Bowie was a beautiful and brave boy with a kind and inquisitive heart. Keeping him safe throughout what was to come was paramount to Dante, knowing that Austin too would put their son’s safety above everything. He didn’t want to let his husband and best friend down.
“Come here, kiddo,” Dante grinned as his son appeared in the room in front of him, a pair of dinosaur figurines clutched in his hands. “Do you want to play?”
“Yeah!”
“Which one can I be?” Dante asked as his son bounded toward him, an innocent smile stretched across his face. “Mister Long Neck?”
“He’s a Brachiosaurus dad,” Bowie rolled his eyes. “I told you before!”
Dante laughed. Neither of them had ever pushed him into this, but the little boy could name dinosaurs the two of them had never even heard of – it was seriously impressive at times.
“Okay, okay,” he apologized. “Sorry, can I be him?”
Bowie nodded and Dante picked up the toy and began to act out his part in the scene which his son dictated. Perhaps if their small family could maintain this innocence throughout the disaster, then they could get through it without falling apart. Dante was incredibly scared of what was to come and he definitely didn’t want to deal with it on his own. He smiled at his son as they played together, but inside he was begging his husband to return to them soon. Only once Austin was back in his arms, would he really feel ready to face the danger.
Chapter 10
KW glanced upwards once more at the very space where she knew one of the hidden cameras was located. After being in the underground bunker for as long as she had, there was very little about its secrets that she hadn’t yet uncovered. She knew which cameras were visual only and she knew where audio microphones were hidden too, having used that knowledge to devise a detailed map of the entire bunker and its few but precious dark spots.
That was where she, FM and DM gathered now – in one of the dark spots where their conversation couldn’t be overheard, though a camera still captured their whereabouts. So long as they kept their mouths hidden as they spoke and didn’t give anyone watching a chance to read their lips, they could pretty much hold any conversation they wanted there, though most of the time there were still topics which remained forbidden. After the latest revelations however, one of the rules that KW had put in place herself was finally about to be broken.
“Where are the others? Did you say anything to them about this?”
FM and DM both shook their heads; while none of them had anything against AC and FP, they weren’t trusted as wholly as the others were. The three that met in the dark spot were much closer and as a result, were the only people that KW wanted involved in her plan. She knew the fewer people that knew about it, the more chance it had of success. If it were possible, she would’ve tried it alone, but even she had to admit that three heads were better than one and there were some things that she couldn’t manage entirely by herself.
“Good,” she smiled. “I assume you’ve figured out what I want to speak to you both about?” She paused and waited for her two accomplices to nod, all of them trying to keep the conversation to a minimum just in case other cameras or microphones that they were unaware of had been installed recently. Though that was near impossible as no one other than the five of them had set foot in the bunker for almost a year. KW still didn’t trust the leader and the government who had locked them down there – especially since they had gone back on their word to release them once they had accomplished their mission.
“Do either of you have any ideas? I’ve gone over my plans again and still can’t find a better option than the chutes, they seem like the only unmanned way in or out of this place.”
KW was talking – rather unfortunately – about the waste disposal chutes which led out of the bunker from the communal bathroom and ended, so they all assumed, somewhere in the sewer system well below the city. Every other way out of the underground bunker was too well guarded. It would take them years of planning, on a private network they didn’t have, to crack the codes. Then intense training in hand-to-hand combat to overpower the guards that stood just beyond. Sadly, for the five people trapped underground, the only glimmer of a chance of escape that they had was squeezing through the waste chutes and navigating their way to freedom through the city sewers. The big problem with that however, was that the chutes were a mere fifteen centimeters across at most. A five-year-old child would have difficulty squeezing through them, let alone five fully grown adults.
“The one other possibility I thought of,” DM suggested, keeping his voice low and much like KW had, glancing at the camera as he spoke. “Was to fake a serious injury or illness. A heart attack or something that would mean someone had to come down here. Then we could try and overpower the guards or steal a key or something.”
KW nodded along, though they had run through this idea before. It resulted in the same issue that the three of them – or five, if they managed to convince AC and FP to be involved – would struggle to overpower the heavily armed and lethally trained guards that ran the underground bunker.
She understood why DM was an advocate for this sort of plan, having spent his life on the outside orchestrating hacks which seemed to end up in physical altercations more often than not. He lived for the exhilaration of the fight and while he might have first entered the bunker as a well built and strong male specimen, months of being trapped underground with minimal rations and zero sunlight had wilted his frame and left him weak and fragile like the rest of them.
“I don’t think it’ll work,” KW replied eventually, shaking her head at DM and letting him down as easily as she knew how. FM put a hand on his arm in apology, the woman’s eyes meeting KW’s and nodding, letting her know that she agreed. It was sometimes odd to be trapped in the bunker with a married couple, but KW relished the reminder of normalcy that it demonstrated. The two hackers had never spent a day apart since they first met and it showed, communicating almost silently with one another and hence managing to share touching moments even when locked in a prison with three other people and countless others watching their every move.
