by Nick Thacker
At the mention of Priseman’s name, Adam felt his muscles tighten. This was the man who had cost him everything—including his wife and children. This was the man who murdered them.
“So what do we do?” Carl asked. “Sounds like he’s trying to rebuild society. So, what, we should stop that?”
“Rebuild it with his own agenda in place,” Jocelyn said. She seemed flustered by all of this. Adam could see she was upset, but he wasn’t sure about her reasons. Was she simply reacting to the fact that Priseman was involved?
From the table, the woman began to stir. They watched her closely, backing away.
“Shouldn’t we tie her down or something?” Carl asked.
“I stopped the sedatives earlier,” Jocelyn said. “We wanted to have one of them awake, so we could do another MRI, and see how the signal interacts with their own brain activity. We thought having her restrained my encumber her. Better to observe how she acts out.”
The woman sat up, and slid from the table. She stood there, swaying slightly, for several seconds. And then, suddenly, her eyes brightened and focused. The swaging stopped, and she looked around at each of them.
When she came to Adam, she stared hard into his eyes.
“Adam Bolland,” she said.
Adam felt his blood chill. Hearing this woman say his name—a complete stranger, but until a few moments ago not much more than a vegetable—was completely unexpected.
“Yes,” Adam said.
Taylor was the guard on duty in the room, and he rushed forward with his rifle raised. Carlo waved to him, and the younger man stopped where he was, keeping his weapon trained on the woman.
Or, from Adam’s angle, trained on the woman and Adam.
“You have caused me such a headache,” the woman said, shaking her head.
And Adam knew instantly who they were dealing with.
“Priseman?” he asked.
The woman smiled. “Do you like my new trick? It’s an odd feeling, having arms and legs that work and feel again. It’s true, there’s a slight disconnect. It’s not entirely like having my own body back. But it will do just fine. I can feel, and I thought I’d never have that again.”
“What are you doing, Priseman?” Adam asked. “What have you done?”
“I’m rebuilding the world, Adam,” the woman said, smiling. “Ironic, isn’t it? Your name is Adam. I only just put it together. And … well, I suppose that makes me God! Now that I like.”
“You’re nobody’s God, Priseman,” Adam said.
“True. I didn’t make any of this. Ok, savior then. I can live with that.”
“And how are you a savior?” Jocelyn said, stepping forward. Her voice was hard, angry but scared. She stood in front of the Suppressed woman with her fists clenched. Professor Milton stepped in beside her, putting an arm on her shoulder.
“Right this instant I have several thousand Suppressed rebuilding and repairing everything they need in downtown Denver. This is the first. When Denver rises, I’ll know that my plan works. I’ll adjust for any errors. And I’ll update the program so that it goes global.”
“And what’s the point?” Adam asked.
“Oh come on, Bolland. The point? Civilization! The Suppressed are out there dying for God’s sake! I’m creating a world where they can have their needs met. Food. Shelter. Hygiene. Procreation.”
“Procreation?” Jocelyn said. “You’re … you’re breeding them?”
“Well, the human race does have to continue, doesn’t it?” Priseman asked. “And it’s not like the Lucid can reproduce. In fact, the heavy metal has seen to that, pretty much worldwide. It’s been happening for decades now. A rise in sterility. A drop-off in births. Only the Suppressed can procreate now. So … if the human race is to continue, it will have to continue under my control.”
“I’m not going to let that happen,” Adam said.
“You can’t do a thing to stop it,” the woman replied.
Taylor raised his rifle and stepped forward, and Adam was about to yell for him to lower his weapon. But at that moment, the door to the lab burst open and Lisa ran inside, huffing.
“Helicopters,” she managed. “Two of them, coming this way.”
Chapter Sixteen
They all moved into the corridor and rushed the front entrance, where Tony stood, rifle to his shoulder, sweeping the parking lot for signs of approaching intruders.
Adam stooped to peer through the glass of the door, looking upward into the sky, beyond the overhang of the building. He just caught a glimpse of one black helicopter as it swung around, centering itself over the building.
“This is your chance to give up peacefully,” said David, in the woman’s voice.
Adam turned to face her. “We’re trying to find a cure for this,” Adam said. “To save everyone.”
The woman laughed. “Look around you, Bolland. It’s too late to save anyone. And, well, I’ve already saved the world, the only way it could be saved. The old world is gone. The Suppressed rule the earth now.”
“Meaning you rule the earth,” Jocelyn said.
The woman looked at her, smiling. “Maybe. It’s a nice change, don’t you think? No petty bureaucracies. No in-fighting, or racial wars. No endless debates about gun control or abortion or marital rights. Just peace. Just every living human working in harmony with every other. I’d say, as world saving goes, I’ve done a better job than most saviors.”
“Can I shoot this woman now?” Taylor asked.
“Take her back into the lab,” Carl growled. Adam admired the decision—it showed restraint, and a bit of forward thinking. Having a means of communicating with David, who was the one issuing orders to the UVFs and any Suppressed they might encounter—that might come in handy.
Adam turned to Tony and Lisa. “We need a way out of here.”
