“What’s that got to do with Lopez?” said Lucy.
“You’ve got it all wrong, Lucy. The question is, what’s Major Lopez got to do with the survival of eighty thousand other civilians? If he’s not contagious, then the answer is: nothing,” said Adrian.
“So get him released!” urged Lucy.
“My ability to protect this city’s interests directly correlates to the social capital I have in that council. I can’t squander any more of my influence on the Major’s case,” said Adrian.
“Adrian, please, I’m begging you to intervene,” said Lucy.
“If you feel guilty because you made the wrong choice, that’s on you. I have bigger problems to deal with than your conscience,” said Adrian.
“Two floors above you, right now, a man’s human rights are being violated. You’re a senator and it’s happening on your watch. If people like you turn a blind eye, what does that mean for the rest of us?” said Lucy.
Adrian looked at her with a deep grimace as he composed himself.
“Don’t try and twist this. I have spent my life defending civil rights. Try walking in my shoes for fifty years before you lecture me about ethics. I am protecting the population,” said Adrian.
“You’re condoning torture,” said Lucy.
“I’m doing no such thing,” snapped Adrian.
“You’re allowing it to happen, so it’s the damned same,” said Lucy.
“I have to focus on the bigger picture, for all our sakes,” said Adrian.
“Oh I’m sorry to weigh you down with the minutiae of such a small, lowly case, Senator. A man’s life is being pulled apart minute by minute, but I can see how that’s not worth your time. Please, carry on washing your hands because you only deal with the big stuff. It must be nice, having that kind of long lens view of the world, where you never get too close to the detail of what’s actually going on beneath you,” said Lucy.
Adrian shook his head in exasperation.
“If we become embroiled in every individual case of misery and suffering in this city, then we’ll end up sleep walking over the precipice en masse. Appeals, reconsiderations, they’re luxuries we don’t have anymore, Lucy. It’s time to get real,” said Adrian.
“Would you be saying this if it was Dan?” said Lucy.
“Don’t you dare-” began Adrian.
“If it was your boy being tortured upstairs, and the politician below didn’t have time to intervene?” said Lucy.
“Lucy, I’m warning you,” said Adrian.
“He said you always did the right thing, but maybe he never saw behind the curtain,” said Lucy.
“It would seem that cuts both ways. I never expected you of all people to attempt such a brutal and cynical manipulation,” said Adrian.
“How would Dan feel if he knew that you stood by and did nothing while a loyal soldier was tortured by his own side,” said Lucy.
“Get out,” said Adrian, his voice quivering.
“If you feel guilty because you made the wrong choice, that’s on you, Senator. I have bigger problems to deal with than your conscience,” said Lucy.
“How dare you. How dare you!” bellowed Adrian as Lucy marched towards the door.
“If you won’t help me save him, there are others who will. And I should warn you, Adrian, they don’t think kindly of you,” spat Lucy, slamming the door as she went.
***
“Watch it,” yelled a stranger, as Lucy collided with his shoulder.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, wiping tears from her eyes as she hurried towards the metro. Evening sun bounced off the arching glass entrance. Adrian’s voice was still ringing in her ears.
“Turn around,” hissed another stranger, jostling against her.
“Back up, move away, right now!” cried a soldier, shoving Lucy backwards, and snapping her out of her daze.
Scores of people were pouring up from the metro and spilling onto the sidewalk in a panic. Soldiers and paramedics were pushing through them to get into the station below, battling their way down the narrow escalators, against the flow of hundreds of civilians fleeing upwards. Some of the evacuees were crying. All wore the same, naked look of fear as they stampeded onto street level.
Sirens sounded as more military trucks arrived on the scene, with reinforcements leaping out and hurrying below ground. Medical staff from the Emergency Department rushed to the forecourt on foot, wheeling stretchers beside them.
“Help us, please!” cried a terrified teenager, trying to shield her father’s body from the charging crowds.
Lucy sprinted towards the girl, fighting to stay on her own feet as she fought the torrent of people. She grabbed the man’s arm and helped drag him to the side. Gunshots rang out from the platform, echoing through the concrete tunnels, and scattering the screaming crowd further.
