Darkside 2

by Aaron K Carter

  Darkside

  Vol 2

  based on the characters created by

  Aaron K. Carter

  Darkside Vol 2

  Copyright © 2019 by Aaron K. Carter. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  “T

  hey’re going to catch us you know,” I say, walking slowly around the table in our commons room of the barracks. Tyrell is at the water fountain, innocently refilling his hydration system. I take off my oxygen mask and tank, won’t need that for a while. I have no intention of spending the night outside. I was made for finer things. I may not have experienced them yet, but I know I was.

  “What?” he asks, backing away.

  “Tsegi, Tim, Peter, all of them,” I say, leaning against a sofa. He’s going nowhere.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with Peter,” he says, defensively.

  “You were there,” I say, “You saw him with the body, next day he’s setting himself on fire. Wonder why that was? Couldn’t have had anything to do with anything you did?”

  “No, I didn’t say two words to him. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

  “What’re you doing in here?” I ask.

  “I have late duties,” he says bluffs. Baldy.

  “You don’t. who was next, Leavitt? A tempting choice I must admit, in fact, the only likely one, considering he’s got to come back here for his kit,” I say, nodding at the barracks, “He’d be a trick to garret, wouldn’t he?”

  “You’re mental.”

  “So’re you. I would have thought we established that when we skinned Tim.”

  “Yes,” he says, leaning against a sofa.

  “Why Tsegi?” I ask.

  “No reason, just wanted to get away with it,” he says.

  “You fancied her and she kissed that leviathan Leavitt,” I say since he’s apparently not going to.

  “How did you know?” he asks.

  “I saw you in the woods, I see everything,” I guessed really well, I guess well all the time.

  “So I just did it. they don’t know it was me,” he says.

  “They found DNA on her—”

  “That’s impossible---”

  “I was up there with Kip, it’s what they were saying. They were going to get you from late duties,” I explain. I was supposed to be up there with Kip. I’ve no idea if he left DNA he probably did the stupid bugger.

  “I can’t have---I used gloves she never----no, I can’t have,” he says, shaking his head, “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not but, you don’t have to believe me,” I say, “Because, they do.”

  “What?” he asks, his voice shaking, “What do you mean they do? You told them---you can’t have. they’d get you for Tim.”

  “They won’t ever catch me,” that’s true.

  “Did you tell them?” he asks.

  “I told them everything, I told them about Tim, I told them about what we did to Peter, I told them about Tsegi, hell,I told them I was involved, might as well, they’ll never get me,” I say.

  “No---we didn’t do anything to Peter you did-----I didn’t I swear I didn’t---”

  “Yes since that redeems you so much considering you already chopped somebody up---”

  “It still---it’s different it’s different it’s---oh god---wait, you’re lying, if you’d told them, then you wouldn’t be here they’d’ve locked you up by now, and they’d be coming to get me,” he blusters, finally dropping his hydration system and coming to circle me, “You’re lying. You never told them.”

  “In a note, man, in a note, I sent a message to all of them, Wilde, Thorne, Ebbel, Kip, for grins Dr. Truth Juice, they all know now,” I say, taking a step back innocently, “As soon as they check their messages, which they will soon. I wouldn’t tell them in person, I told you. I’ll never be caught.”

  “How? Then? What’s your escape plan considering we’ve had it---considering you decided we’d had it,” he growls, running a hand over his short hair.

  “The undiscovered country,” I say.

  “What?” somebody who probably can’t read asks, frowning.

  “We journey on, our time in this world is done, we burned too hot, too bright, too impossibly clear for it, it’s over, truth justice morality were all concepts to us, we saw past them, we never had them, we were above everything, above the law. So we lived, so must we die, beyond it all, journey on and see if the next world is fit for the likes of us,” I say, eagerly. God I’m good.

  “No, I don’t want to die---”

  “Then why did you enter the game of death?” I ask, frowning, “If you didn’t want to die, why kill? It’s the rules of the game, the rules we must abide by. You send somebody over you must be willing to cross yourself someday. Why not cross like this, two immortal souls forever joined?”

  “No---no, not now---I’ll run, I’ve got a head start, I can go to the mountains—”

  “We are in a facility, surrounded by barb-wire, electric fencing, the lot, even if you could get out, if they caught you---when they caught you, you do understand that that fate would be worse?” I ask.

  “How so? I mean, I’d just die---”

  “Oh, no, not the likes of us, they keep us alive, to study, because we’re ill. Murderers so young? The great and powerful have determined that is psychosis, so they keep you alive like a lab rat, they study you, feed you twice a day, doomed to sit in a windowless room, padded of course, your arms strapped behind your back, they inject food into your stomach through a tube---”

  “What how do you know all this?”

  “It’s what they did to my father, when he killed my mother,” I say. I’ve no idea if it’s at all true, but it sounds plausible. It’s what I’d do to torture somebody. And the point is that he believes it.

  “Really?” he asks, he’s weakening. Good.

  “Yes,” I say, nodding.

