Chapter 102: Time in the Colony – II

Minutes passed and Hans’s escort arrived. With a few greetings, the group made their way into eastern part of the city.

The streets have become livelier than before. Children played around with their weird games. Adults walked under the shade, taking rests from time to time.

Work was hard though the pay was quite generous. Yet still, no one was willing to sacrifice their health and live one day shorter than expected.

“How’s the progress of the colony in the past two days?” Hans asked the squad leader.

“Ah, Commander. Food production has started, and the Council have started searching for professionals that will help the colony regarding our water sources.”

“Is that so? That’s quite a big progress.”

The squad leader scratched his head. “Hehe, if not for the Commander’s duty in preserving the security, I don’t think anyone would have the time to think about these.”

“Don’t sell anyone short,” Hans glanced at the squad leader. “They will come up with the same idea with or without our help.”

“I understand, Commander.”

The squad leader shut his mouth, feeling awkward by his own words. Hans let it go and glanced at Yunera instead.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to go?”

“I’m not following you,” Yunera corrected, pointing her finger at Kimmy. “I’m following her.”

Hans had no intention to argue. He followed behind the squad leader into a narrow alley, went around a busy intersection, until they reached the entrance of a grayish three-story building.

It used to be an office block for some small-scale company. The kind where the first floor held small stalls and services—printing, prepaid loading, cheap coffee—while the upper floors were cramped rooms divided by thin partitions.

Now, under Hans’s occupation and Tyrus’s pleas, the place was repurposed.

Someone had scrubbed off the old signage with sandpaper until only the remnants of paint remained.

The glass door was gone, replaced by a welded steel frame and a sheet of ridged metal that served as a swing gate.

Two floodlights were bolted below the roof’s edge, powered by a cable that ran along the wall like a black snake.

Markers were present too. Chalk lines on the pavement with numbers, arrows, and other symbols.

A faint NO ENTRY was painted twice, a double-layered warning in case someone was stupid enough to get close after the first sign.

A young man sat on a plastic chair beside the entrance, the M16A4 rifle across his lap. His eyes followed their group and quickly realized who was here.

“Commander!”

Hans acknowledged the salute with a nod and kept walking.

The air near the doorway carried a mix of things—disinfectant, old paper, sweat, and the faint metallic spark of batteries.

Hans wouldn’t describe it as a home but perhaps, the workspace of a workaholic person.

Kimmy tilted her head slightly; her blindfold turned toward the building. She didn’t speak, but her fingers curled around the waist of her dress for half a second before she relaxed again.

Yunera noticed it and leaned over.

“You feel something?” she asked, quieter than her usual tone.

Kimmy hesitated.

“There are many… corpses. This person is researching them. He—”

She cringed and quickly drew back her sensory power, reducing her spatial vision within the same floor.

The group halted their steps.

Hans scanned Kimmy’s pale face. He was rather interested of what she had seen.

By now, he had a fair understanding of Tyrus’s behavior.

As a scientist and a previous contributor to Project HELIX, it would be strange if this guy didn’t delve into studying the biology of these zombies.

“Where is he now?” Hans asked.

“Underground,” Kimmy replied.

“You heard the lady,” Hans urged the squad leader.

“I know where the entrance is, Commander. Follow me.”

The squad leader approached the gate and knocked three times.

Something beeped, then the bolt scraped.

The corrugated sheet swung inward into a hallway, void of any furniture.

The air inside was colder. Not the type which Hans experienced himself with, but more as a damp concrete that had never touched sunlight.

The hallway was bare on purpose.

No posters, shelves, or trash bin. Nothing could be hidden on corners. And nothing could be used and turned into a weapon.

Two of Hans’s soldiers stood further inside, rifles angled down but ready to rise.

One had a flashlight clipped to his vest, the other planting his back on the wall.

“Commander,” the two greeted, their voices steady. The guard on the right opened the door for them.

Hans returned a short nod and kept moving.

Ahead of them was a narrow stairwell that dropped into darkness.

“There’s an underground chamber here?” Hans was surprised.

“Mr. Tyrus led us to this stairwell, Commander,” the squad leader replied. “Nobody believed it at first and everyone was shocked after the discovery. Mr. Tyrus is blessed with a powerful sensory.”

He truly is, Hans recalled Dmitri’s notes about Tyrus.

Their footsteps echoed dully on the unclean basement stairwell.

Each step was concrete, chipped in some places, with dried streaks that had been scrubbed too hard.

Someone had glued strips of rubber along the edges to stop slipping, and there were numbers painted on every fifth step like a countdown.

“Lights,” the squad leader said.

A switch clicked. LED strips flickered to life along the wall. They looked weak and cold, bright enough to see where one’s feet were headed in the darkness.

Hans’s nose realized the difference immediately.

The upstairs was a busy office pretending to be a lab. Down here, it was a lab pretending to be a morgue.

No wonder the colony was distressed, Hans took a deep breath. This smell will sting any regular person.

Kimmy stayed close behind him. Yunera did too, but Hans noticed her hand hovering near her belt as if she expected something to jump from the shadows.

“You’re paranoid,” he chuckled. “Relax, it’s all peaceful here.”

The squad leader descended first, then Hans, then the rest. On the twentieth step, a small sign was bolted to the wall.

——

TYRUS SHEARMAN’S LABORATORY

DO NOT CROSS THE RED LINE

DO NOT TOUCH THE DOORWAYS

DO NOT DESCEND WITHOUT PERMISSION

——

Hans glanced on the floor. There, a red line streaked across the stairs, uneven and thick.

“Your protocols?” Hans asked quietly.

“Dr. Tyrus’s request,” the squad leader replied with a frown. “We have no choice but to enforce it. For everyone’s safety, as he said it.”

“Interesting,” Hans slowed his steps. “I wonder what he’s working with for him to be that cautious.”

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