by RJ Johnson
One of the mysterious men searching for Meade wandered close to him and he drew a breath, holding it, hoping that in this virtual environment, the man searching for him couldn’t hear his heart beating. To Meade, it sounded like a full drumline was practicing in his rib cage.
The man’s boots scraped the concrete directly in front of Meade’s eye line. He paused looking around, before finally turning to his companion in disgust, “He’s not here yet.”
“Then sit your ass down and shut the fuck up while we wait for him. The Source said he’d be landing here any minute. If he’s not here, then we’re probably early and we wait for him. You wanna shave that time off your sentence? This is how you do it.”
Meade swallowed and crouched down as much as he could. Whatever they had planned, it didn’t sound like it boded well for his health.
“Besides,” the voice added, “it ain’t like we got anywhere else to go.”
“Yeah but…” the man kicked a piece of metal across the warehouse, hearing it clang against the opposite wall, “hardly seems fair to ambush the man just as he’s getting his bearings.”
“Not our problem. You wanna make it out? Or you wanna play fair?” The second voice snapped. Meade adjusted himself to get a better look at the two men arguing. One was an aging thin man, with a weathered face and long stringy white hair. His beard was stained yellow from years of Gap use (a potent street drug that delivered a short pleasant high, yet fried their nervous system over time), and the clothing he wore was denim that had seen better days.
“I’m just saying, maybe we could…”
A crash sounded directly above Meade and he heard the “oof!” of a man in pain.
“What the fuck man? What’d you have to go and do that for?” The man complaining sounded like he was in pain, possibly bleeding. Meade couldn’t help but grin.
“I told you to shut the fuck up and I meant it.”
“Sorry,” the wounded man shuffled back over towards his friend and sat down next to him. Meade shifted his weight and was able to see them as they waited for him to appear. He took the opportunity to examine his two new adversaries.
Whoever had sent them, they hadn’t given them much to work with. But, while their weapons looked crude, they were still dangerous enough to make him worry about his safety. The older white haired gap addict held what looked like a sharpened shovel blade attached to a club while the other, was holding a solid block of wood that had been angled into what was probably a very effective spear.
“Howie, how many years do you think we can get off this one?”
The white haired addict scratched at a scab underneath his beard while he considered his friend’s request, “I ‘spect we’ll get at least fifteen to twenty years. Source said he was a young buck and in good shape, so his melon’s got to have at least that much available. You never know, I’ve seen some folk in here get nearly sixty years outta fresh meat.”
“Sixty years…” the younger one whistled in amazement. “That’d get me home.”
“Don’t get your hopes up kid,” Howie warned. “Fresh meat is only as good as their minds are. Only morons get caught and those types usually don’t have too much left upstairs for you to hack your sentence with. Most of the Gap addicts that get dumped in here only get you six weeks to a year off your sentence at best.”
“Yeah but the Source said…”
“The Source tells us whatever it needs to in order to get us to do what it wants,” Howie snarled, “and Johnny, I’ll tell ya what, the quicker you figure that the Source has its own game to play, the faster you get out of here.”
Johnny nodded as he listened attentively to his mentor for advice. Meade couldn’t get an exact handle on what they were talking about, but none of it sounded good. They were waiting and he wouldn’t be able to get out with how they were blocking the door.
Meade mulled over his situation and could only see one way out. He’d need to flank the two inmates lying in wait and hopefully take them by surprise before they could use the lethal looking clubs they were holding onto.
He very quietly got up and moved as carefully as he could through the warehouse, hiding from the two thugs looking to accost him. Carefully, step by step, he moved through the warehouse knowing that even the slightest sound would alert them to his presence. He shuffled his feet silently on the ground, using a technique his father had showed him years ago to get in and out of rooms quietly.
He bumped a metal rod that twisted and turned, its momentum about to carry it off the table it sat and on and onto the floor, but Meade saw it in time and grabbed it just as it fell off and plummeted to the ground. He exhaled a sigh of relief, as he held the rod inches away from the concrete floor.
He held the piece of metal and looked around him, hoping to become more aware of dangers like that. He was doing well right up until he stumbled and his toe scraped at the concrete under his feet making a noise that reverberated through the room. He halted his advance and silently cursed at himself. He had been so distracted by that rod nearly falling to the floor, he hadn’t moved his feet properly.
“What was that?” Johnny asked, standing up to look.
Howie stood up next to him and nodded, pointing towards the back of the room where Meade was. “Stay back and be ready, he might be in here after all…”
Johnny and Howie advanced, each holding their weapon out in front, ready for Meade to leap out at them at any moment.
“You think he’s still naked?” Johnny whispered.
“Doubtful,” Howie groused. “If we hadn’t needed to wait for you, we probably would’ve gotten here in time.”
“Right, but, you already had your little shovel sword or whatever, I needed a weapon too, unless you’re such a badass you think you can take him by yourself,” Johnny retorted.
They moved through the warehouse, their heads swiveling back and forth as they searched for him. Meade moved quickly to a row of boxes and began to climb up on top of them. He watched as the pair below him moved toward where he was hiding and he tensed up. They were right below him, if he timed it right, he could take them both out at the same time.
