Experiment TCA-276 (pt 3)

                “Almost there.” Morgan grunted, hoisting Rita up into the office chair. Rita stifled a cry as her leg caught on the corner of the desk. Morgan grabbed a box and propped her foot up and tried to make her more comfortable.

                “Call the police,” Rita said through clenched teeth. “I need an ambulance. We need help.”

                “Right.” Morgan snatched up the desk phone and dialed 9-1-1. “What should I say? They’re going to think I’m crazy,” Morgan asked as it rang.

                “Uh-“ Rita gripped her thigh, her eyes squeezed shut. “A break in. We were attacked. We trapped them in a room for now.”

                “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” an operator came on the line.

                “Uh, yeah, my name is Morgan Andrews. I’m at the city morgue. We’ve had a break in. They attacked us and my coworker needs an ambulance. We locked them in a room-“

                “How many?”

                Morgan glanced at Rita and mouthed the question to her, but Rita shrugged. She couldn’t say twenty-five, that would be too unbelievable.

                “Four men.”

                “Okay, units are on their way and we will send an ambulance. Stay calm and call back if anything else happens.”

                “Okay.” Morgan hung up. “Cops are coming and an ambulance. I’m going to go upstairs to wait for them. Are you alright for now?”

                “I’ll be fine.” Rita’s breath was coming in gasps, but she looked determined, so Morgan nodded and headed for the stairs.

                Morgan paced the lobby, watching out the front window. It wouldn’t be long; a town this size with nothing crazy ever happening, she wouldn’t be surprised if the entire force showed up.

                After only five minutes, two police cars pulled into the lot with their lights flashing. Two officers stepped out of each car and drew their guns. But just as they started to rush for the door, shots rang out and Morgan jumped.

                All four officers crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from head wounds. Morgan screamed, but couldn’t look away. Emerging from the trees at the back side of the lot was a group of people dressed all in black. Their heads were covered with hoods and they each held a lethal looking gun in their hands.

                Morgan locked the door and ran back down the stairs, not waiting to see what they did next. She locked the door to the stairway behind her and rushed back to the office.

                “What is it?” Rita asked, eyes widening as Morgan tried to catch her breath. “What happened now?”

                “The cops,” Morgan gasped. “They’re dead. People from – the trees – shot them all.”

                “People from the trees?”

                “I don’t know. Hooded. All in black. Big guns.”

                “Okay, okay, breath.”

                Morgan tried to slow her breathing and grabbed the phone off the desk again to call for more help.

                “Oh no.” Morgan’s hand fell to her side. “The line is dead. Do you have your cell phone?”

                Rita patted at her pockets, grimacing when her leg shifted on the box. “No. It must be in the OR.”

                “Mine too…”

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