The Dead Horizon

by Seth Rain

  Fifty-Nine

  Scott drove as fast as he dared along the motorway and A roads. He ignored the self-drivers pulled over at the side of the road, dead bodies still in their cars, facing the way they were going, as if waiting in a never-ending traffic jam.

  He tuned the radio, searching for the message he’d heard from the survivors in Birmingham.

  Ahead he saw the tall, unfinished buildings at the centre of the huge city. Scott thought back to when he first visited Birmingham with Paul. He’d followed him, with no idea what was going to happen. Now it felt he was living a different life. Again the idea came to him that he was not in control of any of it. He wanted that feeling back – to be in control, to make choices. But he didn’t know what that meant any more.

  Other roads branched off the motorway, winding and turning, above then below other roads. The road to the left led towards the city centre. Scott stepped on the accelerator a little more, eager to find Eve. What Mathew had said made little sense. But because it was also specific, Scott knew there must be some truth to it. He had to find out what was happening.

  The 4x4 sped along the slip road towards an expressway several lanes wide. He entered a tunnel. Inside, the sound of the engine and the tyres on tarmac roared. He exited the tunnel. A voice came on the radio. It was the same recording. He looked around for a place to park, where he would be seen – and found – easily. The roads were congested with self-drivers that had pulled over when the Rapture happened, and Scott was finding it harder to find a way through. Up ahead was Birmingham library, the place he told George to meet him. It wasn’t yet midday, the time they’d agreed, but he hoped there was a chance he’d be there. Outside it was a huge square, where several people lay on the ground where they’d fallen. He weaved through the bodies and stopped. He got out and looked all around. There was no sign of anyone.

  ‘Hey!’ he shouted, his voice echoing. A flock of pigeons rose from behind the library then descended again.

  Scott waited, but saw and heard nothing. He ran back to the 4x4, opened the door and slammed his hand against the horn. The sound was immense in the enclosed square. Again more birds rose and swept across the sky, this time not descending again but flying away from the library. Scott kept his hand on the horn, all the time scanning for any sign of people.

  Finally, he let go. The sound of dogs barking in the distance rose and fell away. He walked away from the 4x4 and again stood out in the open.

  ‘Hey!’ he shouted. ‘Where is she?’

  He spun, looking in every direction.

  And they were there. Standing outside another glass building, to one side of the library, staring back at Scott. He ran towards them.

  They were women, both holding revolvers, pointed at him.

  ‘Stop!’ one woman said.

  Scott got close enough to see their faces, then stopped, holding up his hands. ‘Where is she?’

  The younger woman glanced at the other woman, whose eyes were fixed on Scott.

  ‘Who?’ the older, dark-haired woman asked.

  ‘Eve. She’s a baby. Do you have her?’

  The dark-haired woman lowered her revolver and glanced at the younger woman to do the same.

  ‘Please,’ Scott asked. ‘Do you have her? Is she safe?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ the older woman said. ‘Are you Scott?’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘We can explain everything. This is Tess,’ she said, nodding to the younger woman. ‘I’m June.’

  ‘How do you know who I am?’ Scott asked again.

  ‘Your friend,’ June said, pushing the revolver into her coat pocket. ‘George. He said you would be looking for him.’

  Scott sighed with relief. ‘Please, take me to them.’

  June led the way along the side of the glass building and onto a narrow street where a van was parked.

  ‘Get in,’ she said.

  Scott did as he was told and the two women got into the front.

  ‘Is there a man with you,’ Scott asked, ‘who was once a Watcher?’

  The two women glanced at each other.

  ‘Yes,’ Tess said. ‘Samuel. Why? How do you know him?’

  Scott covered his face with both hands. He recalled him – the Watcher Freya said helped get Scott to the surgical-machine the day he tried to shoot himself, who had helped them find Juliet. ‘We need to hurry. Where’s Eve?’

