When There's No More Room in Hell 2

by Luke Duffy

  "Well, after tonight, you won't need to worry about it anymore," Robbie replied.

  Tobias stepped closer and peered in the cage. The dead inside threw themselves at the bars, thrusting their hands through the small openings and clutching at him as he remained a safe distance away.

  "You had any dramas from them?" Tobias asked, indicating the dead.

  The soldier shrugged. "Just the usual, really; sometimes they bang away at the cage, and others, they just stand their drooling at us."

  Robbie turned and grinned at him. "You mean like the time that Taff took us all to that gay bar in Soho, in uniform, when we were providing security at the Olympics?"

  The soldier laughed and nodded as he remembered the night that Robbie referred to. "Yeah, a bit like that."

  "Well, we're getting rid of them. The offensive has failed and it's pointless and dangerous to keep them here," Tobias said as he interrupted the reminiscing.

  He pulled his pistol from his holster and took a step closer. The first of the creatures continued to snarl at him, swiping its arms at the space between it and the living beyond the bars of the cage.

  Tobias took aim carefully, slowly squeezing the trigger. A flash of light exploded from the barrel, the sound of the bullet echoing thunderously around the large garage. The round smashed into the creature's forehead and erupted outwards from the back of its skull. It dropped instantly, slumping down the steel railings of the cage with its hand still sticking out through the bars.

  Robbie joined him and they shot three more in quick succession, leaving just two still standing.

  "Stop," Tobias ordered.

  He peered in the cage and at the far side. There, stood the figure of the defiant corpse he had watched and reasoned with the day they had been put in the enclosure. It remained in the shadows, watching the men outside as they killed the other dead around it. It had not attempted to attack the bars of the cage, as the others had done, but instead seemed to want to preserve its existence and keep out of the line of fire.

  Keeping his eyes focussed on the figure in the shadows, Tobias raised his pistol again, pointing it at the head of the growling, lifeless face that pressed itself up close to the bars of the cage.

  He fired again, the crack of the round booming in their ears. The body tumbled backwards and hit the floor with a thump. Still, the figure on the far side did not move or even acknowledge the demise of its fellow dead.

  "Okay," Tobias said turning to Robbie. "Open the cage."

  Robbie blinked back at him in confusion. "But, there's still one in there, Tobias."

  "I know that, Robbie. Now, open it."

  Robbie nodded and did as Tobias demanded. He released the locks and slid back the bolts, allowing the door to slide open. Robbie and the two soldiers stepped backwards, their hands gripping their weapons tightly as they waited for the one remaining creature to come bursting out of the dark interior of the cage.

  Only Tobias stood his ground. He stood in front of the entrance, staring into the blackness. His pistol was back in its holster and his hands were resting unthreateningly by his sides. He could sense the thing watching him, but he felt that he was being weighed up, studied more than looked on with ravenous eyes.

  Robbie and the two soldiers looked at one another with concern, but remained silent as they watched their commander at the door to the cage.

  "It's okay," Tobias' voice called out in the darkness. "You can come out. No one will hurt you."

  The figure did not budge or show any indication that it was willing to move, or understood anything that Tobias had said.

  Tobias stepped back and away from the entrance, giving the creature the opportunity of freedom from the narrow confines of the cell. A few moments later, he heard the shifting of feet and from out of the gloom, the one remaining dead slowly stepped forward.

  It moved cautiously, suspicious of the four living people carrying weapons that could easily end its existence. Nervously, it stepped into the low light of the entrance. It stopped and looked at the bodies of the dead around it. They lay motionless, congealed blood and rotting brains oozing from the gaping wounds in their heads. It looked back at Tobias, staring straight into his eyes.

  Tobias understood. He turned to the others. "Lower your weapons, it’s scared."

  "It's scared? I have shit my pants twice already, Tobias. What the fuck are we doing?" Robbie remarked from behind.

  "Just do it, Robbie. I don’t think it wants to hurt us."

