Click.
The hidden door slid open.
The "Emergency Passage" wasn't a utilitarian tunnel. It was another lavish corridor, lined with expensive paintings and sculptures.
"Classic Marcus," Havel muttered. "Even his escape route has to be an art gallery."
A few zombies—former researchers who tried to flee and failed—shuffled in the hallway. Havel put them out of their misery with a few well-placed shotgun blasts.
"Sorry, guys. You shouldn't have blocked the road."
At the end of the corridor, they found a heavy oak door. It led into a large, ornate study.
Marcus's Office.
Creak...
They pushed the door open.
The room was furnished in medieval style, with heavy drapes and antique furniture. But dominating the center of the room was something bizarre.
A massive chessboard was set into the floor.
The black and white tiles were huge, and the pieces—Kings, Queens, Rooks, Bishops, Knights, and Pawns—were carved from stone and stood as tall as a person.
It was a life-sized game of chess.
On the massive mahogany desk in the corner sat a normal-sized chessboard. The pieces on the small board were arranged in a specific pattern: a checkmate scenario in progress.
"Chess?"
Rebecca stared at the giant stone pieces. "Did Dr. Marcus really like board games this much?"
"It's not about liking games," Havel sighed, walking over to a stone Knight. He tried to push it. It barely budged.
"It's a mechanism. And a workout. Think about it. Does a genius scientist really have time to push around stone statues that weigh as much as a fridge just to play a game?"
"This isn't recreation. It's a lock."
"He's right," Billy agreed, looking at the desk. "No one has the energy for this after a twelve-hour shift in the lab."
Havel walked over to the desk and examined the small board.
"Okay. Here's the deal. The small board is the key. The big board is the lock."
On the desk, the white King was cornered by a black Pawn. Two white pieces—a Rook and a King—were in specific positions.
"We need to arrange the big pieces to match the small board exactly. If we do, something should unlock."
"Billy, Rebecca. You stay here by the desk. Guide me. Tell me where to move the pieces. I'll do the heavy lifting."
"Be careful," Rebecca warned. " knowing this place, if you move the wrong piece..."
"I know, I know. Explosions, death, poison. I got it."
Havel walked onto the giant grid. He grabbed a massive white Rook.
Grind... Scrape...
He shoved it across the tiles. It was grueling work.
"Okay, Rook to H2... done."
"Now the King..."
Havel looked at the board. A black Pawn was blocking his path to the King's designated square.
"This Pawn is in the way," Havel muttered. "I'll just move it aside for a second so I can slide the King in."
It seemed logical. Just clear the path, then put it back.
He grabbed the black Pawn and shoved it.
CLICK.
A loud mechanical snap echoed through the room.
It wasn't the sound of a door unlocking. It was the sound of a trap springing.
HISS—!!!
From the base of the Pawn, vents popped open. A thick cloud of green gas spewed out, instantly filling the center of the room.
"Crap!"
Havel's eyes widened behind his gas mask.
"POISON GAS!"
"Rebecca! Billy! Cover your faces! Don't breathe it in!"
He had triggered the "Illegal Move" penalty. In chess, you can't just shove an opponent's piece out of the way unless you capture it. And this board was strict about the rules.