by Glenn Wood
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
They spun around in shock. Parson and Darryl stood in the middle of the training area. They wore crumpled black trackpants, identical olive green T-shirts and had bare feet. Parson’s dreadlocks were matted and stuck to the side of his head. They had just woken up, but this didn’t make them any less dangerous. Parson’s Glock rested lazily in his hand, pointing at the ground before his feet. Darryl was unarmed but he flexed a bicep the size of a toaster to remind the children that he didn’t need to be armed to be dangerous.
Darryl sneered. “Looky here,” he said. “It’s those brats from the other night. We didn’t expect to see you again so soon. ’Specially not in the middle of our top-secret underground hideout.”
Parson waved the gun towards the open doorway. “That’s the boss’s room, and he doesn’t like to be disturbed. Lucky for you he’s a heavy sleeper. Step back from the door, and we’ll let him rest. Let’s just keep this between us, eh? ”
Panic gripped Callum. He forced himself to stay calm, if not for his own sake, then for Sophie’s.
Parson waved the gun at them and hissed through his teeth. “Move.”
Callum and Sophie did as they were told. They moved out of the doorway and back into the training area.
Parson spoke again. “The first thing I’d like to know is how you found us.”
Callum shrugged and answered with more cool than he felt. “We looked you up in the phone book under ‘thugs for hire’.”
Darryl stepped forwards threateningly. “Watcha mouth, boy,” he snarled.
Callum stood his ground, his fear replaced by anger. They’d come so close; they couldn’t fail now. “We’re not telling you anything. But I’ll give you one chance to return what you stole from my grandmother. If not, things will go very badly for you.”
Parson’s lips curled into a menacing smile. “You don’t seem to ’ave grasped the situation. I’m the one standin’ here with a gun, and my friend Darryl could snap your neck like a cracker if he wanted to, so how ’bout a bit of cooperation.”
“Sorry, no can do.” Callum shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter. You being here is a bit of a problem for Darryl and me. You see, we told our boss that no one saw us suckin’ the goodness out of your gran, so if you’re to tell him different, well, let’s just say that’ll reflect poorly on us.” Parson sighed. “So I’m gonna have to kill both of you.”
Parson raised his gun. Callum reached for the torch in his wheelchair bag but was too late. Two shots rang out and then there was silence.
Fourteen
Rose woke at three am. She had a sudden desire to listen to rap music, which was unusual because she hated it. Still, the urge was strong, so Rose got out of bed and strode through her home wearing only her nightgown, flicking on all the lights as she went.
In the kitchen she switched on the radio, tuned it to one of the stations Callum liked and then pumped the volume up until the speakers vibrated against the stereo’s plastic casing. While in the kitchen Rose made herself a midnight snack of fried onions and chips. She scoffed it in double-quick time and didn’t bother cleaning up the mess.
With the music blaring in the background, Rose went into the living room and opened the top drawer of the sideboard. Inside were a number of items that had belonged to her late husband, including a cigar box. Rose opened the lid and drew out some matches and a long, fat cigar. She rolled the cigar around in her fingers. She had never smoked and previously thought it was a disgusting habit. Now she had an overwhelming urge to spark one up.
Rose walked through the house, opened the front door and stepped outside, leaving the door ajar. A heavy rock track spilled out into the night. She strode through her front garden and plopped down in an outdoor chair, pulling a second chair over to put her feet on. The metal of the chair legs screeched against the paving stones adding to the cacophony of sound.
Bedroom lights from nearby houses began to wink on as the tranquillity of the evening was violated.
Rose lit the cigar, exhaled a curtain of heavy smoke and reclined in the chair, completely oblivious to the muted complaints of her neighbours. She sighed happily and settled in for a night of obnoxious behaviour.
Jinx checked his watch for the thirteenth time. Sophie and Callum had been gone for one hour and twenty-seven minutes. He’d patrolled the perimeter six times, and so far all he’d seen were a rat and a very big spider (which bit him). He’d also been pooped on by a bird.
