2am. Time to do the next walkabout; Sanders closed the book. Wonder what Hawthorn will think of the comics and Zappa obsession.
Ow...A stabbing pain shot through his head and into his eyes.
Fuck. He held his head in his hands, feeling like he was constantly turning upside down; nauseous.
Then it stopped.
Then an alarm went off.
Shit. The screen switched to the right area, splitting into quarters. Nothing there from any angle.
He switched the alarm off; Reassured that no-one could possibly want to break in, he grabbed the phones, a torch and his cosh and set off to investigate.
Typical that it should go off in the furthest part; he'd walked through the factory so many times, he knew exactly he had to go through 8 doors until he was there. Why did he get that pain just before the alarm went off-maybe it was some kind of electro-magnetic interference that caused both.
As he walked through the 7th door into the main open shop floor, another alarm went off. It sounded as if it came from the far left side, beyond the control room.
Jesus, what is going on-4 months and not a squeak and now two together. No pain this time so that's something.
Sanders opened the final door and peered through; the alarm had gone off in the second of two empty storerooms in the area in front of him and to their right, a short corridor lead away to the rear exit. Well, at least the escape route is clear. Odd that the both doors were open; that shouldn't happen and it didn't show on the camera.
By just walking four steps, he could see straight into the first room; nothing there. Closing that door, he could see the other was empty too. Electronic malfunction. Turning away, he caught sight of a tiny glow against the inside wall so he went back in.
On the wall adjoining the first room was the outline of a door as if lit from within. Sanders laughed, 'that's straight out of a movie[ Hawthorn would love this. Standing in front of it, it did look like a door. He heard the X-files theme tune in his head and reached towards it and gave a slight push.
Shit, it was a door but it can't be. A silvery metal corridor opened up, straight from central casting-Dr Who, circa late 1970s.
Jesus, I'm off. As he went out of the room, he looked back as the wall reappeared or the door closed. An hour later, all alarms were silent, a check of the cameras had shown nothing but Sanders was still feeling nervous.
Before going out for smoke, he locked all the doors that led up to the control room; no more surprises. Mind you, if whatever it is, can make doorways in the walls, there's no point really.
Outside, it was still totally dark, no stars and barely a moon. Too bizarre really. Sanders half expected to see some shiny UFO above the factory and for that reason, he avoided looking up. I've had enough weirdness, last thing I need is a beam of pink light hitting me. Been reading too many graphic novels and sci-fi.
Shit, the footprints. In the corridor. As soon as he'd finished smoking, he went straight to outside the two doors; there were footprints coming from the opposite wall, straight to the door and through into the room.
By the time, 8 o'clock was near, Sanders felt like a wreck; he'd filed a bare bones report of the alarms and was ready to go as his replacement, Wayne arrived.
"Good morning Sanders-Jesus, what have you done to your face, looks like you burnt it."
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