  ‘She’s five minutes away,’ June said, starting the engine.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Tess asked.

  Scott peered out of the windscreen. ‘Samuel wants to kill Eve. I have to get to her, make sure she’s safe.’

  ‘What?’ June said with a confused smile.

  ‘He wants to kill Eve,’ he said again.

  ‘Why?’ Tess asked. ‘That’s insane. Why would he do that?’

  Scott didn’t know how much to tell them so said nothing. ‘Please, just hurry.’

  Finally, the van stopped outside a row of houses. The two women got out. Scott tried his door but it was locked.

  ‘Open it!’ he shouted, banging against it.

  The door slid open and Scott jumped out. ‘Where is she?’

  Tess pointed to one of the houses. Scott ran to the front door and banged against it. He winced at a shooting pain rifling through his arm. June arrived beside him and took Scott’s arm, glancing at the stump where his arm ended.

  ‘Please,’ she said, trying to calm him. ‘Let me.’ She knocked on the door in a particular way: three times, followed by a pause, followed by three quicker knocks. A moment later, the door opened.

  Scott pushed past the woman in the doorway. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Wait!’ June shouted. ‘It’s okay, Harriet,’ she said to the woman who’d opened the door. ‘This way,’ she said to Scott.

  He followed her through the house. Scott heard shouting. June glanced at him and quickened her pace.

  They followed the shouting to a room upstairs. George was hammering his fists against a closed door, demanding to be let inside.

  ‘Scott!’ George said when he saw him, relief in his eyes. Then his expression changed to one of desperation. ‘Samuel has Eve in there. I can’t get to her.’

  There was a window in the door. Scott looked through it and saw Samuel hunched over Eve.

  ‘What is he doing?’ June asked.

  Scott shouted through the glass. ‘Samuel!’

  Samuel spun around, his face flushed.

  ‘Let me in!’ Scott said.

  Samuel turned back to Eve. Something glinted in his hand. Beside him, a surgical-machine lay dormant, but poised, waiting for instructions.

  ‘Why does he have that?’ he said, turning to June. ‘The surgical-machine?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He asked us to take one from the hospital. He said it would be useful.’

  Scott tried the handle but it wouldn’t budge. He thumped against the door. ‘Let me in!’

  Samuel placed a hand on Eve’s arm and leaned towards her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Scott shouted. ‘Let go of her.’

  In desperation, Scott kicked the door. ‘Stop! Leave her alone!’

  Holding Eve’s arm in one hard, a needle in the other, Samuel glanced back at Scott, his eyes apologetic.

  ‘No!’ Scott shouted.

  Samuel’s hand shook, the needle wavering back and forth.

  ‘Please,’ Scott said, his face pushed up to the window. ‘Please! Don’t…’

  The needle in Samuel’s hand trembled, hovering above Eve’s arm.

  Scott inhaled and tried to think. ‘Talk to me,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Why are you doing this?’

  Samuel walked over to the door. ‘I have to. I’m sorry, but I have to.’ He turned away.

  Scott’s eyes watched the needle. Eve lay on her back, kicking and gurgling, unaware.

  ‘Why?’ Scott asked. ‘Samuel. Talk to me.’

  Samuel waited.

  ‘My name’s Scot
t. Remember me?’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Samuel said. ‘I remember. I helped Freya get you to the surgical-machine that day. It was brave. What you did, trying to prove your date wrong – it was brave.’ He glanced across at the surgical-machine next to Eve. ‘I helped you find Juliet.’

  Scott nodded. ‘Yes, you did. And those were the right things to do.’

  Samuel looked surprised.

  ‘But this … why do you want to hurt her?’ Scott asked.

  Samuel’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I wish I didn’t have to. But she’s an abomination.’

  The word sounded strange, out of place.

  ‘What do you mean? She’s just a baby.’

  Samuel shook his head. ‘You don’t understand.’