  “No, I’d rather run, have my chance---”

  “Why die running? A coward? Join Tsegi,” I say, “Come with me, journey on, try our luck in the next world. We’ve had our fill of this one.”

  “How? How would we even do it?” he asks, sitting down on the edge of a sofa.

  “Bleach,” I say, taking a packet of the stuff out of my pocket. I have two, one each. “I took them from the cleaning supplies when we were doing dorm maintenance this morning.” They packaged the stuff in little packets, so that this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. They hadn’t thought of us just smuggling away the packets.

  “Does it hurt?” he asks, “Do you think?”

  “No, not for long.”

  It burned with unceasing rage for the better part of an hour.

  After I got him to drink it, with plenty of very haunting “Join me” s and all that, I instantly regretted not cutting my own dose. I was confident it wouldn’t kill either of us, but I had thought I would be able to make to the door before he was able to stop me. I had swallowed slightly less, and had been prepared to bolt, but I didn’t think he would follow quite that quickly. As it was, he got a hold of my leg just as I got to the door, flinging it open and calling something to the effect of ‘help murderer’, with him clinging to my leg and trying to bite me through my SBUs, which are bite proof, in case you were wondering.

  I did send letters by the
way, they just incriminated Tyrell and not me, instead stating his intent to murder me and himself with bleach. And they were from him, his tablet that is, not mine.

  And the only reason it burned for the better part of an hour, and I do not have exact times, is because I passed out after 43 minutes of the searing pain, at which point I was in IDMT getting sedated.

  Mission accomplished.

  “There are a lot of cops,” Logan observed, craning his neck to see the emergency personnel rushing into our barracks. All the MTIs but Harris had abandoned us to go and handle the commotion, we had lined up and received our tents, and were supposed to be setting them up. We are not. “What do you think happened?”

  “Titus,” I say, wondering if he actually got himself hurt again. Probably. I wondered if Tyrell had survived. I knew it was Tyrell now, he had late duties tonight cleaning the barracks. And that was where Titus had gone, and that is where all hell is breaking loose. I almost smile. At least he had done it for Tsegi. That makes me happy. Somebody had done something for her in a world where we are Forgotten.

  “Do you guys know what’s going on?” Liesel asks, coming over to us.

  “No,” Logan and I say.

  “Is Titus missing?” she asks.

  Logan and I nod.

  “What do you think he’s done?” she asks, “It’s over Tsegi, isn’t it?”

  “And Peter as well, I think, yes,” I say, nodding, “I don’t know what though he wouldn’t tell me.”

  “Is there any chance Card isn’t involved?” Leavitt asks, walking up to join us.

  “No,” all three of us say.

  “Damn, just when I wanted to talk to him,” he says, craning his neck to see, which works better for him than the rest of us.

  “Why would you want to do a thing like that?” Liesel asks.

  “He’s something of a human internet search,” Leavitt shrugs.

  “So to be clear, do all of us really actually hate Titus, but can’t bring ourselves not to like him he’s so pathetic because he has no clue he’s actually an alien?” I ask.

  “Yes,” all three of them say, nodding.

  “Okay, just wanted to check,” I say, with a sigh.

  “How many this time?” Thorn asks, lightly.

  “Don’t answer him,” Ebbel says, walking past him.

  “Card and another one, the Corescant flight leader, Tyrell Nolan, they’re alive though,” I answer, because for some reason I’m still nice. “They were the only ones.”

  “I’m glad Leavitt’s all right, I’m beginning to get attached to him,” Harris says. He and I were locking down the barracks for when IA would descend.

  “Oh I was as well, he’s a nice non-demonic sort of cadet,” Thorn says, “Ebbel can we keep Leavitt?”

  “What are you even talking about?” Ebbel asks.

  “Why do you still ask that question?” I ask as Thorn says:

  “When the purge finally happens I’d rather he stay with us, we can feed the others to the black pit of demons that dissolve from the sea.”

  “Oh my God,” Ebbel says, rolling his eyes and walking away.

  “Don’t look at me like that, I do make some of it up for his benefit,” Thorn says, taking a drink from his hip flask and turning to Harris and me, “What happened this time?”

  “Notice he only said some,” Ebbel calls over his shoulder.

  “They both drank bleach,” I say, “From the packets we used to let them clean with.”

  “Used to?” Harris asks. He’s not all that bright.

  “Well, after this they certainly aren’t going to ever let Cadets have access to those again,” I say.

  “No, I suppose not, any idea what happened or is it a random mystery like the others?” Thorn asks.

  “No, this time we do have an explanation, apparently Nolan messaged all of us as well as half the top brass that he was responsible for the last two murders,” I say, “Card somehow found out and was trying stop him from drinking the bleach, so he pinned Card down, poured some down his throat, then Nolan drank the rest himself. Card was just able to get help.”

  “That’s almost plausible, Card’s so very little,” Thorn says.

  “He’s tiny, and Nolan is at the top end of his weight range,” I say.

  “Card told them all this?” Harris asks, still confused.

  “The last bit, yeah, he managed to get that out even as his throat was burning, not hard to tell, we have Nolan’s confession, so does everyone,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Well, that’s good I guess,” Harris says.