Jinx crawled from under the bush where he’d been hiding and ran to a tree closer to the hole Sophie had cut in the wire fence. The dog was still sleeping soundly. It gave the occasional woof in its sleep and its legs pumped comically as it dreamed about chasing cats. Jinx looked at his watch again and came to a decision. It was time Jinx Patterson joined the action.
Two bullets whistled over Callum’s and Sophie’s heads. The first smacked into Parson’s chest and the second caught Darryl in the left shoulder. A burst of red splashed into the air as both men were knocked off their feet. Parson fell hard onto his back, as if punched by an invisible fist, his gun spilling from his hand. Darryl twisted sideways as his balance deserted him. He landed on the floor, legs splayed beneath his body. Both lay still.
Sophie and Callum turned as one and watched in horror as a lean man stepped from the darkness of the room behind them. He was wearing jet black pyjamas and held a fat pistol loosely in his hand, the barrel still smoking.
His thin lips curled into a smile – not the welcoming kind of smile you’d get from a friend, but the grin a wolf gives its prey seconds before devouring it.
“Visitors. What a pleasant surprise. My name is Lester.” He waved at the bodies lying beyond the two children. “These are my associates, Darryl and Parson.”
Callum stared at the men on the floor. “Are they …”
“Dead?” finished Lester. “No, probably not. I shot them with reduced-velocity training ammunition. The bullets are filled with a water-soluble coloured marking compound. They pack a punch at close range but aren’t normally fatal.”
A groan from Parson confirmed Lester’s diagnosis.
Lester opened the chamber of his gun with a flick of his wrist and ejected the spent cartridges. They fell onto the floor with a dull clang. “The police and army use them to make indoor training exercises more realistic. I do the same, but sometimes I fire a little closer than recommended. It reminds my staff that I can’t abide disobedience.”
Lester held out the hand that wasn’t carrying the gun. It was clenched in an upturned fist. He opened his fingers and sitting in his palm were six copper-jacketed bullets. “These, however, are the real thing.” He fed the ammunition into the empty chambers of the pistol then flicked it shut. “So I suggest you do exactly what I tell you.”
Lester trained the gun on Sophie and Callum. Edging past them, he retrieved Parson’s pistol from the floor. He slid it into the waistband of his pyjama pants. “I don’t know how you found me or why you are here, but you’re going to regret trespassing on my property.”
Callum snapped at the man. “We know your thugs sucked the goodness out of my grandmother and that you’ve got it hidden here – and so do the police. So if you don’t give it back to me right now, you’ll be in big trouble.”
“My, my, you two are quite the detectives,” said Lester. “But if you had told the police, they’d already be here – either that or they didn’t believe you, which is much more likely. Who’s going to believe a couple of brats’ far-fetched stories about brain-sucking machines? I do wonder if you came here alone though. Tell me, can I expect to find any other little people ferreting about in my warehouse?”
Jinx was their only hope of rescue now. It was vital Callum protected his friend. “It’s just us,” lied Callum.
Lester looked at the boy long and hard then shifted his gaze to Sophie. “Is that right, young lady? Is it just you and the cripple?”
Sophie held his star
e, her voice ice-cold. “Yes, and he’s disabled, not crippled.”
“You’re a feisty young thing,” laughed Lester. “I like that. But I also think you and your disabled friend are not telling me the truth.”
Lester kicked Parson and Darryl hard in the legs. “Come on, you two. Get up. I’m not going to shoot you again. Well, probably not anyway.”
Parson let out another moan and pulled himself into a sitting position. He had a large splatter of red paint in the middle of his chest. Darryl rolled over and drew himself into a similar position, grimacing with every movement. Paint smeared his left side.
Parson coughed and shook his head, clearly disorientated. He spoke in a halting voice. “We’re real sorry, boss. We was gonna tell you about the kids but–”
“But what?” interrupted Lester. “You thought you’d leave them wandering around as witnesses? The reason I ask you to tell me everything is so we don’t end up with a situation like this.” Lester swung his gun and pointed it at Parson’s head. “Perhaps I will shoot you after all. Or should I just throw you both into the drain?”