“The Humvees are stashed,” Lisa said. “There’s one in the parking garage, down the block. The other is hidden in the alley next door.”
“Can we get to it?” Adam asked.
Lisa went to the glass, peering left and right, then up. “I’m not sure. It depends on who is in those helicopters.”
As if in answer, a black shape suddenly appeared from the top of the overhang, moving in an arch, straight for the glass of the doors. It was man dressed in SWAT gear, and as he raised a weapon the group inside the hall scattered, taking cover.
Shots fired, and the glass shattered, allowing the SWAT officer to make a solid landing, crouch to a knee, and lob a crowd suppression grenade into the hall.
“Cover!” Tony shouted.
Adam grabbed Jocelyn and Milton, dragging them into a side office just as the flash-bang grenade ignited.
Smoke billowed into the room, and it stung their eyes and lungs. But it was just a whiff. Adam pushed the door closed, and the three of them barricaded it with the desk and a bookcase.
“That might keep them out of the room, but it keeps us in,” Adam said. He looked around, frantic. This was an interior office. No windows. He glanced up, and saw a small, narrow air-conditioning vent in the wall, near the ceiling. It wasn’t big enough to squeeze his head into, much less three grown people.
But the ceiling …
It was a common drop panel ceiling, with panels that were mostly insulated styrofoam. Adam hopped onto the desk, and pushed one of the panels up. He was able to peer into the opening by standing on his toes. It was dark up there, and dusty. But the crawl space could be big enough. And looking around, he saw that though the walls continued upward through the ceiling, there were gaps at their tops, big enough for someone to crawl through, if need be.
He looked back down to Jocelyn and Milton. “We go up,” he said.
Milton shook his head. “I can’t do that,” he said. “I’ll never be able to make that. My knees. My back. I’d get up there and be just as stuck as I am here.”
“We have to try,” Adam said.
As if to punctuate the statement, gunfire erupted just outside the door,
and was returned from further down. Adam flinched, dropped to his knees, and climbed from the desk and onto the floor. Jocelyn and Milton crouched with him there, taking shelter behind the desk.
The gunfire continued, but moved away from them, deeper into the facility.
“We have to try,” Adam repeated.
Milton nodded, swallowing, and the three of them stood again.
There was another bookcase along the wall to the right of the door, and Adam swept this, clearing the shelves with a sweep of his hand. The bookcase became a functional ladder. He climbed to the top, pushed through the panel, and slid into the ceiling above.
He braced himself on the metal struts between ceiling panels, holding himself up by hands and toes. It was painful, and tiring. He could see right away that Milton was right. The older man wouldn’t be able to do this. But it was better to try. They had to do something.
Adam looked down through the opening and gave instructions, then helped each of them to climb and enter the crawlspace. Milton was first, so that Jocelyn could assist from below. It was an awkward maneuver, and Milton’s dignity was compromised on numerous instances, but they did manage to get him up there. It took a bit more coaxing to get him balanced on the supports, away from Adam, so that their weight wasn’t concentrated in one area.
Jocelyn was able to climb up on her own, and Adam took advantage of this time to start moving and exploring their escape route.
He found that there were more solid and stable areas where the walls met the panels. Some of the interior walls rose up nearly to the roof, but others stopped just this side of the drop ceiling. Adam helped Milton get to these areas. And there was enough clearance above them that they could all stand, though they had to crouch somewhat.
The used the metal bands that were holding the drop ceiling in place, gripping them as supports while each of them balanced and moved along the tops of the walls. They came to the taller walls from time to time, and scrambled over those, then kept moving.
Gunfire was still audible from below, but it was slowing. Adam had no idea how the fight was going, and at this point he didn’t care. He concentrated on getting Jocelyn and Milton through the crawlspace toward the one shaft of light that was visible, on the far end of the building.
It took forever. Adam wasn’t sure of the exact time, but during their progress the gunfight stopped, and Adam could occasionally hear muffled talk, mostly shouting. Since the people attacking them were Suppressed, Adam guessed that the shouting was coming from their own people. He couldn’t make out the words, but he thought that someone might be issuing ‘field bravado.’ Trash talk in combat. Usually a sign of desperation.
Adam led them to the shaft of light, and discovered it was coming in through a vented panel on an outside wall. He was able to peer through it and see the courtyard behind the building.
It was clear, from the look of it.
The panel was sure, with metal slats. Adam ran his fingers along its edges, hoping like crazy that it wasn’t welded or bolted in place. He felt a slight gap, wedged his fingers into it, and pulled.
The panel grudgingly pulled free, and Adam grabbed it around the edge, then moved it to the side.
He looked down now, into the courtyard.
Just below them was a rooftop—the overhang above the rear door. It was quite a drop, and even Adam wasn’t sure he could make it without breaking something. Milton wouldn’t stand a chance.
Adam glanced from side to side, then, hoping for a ladder or maybe a ledge.
He saw a thick, black rope bouncing gently agains the side the building, about six feet to his left.
It had been used by the Suppressed SWAT team, to rappel down from the roof. It meant there was a helicopter above them. But it also meant a way down.
“Either of you know how to fly a helicopter?” he asked.
