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

Jace bent the nozzle upwards and turned the knob, blasting the ceiling with freezing cold water as the resulting cold mist caused all of the steam to slowly condense and fell back to the floor in hopes of clearing their view. "Not yet.. But we'll see soon enough." He'd say with a few steps back, looking behind himself as he did, then forwards again, gun at the ready. His vision scanned over each corner of his own stall before he pushed the rag he had used with his foot to cover up the drain so it didn't make its way down it.
 
Nidelia quickly pulled her feet up on the bench shaking. She rubbed her foot absent mindedly as she watched the steam clear from the stall. She had completely not heard anything Jace said about dropping the soap.


On the ground was some sort of hardened carapace. It didn't seem to be doing anything except sitting there. At one of the end there looked to be two pincers sticking out. Otherwise it just looked like a stick laying on the ground, unmoving. The carapace however was rather smooth.<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_06/IMG_20140624_204951178.jpg.f7c06ba75f3cbcbd32722d93007e1033.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="21303" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_06/IMG_20140624_204951178.jpg.f7c06ba75f3cbcbd32722d93007e1033.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

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Malcom saw the creature, and hefted his kukiri firmly, his face set, he nodded towards it, "You wanna be carrot or the stick?" He raised his brow at Jace pointedly spinning the knife in his hand until it was reversed. He lowered his stance slightly, slowly, staring at the strange insect, "Or should we just try to scare it back into it's hole. Malcom slid his right foot towards the thing, his face calm, his eyes locked on the thing.
 
Jace gave a stare down at the creature, giving a look of disgust. "Carrot." He'd say with a cold sneer down at the creature. He'd slowly lean forward towards the thing, looking at it from under the stall and then with a wiggle of his right hand's fingers, he'd reach down and placed his hand on the floor. And from there, he would wait for it to get close before attempting to grasp hold of the 'worm' right at its head, aiming to grasp it behind its pinchers. And if successful, he would hold it up and attempt to crush it in his grip. Of course he figured it would take more than that to do away with. If so, he would hold it outright, left hand holding the gun and giving Malcom a 'don't miss' look.


If it got away, or worse (going on the attack), he would swat his hand down at the ground and moved accordingly in order to try and grasp at it to get it to where he COULD hold it.


Of course if Malcom got to it first with the blade, he wouldn't even need to grasp out.
 
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Malcom spun his blade in his hand again, he watched as Jace leaned forward, muttering, "Just... Keep... It... Distracted..." Malcom slid forward on the wet tile of the bathroom, he didn't dare lift his leg, or take a step, he simply slid forward a bit at a time until he was in range to cut the thing to pieces.


The Kurkiri in Malcom's hand wasn't designed for throwing, it wasnt meant for being thrown at something and stuck into it. It was meant for stabbing, or slashing, or carving. Malcom made a nod to Jace, to provoke it right then. If he moved just right, Malcom's blade would cut the thing from end to end, directly in half, the tip of his kukiri a hairs breadth from Jace's hand. If he moved it wrong, and the creature shifted, Malcom would slice as close to the head as he could, possibly injuring Jace in the process. But he'd watched the man enough to guess that he'd work well with the oncoming blade.
 
The area between Jace's thumb and his index finger would get a nick but nothing too serious. He'd just give a 'really?' look at Malcom with an aggravated wrinkle to his nose as his fingers shifted on the gun in his left hand. He did nothing though, and looked over to the woman who had curled up, shaking his head at her. And so he would crawl under her stall, pop up on the other side and slid her gun over to her as well as a bar of soap. "You're gonna' need that to stop your skin from crawlin' huh?" He'd smirk at her. "And don't drop it. You never know who.... or what... may be standing behind you." His voice echoed with an eerie crackle as if he were trying to scare her even more. Although it was funny that he slid her own gun back to her, knowing that in the panic she most definitely would have left it. And as it was returned to her, he'd step over past her, stopping just enough to say "You're welcome." before flicking his hand off to his right side as he rubbed the area that got nicked with his other thumb. He grasped ahold of a towel on his way out, wrapping it around himself and had his belongings bundled up in an old duffle-bag he had found in one of the half-opened lockers having not really cared who it belonged to.
 
Malcom would have shrugged at Jace, then looked down at the creature, his blade had only managed to bury itself into the things head. He frowned at it, realizing the poor limp thing was dead, he muttered, "Holy Hell... Thats enough pressure to sever someones head... what is this thing made of..." He looked over at Nidelia, and said, "Nidelia, toss me my shirt, I need to donate it to science."
 
Nidelia glared at Jace. The man was probably reveling in her nakedness. She didn't move to grab the gun. She waited until he was gone. Then she heard Malcolm ask for his shirt.


