by Paul Teague
Schälen had been running his knife along the wall of the tunnel. He’d seen her before she saw him, and this was a first round of intimidation. However weakened he was, whatever pain he was experiencing – and it must have been a lot – he had only one thing in mind. Lucy was going to pay for what she’d done.
‘Nice to see you again, Lucy,’ he began, in a measured, sinister voice.
‘As you can see, you owe me a hand.’
‘It’s your own fault, Schälen. You could have worked with us, you know. It didn’t have to be this way.’
‘It always had to be this way. It’s who I am. It’s why I’m here.’
Lucy saw the truth in that. It was something in his nature which drove him. The same force was keeping him on his feet, in spite of the massive blood loss, and it would be what compelled him to do what he was going to do next.
Schälen raised the knife to chest level, and Lucy noticed something on his undamaged arm. She moved the torch to get a better look. It was a WristCom. Schälen had a WristCom in the centre of The Grid – how had he managed that?
She barely had time to think. Schälen wasn’t there to chat. He lunged at her with the knife and she dropped the torch onto the stone floor. It continued to burn, casting off a limited light, but it was difficult for her to see where Schälen was.
Lucy heard the sound of exits closing all around her. They were being forced into a fight to the death – this was a spectacle for The Grid.
She backed up slowly – she’d lost track of where Schälen was. Scrutinizing the radius of light further along the tunnel, she watched as a shadow moved along the side of the labyrinth wall. Desperately, she tried to figure out where he’d be in order to cast the dark silhouette, but she was too slow, he was upon her. It was as if he could separate off from his own shadow.
It was Schälen’s right hand that had been crushed, but he seemed to be just as powerful when using his left. He struck at Lucy. The blade slashed the flesh on her shoulder and she lurched back, smashing her back against the wall.
He had her trapped, and she was shaken – both of her arms had been wounded now. One was still congealing and raw from his earlier attack, and now her strongest arm was damaged. She could feel her overalls becoming bloody and wet.
She had nothing with which to fight back. He could thrust the knife at her in the darkness and she wouldn’t even know where it was coming from. He’d disappeared again, and she saw the shadow once more. He was everywhere, a nest of devils trying to torment her.
The blade cut through her thigh and she screamed out in pain and shock. Her leg buckled. She knew she had to fight. If she fell to the ground she would never be able to defend herself. But Lucy couldn’t support her weight, the pain was too much.
As she leaned against the wall, her hand moved to the new wound, hardly daring to feel what damage had been done. She felt a loose flap of skin with the tips of her fingers. It was wet with blood. Her head was spinning.
Then, from the blackness, Schälen appeared again, his booted foot striking the sides of her ankles. Her head thudded against the stone floor as she crashed to the ground, a dead weight. She struggled to steady her thoughts, but she was dazed, in pain and disoriented.
Lucy passed out of consciousness for a few seconds, and when she came round Schälen was kneeling at her side. He was holding up the knife, about to thrust it into her neck. She would have sworn his eyes were red, but she figured she must have been imagining it. Her fight was gone, and there was nothing else she could do. It wouldn’t be so bad – he was angry and would finish her fast.
The last thing she was aware of was the flash of the blade as he thrust it towards her windpipe, intent on stealing her final breath.
Sanctuary
There had been no shots fired down the elevator shaft and no flashlights. Every time Wiz eased himself past another closed doorway, he heard activity and commotion, but the Centuria appeared to have discounted the elevators.
None of them worked anymore. It had been years since the elevators in the tower blocks had seen any activity. Some elevator cars had become small apartments for residents of The Climbs desperate for a home. As far as the Centuria were concerned, they didn’t exist.
Occasionally, the cables would rot through, or some part of the iron framework containing the elevator mechanism would finally break. Wiz had taken a leap of faith when he’d asked Dillon to jump first. He’d said a silent prayer in the hope the cable could still take their weight. It was a fairly safe bet – the elevator itself was still being suspended between floors below them. When the cables went, the inhabitants of the car would crash to the ground. Wiz knew of an entire family that had been wiped out like this.
‘You okay?’ he whispered down the shaft to Dillon, unsure of the distance between them.
‘I think I’m nearly at the bottom, the cable feels firmer now.’
A few moments later, Dillon confirmed he’d reached the roof of the elevator car. He placed his feet carefully on the surface, relieved to be clear of the precariousness of the cables. There was a creak of old metalwork as his weight put it under a strain that had been absent for many years.
The cable shook as Wiz made his way down, and it wasn’t long before he was joined on the car roof. Again, the structure groaned. The car itself moved slightly as it took Wiz’s weight.
‘We’re between floors. They won’t find us here unless they figure out we’re in the shafts,’ said Wiz, catching his breath from the effort of the climb. ‘We need to get out of this tower block. When they don’t find us on any of the levels, they’ll start to ransack the place.’
Dillon looked towards Wiz’s voice in the darkness. He couldn’t see him at all.
‘What do you think happened to Mum?’ he asked, scared to hear the answer.