He crouched and was about to move when he felt the boxes underneath him begin to shift. He lost his footing and instead of launching a perfectly time attack, he fell directly in front of the two men, sprawling out head over heels and completely out of sorts.
“Grab him!” Howie ordered to his friend. Johnny moved quickly and slammed his club directly into the side of Meade’s head.
Lights exploded in his vision and Meade moaned clutching his head. Apparently, it didn’t matter if wasn’t in the real world, his body and head sure felt like he had just been clubbed. The pain was intense and unlike anything he’d felt before - his brains’ neurons in the real world stimulating the pain receptors to match his experience within Enzeli.
Meade was suddenly very aware of just how vulnerable he was at the moment. It stood to reason that if his brain were able to simulate the experience of being bashed in the head with a club so vividly, he probably didn’t want to test out what happened if he were killed inside the virtual prison. That probably wouldn’t end well for his grey matter on the outside.
Woozy, he struggled to lift his arms and prevent the two thugs from hurting him any further, but, Johnny followed up his attack with a quick push and held Meade to the ground. Howie stepped up and placed the sharpened edge of the shovel against his throat.
“Grab the Bioxx and I’ll hold him down here,” Howie instructed. Johnny nodded and moved over to a backpack they had brought in with them. He heaved it up and put an arm through the strap to help him carry it over. Whatever the Bioxx was, it was heavy.
Johnny moved up next to Howie and Meade dropping the pack next to them with a resounding THUD.
“Careful you idiot, there’s only one of those,” Howie snapped. “Get it out and wrap him up.”
Johnny wrestled with the backpack and opened up the canvas flap. He pushed the canvas down aroun
d a black box with several wires, dials and springs attached to it. Meade squinted at the machine in confusion, he couldn’t figure out what it was they were attaching to him.
He felt two alligator clips pinch firmly onto his right hand’s loose skin. He cried out in pain as blood seeped out from the tiny tears in his skin that the clips were making. Johnny began to spool out wire with two alligator clips to attach to his left hand when he was stopped by Howie.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting me some time what does it look like?”
“Not before me you don’t,” Howie said. He grabbed the wires out of Johnny’s hands and shoved his sharpened shovel towards his companion. “Here, take this and keep him down.”
Meade couldn’t move if he wanted to, the wind was still knocked out of him and the sharpened shovel pointed at his throat wasn’t exactly an invitation to make any sudden movement. Johnny places the shovel’s blade against his throat and pushed gently.
“One wrong move and you’re done for, you hear me?” Johnny asked him. Meade nodded, his eyes crinkling as he watched Howie finish clipping the other end of the wires onto his pointed finger.
“Start it up,” Howie ordered. Johnny leaned over, still watching Meade, and flipped the switch on the black box.
Suddenly Meade was in more pain than he’d ever felt in his life. A blue glow had settled over his body as every pain receptor in his body felt like they were all firing at once. He screamed in pain and began to plead for death, though what probably came out of his mouth was nothing more than nonsensical babble. His body was violently shaking so violently, he couldn’t move more than what it took to thrash about on the floor.
“Hold him down goddammit!” Howie screamed. Johnny complied and put both his hands down on Meade’s shoulders. Meade prayed that the pain he was feeling would soon make him pass out. Unfortunately, that wasn’t happening. His body refused to shut down and take away the pain he was feeling. It was intense, and it was everywhere.
And suddenly, just like that it was over. Meade instantly vomited and was shaking while Howie groaned.
Johnny stepped forward hesitantly, “Howie…?”
Howie didn’t respond for a minute until he suddenly threw his head back in a primal scream of strength and victory.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Howie’s voice was different, strong, and without his normal wheeze. “Ten years without gap in here, if I’d have known about this, I’d have killed those people sooner. Best damn way to get high I’ve ever had.”
He leaned down to look at the Bioxx’s display and grinned broadly, “Got nearly five years outta him with just that one hack.” He fiddled with the knobs a bit, “And there’s still plenty of time left, look!”
Howie pointed at the machine’s blinking displays, one of which read “40 years remaining.” The faint red light from the machine’s LED display illuminated Meade’s face.
“We’re gonna split the other forty right?” Johnny asked, his eyes wide. “That’d knock a full third of my sentence off. I might even make it home in time for dinner.”
“Patience my young friend, patience. We do too much at once, we kill him,” Howie crouched down and smiled as he stroked Meade’s hair. “And we can’t have that can we? You’re far too valuable to the Source to be dead.”
“Fuck you…” Meade croaked. He couldn’t move. His body was in shock.
“’Fraid there isn’t a whole lot of that in Enzeli,” Howie chuckled and stood. He pointed to Meade, “Tie him up, and bring him back to camp. We’ll split the time when we get back there.”
Johnny nodded and took off a belt that was holding his pants up. He tied Meade’s hands up behind his back quickly, but he made sure that his prisoner was properly secured.
“Good, I’ll meet you back there. I’m going to connect with the Source and let her know that we found Meade and took care of him.”
“Can’t I just get a few years now? It won’t take that long…?” Johnny asked again.
