Hawkins National Laboratory Flashlight Novels & Stories

NIGHT. HALO engages night and heat vision, watching the mercenaries become red figures against the intense brightness of the night-vision in his optics. He unholsters then raises his rifle, and a light sound of metal emanates as he disperses one of the quarter-sized disks. It falls in the centre of the enclosure, and one mercenary looks down. Shining his flashlight on the ground. He sees it, grows alarmed as his head tilts in confusion, but he picks it up and sticks it in his pocket.

We’re both pretending we’re braver than we are, and I’m not in the mood to unpack that emotional suitcase right now. After a few more steps, I stop. “Wait.” Parker’s instantly alert. “What? What is it?” I rummage in my pocket like a raccoon desperate for loose snacks and instead come up with—“Ha.” A flashlight. I forgot I shoved this thing in here before we left the castle. I flick it on. A weak, flickering beam cuts through the thick dark like a tiny sword made of batteries and bad decisions. Parker leans in. “That’s it?”

“Hawkins came to me months ago… He wanted money and supply lines for a secret biology project. I didn’t know all the details, I swear! It was supposed to be some kind of genetic enhancement for humans on a big scale.” “Who else?” Ara pressed, keeping the blade steady. “Who else is he working with to roll this out?” Sergey swallowed, glancing at the fight behind her. “There was always one man with him during meetings. A shadow. Hawkins never said his name or showed his face. They didn’t meet at offices. They always talked at an old underground arcade in the abandoned downtown area…” *THWIP.* A sharp bullet smashed through the window behind them and went straight through the back of Sergey’s h

I commented in my mind. Fine. If she wants difficult, then difficult she gets. Over the past few years, I have been working on a small Electromagnetic Pulse generator. I designed it to be small, so it could be easily concealed. I removed my watch and pressed a series of buttons. The moment I completed the sequence, the lights all around us went out. We were thrown into darkness.

"They’re here." They dived into the barn, sliding through the trapdoor just as a searchlight cut through the roof, illuminating the dust motes like falling diamonds. Below, the Origin Point lab was a hive of activity. Clara had the vacuum tubes humming, the amber glow of the 1980s monitors casting long, distorted shadows across the blueprints.

Neema trailed them, her eyes wide with lingering adrenaline. Baraka’s face broke into a massive, relieved smile. "You made it." "Barely," Musa coughed, spitting a lingering taste of saltwater onto the dirt floor. "Turns out the UN doesn't like it when you break their toys. They dropped a tungsten rod from orbit, boss. Mach 10 kinetic strike. The entire lighthouse is a crater." "But the relay?" Baraka pressed, his violet eyes locking onto Jabari. "Shattered," Neema confirmed, offering a weak smile. "I hit the main transmission dish with a concentrated sonic pulse. The orbital feed is completely dead. They can't record your Overclock telemetry anymore."

The silence in the sub-basement of the abandoned research facility was a heavy, pressurized weight. We were miles away from the burning remains of the film studio's backlot, hidden in the concrete bowels of an old Cold War-era bunker that had been repurposed by the conglomerate. Kola led the way, his flashlight beam cutting through the gloom to reveal stacks of rusted data reels and heavy-duty shipping crates marked with the same silver hawk logo as the Norton.

"Oh, no." "Power's out," Jax said, his voice close in the dark. "You got a flashlight?" Owen stood up from his chair, bumping his knee hard against the desk. "Ow. Yes. In the back office. Stay here." He shuffled blindly toward the staff door, his arms outstretched. He found the frame and slipped through, feeling along the wall. He found the emergency kit on the shelf and fumbled it open, pulling out a heavy flashlight. He clicked it on, and a bright beam cut through the dark. He walked back out to the main floor.

Ben implored. The three of them reluctantly headed down the pitch-black tunnel with only flashlights taken from the hardware store. They brought extra batteries in case they got lost and had to turn back. Paul grabbed some spray cans of carburetor cleaner and lighters to use as a make-shift flamethrower weapon in case they ran into… something else.