Sandwich Fiction #5 submitted 2009.12.10 05:33 PM by Flack viewed 362 times | |||||
| Jason couldn't be sure if the other officers in the conference room had any idea of his recent activities. His darting eyes had nearly given him away during last night's impromptu debriefing with the boss. In spite of the reticent image he'd created and upheld, the recent events made it nearly impossible to contain his growing paranoia. There was no doubt in his mind that every single person in the building, let alone the complex, knew he had the antidote. Still fighting the urge to break into a panicked run down the crowded hall, he managed to turn the corner into his office and quickly lock the door behind him. Jason pulled the two vials of fluid from his coat pocket and held them together in his hands; cold sweat accumulated on his brow as he pondered the outcome of his next action. A bloom of panic fired in his stomach as he noticed the slightly darker color of the volatile liquids in his hands, their reaction to the change in temperature from the case happening faster than he had anticipated. If they continued to heat up at this rapid of a rate, the liquid would soon burn right through the glass, his hands, the floor, and the heads of anyone immediately below him. Nevertheless, he knew he had to keep this situation as mum as possible so word didn't get out that he was responsible for the outbreak. And suddenly, in the still of the night, an owl farted in the distance, paralyzing Jason in his tracks. The odd strange noise in the quiet black of night did little to calm his anxiety. | |||||
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