“No damn you!” Howie cried out, slapping Johnny across the face. “I told you, we do too much at once, we lose out on all forty. His body can’t take two shocks to the system like that so close in a row. You kill him in here, he’s brain dead out there and then he’s no good to us.”
“Sorry Howie, I won’t mess with him,” Johnny hung his head low, angling away in case Howie decided to strike out at him again.
Howie nodded and began walking towards the door they had come in, “You keep him safe, and you’ll get all the years you need. I’ll be back.”
Howie walked out the door as Johnny turned his attention back to Meade. “Well, let’s get moving, I wanna get there before dark.”
“Where… where are we?” Meade got out. Johnny smiled and shook his head.
“You really don’t know do you?” He chuckled and pulled underneath Meade’s arm lifting him up and holding him steady, “You’re in Enzeli prison my friend, home to the worst of the worst New Plymouth has to offer. Welcome to the seventh level of hell.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Meade was still absorbing everything that had happened to him. Trapped without hope in Enzeli was not a good place to be.
“I wouldn’t exactly buy a vacation home, but it don’t seem so bad out there,” Meade wheezed, still trying to catching his breath from whatever they had done to him.
“You have no idea…” Johnny said menacingly. Meade decided to let that go for the moment. He didn’t want to antagonize the man until he knew everything he could about his plans for him.
“What did you two do to me?”
“Oh the Bioxx box?” Johnny chuckled as he poked Meade in the back with his club to push him out the warehouse door and into an open courtyard. “That’s a special little hack we whipped up in here to help pass the time.”
“Pass the time…?” Meade was confused.
Johnny looked at him suspiciously out of the corner of his eye, “Come on now, you’re not that thick. Every one of us has the long stretch in here, that’s why they sentenced us to live out the whole lot in our heads over the course of an afternoon in the Coalition’s jail center,” Johnny sounded like he was instructing a three year old on the finer points of his prison life. “With the Bioxx, we hack into your perspective and use it to accelerate the pace we experience our sentences. Howie over there just knocked five years off his sentence.”
“And what happened to me?” Meade questioned.
Johnny scratched at his face and grinned, “Well, ain’t nothing in life that’s free. Howie took five years of his sentence off thanks to you. And, those years are added onto your sentence.”
“Not exactly fair.”
“Everyone does it,” Johnny said defensively. “Besides, we can’t do too much to one guy, overclocking a body takes a toll on ‘em, some have hardly any sense left afterwards at all. Course, that all depends on how sharp your mind is. Some of Runabouts we get in here hardly have anything worth taking from them.”
“I lost five years?”
“Something like that,” Johnny agreed. “Computer back in the meatworld only checks the counter to see if it’s moving forward, it isn’t that accurate as to how fast… too many minds to keep track of, you understand. Though, I imagine once we get done with you, we’ll be sipping margaritas at the Lucky Lady,” he paused and tugged Meade on his shoulder, “Lucky Lady’s still there right?”
“Of course it is,” he said confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Johnny smiled and shook his head, “Sorry, I’ve been in here for what feels like two years already. It’s sometimes hard to keep track of how much time has actually passed in the meatworld.”
“How long was your sentence for?” Meade got the feeling that Johnny liked to talk. If he could keep the conversation going, maybe he could figure out a way to take advantage and get free somehow.
“Seventy five years, give or take, can you believe that? All I did was kill a man who deserved
to die anyway,” Johnny chuckled. “I dunno why the Coalition got all upset about it.”
“He deserved to die?”
“He wasn’t being corporative with what I was asking him to do.”
“What were you asking him to do?”
Johnny shrugged and a smile touched the side of his lips, “Empty his credit account into mine.”
“You got an odd way of justifying ways on killing a man.”
“Shit man,” Johnny said, pulling on Meade’s rope to keep him from moving too far, “It’s like ol’ Howie says, kill or be killed is just as accurate in here as it is in the meatworld.”
Meade didn’t respond to that, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t guilty of killing those who were out to do him harm. Though, unlike Johnny, Meade had never killed anyone who wasn’t already trying to kill him, or do hard to someone he loved. Johnny continued to blather on, unaware of Meade’s internal monologue.
“I gotta say though, you got quite a mind on those shoulders. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any fresh meat that had forty years we could hack off of ‘em. Hell, you’d knock enough off my sentence to make me feel like I might actually survive this hellhole. Shit, I’d do just about anything to get outta here that much sooner and that includes killing you.”
Meade felt the belt tied around his hands give a little bit and he moved cautiously testing the new range of motion. He could nearly slip his hands out if he just worked it a little bit more. He paused on the trail, and looked back at his captor.
“Or all forty.”
Johnny stopped, and cocked his head suspicious of his charge, “What are you gabbing about?”
“Look, you made it clear I ain’t getting outta here right?”
“You better believe it,” Johnny said, smiling.
“Then here’s what I say, you get as much of your sentence out of me as you can without killing me. In return, you help me get out by stealing other people’s time too.”
His captor burst out laughing at him, “Just where do you think you are boy? The Source’s got you on lockdown my friend. Howie said they have you set on serving out a thousand year sentence. Ain’t nowhere near enough timers in here you could shorttime outta here with.”