Parson fired a look at the watercourse behind him and shuddered. “Please, boss, not that. We’ll do anything.” Darryl nodded in agreement. “Anything.” They were more frightened of the drain than the gun.
Callum couldn’t contain his curiosity. “What’s so scary about the drain?”
Lester kept the gun trained on his henchmen. “It’s not so much the drain, but where it leads. It empties straight into the aptly named Shark Bay. So even if they survived the churning waters of the culvert, it’s unlikely they’d last long against a hungry great white. Terrible way to go, all that thrashing, screaming and tearing. Mind you, bullets aren’t a barrel of laughs either.”
Lester pointed his gun directly at Sophie. “As you’ll soon discover, if you don’t take your hand out of there.”
While Lester was talking, Sophie had slowly moved her hand to her tool belt and was reaching for the concussion ball. A few more seconds and she would have had it.
Lester waved the gun in a circular motion, never taking his eyes off Sophie. “Take the belt off and throw it here.”
Sophie had no choice. She unbuckled her tool belt and tossed it to Lester. He ran an appreciative eye over the tools and weapons hanging from the belt. “Impressive,” he muttered.
Lester adjusted the tool belt and put it around his waist, then gave his attention to his henchmen. “I’m going to give you both one more chance. Go check the warehouse and the perimeter. If you find anyone snooping around, bring them to me.”
Relief flooded through Darryl and Parson. They got gingerly to their feet. “Yes, boss. Right away, boss,” said Parson. The two thugs hobbled towards the elevator.
Lester watched them leave and shook his head. “It’s hard to get good help.”
He returned to Callum and Sophie. He waved them into the dark room, then moved quickly in behind and switched on the light.
The room was sparsely furnished. It was dominated by a large bed, which would have dwarfed the man who slept in it. All his bed linen was black. Creepy.
A solid metal door stood beside the bed. It was controlled by an electronic keypad.
Lester herded them towards the door, excited. “Since you’ve made all this effort to find me, I’m going to show you something no one else has ever seen – my laboratory.”
Lester punched four numbers into the keypad. Five, three, seven, two. Callum watched carefully, committing the numbers to memory.
“There’s no point memorising my code; you’ll only ever be in this room once.” Lester smiled condescendingly at the boy.
The latch released with a slow whirr as three large metal rods retracted into the wall cavity. The door slid aside. The lighting in the room was dull. Patches of green light danced across the floors, walls and ceilings like blobs in a gigantic lava lamp. The air pulsed.
“Go in,” hissed Lester from behind Sophie and Callum.
They entered with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Callum gulped as he saw the wall tank filled with thousands of squirming, oozing blobs of goodness. His eyes met Sophie’s and they both gasped as they realised what they were looking at.
“Ugly little things, aren’t they?” sneered Lester.
Callum shook his head. “They’re beautiful.”
Sophie stood transfixed by the fluorescent blobs writhing in the aquarium. She moved closer to the glass and placed a hand against the tank. A shudder ran through her body as if she could feel the frustration of the creatures imprisoned within. “It hurts them to be separated from their owners; they’re suffering.”
“Rubbish,” scoffed Lester. “They’re just blobs of matter. They don’t have feelings, and even if they do, it’s of no consequence. They’re redundant anyway. Who cares about goodness any more?”
Callum rounded on Lester. “I do, and I won’t let you set off your bomb.”
Lester’s eyes narrowed. “How could you possibly …”
He wrenched open Sophie’s tool belt and rummaged around, withdrawing her phone. He clicked through the settings until he found the scanner and switched it on. The battery was running low and the signal was fading but clearly came from within the room. Lester spun around wildly, searching for the source. His eyes fell on the brain scanner case, and he strode over to it, running his hands over the aluminium body. Within seconds he had located Sophie’s bug. He examined it with a practised eye then, to Callum’s and Sophie’s surprise, burst out laughing.
