By Tim Sevenhuysen
Posted June 19, 2012
305 words
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“Come on!” cried Overard, taking a few steps back towards the tunnel he’d come out of. “You’ve got to help me!”
Jeffries’ eyes were open wide in shock. “Are you saying someone triggered the NCVD? How much time do we have?”
“Libden set it to 10 minutes I think,” said Overard. “We can still get everyone out if we go right now, but I can’t do it alone!”
“Bolter, wait,” said Jeffries. “If the NCVD goes off, we’ve got to be in the air when it happens, or we’re all dead. And Libden’s the real target, anyways!”
“Milly’s locked up, Tic!” said Overard. “And her parents, too, and about a dozen others.”
A vision of bacon and nice, comfy swivel chairs flashed through Tic’s mind. If only… No. No time for that. People were counting on him. “Lead the way, Mak,” he said. “Jeffries, clear that rubble. If we aren’t back in five minutes, leave without us.” Tic and Overard headed for the tunnel.
A shadow caught up to Tic from behind, and he turned to see Dr. Fester following them. “You don’t want to come with us, Doc,” said Tic. “We may not make it out again.”
“You’ll need my help!” cackled the old man. “I predict it.”
Overard brought them swiftly through the tunnel to another large, carved-out room, filled with wires, pipes, computer equipment, and clear vats of fluorescent green liquid, and the corpses of half a dozen of Dunter’s goons. A large silver orb was suspended a few feet off the floor in the middle of the room, and a computer console in front of it was flashing a countdown: 9:08, 9:07, 9:06.
On the other side of the orb, sitting with his hands cuffed to a railing, was Mr. Dunter.
Can Dunter be trusted?
Total Voters: 6
Should Dunter be shown mercy?
Total Voters: 6
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