  Scott narrowed his eyes, willing the man to back away from her. ‘Open the door,’ he said, trying to sound calm, reasonable. ‘Please. Let’s talk.’

  Samuel’s eyes narrowed. He looked at the needle, then at Eve, then at the door.

  ‘Please,’ Scott said. ‘Open the door and talk to me.’

  ‘You’ll stop me,’ Samuel said, shaking his head.

  ‘Then tell me.’ Scott inhaled deeply. ‘Explain to me why you’re doing it.’

  Samuel closed his eyes.

  ‘Please,’ Scott said. ‘I can’t get inside. But please tell me why you’re doing it. Make me understand.’

  Samuel walked slowly towards the door, his eyes on Scott’s. ‘I was a Watcher,’ Samuel said.

  Scott put his hand into his pocket and gripped his revolver.

  Samuel stared at the floor. ‘I’m not a Watcher any longer.’

  ‘Why?’ Scott said, glancing past him at Eve lying on the table.

  ‘Because what Mathew is doing is wrong. I see that now.’

  ‘Of course it’s wrong.’

  ‘But it’s not what you think.’

  Scott looked impatient.

  Samuel focused on Eve. ‘It’s inside her.’

  Scott waited. ‘What is?’

  ‘The AI. It’s inside her.’

  ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’ Scott pushed the barrel of the revolver against the door handle, covering the keyhole. He recalled what Mathew had told him. She is a New Human. ‘I was there when they did it,’ Samuel said, whispering through the glass. ‘To those young women. That’s why I had to leave.’

  ‘You’re not making sense,’ Scott said, frustrated.

  Samuel pointed at Eve with the needle.

  ‘She’s Mathew’s child.’

  ‘I know,’ Scott said.

  ‘What?’ George asked, but there was no time to explain.

  Samuel looked taken aback. ‘But she’s not a normal baby. She’s different. The AI is inside her.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I saw the experiments. I saw them. She’s part machine. She’ll reach a certain age and then the replication of cells inside her will be controlled by AI and nanotechnology. It’s inside her. She’ll have access to machine learning, to knowledge and abilities we can only dream of.’

  ‘She’s a baby,’ Scott said, not wanting to believe it. ‘Just a baby.’

  ‘No,’ Samuel said, his expression darkening. ‘She is Mathew’s creation. His creation – humanity’s replacement. So now you see why I have to destroy her. She’s unnatural. Wrong.’

  ‘No!’ Scott said. ‘She’s just a child. You can’t.’

  ‘What choice do I have? It has to be done now, while we have the chance, if humanity is going to survive.’

  Scott saw determination in Samuel’s eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Samuel said. Then he frowned, his head tilting to one side, reading what Scott was about to do.

  Scott pulled the trigger and fired through the keyhole. The bullet hit Samuel’s hip, and he spun and fell to the ground. The door swung open.

  Clearly in pain, Samuel got to his feet. He was still holding the needle. Blood oozing from the bullet wound, he staggered over to Eve and jabbed the needle into her thigh.

  She squealed.

  ‘Don’t come any closer!’ Samuel said, his finger hovering over the plunger on the syringe. ‘Stay there!’

  Scott stopped. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please, don’t do it.’

  ‘In time, you’ll understand why,’ Samuel said, wincing in pain. ‘In time, you’ll know why I have to do this.’

  Scott pointed his gun at Samuel. ‘Don’t!’

  Samuel bowed his head.

  Out of the corner of Scott’s eye he saw movement. The surgical-machine, its arms extending, turning through several revolutions, their gears whirring. One mechanical arm struck Samuel’s chest and lifted him into the air, its metal arm straining with the weight. Samuel yelled in pain.

  Scott dashed across the room to pick Eve up but stopped, horrified, as he saw the surgical-machine bury its other arm, fashioned into a knife, in Samuel’s back. Abruptly his screaming stopped. The surgical-machine released his body, which slumped to the floor.