“Tracking and audio. Genius!” He spoke to his captives. “I should offer you both jobs. You could be my apprentices in a brand-new world.” Lester’s eyes took on a fanatical glint as he spoke. “Think of it. I’m going to create a society not bound by manners, rules and other people’s opinions of what’s ‘right’. With no more goodness in the world we can do and say what we like – no restrictions, no boundaries, no judgement. I’m giving everyone their freedom. In years to come people will see me as a hero. And you could be by my side.”
Callum glared at the man. “No, thank you. We’ve seen what your world would be like. It’ll be full of people who don’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves. I’d rather die than be part of it.”
Lester sighed with disappointment. “I expected as much. You’re both too clogged up with morals and scruples to see my vision. Oh, well, your loss. So what shall I do with you now?”
“You can start by giving me my grandmother’s goodness back,” Callum said with soft menace.
Lester clapped his hands together. “What, and give up the pride of my collection? That’s not going to happen. I can show you it though – it’s quite impressive.”
Lester walked to his workbench, picked up the remote control and pushed a button. A large rocket rose from the bench. Encased in the body of the rocket was a clear perspex vacuum flask containing Rose’s golden goodness. Energy crackled around the edge of the globe. Callum noticed the rocket was plugged into the power supply.
“Behold, the world’s one and only bad bomb,” proclaimed Lester, theatrically. “It’ll be fully charged in a few hours.” Lester pointed to a cylindrical shaft that penetrated the ceiling of the laboratory and led outside. “Once it’s in the exit chute, its thrusters will fire and blast it into the Earth’s atmosphere, then the charge will detonate, and BAM, a world completely devoid of goodness.”
Callum pulled on the rims of his wheelchair and started towards the bench. Lester was on him with surprising speed. He grabbed the wheelchair and held Callum back, pressing the pistol into his ribs for emphasis. “Now, now,” he chided. “Let’s not do anything stupid.”
Callum wrestled against Lester’s grip but couldn’t break it. He twisted his body to face the man. “Let me go,” he spat.
Lester gave him a sad smile. “I don’t think so. I have plans for you and your friend.”
Callum tensed. “What are you going to do?’”
“Why, I’m going to use the brain sucker o
n you.” Lester looked at him, genuinely surprised. “What did you expect?”
Fifteen
Jinx crept quietly past the sleeping German shepherd. He wasn’t sure how long it would remain asleep, but he prayed it would be a few minutes more. As he drew level with the dog, it lifted its huge head, bared its fangs and let out a low, rumbling growl.
Just my luck, thought Jinx as he ran for it, sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him. The dog struggled to its feet, still woozy. It shook its head and its eyes cleared. Within seconds it had fully recovered, and it took off after Jinx, growling with indignation. Jinx could hear the dog’s snapping jaws just behind him, and he put on a final burst of speed then threw himself headfirst through the dog door. He rolled when he hit the ground and scrambled into the warehouse, slamming the door behind him.
Jinx bent over and sucked in a deep lungful of air, breathing hard. He straightened and looked directly into Parson’s grinning face. Darryl stood beside him. Before he could react, Parson grabbed him by the arm and shook him.
“Are there any others?” the man roared into his face.
Jinx said nothing. He struggled but couldn’t shift the man’s grip.
“Have a look outside,” Parson said to his companion, and the big man left. Jinx was roughly searched, and his mobile phone and paintball gun were taken.
Before long Darryl returned. “Better get him to the boss,” he grunted when he got back. Parson nodded and Jinx was flung over his shoulder like an old overcoat.
As they carried him through the warehouse, Jinx’s left thumb began to spasm. Suddenly, a stack of pallets on one of the shelves above them began to tremble. Jinx watched as the pallets juddered closer and closer to the edge of the shelf. He glanced at his captors to see if they’d noticed – they hadn’t. Jinx braced himself for impact as the pallets tumbled over the edge and hurtled towards them. The men caught sight of the falling pallets at the last second and reacted with speed. Parson threw the boy to the floor and raised his arms to protect himself. The pallets smashed into the men and all three bodies crashed to the ground, splintered planks littering the floor around them.