Prosper Snow Series

by Shaun Jeffrey

  Prosper rolled his eyes. “Just slow down, but not enough that we lose sight of him.”

  They followed Klement along the road and out into the country. When they reached a long stretch of straight road lined by hedgerows, Prosper said, “Okay, let’s head him off.”

  Wolfe pressed down on the accelerator and closed the gap until he was almost on Klement’s bumper, then he pulled out and edged alongside. Prosper looked across and saw Klement staring at him, a grin plastered across his face as he turned the steering wheel, slamming his vehicle into theirs, jolting Prosper.

  “Bastard.” Wolfe fought to keep control as the vehicle slewed across the wet road.

  Prosper gripped the edge of his seat. Once Wolfe regained control, he accelerated again and tried to edge ahead. Prosper felt his heart pounding as they nosed in front, the straight road coming to an end a couple of hundred feet ahead.

  Without warning, Wolfe yanked the steering wheel to the left, ramming into Klement’s BMW. Metal screeched and Klement veered off to the left, disappearing along a narrow lane in the hedge.

  Going too fast, Wolfe drove past and slammed the brakes on, the car skidding across the road. When it came to a stop, he rammed it into reverse and headed back until he could follow Klement along the lane.

  As the road opened up, an abandoned, one story structure about fifty feet long with wire mesh over the windows came into view. It stood behind a fence topped with barbed wire, the gate to which was open. Behind the building, trees and bushes were visible. Situated on the outskirts of the city, there were no other buildings in the vicinity.

  Klement’s car was parked out front but there was no sign of Klement. Wolfe drove into the compound and parked behind him.

  “Come on, let’s find the son of a bitch,” Prosper said. Knife in hand, he exited the vehicle and headed towards the building with Wolfe on his heels. At the door, Prosper listened for any sounds inside, and then eased it open.

  The door opened into a small reception area. Prosper and Wolfe scurried inside. A desk occupied the back wall and there was a door either side. The one on the left was open. Prosper headed towards that one and stared down the short corridor beyond. Unsure whether to proceed, he turned to say something to Wolfe when he heard a scuffling sound from up ahead.

  Motioning to Wolfe, Prosper started tiptoeing along the corridor. When he reached the room the noise originated from, he kicked the door open and saw Klement standing towards the back of a room lined with filing cabinets.

  “This is everything on the project,” Klement said, holding aloft a memory stick. He dropped it and then ground his heel into it, smashing the device. “Now everything is stored up here.” He tapped his head. “I am the font of all knowledge.”

  Prosper pursed his lips, his eyes narrowed into cold, hard slits. He tightened his grip on the knife and then leapt forwards, driving the knife into Klement’s shoulder.

  Klement fell backwards, hands scrambling to push Prosper off.

  “Drop the knife and back away.”

  Prosper spun around at the sound of the voice, confused when he saw Williams standing in the doorway, gun drawn. Wolfe dropped his knife.

  “Now you,” Williams said, targeting Prosper.

  Prosper increased his pressure on the knife, driving the point deeper.

  “Last chance, Prosper. Drop the knife and let Klement go.”

  “He’s a killer. What does it matter?”

  “I have my orders. Now let him go or I will shoot you.”

  “In the circumstances, I’d do what he says,” Wolfe said from the corner where he leaned against the wall, arms folded.

  Prosper gritted his teeth, let go of the knife and stepped away.

  Klement put his fingers around the blade, applying pressure. Blood seeped through his fingers. He coughed and stood up straight, wincing. “You would have made an ideal subject for my experiment, Mr. Snow.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “You were lost, but now you’re found. You were that tabula rasa – that blank slate. But now that emptiness has been filled. You’ve been taught. You’ve evolved. Devolved. Violence. Madness. Bloodshed.” Klement chuckled. “You, Prosper Snow are all that I envisaged.”

  Prosper swallowed. “You’re sick.” He turned to Williams. “How did you find me?”

  “Your request for a search of all supermarket deliveries of baby food was flagged and we then tracked you through your phone, triangulating the signal.”