  Scott looked from Samuel’s body, to Eve, the needle jabbed into her leg. ‘What do I do?’ Scott shouted.

  George was beside him, holding Eve’s thigh with one hand and pulling out the needle with the other. He threw the needle and syringe to the ground next to Samuel.

  Scott grabbed Eve and held her. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’ George looked from the surgical-machine to Samuel lying dead on the ground.

  ‘The surgical-machine,’ June breathed. ‘How did it do that? Who was operating it?’

  Scott held Eve tightly. He kissed the top of her head and she cried gently. ‘It’s okay. It’s all okay now.’

  George edged closer to the surgical-machine. ‘Was it some sort of machine learning, maybe? Traces of the AI?’

  Scott looked at Eve and, with a start, realised that her eyes were a different colour from their usual dark brown; they shone a deep violet, the same as the eyes of the dead. He stared at her, shocked. Flecks of silver shifted in the purple of her irises and at that moment he knew that she had – somehow – operated the surgical-machine. How? How did she do it? It shouldn’t have been possible. What Mathew had said about Eve came back to him, and what Samuel had said. She’s part machine. She’ll have access to machine learning, to knowledge and abilities we can only dream of. Abomination.

  He shook off the idea. No, he thought. It wasn’t possible. The surgical-machine stood innocent and motionless, apart from blood dripping from one of its mechanical arms.

  June walked over to the terminal that controlled the surgical-machine and pressed several buttons. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘How do I turn this thing off?’

  Scott held Eve so no one else could see the colour of her eyes. He decided to keep what he’d been told to himself. Could the AI really be inside her? But he knew. It was inside her. Somehow, it was inside her.

  When he looked at her again, her eyes were again dark brown.

  Sixty

  Because of what had happened with Samuel, and because Scott suspected Mathew knew they were in Birmingham, they left as soon as they could and travelled to Shrewsbury, a town sixty miles away, close to the Welsh border. They found a hotel not far from the town centre for all twenty-three of them.

  Scott held the stump of his arm with his hand. The pain had waited to hit him all at once, crashing over him in more and more forceful waves.

  ‘Take these,’ George said, handing him two tablets. ‘I can see it’s hurting.’

  Scott shook his head. ‘No. I’m done with all that.’ He thought back to the whisky he’d drunk over the years, enhanced with all sorts of chemicals. It had made him numb. Now he wanted to feel everything he could – even pain.

  George pushed the pills into his pocket. ‘Suit yourself.’

  Eve lay on the floor, on her front, lifting her head to look for Scott. He smiled at her and she smiled back.

  ‘I’ll be back soon,’ Scott said, standing and leaving the room. George sat on the chai
r in front of Eve, who rocked on her tummy, trying to roll over.

  ‘Hurry up,’ George said. ‘It’s dinner-time.’

  Scott walked into his hotel room, closed the door and locked it. He reached beneath the bed and dragged out his rucksack. He reached inside and took out the black box the AI had asked him to take with him. It was cold to the touch, its surface matt black. He turned it in his hand several times then placed it on the floor next to the bed. Slowly, he lifted his boot and stood on the box. It was solid – not like a box with circuitry inside, more like a piece of marble. He stepped off it, took the revolver from his pocket and pointed it at the box. No. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t destroy all that knowledge, all that intelligence. He dropped the revolver on the bed, then picked up the box, turning it in his hands again before shoving it back into the rucksack. He had everything he needed and was ready to leave that night. He’d not told anyone but he knew the women there would look after Eve. Hassness House, sitting at the foot of the mountains, beside the lake, came to mind. He would be alone again. Looking at his arm, he imagined his hand still there, along with the tattoo. For so long he had believed it told him the date he would die, and the date still carried some importance, like today did. It was his birthday: the sixth of May. He was thirty-five.

  Scott knew the others would have to stay on the run, hiding from Mathew and his Watchers. But now, without the AI to track them, they would have a chance.