The father’s jacket and shirt had been torn open from behind, exposing his shoulder. A razor-thin cut ran perfectly along the length of his shoulder blade, drenching his back and Lucy’s hands in warm blood. Around his neck were two rows of pinkish-purple sucker marks, like the imprints of a marine tentacle. Lucy lay him flat, sealing the parted flesh and stemming some of the bleeding.
“We need help over here,” she cried, frantically waving a stretcher team over.
The paramedics rushed towards them and dragged the man onto a trolley. Without a backward glance they raced off towards the Emergency Department, with the daughter hurrying behind them. More staff rushed out from the hospital to assist the wounded, catching blood-soaked stragglers as they surfaced. Lucy gasped in horror as Adrian raced past her down the metal steps, his handgun drawn.
“Move away!” yelled a soldier, shoving Lucy back as more gunshots rang out from the station.
***
“I’m saying I can’t take it anymore,” cried a woman, tugging at her scarf anxiously.
The replacement bus was packed. Lucy could feel bodies pressing against her in all directions as the vehicle slugged forwards. She gripped the overhead rail tightly, closing her eyes and focusing on the sensation of the cold, hard metal against her palm.
“Will somebody shut her up already,” growled a man, whose pants were dotted with crimson.
“You need to get those burned,” said another, warily eyeing up his blood stains.
“You think I don’t know that?” snapped the man.
“We’re all gonna die here,” wailed the woman in the scarf, sobbing into her friend’s arms.
“Lady, either get off the bus and kill yourself or shut the hell up so the rest of us can get on with living,” yelled the man, his eyes bulging.
“It’s hopeless, it’s all hopeless,” wept the woman, oblivious to his objections.
“Bitch, I’m telling you, one more word from you and I’m coming back there,” yelled the man.
The woman howled incoherently.
“Right, that’s it,” yelled the man, shoving past a bunch of passengers.
“Hey, watch it,” said Lucy, as he barged against her.
“You shut it too or you’ll be next,” growled the man.
“Try me,” said Lucy, shoving him back.
The man glared at her, incandescent with rage. The bus lurched sideways again, knocking Lucy’s forehead against his chin. With a roar, the man struck her hard in the face. The passengers around him erupted in protest, and the bus slammed to a halt. Lucy fell backwards, dazed. The bodies above sealed around her, shutting out the yelling man. The side doors hissed open and his protestations faded into the street as the other passengers bundled him off. Lucy’s fleeting relief vanished as pairs of hands scooped her off the floor and thrust her out after him.
The doors sealed behind them and the bus pulled away, leaving Lucy sat on the sidewalk, staring at its diminishing license plate in disbelief.
“Happy?” said the man, spitting as he walked away.
Lucy pressed her fingers to her cheek and eye, which were throbbing with pain. There was no blood, but she could feel th
e swelling already. She covered the blurry eye with one hand and took in the buildings around her. Home was still a good dozen blocks away. With a grunt, she picked herself up and set off on foot.
***
“Lucy,” hissed Fliss, from the darkened hedgerow by the entrance to their residence. “Oh my god, what happened?” she said, aghast, as Lucy got closer.
“Nothing. Why are you hiding?” said Lucy, squinting to make the girl out in the last of the evening light.
“Come with me,” whispered Fliss, leading Lucy to a maintenance door at the side.
Lucy followed Fliss down into the basement of their building, where a bunch of washing machines were churning laundry in rows. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a dim pale light around the room. Fliss hastened to the furthest machine and slipped behind it, with Lucy in tow.
“What the hell is this?” said Lucy, aghast.
In a cavity behind the row of machines sat a bedraggled-looking man. He was in his late forties, and looked to be of Eastern European descent. He was gagged, and tied to a wheelchair.
“It’s OK – he’s one of us,” said Jack, stepping out from the shadows.
“You mean-” began Lucy.
“He’s infected,” said Fliss, sliding the man’s sleeve back to reveal the advanced lesions.