She eyed the carapace laying on the floor. She hated bugs, that much had not changed. She shuddered as she was slowly putting one of her feet down on the floor, but she gasped and pulled her leg back up as she saw the carapace move. "M-Malcolm, i-i-i-it moved," she says grabbing her gun and pointing it at the thing.
 
Malcom had noticed, his hand was out, and he said, "Yeah, Shirt now, fear later. Shirt Now Nidelia." He said calmly, his voice even and cool, just a bit more firmness then usual. He had to keep reminding himself she was a civilian. He was eyeing the thing, watching it pulse slowly. He knew he had seconds.
 
Jace merely made his way back towards where he last saw the other two women still wearing nothing but a towel on his muscled, heavily scarred, frame. And if they weren't there, he would merely go over to the armory's control panel again, fumbling clumsily around with it until he brought up the map again and received directions to where they were. If he was stopped by anyone, he would merely stare them over for a few seconds unless it was about that 'bug' they had to kill. If so, he would be all ears. Of course if it were the other two women, he would have stopped as well. But anyone else would be outright (and rudely) ignored.
 
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She reached back grabbing the shirt and throwing it at gim, not taking her eyes off of it. She then gasped as between one of the chinks in the carapace a really small head with six eyes poked out. Then another, and another, and more. It was obvious the mistake Malcolm had made.


Nid's breathing had become rather sporadic as she watched. She hoped he was going to take care of it soon.


Rys was knelt down next to the beast looking it over. There were several vials of blood being held just outside the room. She was jotting down notes about its anatomy and such. She couldn't wait to dissect it. She couldn't help getting a schoolgirl grin on her face. She went over to one side of the room and put on a pair of gloves and turned around with her back to the wall to survey the scene once more.
 
The shirt in hand the next motion went by within a millisecond. Malcom still held the thing aloft by the end of his knife. With a whipping motion, he wrapped the shirt around in, plucked the knife away, and tied it off in a neat bag, turning it inside out, he made a second knot. He moved to a tap, and soaked it in water, then tossed it away from himself. He shook his head, sighing, "Like bagging a catfish." Even if the thing had sharp teeth, the water soaking his shirt would keep it from biting through for hours. He moved over to Nidelia, saying, "guess the doctor has a new sample. He hoped the dark, wet confines of the shirt would trick the bugs into thinking they were back in their safe section of pipe, at least long enough for them to get dressed and leave the bathroom. Malcom sat down next to Nidelia, and sighed, "I swear... I'm never going to get that vacation..." He paused for a moment, tapped his comm unit, and said over it, "Captain, this is Malcom, I'm on my way to you, Sorry for the delay." He would wait a few minutes though, he needed to make sure Nidelia was safe before he moved onto his next active charge.
 
Alexander nodded again, "Roger that, Lieutenant Colonel. Standing by, over." He tapped his comm, shutting off the mic, and resumed pacing.


Suddenly the reactor started up, whirring loudly, startling him. "Jesus! It's like they built this place to be creepy... Lack of light doesn't help anything." He drew a calming breath, crouched down and placed the Duffel bag on the ground, readying his rifle and waited.
 
Nidelia wanted to hug him again, but that would be much to awkward given their... current looks as it was... why was she... Oh god. She looked around, found a towel, wrapped up in it and sat back next to him and hugged him. She actually liked the feel of his skin. It was relaxing to her.


She closed her eyes. "Cryo or not, we do need to sleep soon. You don't sleep in cryo. Which is one reason for being so weary when you get out. Much more of this and you're going to collapse Malcolm," she says going all Doctor on him.


"Pretty soon I'm going to tie my doctor noose and make you go sleep. Especially now that apparently another military man awoke," she says and actually let's out a huge yawn and can't help but stretch.
 
Malcom sighed and nodded at her, his right hand moved to her arms as she hugged him, he nodded.


"I know... But it seems like every time I try to take a break something else happens." He said as he pulled his pants over to him.


Malcom sighed at their state, soaked in blood. He shook his head and tossed them aside in disgust.


"Great, now I'm stuck running mission in my cryo suit... at least it cleans easy."


He stood up and grabbed up his body armor, strapping on as much of it as was still in good enough shape.


Malcom paused and said "I'm gonna go and find our good captain, sounds like he came too a bit better off then most so far. Would you mind heading back to the control room and locking it up? As much as I'm grateful for his help so far, I don't want Jace getting in there. Just lock the door, I'll comm you when I'm outside."


