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A.R.Yngve
PARRY'S PROTOCOL
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Chapter 46
The shockwave blew a cloud of dust and debris down the flight of stairs, just as Abram threw himself away from it.
He was drenched in dust, the lamps in the basement ceiling blinked -- one lamp exploded above his head -- some of the waterpipes cracked, gushing hot water. Abram heaved himself to his feet. He coughed, took out a handkerchief, held it to his mouth. Further away in the basement corridor, the others screamed and coughed.
"You believe me now?!" he barked coarsely as he came closer to the group.
Joyce's eyes were red from the dust covering their clothes and faces. She leaned against the wall and kept coughing.
"Who are those crazies?" she said. "I've got to see if the patients were hurt."
Abram stood in her way, aiming the gun above her head: "Listen," he said in a weak voice, "they are out to kill me, and probably everyone who's spoken to me. As soon as any of you pokes his head up those stairs, we all get shot! They're probably on their way in now."
"Oh my God," Joyce wailed, holding her head with both hands, "what'll we do?"
Abram got an odd gleam in his eyes, his teeth grinned white in his dusty grey face.
"Let Parry out!" he said.
Joyce, the guard, and the two wardens were stunned.
"Let him out," Abram snarled, "or I shoot you now!"
Joyce nodded to the wardens, who quietly disappeared into a narrow side corridor. Joyce went over to the visitor's door at the other side, and opened it up.
Abram stuck in his head and shouted: "Parry, they are coming for us! Come out now and help me, if you wanna live!"
The moment he said it, the wardens' steps approached. They came running in terror, chased by Parry; he grinned wolfishly, stabbing at them with two sharpened metal rods -- taken from the bird cage. At their feet, the little cat darted past and away, up over the rubble that covered the staircase. Next, the canary fluttered past and up into the light. Parry stopped when he saw Abram with the gun; he grinned triumphantly at Joyce, who backed off in wide-eyed horror.
"I heard the bang. How many are they?" He was suddenly sharp and alert.
"Don't know, but they'll soon find us."
They looked to the basement stairs: a thick layer of bricks and mortar had slid down over the steps, but there was enough room for a man to crawl between the rubble and the stairway ceiling. There were muffled thumpings and screams from the cells upstairs -- then, the faint crackling of several boots carefully walking across the rubble on the floor.
The group listened breathlessly for another second -- and Parry whispered to them: "Any more firearms here?"
Abram handed him the guard's revolver and the cartridges; Parry began loading it without satisfaction.
"Anything explosive?" he went on. "Any sharp objects?"
He held up his improvised metal-rod weapons.
The warden Simon whispered, stutteringly: "All firearms were carried by the guards -- but here there's just heating oil for the boiler, some g-gasoline cans and gardening t-tools..."
Simon stopped, listening. From above came the muted smattering of machine-gun fire. One by one, the screams from the remaining five patients ceased.
"Quickly now," Parry whispered. "Get the gasoline, a lighter, and the fire hose. I need lots of water. Then hide in my cell!"
"Go on!" Abram urged, waving his gun at the personnel.