“Why the hell is he down here?” said Lucy.
“I saw his skin at the casino. He was too scared to go to the hospital but I told him you could help,” said Fliss.
“So you tied him up?” hissed Lucy.
“He was acting weird – like he’s hallucinating. Sometimes he makes sense but then he switches. He was starting to draw attention to himself so we had to hide him,” said Jack.
“What am I supposed to do with him?” said Lucy, staring at the drowsy man.
“Take him to the hospital – you can explain what’s going on. You work there, so they’ll listen to you, right?” said Fliss.
“The hospital isn’t safe for people like us,” said Lucy.
“But you said-” began Fliss.
“Forget what I said. He’ll have to figure it out on his own,” said Lucy.
“If we leave him alone, he’ll get discovered,” said Fliss.
“That’s not our problem,” said Lucy.
“We could’ve said that about you,” said Jack.
“Lucy, what’s going on?” said Fliss, anxiously.
Lucy welled up with tears and clutched her head in anguish. Fliss rushed over and placed a comforting arm around her.
“They’ve got a patient like us in the hospital already. They’re not treating him, they’re experimenting on him. He’s only in there because I –” said Lucy, faltering as guilt overcame her.
“What about your senator, can he help?” said Fliss.
“No, I tried,” said Lucy, her voice quivering.
“Give him time, Lucy, he’ll come around – right, Jack?” said Fliss, cueing in her brother for support.
“Totally,” said Jack, uncertainly.
“It’ll be too late – he needs help now,” said Lucy.
“Wait, is this the guy from the casino?” said Fliss.
“Major Lopez. I owe him my life and they’re torturing him to death,” choked Lucy.
“Then we need to break him out,” said Fliss, appalled.
“It’s not as easy as that. You’d need to get past security, face scanners, cell locks – and that’s before you even try to get him out of the building. What are we gonna do, smuggle him across town in a hospital gown? I don’t even know if he’d be able to walk, let alone run,” said Lucy.
“Then we’ll get a wheelchair. The streets are dark during curfew, we could do it then,” said Fliss.
“If they suspect I’m involved, they’ll find a way to trace him,” said Lucy.
“He’s a soldier, right? What if someone in your lab ‘forgot’ to lock the cell, or left some equipment behind? Someone with military training would seize that sort of opportunity to escape, surely? There’s no clear link to you if we can frame it as someone else’s mistake,” said Fliss.
“Plus once we’re outside he could help us evade the night patrols,” said Jack.
“Assuming he’s conscious enough. We’d still need an insider at the lab, though,” said Lucy.
“Or a diversion. I heard a rumor that the People’s Voice are planning something for a few days’ time,” said Fliss.
“I don’t know if he can last that long,” said Lucy, contemplating the stress testing he would be experiencing that very moment.
“You’re in the lab, Lucy. You’ll have to make sure he does,” said Fliss.
The man in the chair groaned and raised his head. He jerked in panic, feeling the binds against his hands and ankles.
“Shh, Kryz, it’s OK – it’s us, remember? Is it safe for us to remove the gag?” said Fliss, placing her hands soothingly on the man’s arm. The gesture reminded Lucy of how she would try to lift her father’s spirits as child, when he missed her mom, and had drunk himself into a sorry state.
Kryz blinked Fliss into focus and nodded. She removed the gag and the man sighed with relief, swiftly wiping his mouth on his shoulder, mopping up the excess saliva dribbling from his chin.
“This is Lucy, she’s the one I told you about,” said Fliss, stepping aside.
“Kryz, before I help you, I need you to tell me how you got infected, and whether you’ve been in contact with anyone since your skin changed,” said Lucy.
His answers were everything Lucy had dreaded; Kryz was living proof that the disease was spreading through the city. If he had infected anyone else, those people were at risk of being found by the department as soon as their symptoms broke. Lucy knew she had to get to them first.
“We need to set up a safe place – away from here. There could be more infected people coming,” said Lucy, addressing the teenagers.