He had his kukiri, and other firearms in various holsters a few moments later, the other blade still in it's garment sheath, he picked up the rail-gun, loaded it, turned on it's charge and then slung the shells over his back, the dull radioactive symbol on it's case still a constant reminder of what he was carrying with him. He'd fired three shells so far, there was only ten in the case, with the reload, he knew he only had six shots, Six shots left in this case, and he'd only seen another five in the armory. Malcom strode out the door, taking a relaxed pace, he made his way down the hall, towards the stairs, the rail gun held firmly in his hands. Malcom knew he could load it with simple slugs, even hand made varieties, but he also knew the explosive micro warheads he carried were far more effective. With a sigh, and a shrug, he resolved to scrounge through the other sections of the base for any weapons cases left in storage after they were locked down.


Malcom tapped his comm again, "This is Malcom Devontess, I'm broadcasting on all channels station wide, For those of you that are civilian, We are now in a scenario known as The Long Walk, As such, this installation is no longer a civilian facility, it is a military stronghold. Any and all former regulations are hearby terminated. If you can hold a gun, You've just been drafted into The Colorado Cryo-Genics Militia Corp, Any and all former affiliations, legal contracts, are null, and that includes any standing warrants or legal claims made against you."


He continued walking, feeling he was making a speech, it was playing over the speakers throughout the base after all.


"Jace, That make's you a free man, Congratulations on your second chance, I hope you wont waste it."


He paused, and continued, "Doctor Rys, As I personally was breifed on the Long Walk, I'm saying this now. Due to the circumstances of the scenario, I'm giving you your full access privileges effective immediately."


He pulled his data pad out, pulled up her file, and altered her permissions in the central database.


Malcom continued his speech, already feeling like he was talking far too much. "As for the rest of you, If you have any skill sets I can put to use, Come and see me in the mess hall in..."


He paused, and glanced at the remote, looking to where the captain was, and to where the mess hall was. "Thirty minutes. If your not busy with something delicate, Meet up there at that time anyways, We need to discuss the future of the human race."


He turned off his comm a moment later and sighed, He was terrified by what he had just done, but knew the future of his species was at stake.
 
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~{Heavy shit, man. Heavy shit.}~


The Captain nearly had a heart attack, not that he'd ever admit it, as the Lieutenant Colonel's message was broadcasted throughout the complex, the same message echoed in his commlink. He sighed, so it was true. Woods tapped the comm, "Shit, you really weren't kiddin'. Guess that makes you my CO, sir."


He adjusted himself before giving up on the crouch, moving to lean against his abandoned pod. "I don't suppose you've any of those fancy remotes, do ya? Looks like some of the infected have gotten in, well looks like a lot of them have gotten in, or just a few got in and decided to stick around for a while. Don't s'pose they ever got those things to show positions? I'd like to know if something was gunning for me, sir."
 
Nidelia nodded silently to h.and watched him leave. Wait... now she was a militia doctor?! This wasn't going to get any easier was it? Not to mention she seemed to be the ONLY doctor. What was she going to do.


She sighed and stood up putting her cryo skin suit back on. She was in the same boat as Malcolm on that note, only bone of her armor was still wearable. She the turned and grabbed her gun and took a look at the shirt of bugs. It seemed to have stopped. Thank god. But she was not going to be the one to take it to Rys. No way.


She shuddered walking out of the room with her gun. Then she heard the new officers question and chimed in on the comms. She wasn't going to leave Malcolm to do everything. "Negative Captain, we just took care of the last beast shortly before you awoke. The facility should be clear. And Malcolm, I'll do another scan while I'm in the control room," she says.


She finally reached the control room, turned and locked the door, then walked over sitting in the seat. She set the computer to scan for anymore hostiles. She pulled her knees up to her chest, hugged them, rested her chin on her knees, and started to doze.


Rys listened to Malcolm's speech all the while trying to figure out how she was going to get the beast back to her lab. "Understood sir. But do you think you and some other tough boys could come give me a hand in getting this thin' to the Science lab please?" She asks in her thick southern drawl.


She was perky as ever as she walked around it in circles again, just admiring it.
 
Malcom sped up into a jog, He tapped his comm, sending the signal directly to Alexander. He turned up a flight of stairs and all but leapt up the stairs.


"Describe the infected your seeing there Captain. I'm not seeing-" He paused grabbing his remote.


Malcom switched the filter over and his heart sank, the computer wasnt recognizing them because they weren't on record. He cursed and changed the filter to motion sensors.


"Shit..." He cursed, "You have incoming from down the hall on the right, I'm coming from your left, I'll be there in thirty seconds, Converge with me then Captain, If you have a firearm, prep to come in hot."