They shook their heads, wide eyed.
“Me neither,” he said. “Dammit.”
Their only choice, then, was to go down.
Lisa had said there was a Humvee parked in the alley next to the building, and another in the parking garage a block down. The one closest by sounded the most appealing.
Adam took a couple of breaths before planting one foot firmly the corner of the opening, and gripping tightly toward the middle. He swung out, facing the wall, and reached for the rope.
It was just out of reach. His fingertips brushed it, moving it slightly.
Adam shifted his grip, trying to get the extra inch or so by holding the edge with his fingertips. He reached again, and this time he was able to roll his fingers just over the top of the rope.
His left hand slipped at that moment, and suddenly Adam was in freewill.
On instinct he gripped the black rope with his right hand, and felt his shoulder yanked nearly out of socket as he slammed into the wall. He fought the urge to cry out, and instead scrambled to get both hands on the rope, and his feet planted under him.
It took several long, painful seconds, but he had it. He was braced in a pose he thought of as “Batman style,” with his feet flat on the wall’s surface and his weight supported entirely by his hands.
He looked up to see Jocelyn and Milton peering from the opening, wide-eyed and worried.
He nodded, then waddled across the wall until they could get a grip on the rope.
Milton, for his part, did ok with slowly crawling from the window. He held the top tight, and his legs hung nearly useless below him. But he was able to gently lower himself down.
Adam managed to climb down to the overhang, and braced the rope as Milton came to join him.
Jocelyn was out then as well, and showed quite a bit of prowess. She clearly had some sort of climbing experience. Adam made a mental note to ask her about that later.
Once all three of them were standing on the roof of the overhang, Adam lay down and looked over its edge. No one was in sight. The glass doors had been shattered inward, but no one seemed to be nearby, guarding this obvious exit from the building.
Which meant that either everyone had been captured inside, or David—the current brains of the outfit—wasn’t thinking about things like escape routes. Maybe his abilities were being taxed.
Or maybe he had the SWAT team on autopilot, like the UVFs. That was an interesting idea. It implied that David couldn’t be everywhere at once—which was a relief. But it also implied that he was somehow programming the Suppressed, getting them to access their own skills and knowledge, so that they could run as automatons.
He would have to think about this later, though. For the moment, he and Jocelyn and Professor Milton needed to get out of here.
Once again they took to the rope. Only this time Adam pulled up the slack of it, made a harness, and lowered Professor Milton to the ground. Milton then acted as an anchor for Jocelyn and Adam as they scaled the rest of the way down.
Once on the ground they avoided the ruin of the door, and any ground-level windows. They raced along the wall of the building until they came to the alley.
Adam peered down it toward the street. The alley was a jumble of wooden pallets and hurricane fencing. But inside the rubble, he could just make out the shape of the Hummer. The keys would be inside.
He felt at the small of his back. The .45 was there, and he drew this out, made sure it was ready to fire, and led with it in front of him.
He also felt the bulk of the syringes. He’d forgotten they were there.
They stepped around the corner and into the alley, making their way toward the rubble that camouflaged the Hummer. It took a bit to climb over the debris, but they eventually managed. And with just a bit of effort Adam got the door open and guided Milton and Jocelyn inside.
He climbed in, settled in the driver’s seat, and found the keys dangling from the ignition.
This would be make or break time.
Chapter Seventeen
Adam checked once again to make sure Jocelyn and Milton were strapped in. Once the engine started they might not have
much time. He was going to have plow their way out of the jumble of wooden pallets and wire fencing, and hope that the Hummer could get up to speed quickly. The SWAT team might be Suppressed, but there was every possibility they’d come running once they heard the Hummer’s engine start.
Adam shook his head. There was no choice. There was nothing to be cautious about. There was only staying here or making a run for it.
He cranked the engine, and it turned over in one try.
He slammed the Hummer into drive and jammed his foot on the gas pedal, launching them forward with a racket of scraping and squealing and thudding as the debris moved over the Hummer and fell away. Thankfully the windshield held up to a few hard bumps, and in a moment they were shooting out of the alley almost unscathed.
Two SWAT members were on guard at the front of the building, they raised their weapons to fire.
Adam jerked the steering wheel to the right, putting a line of abandoned cars between him and the SWAT team. Still, a couple of rounds ricocheted from the metal frame of the Hummer.
He spun the wheel again, this time aiming directly for the fence that surrounded the parking lot. He said a silent prayer, hoping that the Hummer had the brute force power needed to drive straight through.
They slammed into the fencing, and the wires bulged outward until a gap formed ahead of them—they essentially drove under the fence at high speed. It made for a horrendous noise of metal scraping metal, but once they were through they jostled across the sidewalk and found themselves on the street.
Adam immediately turned down a side street—one with more cover, in case the helicopters came after them. He needed to find a place to hide, preferably one where they could keep the Hummer, and where they could regroup a bit.
He was looking for parking garages or other structures when suddenly Carl, Lisa, and Taylor stepped out into the street. Guns raised.
Adam slammed on the brakes.
Actually, Lisa was leaning heavily on Carl, her head lolling to the side. She looked injured.