  The figure in the doorway watched as the weapons were slung over the shoulders of the soldiers. It looked back at Tobias again, and then stepped forward, out from the cage and into the open.

  It stopped, waiting for whatever was to come next.

  Tobias walked towards it. It cowered slightly, as though it was about to retreat into the darkness of the cage behind it again.

  "No," Tobias said in a soothing voice and holding his hands out in front of him, "it's okay. No one is going to hurt you."

  "Fucking hell," Robbie exclaimed, stepping forward and around to the side. "I've never seen one look scared before, let alone try to run away."

  Tobias and the figure were close now. Just an arm's length separated them as they both stood silently, watching one another. Tobias fought to keep his composure as the smell of the creature drifted into his nostrils.

  A sudden flurry of movement from the side caused the body of the man to reel as Robbie lunged. As quickly as he had stepped in, Robbie jumped back, clutching something in the palm of his hand.

  "What's this then?" he asked as he opened the wallet.

  Tobias held out his hand, indicating to Robbie to hand it to him. The wallet was mouldy and damp. It had been in the man's pocket since the day he had died and Tobias cringed at the thought of the untold amount of filth he was holding in his hand. However, the curiosity was too great. Tobias was intrigued by the thing that stood before him, unflinching and defiant, staring back at him with eyes that told him there was still a spark of intelligence behind them.

  He pulled out a driving license and read the name aloud, "Andrew Moorcroft."

  The creature's eyes widened and a low hoarse gasp escaped its lips as it clearly recognised the words that Tobias spoke.

  "Your name, it is Andrew Moorcroft?" Tobias asked in an attempt to communicate with the dead man in front of him. The dead eyes looked back at him, unblinking.

  "Andrew, that is you, isn't it?" Tobias spoke, pointing the license at him.

  Andy looked at the license and then back at Tobias. His expression changed, raising his brow as his mouth opened, releasing a long sorrowful groan. He brought his fingers up towards Tobias' hand and touched the plastic of the identification card. His brow furrowed then raised again as he was clearly bombarded with distant memories. He moaned gently and affectionately as he took the card from Tobias, studying it and stroking the face of the man in the picture.

  "Jesus, it knows its own name," Robbie whispered.

  "That’s why we're letting him go," Tobias replied as he watched Andy and handed him back his wallet.

  Andy took the wallet in his bony hands and stared down at it. He gently ran his fingers over the leather, caressing it, and grunted as he felt familiarity surge through him.

  "Letting it go? Are you serious?"

  "Look at him," Tobias replied. "If he was like the others, he would've attacked us. I don’t think this poor soul is interested in the living. I get the impression he is more afraid of us that we are of him and he just wants to be left alone."

  Andy looked up at him and then back at Robbie. There was no malice or aggression in his face as he studied the men before him.

  Robbie realised that Tobias was right. The thing in front of them was unlike the others. It made no aggressive moves towards them, even now, in the open and with no restraints, it stood its ground and did not make any indication that it wanted to harm them.

  Tobias stepped back and moved towards the door. He threw it open and motioned for A
ndy to follow. Andy hesitated. He looked around at the three other men in the spacious garage and then at the open door.

  The rain had stopped and the twilight gloom of the evening caused the wet surfaces to sparkle as the light slowly began to fade into darkness.

  "They won't hurt you, Andrew. You're free," Tobias called back from the doorway.

  Andy nervously staggered towards him, still clutching the wallet and driver's license in his hand. A wave of emotion flowed over him as he realised that he would not be destroyed and that they were offering to let him go. He longed to be free again, to be left alone and allowed to walk away.

  Out in the open, Tobias walked alongside of Andy as they moved towards the gate and the barricade. Andy moved slowly, his feet scuffing along the ground as his eyes remained fixed upon the gate ahead of them.

  Tobias watched him intently. It was hard to believe that here he was, walking alongside one of the un-dead. He had never imagined such a thing. He could see that the body of Andrew Moorcroft was much the same as the others. It was withered and slowly decomposing with all manner of creatures infesting it, but his brain was different.