Malcom gripped his rail gun and broke into a sprint, dodging debris, he tapped his comm again, switching through channels until he found Bianca's,


His breathing was slightly heavy as he gasped out, "Bianca, Find Jace, tell him to get booted and suited and to meet me upstairs now, We have a situation that cannot wait!" He rounded one last corner, came down the hall, and came to a stop. For a second he was frozen, his face a mask of terror...


-Flash Back-

​



Malcom heard the voice over over the radio, "All Marines, Prepare to Drop, Your ETA is in fifteen seconds." It repeated two more times, and he closed his eyes, hoping, praying, when he opened his eyes, the nightmare would be over. But when he did, it wasn't, he saw across from him, one of his fellow Marines, Donavan, next to him was Alvarez, beside him was his CO, Colonel John Smith. He and his other fellows had always laughed at the name, the most common name in America. The Colonel had caught them joking about it once, and had replied, "That's Because I am the Son of Lady Liberty and Uncle Sam themselves Boys." and he had more then once proved that his boasting joke was something he took to heart. The man was a true soldier, Malcom almost thought of him as Noble. He looked across to his CO and nodded before shouting out, "Alright Boys, By the numbers, This is just like Isreal, keep formation and rip your cords when you see my chute open. Alvarez, Take my six when we make landfall, Donavan, your on the Colonel once were in the chaff." His comrades had nodded, they all knew the CO had given him permissions to command them, he had been testing Malcom for years, making sure he was up to snuff when the brass made their review.


Malcom looked to his right as the door opened, he knew the other marines in their unit knew their jobs. Their squad leaders were rattling off similar orders as they prepared for the jump, the bay doors to the C-17 began lowering with a mechanical thrumming followed by the sound of air whipping into the cabin. Malcom pulled his flight goggles on, unbelted himself, and stood up, his drop cord still attached to the overhead line. He looked back at the other troops behind him, "Follow me in Three Seconds!" He shouted over the noise. Malcom ran to the edge of the ramp, and did something he wish he never had to do again, Jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. He looked down beneath him, New York City was burning, the central hub for the East Coast of America, was a perfect depiction of Hell itself, and there, a mile beneath him, were the hordes of hungry monsters that had once been the population of that city. Malcom stared ahead in terror, gritting his teeth as he fell into the oblivion of that hell.


-End Flashback-

​



As though a nightmare chasing him through his life, they were there again, humans, mutated, altered, changed, most of them half eaten monsters, all of them in cryo suits. Malcom shuddered as he took a knee, staying towards the left hand side of the wall, he aimed down the corridor, beyond the opening he knew would lead to the hallway that Captain Woods was down.


He shouted out, "Captain, Get your ass down here! Double time!"


He fired off the railgun, right into the midst of the mob, and watched as it carved a radioactive path of death through the mob of creatures. He took a second to reload his railgun before pulling out the first of his 9mm handguns. Still on his knees as the mob began running towards him with a violent scream he began to fire, each bullet passing through the heads of each target he picked, he counted his shells as he fired, in his head, One, through the eye and out the back of the skull of a female. Two, Through the forehead and out the back of a male, it's blood spattering on it's fellows, it's body falling back. Three, taking the jaw and lower half of the skull of another male, Four, a shot through the cheek of a female, up and into her brain, and out the back end.


When the Captain would arrive, he would shout, "Make them count captain!"


In total, there were probably fifty of the monstrous creatures to begin with, his rail gun had killed around twelve with it's first shot. Malcom's eyes were cold as he sent each of them to their deaths, he would mourn the lives he was being forced to take later.
 
Nidelia jumped awake as an alarm sounded on the computer and it brought up the security camera showing Malcolm fighting off the hordes of them. "Malcolm," she yelped leaping up from her seat. She had left two other guns in the showers. They would need them. She ran over to the door and unlocked it.


She ran out not even bothering to shut the door as she went to take a turn and slipped on her bare feet. Her heart was pounding. Not from the physical exertion on her body, but the fact Malcolm was in danger.


Within two minutes she'd reached the showers and grabbed the other two guns. She had three. She quickly went running out. She had memorized the path to where he was back in the control room.


Several turns her bare feet slipped, but it seemed her acrobatics were coming back to her now much more limber body as she was able to catch herself gracefully and keep going.


Within another two minutes. She was ten feet from reaching them. "MALCOLM!" She yelled and threw one of the guns at him. If the captain was there she would throw one at him as well.
 
