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David Haller (xgene) wrote,

The touch was unexpected, gloves or not though,it helped center David just enough to open his eyes again and offer Sydney a nod, plus a warning of her own. Be careful. He could make sure she wasn't found, that connection between them more than enough to ensure he could do that much -- but otherwise she was on her own. She had, of course, proven herself more than capable of staying safe, protecting herself and others when he'd been more than useless... this was an extreme situation though, and the fear was both striking and crippling.

Moving was simply out of the question though, doing anything but fighting this, fighting it, wasn't happening.

And so Syd was on her own, in a building that had obviously taken its fair share of abuse. Like an animal degrading to the elements, the walls having crumbled leaving the metal-bone structure open and bare indicated the wear and tear. None had come to clean anything up, save for a small indication, a blood trail of a body being dragged to a corner where only ash and black marks on the wall remained.

The elevator itself looked equally as dilapidated. Run down in a way that elevators left alone from the 20's might be, and just as loud when brought to life with the simple touch of a button. But it worked -- a red light in a corner turning green after a pause of exactly four seconds. The lurching, rusted groan of wires and cogs sounded and took Syd lower, deep, deep underground, that small green light the only one that remained once the bunker floor was reached. Still no voice echoed from the speaker, which looked to be unaffected... but silent nonetheless.

In the lower level, there was only a dim, orange light -- steady and unflickering, it painted the barren hallways in a grim manner. The clang of the elevator's doors continued to echo in every direction for several long, uneasy seconds. Then a form moving away, a little hurried -- nervous.

Only to be interrupted by a great, powerful cry sounding to Syd's right as she was body-checked into the wall, the full-weight of another pushing her to the hard concrete and down to the ground before stepping away. Bat in hand, wrapped in barbed wire, a blue light blinking furiously from a small device attached to a low-hanging belt, and long black hair flowing around an angry face -- Kerry's face. Older, even more severe than before.

"Who are you?!" She demanded, hands wringing around the base of the bat, practically itching to swing. Her eyes were dark, threatening. There was no denying the face in front of her, but who was really wearing it? That's all she needed to know before she destroyed it, the mockery, the cruel joke of whoever the hell this was.

The retreating form swiftly ran back, Cary's own voice calling out, "Kerry! Kerry stop!" Kerry, obviously conflicted, didn't draw away, but her white-knuckled grip eased somewhat. Drawing closer, into the somewhat-better light, he looked down at Syd, also older, a scar drawn from his forehead across his nose and carving deep into his cheek. "You know I programmed that elevator to only accept six genetic structures to activate," he offered to try and calm the younger woman down -- who still didn't seem convinced.

Cary, frowning deeply as he glanced Kerry's way, returned his eyes to the blonde woman on the ground. "What year is it?" He had a hunch, it was a stretch, but it was worth a shot.