of nerves. His body tensed, waiting for the crash of Alex's M16 and the mule-kick of the bullet. Mark slowly extended the gun to him. Paul took hold of it.

    There was no gun shot.

    Paul checked to see if his weapon was loaded, studiously ignoring Alex. When he saw it was loaded he looked at Alex and smiled at him. 'Well?'

    With a scowl Alex lowered his M16. Paul felt a great wave of relief wash over him. A crisis had been averted - for the time being.

    Chris gave a nervous laugh, 'Oh good. Now both the big men have a toy each and we can all relax.'

    'Shut your dumb mouth, you stupid cow,' snarled Alex.

    'Oh, for God's sake, why can't we stop all this fighting among ourselves and concentrate on finding out what happened here,' said Linda angrily. 'For a start I'd like to know what weapons like those are doing on an oil rig.'

    'Well, we already know it's no ordinary oil rig,' said Paul, thankful for Linda's contribution.

    'Hey, you guys. More clothes!' It was Rochelle, holding up what appeared to be the jacket of some sort of uniform. It was dark blue but covered with several rust-like stains.

    They gathered round her for a closer look. On the lapel was a badge that read 'Security' together with a small photograph of an earnest young man with a crew-cut.

    'Must have belonged to the owner of one of the guns,' said Paul. Then he noticed something else. So did the others.

    'Jesus,' whispered Chris, 'It's been slashed by something. A knife.'

    'Or claws,' said Mark. 'The cuts are parallel, see…'

    It was then that Paul realised what the stains were.

    Dried blood.

    

    

    On the second level, to Linda's intense relief, they found toilets. But that was the only discovery they made that gave them any comfort. Level Two, as it was officially called according to various signs on the walls, was much the same as the top one. Gleaming white corridors linked a complex of laboratories and store rooms - and all devoid of human life.

    More bundles of clothes were found, several of them ripped and blood-stained like the ones in the communications room but the majority were unmarked. And all, inexplicably, had the underwear inside the outer garments. There were also signs that outbreaks of violence had occurred. There were bullet holes in a few of the walls, some broken doors and one of the store rooms had been burnt out.

    By the time they reached the second level from the bottom they were all feeling thoroughly exhausted and were no longer bothering to do more than just look briefly into each room they passed. They were all empty, of course, and no one answered their increasingly weary cries of 'Hallo! Anyone here?'

    This level was the same as the ones above except for two things. One was a long, narrow room full of empty cages of varying sizes. And despite the smell of disinfectant in the air it had a pronounced zoo-like odour.

    'Phew,' said Rochelle, wrinkling her nose. 'What the hell did they keep in here? It smells like Alex's socks.'

    Paul began to read out the labels on the empty cages. 'Rhesus monkeys, Chimpanzees, Marmosets, Orangoutangs…' He moved on down the row of cages. '… And here there were domestic cats, guinea pigs, dogs, rats - lots of rats. These must have been used for experiments,'

    'Bastards,' said Chris who was, of course, a strong anti-vivisectionist.

    'But where are they all?' wondered Linda aloud.

    'They must have been evacuated along with the people when whatever went wrong here went wrong,' said Mark.

    'That doesn't make sense. If that was the case the cages wouldn't be here either,' said Paul.

    'And have you noticed something even odder?' asked Chris. 'All of them are still locked. Why on earth would anyone go to the bother of locking the cages after the animals had been removed?'

    No one had an answer.

    At the end of the room were a pair of swing doors that opened into an aquarium area. Illuminated with the same eerie kind of violet light that had been in the airlock it contained rows of glass tanks of different sizes. And like the cages these, too, were all empty.

    'Curiouser and curiouser…' whispered Linda.

    There was a strange atmosphere in the aquarium, exaggerated no doubt by the lighting and also the sounds made by all the bubbling oxygen appliances in the tanks. But it was the
emptiness
of the place that was so unsettling…

    'Don't tell me,' muttered Rochelle. 'They evacuated all the fish too.'

    'I don't like it here. Let's leave,
now,
' said Chris.

    'More bad vibes?' answered Alex.

    'They must have had some really big fish in here,' said Mark. 'Look at the size of
that
tank.' He was pointing at one that was at least twenty feet long.

    Paul went and read the label on the front of it. 'Just says "Carcharodon". Anyone know what that means?'

    'Nope,' said Linda and shivered. 'I agree with Chris, let's get out of here. It gives me the creeps too.'

    

    

    The other intriguing feature on this level was a room packed with TV equipment. It was obviously the control point for all the cameras they had spotted throughout the platform. There were eight monitor screens positioned around a large console and all of them were functioning, each one showing a different part of the rig.

    'It's as if someone had walked out of here a moment before we arrived,' said Chris.

    'They probably did,' said Alex. 'And I'll bet you this is from where our shy host operated the crane that picked us up.'

    'It's possible,' said Paul doubtfully, staring at the equipment.

    'I wish they'd stop hiding from us,' said Linda. 'It's crazy. Why are they acting this way?'

    'As we said earlier. They must have something to hide,' said Mark.

    'Then why haven't they prevented us from wandering around?' she asked.

    Mark shook his head. 'Don't ask me.'

    Paul, meanwhile, had made another discovery. Racks and racks of video cassettes, all of them carefully labelled with some kind of code. He picked one of them up and examined it. 'Wonder what's on this, if anything.'

    'We should run it through and see,' said Linda. 'There must be a video playback machine somewhere in all this stuff. It might give us a clue as to what was going on here.'

    'It would take days to run through all those cassettes,' protested Rochelle. 'Look at it later. Right now let's try and find where they keep the food and the beds in this place. I'm about ready to drop.'

    The others agreed with her so they then headed down to the fifth and final level. Level One, it turned out, was entirely devoted to living space and consisted of sleeping quarters, kitchens and recreational rooms. Paul estimated that it would have housed at least 250 people…

    They made a cursory examination of the place and found, as they now expected, it was devoid of human life. Or at least it appeared to be - they couldn't be sure because several of the doors were locked but there was no response when they banged on the doors. Deciding to check them out later they retired to one of the kitchens to have something to eat.

    The kitchen they chose turned out to be well-stocked with both frozen and tinned foods, revealing, if nothing else, that the original inhabitants of the rig ate well. On Paul's advice they used only the tinned food, making a quick stew out of a variety of ingredients. Similarly they ignored the water from the taps and drank only mineral water from sealed bottles and tinned fruit juice.

    The meal made them all feel much better. Even Mark's appearance improved, to Paul's relief, as he'd been worried that Mark might have been coming down with something serious. Even better, the food had the effect of mellowing Alex a little. By the end of the meal his habitual mood of glowering antagonism seemed thankfully absent though Paul was sure this would only be a temporary change.

    It was past ten p.m. when they finished eating and the women were all anxious to find somewhere to sleep as soon as possible but Paul insisted they check out the locked rooms before they turned in.

    It took another hour before they had broken down all the locked doors and investigated all the rooms. They didn't find anyone but what they did find didn't improve their state of minds. In all the locked rooms there were more piles of empty clothing - but in every case the doors had been locked from the inside.