“Sorry.”
DM nodded and shrank backwards slightly, accepting that his idea had been a little farfetched. “So the chutes,” he said instead, “how do you propose we get down them?”
“We need to widen them somehow,” KW replied rather obviously, saying something both DM and FM had been expecting. The words she spoke next however came as a bit of a surprise, both of them looking at her with raised eyebrows and shocked expressions.
“And I think I know how we can do it. I’ve been tinkering with some of the computer wiring in my spare time,” KW continued, “and I think I can fashion an explosive. If I can find a way to fuse the wires together and something to use as a spark, then I think we might be able to blow our way out of here. I think we might actually be able to escape.”
Chapter 11
Austin and Samuel were half way through a meal of cold canned stew and mushy peas when they both froze, hearing the unmistakable sound of someone putting a key in a door and unlocking it. Their eyes moved to the apartment door and watched as the handle started to turn. They’d been inside for a little under an hour and hadn’t heard anyone else in the building. There was no question about what was happening now, though. Their dinner was about to be interrupted.
Austin knew they couldn’t take any chances and put down the can in his hand, picking up the Glock 19 they had taken from the police officer in the sporting goods store. He had little experience with guns, having never owned one himself and only fired one on a handful of occasions. But despite all of that, he felt like he was the better choice to be responsible for it out of the two of them and so gripped it firmly in his hand, while keeping it hidden behind his back.
Both men remained silent as they heard the door unlock and then start to open inwards, whoever was behind it still hidden from sight. Their relief was palpable when an elderly woman shuffled into the
room, holding a walking stick in one hand and entering the apartment slowly, posing no harm to either of them. The old woman didn’t notice them at first, putting her handbag down on a table and turning around to close and lock the door behind her. She then flicked on a light switch and let out a shrill scream as she noticed the two men sitting at her dining room table.
“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Samuel leapt to his feet immediately, holding his hands up in the air to show the woman he meant her no harm. “We’re not going to hurt you, I swear. I’m sorry – we thought this place was abandoned.”
It wasn’t the most lived in apartment either of the men had ever seen, still completely furnished, but with most things coated in a thin layer of dust like they hadn’t been touched in some time. They had both assumed whoever used to live there had left as soon as the Trident news had been announced, leaving their home to the city while they fled and tried to find somewhere safer.
Austin joined Samuel on his feet, quickly hiding the gun in the waistband of his pants. “Please, it’s okay. You don’t need to be scared.”
The woman looked at the two of them. She was clearly still frightened, pressing her back against the locked door.
“My name is Samuel, and this is Austin. We’re both from New York,” Samuel introduced them both quickly, hoping their names and some personal details would put the woman at ease. “And we both used to work at Trident.”
As soon as Samuel uttered his last word, Austin shot him a glare which said he shouldn’t have mentioned that. The woman seemed to quiver even more at the knowledge that they were both from Trident, the name of the former global banking corporation now taboo across the continent.
“We’ll get our stuff and leave,” Samuel continued. “I swear, we both thought this place was empty. We didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You – you,” the woman started to stutter, her soft voice quavered in the atmosphere of the apartment. “You worked at Trident?”
Austin’s heart sunk, knowing that was the piece of information the woman was going to pick up on. From Samuel’s expression it was clear he was worried about being recognized as she peered closely at him.
“Yes,” Austin replied, jumping in before Samuel could answer and taking some of the heat off of his friend. The elderly woman was assessing his face carefully now. “I worked in administration and Samuel was the Marketing Director – neither of us had any involvement in what happened to the money and we’ve both been affected by it ourselves. We’re trying –”
“You’re the man from the television!” The woman pointed an aged finger at Samuel and shook it. “You’re the man who told us all our money was gone for good!”
Samuel’s heart sunk, his shoulders sagged and his chest constricted, waiting for the woman to blame him for what had happened. “I am,” was all he could reply.
“It wasn’t Samuel’s fault,” Austin jumped in. While the old woman certainly couldn’t bring either of them any harm, Austin had spent enough time with Samuel now to recognize when the man was struggling and the fact that he was still being blamed for this disaster was clearly affecting him. “He had nothing to do with the money disappearing,” Austin continued. “In fact, he just wanted to tell the public the truth. He wanted people to know what had really happened rather than the lies Trident wanted everyone to believe. He was trying to help us.”
The woman looked at Samuel more closely, then did the same with Austin. Both of them stayed perfectly still and quiet, Samuel still frightened about her reaction to them while Austin worried about the handgun he had hidden behind his back. It felt like forever passed in silence until the woman finally spoke up again.
“I know it wasn’t anybody’s fault,” she shook her head, making a tutting noise with her tongue as she did so. “I don’t blame you.”
Samuel heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed somewhat as the woman finally moved away from the door, her assessment of the two men seeming to have told her that she wasn’t in danger.