“I know a place we could use. There’s an empty law office three blocks away. I’ll bet you anything it’s got a library in the basement – no-one would see us down there, and the shelves could work as beds,” suggested Jack.
“OK. Kryz, we’re gonna move you. Can you stand?” said Lucy, untying his restraints.
He nodded with determination, swaying as he stood and scratching his inflamed skin like he was going through withdrawal.
“Let’s do this quickly. God help us if we get caught,” said Lucy.
***
They crept along the sidewalk, sticking to the shadows wherever possible, trying to keep out of the street lights, which hadn’t yet been extinguished for the night.
“Get down,” said Fliss, grabbing Jack and pulling him to the side.
Lucy copied and pulled Kryz behind the hedgerow. They held their breaths as an army patrol rounded the corner and rumbled by.
“Nobody move,” whispered Jack, his voice suddenly strained.
Lucy followed his gaze to the branches above them and a chill shot through her spine. A creature was staring back at them and shuffling nervously in the branches. Its fur bristled and stood on end as it let out a low, menacing hiss. The pulsations across its slender body were mesmerizing. Kryz stared at the creature in utter horror.
“Stay absolutely still, it’s not here for us,” whispered Lucy, sensing the man’s fear.
Kryz let out a whimper, prompting the creature to hiss louder. It shuffled anxiously, rattling the bush. The pulsations quickened across its torso. Kryz began to moan.
“Don’t. Move,” breathed Lucy, clamping a hand over his mouth.
With a rasp, the creature’s tail dropped down through the lower branches like a pendulum. Kryz wailed and scrambled out from beneath the hedge in a panic. The creature screeched in shock and sprung out from the hedge and onto the street. Fliss leaped up and tackled Kryz to the ground, pinning him on the grass and stifling his cries until Jack and Lucy slid the gag back into place.
The creature darted across the road, causing the patrol car to swerve and open fire.
Lucy’s group stayed down as the commander bellowed into his radio and chased after the creature, speeding into the neighboring block.
Lucy and Fliss grabbed Kryz and hurried after Jack. He led them through the back streets, weaving between disused homes, and avoiding occupied ones, until they reached the abandoned office just as the street lights went out. They broke into the basement and quickly bound Kryz, who was sinking further into delirium.
With evening roll call imminent, Lucy knew they couldn’t risk both her and Fliss being absent from their halls much longer. But they needed to find water for Kryz, and leave a message to reassure him in moments of lucidity. Jack opted to stay behind and prepare the patient for the days ahead – knowing he could count on his roommate to cover for him for a few hours of curfew absence. Lucy and Fliss, however, had no such fallback. They hastened back to the halls, ducking and weaving through the darkened neighborhood to retrace their steps.
“Stop,” said Lucy, grabbing Fliss’s jacket and pulling her into a squat. A patrol car was parked on the adjacent street. Its engine was off, but its headlights illuminated the sidewalk, and the yard leading up to a house. The front door was open, and light from the hallway spilled outside. A muffled gunshot rang out, accompanied by a flash from the upstairs window.
A ferret-like creature leaped through the doorway and onto the steps, where a second bullet struck it before it could leap again. The creature screeched in agony. Its tall, ridged spine shivered, expanding and contracting with sharp, erratic breaths. A resident ran out from the house, crying in anguish. He grabbed a rock from the yard and brought it crashing down against the creature’s skull. The creature’s yelps faded with each blow, until the night air was filled only with the man’s desperate grunts and the sound of rock striking bone. A soldier appeared alongside the man. Tenderly, she pulled him from the creature’s carcass, and sat him down on the steps.
A blast of white noise crackled through the soldier’s radio, forcing Lucy’s stomach to tighten like a knot. The soldier mumbled something in response and released the trigger, prompting a second blast of white noise. The sonic distortions shot Lucy’s mind back to the lab, to Lopez’s cell. Her head felt light as the experiment flooded back; guilt gnawed at her from within, as she couldn’t help but envisage the agony and distress he would be experiencing at that very moment.
Convulsive Box Set Page 60