  Even though he had backed away, he noticed Williams was still pointing his gun at him. Gears rotated in Prosper’s mind. “I’ve been set up from the beginning, haven’t I? Stop me if I’m wrong, but Lester hired me because of my suspect history. I should have seen it.” He shook his head. “This experiment, its government funded isn’t it? That’s why none of this will ever be made public. That brings us to the murders. For those, you need a scapegoat, someone that can take the fall to cover up your mistakes, someone that’s not whiter than white. Someone who got his hands dirty and who you can now hang out to dry.”

  Williams stepped forwards.

  “Bravo, Prosper,” Lester said as he walked into the room.

  Prosper clenched his fists. “What I don’t understand is why the government is so interested in whether we are a product of our genes or our environment.”

  “I would have thought that was obvious.”

  Prosper mulled over it for a moment. Why would the government be so interested in Klement’s work? Then it hit him. “You don’t want to know what makes people what they are, but how to make people what they are. Killers. You want to create killers for something.”

  “You’re good,” Lester said, nodding his head. “Just think about the practical military implications of someone who kills without compunction, the perfect soldier.”

  “Jesus.”

  Prosper looked at Williams. “And you’re happy with this?”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  Prosper snorted loudly. “And is it your job to stitch up innocent men?”

  Lester interrupted. “You’re hardly innocent.”

  “We all have skeletons.”

  “And for that, we’re forever grateful. Now if you don’t mind, I need a doctor to look at Mr. Klement’s shoulder.”

  Prosper gritted his teeth. He thought about his unborn child and a cold shiver infused his body when he imagined he might not get to see the baby born. But he couldn’t let this continue. It was just wrong. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but this … this went beyond anything he had ever been a party to.

  “I think it’s time to go,” Wolfe said. Without hesitating, he launched himself off the wall and slammed into Williams, sending him flying before he headed for the door.

  Prosper glanced at Klement. The grin on his face made his blood boil, but he couldn’t do anything about it, so he ran, barging past Lester as he followed Wolfe out the door.

  His footfalls echoed like a ghostly drumbeat as he fled along the corridor. Movement caught his eye up ahead and Brundle stepped out in front of them, her gun raised.

  CHAPTER 56

  “This way,” Wolfe shouted as he veered right along the side corridor.

  Prosper dived after his friend, clipping the wall and jarring his shoulder. He winced. Heard a shot, the bullet slamming into the wall behind him.

  A door stood at the end, about thirty feet away. The word, ‘Exit’ was stencilled in white across the red paintwork. A push bar lay horizontally across the centre of the door.

  Wolfe reached it first and slammed into it, pushing the bar with his hips and falling through. Prosper followed him out into the rain, the big, fat drops stinging his face.

  The car park was surrounded by a chain link fence topped with barbed wire.

  “Now what?” Wolfe asked as he skidded to a halt.

  Prosper looked around. They couldn’t bar the door, couldn’t climb the fence.

  He glanced back at the building. Rain dribbled into his eyes, mixed with the
sweat that oozed from his pores, blurring his vision. Any minute one of their pursuers was going to burst through the door.

  His pulse pounded, lungs like bellows on a furnace.

  He remembered seeing Sam Rivers enter the prison facility and he stared around the car park; saw a pile of bricks about five feet from the fence. “We’re going to have to fly,” Prosper said before he started running. When he reached the bricks, he ran up them without breaking stride, felt them shift precariously beneath his feet. At the highest point he jumped as high and far as he could and sailed over the fence, braced himself for the landing; knew it was going to hurt.

  He hit the gently sloping grass bank, lost his footing and somersaulted, bouncing from foot to elbow, foot to head, his eyes full of stars as he skidded on his back, trying to use his feet as brakes. Something crashed into his back. Prosper looked around, saw Wolfe. He looked further back, saw Williams run outside, level his gun and fire off a couple of shots that whistled past Prosper’s ear.