  There was still a spark of life in the dead man, and Tobias could see it.

  Robbie and the two soldiers followed close behind, still in awe of the courage, or stupidity, that their leader was showing and the fact that the dead man seemed to understand everything that was happening.

  Tobias opened the large heavy gate and with an open palm, gestured to the outside world.

  Andy looked at him, then at his hand that indicated his freedom. He turned and looked back at Robbie, and then back to Tobias.

  "Go on," Tobias nodded. "You can go."

  Andy took a tentative step towards the opening, and then stopped. He turned back to the man that was setting him free and reached his hand out.

  Tobias looked down and saw that Andy was reaching towards his chest. The cold bony palm of his hand lightly touched the material of Tobias' shirt, remaining there for a moment as they both stared at one another.

  Tobias looked down at the dead hand that rested on his torso, close to where his heart was. He looked back up at Andrew and saw a glimpse of something behind his dead eyes. He realised that, the lifeless man before him was trying to say, 'Thank you'.

  Andy nodded slightly, then turned and walked away.

  END

  Read on for a free sample of Machines of the Dead

  Chapter 1

  “Damn it,” Dr. Reynolds said when he looked through the glass into the containment room. Homeless person number 14 was dead, the bots taking too much of the man’s energy, sucking him down to almost nothing more than a husk.

  “I don’t understand why the programming isn’t working,” he said, and hit the kill switch, filling the containment room with enough electromagnetic energy to wipe out a small town’s electrical equipment. “The bots worked perfectly in the rats.”

  “Sir,” said Dr. Chan, his assistant. “The human brain is just too complex. Maybe we—”

  “Maybe we what, tell the military that their project is too much for us? That they should find another company to work on this project? We’ll just give back the millions upon millions we’ve been funded, and say sorry.”

  Dr. Chan sighed and looked down. “I’ll have more test subjects rounded up. The city’s full of them.”

  “Get on that; tell Chambers I want at least twenty—no, thirty.”

  “Thirty? Sir that’s too many at one time. We’ve never—”

  “I need to be alone,” Dr. Reynolds said, cutting his assistant off.

  “I’ll take lunch then,” Chan said, and left the control room.

  When the military first approached him, Dr. Eugene Reynolds had thought it a good thing. Now he wasn’t so sure. What if he couldn’t deliver? What would they do to him? Would he ever be able to work again, or would his reputation be ruined? None of that mattered, because he was going to make the project work; give the government what they wanted. He had never failed before and he wasn’t about to now. With thirty more subjects coming in, plus the ten he had left, he would be able to get the bots to work. He had to.

  Sitting down at his computer, he began to re-work the nano’s interface module. He needed stronger bots, and ones that required less host-energy.

  Chapter 2

  Derek Mayfield had been living on the streets of New York City for ten years, having spent time in almost every borough. At the age of fifteen, he was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, and under his parents’ medical insurance, he received the proper care and medication for him to maintain a normal lifestyle.

  At the age of nineteen, he fell in love with Clare Schmidt, a waitress and recreational drug user. Together, they partied at night and on their days off from work; it was a twenty-four hour party. Marijuana and beer were the drugs of choice, until one day, they decided to try cocaine. From that day forward, it was the hard narcotics: cocaine, speed, meth, and heroin.

  Off his meds, Derek experienced major mood swings. They could occur at any moment and anywhere. After Clare died from an overdose, Derek spiraled further down the path of destruction. One day, while arguing with his parents over money, he snapped and killed them both.

  Since that night, he had been living on the streets, hiding from the cops and society. His weight had dropped to half of what it used to be; he was dirty and had a full, scruffy beard. He was always looking to score, and one day a large, well-built man came to him, offering him a job.

  “Work for you?” he asked the big guy. “I thought you brought me to this back alley because you wanted me to blow you.”

  The big man smiled, but something about his smile bothered Derek, making his blood feel as if it had turned into ice.

  “I work for a pharmaceutical company,” the big guy said.