‘I don’t think they’ll kill her,’ Wiz replied. There was no point trying to fool Dillon. ‘I don’t know what they’ll do with her, but they won’t waste any of us with a quick death, I’m sure.’
Dillon didn’t know whether to be reassured or even more terrified. He’d never seen his mother like that before. He’d been so young when Matt died, he’d never known what she was capable of before she was cowed by Fortrillium.
It had shocked Wiz too. She’d been incredible, holding off the Centuria like that. It had bought them precious seconds in which to make their escape.
‘We need to make our way back to Zach’s apartment. It should be safe there.’
‘You’re kidding, aren’t you?’ said Dillon.
‘Where else can we go? We need to set up what I’ve got left of the tech. They’ll keep a watch on your apartment in case you return there, but with Zach gone now, there’s no reason for them to monitor it.’
Dillon thought about Zach. He’d been a friend to them all. One of Dillon’s earliest memories of The Climbs was how Zach had helped them, before he lost his leg. He’d been like a father to Dillon and Joe.
‘How will we get up there without being spotted?’
‘Don’t know yet,’ replied Wiz, ‘but I’m sure we’ll work it out. We need to get out of here first, though.’
There was a sudden light in the darkness. Wiz’s hand had moved to his WristCom. He swung the device methodically from left to right, using the meagre light supply to get a feel for where they were standing. The cables creaked, and a sharp movement caught Wiz off-guard. He hoped it was just the car adjusting to their weight, but he kept his concerns to himself, not wanting to worry Dillon.
‘We need to get out of here now. We can’t go any lower using the cables.’
Wiz located the emergency trapdoor and gave it a sharp pull.
‘Dillon, help me with this!’
They both grabbed the door’s handle, tugging and twisting to get it loose. It began to move.
‘I’ll take it from here,’ said Wiz, pushing with every bit of strength he could muster.
It suddenly opened and Wiz was able to lift the hatch. A terrible smell wafted out
of the car, making them both recoil. Wiz positioned his WristCom so he could detect the source of the odour. There was a dead body down there, new enough to stink but old enough to have been there for some time. Some other wretched soul had taken refuge there and hadn’t lived to tell the tale.
‘We’ll have to deal with it,’ said Wiz. ‘We don’t have a choice. Breathe through your mouth, we have to go out this way.’
Wiz went first, helping Dillon down from the hatch. With Wiz’s height, it was an easy feat, but for Dillon the drop was a lot higher. As his feet struck the ground, Wiz felt the car sink a little lower. Surely it was just the car taking the cable tension from their added weight? A deep groan from the cable echoed up the elevator shaft. They’d have to move fast – he was not at all sure about the stability of the elevator.
The car had become stuck between levels. Wiz was able to see the exit to whatever level they were on because the inner doors had been prised open by the former occupant. He reached up to try to force open the outer doors, but it was too high even for him to get leverage.
‘I’ll need to lift you on my shoulders, Dillon. See if you can get your fingers in the gaps and force them open.’
As Wiz took the strain of lifting Dillon, the car sank again. The sound of a reluctant and ageing steel cable sounded up and down the shaft. Gently, Wiz lifted Dillon upwards so he could access what was exposed of the outer elevator doors. Dillon was some time, trying to find an angle where he could gain sufficient traction. After a few minutes, Wiz heard movement.
‘I can’t get them any wider, but I’ve managed to make a gap.’
Wiz placed Dillon back on the floor and reached up. Dillon had done well. It was enough of a gap for Wiz to part the doors with his greater strength. He pushed them gently at first – he’d need to check if there were Centuria at that level. All was quiet on the landing. He peered out and could see from the faded paintwork that they were stuck between Levels 18 and 19.
‘We’re going to have to crawl through that gap. I’ll lift you first, then you take my bags and help me up afterwards. If you hear anything, come straight back down and keep quiet. Okay?’
Wiz let Dillon climb back onto his shoulders, and more gingerly this time he took the strain of his weight. There was a slight movement in the elevator, but the cables seemed fine. Wiz stretched up as high as he could to make it easier for Dillon to scramble through the gap in the doors. It was tight. Wiz figured their dead companion must have got trapped that way. Had Wiz attempted to do this alone, he wouldn’t have made it. Exiting from the elevator car was a two-person job.
‘It’s really tight, Wiz, you should have opened it more!’ Dillon had managed to place his arms and head between the doors, still precariously balanced on Wiz’s shoulders. His weight was supported by the concrete floor of Level 19, but he was struggling to wriggle his shoulders through the narrow gap between the outer doors.
‘Lift me a bit more will you?’
Wiz dipped his knees slightly, then thrust upwards to give Dillon the momentum he needed to pull himself out of the car. Wiz knew he’d made a mistake as soon as he’d done it. The elevator sank slightly, there was a creak from the cable above them, then the sound of steel cracking high above.
Dillon cried out – the movement had taken him by surprise, but it was the sound above them that made Wiz’s heart leap with fear. From the small gap left by the emergency trap door, Wiz could hear the swishing sound of the heavy elevator cable plunging towards them.