Jace had arrived with a not-so happy look on his face. His eyes peering over the steps at the woman that had been walking around the be-headed creature. "You rang?" He'd ask, not really expecting any of the two women there to get the Adam's Family reference. His still semi-wet feet made a pit-pat sound on the cement steps as he walked down them. His gun in his right hand and his duffle bag in his left. "I just took a shower... So unless you two feel like either washing me again yourselves... or getting me some new clothes... -" He'd pause to look over at Bianca then back to Rys. "I suggest you think up a clean way for me to carry it." His chest heaved once as he took in a deep breath, exhaling as he rolled his shoulders around as if he were getting himself 'pumped up'. He looked the creature over as he went over to where its head was, raising his foot upwards with a sneer. "Some creature came back to life in the showers after its head was skewered... So you may want to be careful." He'd then step over the head, heading over towards her, standing around nine inches from her with a piercing stare down into her eyes. "...Any ideas?"
 
He started at the urgency in the LtCol's voice, he moved quickly, prepping the rifle and Beretta he on hand, and abandoning the bag, though he did stop to retrieve the ammo clips he'd retrieved before, stashing them in his pockets. Weapons hot, he was ready to go, sprinting down the hall where he'd meet up with Lt.Col Devontess.


He tapped the comm. "En route, sir." He said, huffing, just as he lept and rolled through the doorway just as Malcom fired the rail gun. Jesus! The man said to come in hot, but this is ridiculous!


He turned, crouching near the wall on Malcom's right, and aimed down his SCAR's iron sights firing short bursts into the heads of the unfortunate souls before him, mentally counting out how many shells hit the ground...


Two count, three count, wait, four? A little heavy on the trigger there, Woods. Oughta be ashamed of, three count, yourself! Damn, five? And you call yourself a Ranger! Jones would cry if he saw this shoddy performance...


He'd emptied his first clip, released it and slotted in another, cocking it. He only nodded when the Lt.Col addressed him, all his focus was on the task at hand.


He continued firing until his second clip ran out, figuring he'd downed maybe fifteen, and dropped the rifle before unholstering his trust M9 Beretta.


He'd fired off two shots from the pistol's fifteen-round mag when he heard it...


"MALCOM!" someone shouted, distracting him.


That's when things started to go sour...


One of the infected humans, a blonde female who was probably quite attractive before everything went down, rammed into him forcing him against the wall and to drop his Beretta. He struggled with for a few seconds, only just managing to throw her off and into Malcom's line of sight, only to have a pistol fly into him without any warning. He caught it, shooting a glare at the culprit before grabbing hold of his Beretta and dual-wielding both and began downing more of the infected humans, seemingly unmoved by their grotesque and grisly origins.
 
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Malcom had become the machine, He was an instrument of battle. He emptied his pistol into the incoming mob, each shot counting. There were only about twenty of the freaks left standing at this point, and for some reason, they were in a group. Malcom didn't grin, he didn't relish in it, he found no satisfaction in the act, he simply dropped his pistol to the ground, raised his rail gun again, which had primed, and raised it smoothly firing off a shell in the same motion. The Whirr, click Whunt followed by the sickening explosion of gore that sprayed the hallway red finished the encounter. Malcom knelt down, and retreived the pistol he had dropped, and the one thrown by Nidelia. He pulled the slide back on it and stepped over to the bodies laying on the floor. He looked back at the captain for a moment, his face made of stone.


"Any of them that move still, Put a bullet through their head, Don't miss any." He went to work himself, kicking bodies aside, he found one still moving, it seemed to beg him for mercy. But then Malcom knew what they were, what had happened to them. He raised his gun, aimed it at the creatures head, and pulled the trigger wordlessly. He would do this until the hall was empty of life besides those still standing.
 
Rys looks at Jace. "Malcolm needs you upstairs with weapons now!" She barked at him. Then blinked.


Nidelia heard Rys tell Jace. "Negative on that Dr. Rinnel, he got it under control," she says and looks over all the bodies. She had not witnessed the virus taking over dead bodies, so she had no idea what this was. "Malcolm? What is this? What happened to these bodies?" She asks shakily.


Rys shook her head. "Never mind, apparently they got it under control," she says waving Jace off as she keeps looking over the body.
 
Woods jerked to the side before Malcom fired off his railgun into the last grouping of infected. He shut his eyes before he was showered in their ancient gore, probably staining his fatigues. He grimaced, wiping his face and surveying the scene. Whatever it was the Lt.Col had, it was certainly effective. He holstered his Beretta after checking it's magazine. Nine rounds left. He checked the 9mm, finding thirteen rounds out of seventeen.


He nodded to the Lieutenant Colonel, "Sir." before checking for survivors among those not a complete bloody pulp. He found none and so went to retrieve his SCAR, slinging it over his shoulder.


Alexander looked to the Lieutenant Colonel, "I left a bag of gear back at my pod, sir. Is it safe to collect?"
 
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