Exit 9 by Brett Battles Page A

nearly seven hours. One more and he would be done for the night. So far, besides the guards who had either been starting or finishing duty on the block, no one had gone through the door in the clear Plexiglas wall that separated the arrival area from the detention cells. That wasn’t unusual. There were only twenty cells here, and only five were being used.
    These were the most important prisoners taken by the resistance, members of the Project who were deemed both dangerous and potentially useful. Normally, the only time someone passed through the security door would be to question one of the prisoners, or deliver the meals. It was, without a doubt, a boring job, but one he and his fellow guards knew was important.
    At the moment, though, his mind wasn’t on the prisoners or the potential death of billions. He was thinking about the beer waiting for him upstairs and the basketball game that was already recording on the receiver in his room.
    Bwhap—bwhap—bwhap.
    He jerked as the alarm sounded, swiveled to the left, and checked the computer monitor. As it was supposed to do, the detention wing door had locked down. He glanced through the Plexi wall at the guards on the block. They were taking their assigned positions in front of the occupied cells.
    Per procedure, he checked his weapon, and repositioned in front of the elevator that led up from the subterranean detention area to the main building of the Bluff. If the doors opened, he and the two guards who would be joining him from the control room would deal with whoever might step out.
    Bwhap—bwhap—bwhap.
    He guessed it was probably just another false alarm. They’d had them a few times before. Real problems, on the other hand, never occurred at the Bluff.
    Bwhap—bwhap—bwhap.
    The persistent alarm was loud enough that he didn’t hear the door to the control room open behind him, but even if he did, he would have only thought it was the other guards heading his way.
    Unfortunately for Taylor, he would have been wrong.
    __________
     
    I T WAS AMAZING how easy it was. Murphy’s contact had said it would be, had told him the resistance would never suspect the attack to come from within. Under the man’s guidance, Murphy had practiced everything over and over until each move was automatic, natural.
    He had watched the guard stationed at the door to the detention area check the status of the door, then head over to the elevators. As soon as the man was in position, Murphy exited the control room.
    Holding a second container of the dueling liquids, he walked toward the guard.
    __________
     
    T AYLOR FINALLY HEARD the footsteps when they were only a few feet away. Since the lights beside the elevator door indicated the car was still at the top, he looked back, but instead of seeing one of the expected guards, it was a member of the monitoring crew.
    Murphy ? Maybe. It was hard to tell because the guy was wearing something on his face.
    “Where are the others?” Taylor asked.
    “Not coming.” Murphy’s voice was distorted by the thing over his mouth.
    “What are you talking about?”
    As he spoke, Taylor began to sense that something wasn’t right, but he was already too late. Murphy was flinging something at the floor by Taylor’s feet.
    Taylor raised his gun. “Don’t move.”
    “No problem,” Murphy replied.
    “What was that? What did you…”
    Taylor suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, the world around him becoming a blurry, vibrating mess. The next thing he knew, Murphy was holding on to him, gently lowering him to the floor.
    “Don’t fight it,” Murphy said. “You’re not going to win.”
    Taylor stared at the other man, trying to see him clearly. “What…wha…”
    The rest of the question was lost forever as he took his last breath.
    __________
     
    T HE YOUNG COUPLE known as Adam and Eve had been joined by six others. The assault group moved in as soon as Murphy radioed. Within ninety seconds, all eight were standing at the