  Prosper got to his feet, wobbled, his head spinning. “Run,” he screamed.

  A scrubland stretched before him, the sparse greenery interspersed with small trees and bushes. Decrepit looking industrial buildings stood far away in the distance, the tiles missing from the roofs leaving them open to the elements. Beyond these, on the horizon, were hills, above which the clouds gathered. Prosper ran towards the buildings, ignoring the whip of the tree branches. He scrambled through a bush, tripped on some long brambles that tried to ensnare his legs.

  The ground ahead opened up in a wide chasm. Prosper just managed to avoid falling over the edge and he skidded to a stop, gasping for breath.

  A disused quarry stretched between Prosper and the buildings. A rusty crane to his left arched over the water. Prosper stood at the edge, looked down at the pool about forty feet below that stretched roughly two hundred feet across. The drop made him feel dizzy.

  The water was a dull green palette reflecting the grey sky above. Plants, bushes and trees sprouted from cracks and crevices in the rock all around the walls. The flora and fauna opposite were much thicker, with trees and dense bushes. Prosper kicked a few small stones over the edge, watched them hit the surface, creating a series of concentric circles.

  Jagged rocks projected from the water directly underneath where Prosper stood, and beyond that a shelf about thirty feet long stood a couple of inches above the water line.

  “Now we’re fucked,” Wolfe said.

  A knot tightened in Prosper’s stomach. He sucked in a breath. Behind him, he heard Williams approaching, crashing through the sparse undergrowth.

  “We’ll have to go around,” Wolfe said.

  Prosper shook his head. “There’s no time. He’ll catch up to us.”

  “Then what would you suggest?”

  “We have to go as the crow flies.” He pointed straight across the quarry.

  “Are you mad? How are we going to get across there?”

  “Swim. Come on.” Prosper ran towards the crane. A jib extended out across the quarry from a dishevelled, square metal operating room that stood on a large concrete base. A large gear mechanism was situated beneath the operating room, which would once allow it to swivel. It was now rusted. A rope hung from the jib, on the end a length of metal rocked slightly in the breeze like a seesaw. A metal framework extended above the cab and also back to a weighted block that hung over the bushes. Metal wires were attached to the end of the jib to provide stability and hold it aloft.

  Prosper scrambled up the side of the cab and clambered on top of the jib and started to crawl along. Unshielded, the breeze whipped his hair and whistled past his ears.

  “This is crazy,” Wolfe shouted after him.

  Prosper ignored him and continued climbing. He gripped the cold metal structure as tightly as he could, his knuckles going as white as his cheeks. As he got higher, the structure started to shake – at least he thought it was the structure until he realised it was him who was shaking.

  He took a couple of breaths, but they failed to calm him. Keeping his gaze focused ahead, he continued climbing, his legs getting weaker the higher he went. Flakes of rust crumbled beneath his hands, his palms stained red like blood. He glanced down between the struts; wished he hadn’t as his head spun, the surface of the water looking impossibly far below. Surely if he jumped from here, he would die on impact!

  Prosper had now cleared the rocks. He steadied himself, and then twisted around and lowered his legs over the side of the jib, keeping both feet on the structure. He closed his eyes. His mouth was dry. He tried swallowing but couldn’t produce any saliva.

  A splash broke the relative silence. Prosper opened his eyes and looked down, saw the water bubbling and frothing before a head broke the surface. Wolfe looked up, waved for Prosper to follow, and then started swimming.

  Prosper lowered one leg, hesitated. The rocks were still very close. Wolfe had been lucky, but what if there were hidden obstacles beneath the water that could spear him if he fell onto them?

  A hand grabbed Prosper’s leg and squeezed. His breath hitched in his throat and he looked back at Williams.

  Unarmed, Prosper kicked with his free leg.

  Williams head snapped back and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He released his grip and reached for the gun in its holster. With no other alternative, Prosper knew he had to drop, so he let go of the jib and pushed himself back. His heart felt as though it rose into his throat, clogging it.