When it struck the roof of the elevator, they would be sent crashing to the ground, eighteen levels below. It would be a few minutes before Wiz died, but in a matter of seconds Dillon was going to be ripped in two, his body severed at the waist by the sudden drop of the falling car.
Chapter Twelve
Endgame
Hannah pounded her fist on the desk in frustration. The other Gridders looked up, and Linwood frowned at her. She was drawing attention to herself, he was warning her not to do that.
She gave a gentle nod in acknowledgment. She felt so helpless – the action was playing out on her console and the big screen in the office, but she had no control over it.
She’d figured out by now where Joe and Lucy were in the scenario. Even though they were represented to her by pixelated characters, their green overalls made identification easy.
Joe was trapped in a corner with one of the creatures. The health indicators of his male companion were poor, and there was no nearby help.
Lucy was in a similar predicament, caught at the end of a tunnel by the serial killer, the other group too far away to help. If only Joe and Lucy had realized how close to each other they were: right at the centre of The Grid, separated by labyrinth walls.
All she could do was to watch the walls come crashing down as her two friends were thwarted at every turn, their chances for escape terminated by some person or player unknown. She’d lost control of the gameplay, she didn’t know what to do.
Linwood approached her. There was a high state of excitement among the other Gridders in the room, the action on their screens was exhilarating.
‘You’re doing it wrong – you’re fighting it,’ Linwood whispered. ‘Every move you make is a counteraction, and whoever is controlling the gameplay is expecting it. Make your move away from the main action. You need to send them on the run.’
Hannah opened a passageway in an area of The Grid which was completely clear of Justice Seekers. Linwood was right, if she went near Joe and Lucy or any of the other players, her mystery opponent blocked her. If she moved away from them, she could create openings in the labyrinth without being blocked. It was counter-intuitive, but it worked.
She became aware of movement at the office door but didn’t stop to investigate. It was Centuria, embroiled in a hushed conversation with the Head Gridder. Hannah ignored it.
‘We need to open two paths, start wide at the edges of The Grid and map towards the centre. When I say go, open up a route to Joe and Lucy. Keep away from the Justice Seekers, you’ll get closed down every time. Make it look as if we’re testing new environments in the quiet zones.’
Linwood saw what she was doing and agreed, rushing back to his console. There were large sections of the labyrinth clear, and Hannah began to map an erratic route well away from the main action. They’d both aim for the centre. That way, when she gave the word, they would be able to send Joe and Lucy to the same spot. Not until they’d thrown their hidden opponent off the scent, though.
Hannah sent Linwood the new rendering codes. She was creating a cityscape now, and if she was going to create safe passage out for Lucy and Joe it would need to look as if they were just testing out new environments prior to the final Mode.
Hannah watched as Linwood matched her route, starting out at another clear area of The Grid, mapping out a cityscape pathway which would get Joe and Lucy away from their current peril. Her eyes flickered to the action on the pixelated feed, checking her friends were still alive. She was aware of something going on behind her, more activity from the Centuria who were making their way down to her desk. They were on to her. Her time was nearly up. She typed frantically at her console, watching on her screen as her friends fought bravely to fight off their assailants.
She was going to be too late. She was not going to be able to save Joe and Lucy.
Late Shift
After the drama of the faulty camera, Max had been instructed to work a late shift to make sure there were no more hitches. To lose a crucial camera shot at such an important point of the trial was unacceptable, so for Max that meant a double shift.
He’d opened up a feed of the trial on his console and he busied himself running some routine maintenance checks on the bots. Unusually, there was still one bot left in the centre of The Grid. Due to the rapidly changing nature of the trial, it had been impossible to guide it out safely, so the Gridders had just boxed it in, keeping it out of sight of the main gameplay in a self-contained area away from the Justice Seekers.
It had been a close call when Max sent the commands for the bots to return along the maintenance tunnel and back to his work area. The Gridders had rapidly been opening and closing passageways in the labyrinth and at one stage the Justice Seekers had almost walked straight into them.
A stern memo was issued, and Max found himself on the defensive. He’d negotiated to have the bot contained and the Gridders had obliged, creating a completely enclosed area at the centre. It could wait there until the action died down a bit.
There were more Centuria around than usual. Max was usually left to his own devices; he assumed nerves were frayed by the day’s earlier technical difficulties. Still, it was unusual. There was not much about Max’s section that was of interest. It was impossible to enter or monitor The Grid – only the bots could go in or out, and all of their operations were remotely controlled.
He rubbed his bandaged hand. It had become a nagging and persistent ache, and he had almost become accustomed to the discomfort. He wondered what Talya Slater was doing. She’d left him well alone after he assisted with the camera operation, even though it had been a mess-up. He hoped she was done with him and his part in the drama would be over.
With all routine jobs completed, Max returned to his console and watched the live stream of The Justice Trial. He was shocked to see the state of Talya’s daughter – he’d watched as the serial killer had taunted and beaten her.
The cameras in The Grid didn’t seem to know which action to focus on. The other Justice Seeker in the green overalls was also fighting for his life, hunted by some terrible creature in the tunnels.