  Derek’s eyes lit up at hearing the word pharmaceutical.

  He was in.

  “My boss,” the big fellow continued, “is looking for test subjects. Former drug users, current drug users, and whatnot.”

  “What do I gotta do, suck his dick?”

  The big man laughed. “No, no. Nothing like that. He needs people willing to go around the bureaucratic tape, the paperwork. Things get done much faster that way. Course it’s all off the record. We keep our mouths shut, and you do the same.”

  “How long is the job?”

  “Should be no more than a few days and while you’re staying with us, you’ll be fed, bathed, and given whatever you need.” The big man held up a small baggie filled with white nose candy. Derek reached out, grabbed the coke and held it close to his chest. “And you’ll earn a thousand bucks, cash.”

  What did he have to lose?

  Now, sitting in his room five stories below Manhattan, in an underground bunker, Derek started to feel as if he were in withdrawal. He was antsy and needed a fix. The small room was too claustrophobic. It made him angry. Made him wonder why he was there in the first place. Who were the rich assholes who needed him? How much were they going to make off him?

  He deserved more than a grand.

  Derek closed his eyes and began smacking himself upside the head until he felt right again. Truth was he needed the money. Didn’t everyone need money? He’d been allowed to take numerous showers. The hot water was something he had longed for, and he was fed and clothed, just as the big guy promised. He could do this, whatever it was. If all they wanted were samples of his blood, they could have them. Shit, they could keep on having them if he could stay here. His brain was so fucked up. He needed meds. Fuck that. Meds turned him into someone else. He needed drugs, the kind he could use to leave the world and enter the land of ecstasy. Once he got paid, he would go out and celebrate in style. Get the good stuff, not that shitty crank he had to settle for on the streets. Maybe, he would even find a woman.

  Okay, he could do this. Let them take whatever they wanted from him. A little blood, sure. Some skin, sure. He had done way worse, for far less. Nasty things with nasty p
eople. He should count his blessings and enjoy himself. If only his head wasn’t so fucked up.

  Sitting on his bed, he waited for his turn in the lab.

  An hour later, a doctor entered his room.

  “Hello, Mr. Mayfield,” the man said. “My name’s Dr. Chan. How are we doing today?”

  Scratching his head and twitching, Derek said, “Good. I’m doing good.”

  Chan looked at him curiously. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah. What have you got for me, Doc?”

  “I’m going to give you a very mild sedative, so that when we bring you to the lab, you won’t be as jumpy.”

  “I like sedatives. It’s a good idea. I’m a little nervous.”

  “Oh, this is nothing really. I doubt you’ll notice a thing, and as far as being nervous, don’t be. All we’re going to do is x-ray your body, take some blood and skin samples and send you on your way.”

  “Sounds good, Doc.” Derek held out his arms. “Pick one.”

  The doctor approached him, held onto the left arm and injected him with the syringe he was holding. “Okay,” he said, “all done.”

  “I’ll just lay back and enjoy . . . I mean, wait for you to come back.”

  “Relax, Mr. Mayfield. You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Chan said, then walked out of the room and closed the door. Derek heard the lock click and jumped.

  “Fuck,” he said. Why were they locking him in? Precautionary, that’s all, he thought. He laid back and tried to relax, let the drug take effect. However, after a few minutes, he felt the same. He wondered what the hell was going on. He’d been on plenty of sedatives and whatever they had given him, sure wasn’t one.

  Shit. They were screwing with him.

  Sitting up, his heart racing, he looked around the almost barren room. Cameras! They must have cameras and were watching him to see how he would react. But why?

  He searched the room, looking in the corners, under the bed, and along the walls. Nothing; he found nothing. Shit. He was just being paranoid, allowing his condition to get the best of him. If only he had a hit of something, something to calm him down, because whatever they had given him was total bullshit. Maybe, he shouldn’t have lied on the form he filled out and informed them that he was bi-polar, and a heavy drug user, instead of just a recreational one. Maybe then, they would have given him a stronger dose of sedative.