  Prosper hit the water hard. Pain flared up his legs and along his stomach as he did an ungainly belly flop. It felt as though he’d hit concrete. He sank, water bubbling around him and he kicked his legs and dragged his arms through the water, struggling to escape the liquid embrace.

  A second later, he broke the surface and gulped a breath as he trod water.

  Prosper looked up, saw Williams take aim and start firing. Bullets splashed around Prosper, his only saving grace being the distance, which meant Williams wasn’t as accurate as he might otherwise have been. Prosper turned and started swimming towards the far side of the quarry. After the awkward splash down, his stomach felt as though someone had prodded it with red hot pokers, but he tried to ignore the pain, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

  The freezing cold water actually helped quell the pain. Never the best of swimmers, Prosper performed a stroke crossed between doggy paddle and the crawl. An ungainly movement, he didn’t swim very fast and the exertion soon left him panting, his arms and legs aching from the strain. The weight of his clothes dragged him down, his trousers billowing around his legs.

  He imagined sinking beneath the surface, trying desperately to hold his breath, and then eventually opening his mouth and letting all that water invade his throat. The thought made him shiver; made him swim faster. Behind him he heard a splash.

  Up ahead he could see Wolfe clambering out of the water and shaking himself down.

  “Get a move on,” Wolfe shouted. “He’s behind you.”

  Now tell me something I don’t know.

  Prosper’s lungs were on fire. Each stroke only added more fuel to the flames. He grimaced, continued to swim, twisting his head from side to side, mouth open to suck in enough air, sinking lower, his legs hardly moving, arms flopping lazily through the water.

  His hand smacked against something, making him wince. Then his legs dragged against whatever it was, and Prosper realised there was a shelf of rock beneath him. He staggered to his feet, looked up, saw that he was about fifteen feet away from Wolfe.

  With the water up to his knees, Prosper splashed forwards. He didn’t dare stop and look back, too afraid of what he might see.

  When he was close enough, Wolfe reached out, grabbed Prosper’s arm and hoisted him onto the slightly higher platform.

  “We’d better run,” Wolfe said.

  Prosper risked a quick glance over his shoulder, saw Williams less than thirty feet away swimming like a shark that had sensed blood.

  Pu
lse pounding, Prosper followed Wolfe across the rocks, his feet squelching in his shoes. His clothes were lead weights as he scrambled across boulders, slipping on gravel. There was a rough road leading up the wall of the quarry, punctuated by small bushes and trees that sprouted from the rocks. Prosper started up the road, his muscles flaring with each step. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep going. When he reached the top of the track, Prosper saw a road snaked between the buildings, which looked even more decrepit up close.

  Soaking wet, sweaty and tired, he knew he couldn’t run any more. The bushes and small trees behind the buildings wouldn’t provide enough cover for them to escape, so the dilapidated buildings were the only option. There were five of them all together, constructed from large blocks of stone. Four were missing most or all of their roofs. The fifth was more or less intact, although the windows in every building had been smashed. Plant growth sprouted from a couple of the structures, clinging to the crumbling brickwork like green wigs. Some old, rusty machinery was visible lying forlornly scattered about the place, along with a few well worn tyres.

  “This way,” Prosper said, running towards the nearest building which appeared to still have two thirds of its roof intact. There was no door on the property, just a wooden surround that looked badly decayed and rotten.

  The building was about thirty feet long, and inside there was a dividing wall down the middle that had started to crumble.

  Metal barrels had been haphazardly lined up along both sides of the room. Diamond shaped content labels on the containers indicated everything from flammable liquids to corrosive and toxic substances.

  “What’s this?” Wolfe asked.

  “It looks as though it’s being used as a dumping ground by a company that wants to save money on disposal for hazardous substances.” A couple of the barrels were leaking, the contents having left bright yellow stains down the outside of the metal.

  The roof covered the entrance, but further back, there were just crossbeams open to the elements. Windows lined both sides, and where the roof was missing, trees grew out of the concrete floor. The leaves of one tree next to a leaking barrel were brown and withered.