Sam-Sam the FBI Man: Chapter 2
by Teagan Acoff –
Problem #1: Sam is not a trained field agent. He is a trained sit-on-his-ass-all-day agent. He barely remembers how to shoot the gun strapped to his hip, let alone how to deal with foreign enemies on base.
Problem #2: His bullets are rubber. Meaning, Sam can really piss off whatever is behind those doors, and that’s about it. Which, brings him to …
Problem #3: He definitely is not fast enough to outrun anything, especially if it’s angry. Last week he got chased down by a bitter Girl Scout when he refused her cookies. Blake had to buy six boxes of Savannah Smiles just to get her off Sam’s back, literally.
Sam pauses his hand above the keypad. If he goes in, he could die, or get maimed, or be dismembered, or have his kidneys stolen, or have alien eggs implanted in his stomach. But, on the off chance he survives this, the agency might promote him to field agent. No more webcam duty. No more “Is cereal a soup?” searches. No more moldy mayonnaise incidents.
He types in the code. 1234. High stakes operation his ass.
“Hey,” Sam calls, absolutely not jumping as the door slams shut behind him. “I told you guys my birthday isn’t for another month. You can come out now.” Haha. As if anyone in this place likes him enough to celebrate his existence.
Silence. Shock and awe. Sam grumbles low in his chest. “Surprise parties are overrated anyway.”
Sliding his hand along the wall (literally sliding, Jesus Christ, what’s that fluid he’s touching?), Sam finally finds the cracked light panel and flips the switch. The bunker glows dimly from the few surviving (but shattered) computer screens as they flutter on. All the lights above him are completely destroyed. Bodies of his coworkers, frozen with wide eyes and detailed in blood, line the room in piles. Sam can see gouges in sets of three cut into the walls. Whatever the hell this thing is has claws sharp enough to pierce metal made to withstand nuclear explosions. And, of course, with the computers down, Sam has no access to any of the security footage in that room. So, he gets to fight an unknown, clearly bloodthirsty creature with weapons made to subdue protesters. Alone.
What kind of horror movie bullshit is this?
He kicks the gnawed-off leg of some unfortunate agent and groans. Look, he hasn’t seen Blake’s remains so far, so everything is fine. Maybe he managed to escape and has a better idea of what to do here. Maybe he rounded up a troop of survivors and already has a plan of action in motion. Maybe Sam should’ve just stayed in his office, out of the way, and drunk himself unconscious.
He hears a shuffle nearby. In that moment, of course, the final sparks from the flickering computer screens die out and drench the room in black. Sam whips around as the floor shifts and creaks. Then, he freezes. Maybe this is a T-Rex situation. If he doesn’t move, he won’t be-
Something clutches his leg. Shit.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Yes, okay, he screams, but can you blame him? A second ago, everything in this room was dead. Whatever is touching him now was probably the culprit. At least he doesn’t pass out when the long, thick nails dug into his skin. Sam screams, and screams, and screams, until his voice gives out about five minutes later and he realizes that he’s still alive. And also still being clutched. So this must be another survivor. But, if seemingly all the agents are dead, then who-
“Yoooo-hoooo!” An elderly woman’s voice calls from the floor. The computer screens flicker back on to show President Reba herself, sitting on the floor and latched onto Sam’s leg like a lifeline. “Are you all right, dearie? That was quite the scream. Thought I grabbed onto a young girl for a minute.” She snickers. “Help an old lady up?
God, Sam really wished he had just stayed in his office.
… to be continued
Chapter 1 of Sam-Sam, the FBI Man can be found in the print issue of Owl Light News – 8-10-18. You can also read it online at www.owllightnews.com/sam-sam-the-fbi-man/