  “Yes, mystery solved, it seems we can rest easy again,” I say.

  Thorn starts laughing hysterically.

  “What do you think happened?” Liesel asks, “Do you think that Tyrell was involved?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head, “But I don’t think Titus would be wrong. I think he’s crazy, but I don’t think he’s wrong.”

  “You’re right,” she says, nodding, “I don’t know. it’s all just so weird. It’s like we’re not even living anymore, like this isn’t what life is like.”

  “I don’t think we know what life is like,” I say.

  “So, you guys feel like that too?” Leavitt asks, speaking up, “I thought it was just me, not used to the military. Or real life, really. My mum---I just live with her and my sister and we’ve not got a lot money or family or anything like most people have.”

  “No, this isn’t life,” Logan says, “I’ve had life. This is weird.”

  “What’s it like?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “Life,” Liesel says.

  “It’s lying in bed late on Sunday mornings and chocolates after your tea, and going for long walks in the park with no real place to go, and watching the sun set over the misty hills as children play chase in the wet grass, it’s the sun on your skin the early morning as you wake to a fresh new day without any dread or terror or loneliness, knowing before you even wake up that something good is going to happen each and every day,” Logan says, quietly.

  “I’d like that,” I say.

  “Me too,” Leavitt says. I wonder what his secrets are, why he’s so distant quiet and most of all why he’s here. what brought somebody strong and innocent and steady like him here. Logan I know it’s ‘cause he’s clever. Leavitt is just honesty. I don’t see why they wanted him.

  The moment I saw the man with no lips I knew that I had a long night ahead of me.

  Now, when I planned to drink bleach and spend a very unpleasant night in the IDMT, I did not plan on being given barbiturates. In theory, all they should’ve done was give me some water or milk to drink (I requested milk. I was given water), pump my stomach if I was still unwell (I was), and then watch me all night, give me fluids maybe ----here’s a wild idea---a good meal and let me have a tablet to read so I can rest and rebuild my tissue and not go into shock after the ostensibly traumatic night I’ve had.

  But after they pump my stomach and leave me in the room with an IV bag, they tie me to the bed.

  Now that’s pretty unnecessary since they have no way of knowing I drank the stuff of my own accord and was well aware it wasn’t enough to kill me, so I don’t understand what the orderlies reasoning is until I see the lipless man. He’s nippleless as well but I can’t see that. Obviously. The fact that he doesn’t have the tips of his finger is hidden by a pair of hospital gloves.

  My throat is burning still or I would have sworn in anger. I do not, not need to be drugged. What if the psychopath starts questioning me and he finds out the truth? No, no, no this cannot be happening I thought he was out of the way why are they still letting this man practice medicine?

  “Just the juice, m’boy,” he mumbles, he can’t speak as clearly now. I struggle as he replaces my IV bag with a new one. The liquid in it is foggy. “Relax, just a little juice for you. get you well on your way.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” I say, as I feel the cold bubble under my skin. t
here’s enough in that bag to kill a man twice my size, if my memory of basic medicine and dosages serves me which it ought to the drug hasn’t hit me quite yet.

  “Just relax, enjoy the juice now---and tell us everything,” he says, sitting down on the bed and staring at me intently. “How’d you get here, m’boy?”

  “NO----” I close my eyes and when I open them back up I’m not lying here. I’m not I this bed, I’m not in this room. I’m not in my body. I’m floating through my mind. this is better than sleep, except nothing is hidden, whatever I see or feel might say. I might be saying this I don’t know. it’s very cold.

  “Stop it, I don’t want to go back here,” I say, I’m standing in a hospital waiting room. my mum is in the office with one of my brothers, getting his arm sewed up. He was stupid enough to go and get drunk and pass out on the floor of our room. so I gnawed on his arm while he slept and now they had no way of proving I’d done it. I’d managed to work a lot of skin off before he woke up screaming and I’d had to retreat to my bed, innocently spitting out blood into my hand. The beauty of it was that they couldn’t figure out what had happened Titus couldn’t have done it oh not not little sweet Titus who got woken up by his horrible big brother.

  “What is with him?” my other brother, whose name I deleted from my memory because it is irrelevant to my life, said, watching as I sat in my sister’s lap, reading the tablet that they had in the waiting room for kids to play with. I’d gotten out of the program and found a book on the internet and was happily reading.

  “He’s tired,” my sister said, stroking my hair, “He’s only little, and you woke up him up coming in like that.”

  “Trevor’s arm wasn’t like that when we got in, I swear, I know mum doesn’t believe me. I’ll bet he was chewing on it, he’s not right,” my brother who wasn’t Trevor said, pointing at me.

  “Don’t be stupid, he was asleep,” she said.

  “He wasn’t I’ll warrant you, I’ll bet he crawled out of bed and chewed on him, he’s like some sort of wild animal, you know he is. He always has been. I’ve looked it up, he’s got all the traits of sociopathic disorder,” he said. I didn’t glare at him, he wasn’t worth it and I wanted them to think I wasn’t paying attention.