“What did you say your names were again?”
“I’m Samuel, Samuel Westchester,” he answered, turning and following the woman with his eyes as she walked across the room into the kitchen, turning on lights as she went.
“Austin Taylor. I’m really sorry about breaking into your apartment.”
“Oh, you haven’t even broken it,” the old woman remarked, inspecting the window through which the two men had entered. “Thanks for that. I don’t know what I’d do if you had. Super’s long gone.”
Austin looked at Samuel and raised his eyebrows, surprised by the old woman’s attitude. She opened the window and closed it again, making a noise under her breath as she saw it still fastened properly. Austin had managed to jimmy it open with relative ease, and it hadn’t been hard to reattach the fastening once inside to make it look like they hadn’t broken in. The old woman nodded along, turning away from the window and pouring herself a glass of water from the faucet.
“Well I don’t see why the two of you can’t stay here overnight now you’re here,” she spoke, taking the both of them by surprise. “You gave me quite a fright earlier, but you both seem like nice men. It’s been lonely here recently; I won’t mind the company.”
“Are you sure…” Samuel paused, waiting for the woman to fill him in with her name.
“Agnes Porter.”
“Mrs. Porter,” Samuel continued, addressing the woman formally as he still felt uncomfortable in her apartment and like he and Austin would be better off getting out of her way. “We can find somewhere else to stay, really. We would’ve never come in if we knew someone still lived here.”
Agnes Porter let out a little chuckle, looking around her apartment and smiling. “Yes, I suppose it’s not really looking its best in here right now,” she sighed. “I’ve had little motivation to clean since all of this happened.”
Samuel smiled politely and nodded, trying to figure Agnes out. She had been so terrified of them when she first entered the apartment, but now spoke to them like old friends. It was like Agnes had adapted so quickly to life in the disaster that, other than the initial fright, she was fine with whoever was there.
“That’s very kind of you Mrs. Porter,” Austin replied, thanking her for the offer to stay overnight. “We’ll get out of your hair first thing in the morning. We’re on our way to Poughkeepsie to reunite with my family. I’ve got a little boy there who’s waiting for me.”
“Ah, how wonderful,” Agnes smiled, clapping her hands together at the news. “How old is he? What’s his name?”
“Bowie,” Austin replied with a smile. “He’s seven in a couple of weeks.”
“Oh, bless him. We’ll do anything for our children won’t we.” She turned to Samuel. “Do you have any?” She maintained a cheery level of conversation like it was the middle of the day and they were old friends sitting outside of a coffee shop catching up. Neither man could shake how weird it felt to be engaging like this with a stranger, especially considering what was happening to the rest of the world. But it became apparent very quickly that this was what Agnes Porter needed to do to keep herself sane and her mind off of the chaos, to save herself from falling into a deep pit of depression.
As the three of them talked, Samuel and Austin came to learn that she had lost her husband only a few days earlier. He – Fred – had left the apartment to go and buy groceries and had never returned. They were both surprised to learn that Agnes herself had gone out the very next day to look for him and found her husband’s body outside their grocery store, a knife wound in his chest.
She assumed that he had been held up when leaving the store. Agnes spoke proudly of her husband as she retold this tale, explaining that he would’ve never handed over what he had, always putting her needs above everything else. It was sad to see how lonely she now was.
It was incredibly difficult for Austin to hear Agnes telling her story, thinking of his own family as she spoke and wondering what would happen if he or Dante were in a similar positi
on. He found his eyes welling up as she spoke of her husband, the tone of love in her voice revealing just how important the man had been to her. To both Austin and Samuel, it was remarkable how well she was coping so soon after her loss. Agnes admitted that she would mourn once it was safe to do so. She remained resilient in the knowledge that her Fred would’ve wanted her to keep fighting.
“Is there anything you need while we’re here?” Samuel offered during a pause in the conversation. “We have plenty to share.”
“I have the basics to keep me going,” Agnes replied stoically. “There’s one less mouth to feed now.”
It struck Samuel on another level how humble the woman was. He couldn’t help but think of his own parents and wondered how they would cope. Could his mother possibly carry on with the same calm demeanor and level of control that Agnes had if something happened to his father? It had been some time since he had tried to get in touch with them.
“I wonder,” Samuel asked cautiously, having noticed the landline phone in Agnes’ hallway earlier on. “Do you think I could use your phone? I want to try and reach my parents; see if they’re okay.”
“Of course!” Agnes beamed in response, more than happy for Samuel to try. “I haven’t even thought of using that. Don’t know who I’d call.”
“Do you think it will work? Cell signal has been down for days now.”
“I know,” Samuel replied, turning to Austin to explain his rationale. “But don’t the old landline phones still connect to the wires? My parents have one in their house which is similar, I think that I might be able to place a call that way.”
Wipeout | Book 2 | Foul Play Page 8