by Ryan Casey
“Hope you’re not getting too cosy in here,” he said, stepping inside, the armed guards swarming the cabin.
He made eye contact with James.
“Don’t use up all your energy,” he said, as guards swarmed the cabin and pulled the prisoners free of their cuffs. “We’ve reached a decision on your punishment.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
JORDANNA
Jordanna looked down at the pit in front of her and a part of her wished she’d stayed inside the ventilation shaft.
The clouds were thickening as afternoon morphed to evening. The rain was falling heavier. They were just inside the BLZ, just by the gates in an area clearly cordoned off for special occasions. At least, special occasions of Mr Fletch’s interests.
Below Jordanna, below the rest of the group, there was a wide circular crater in the concrete. Like a sinkhole, but clearly manmade.
The group stood on the side of it. Handcuffs wrapped around their wrists. Cuffs on their ankles now too. There was a long metal water duct right across the crater—a metal duct that looked exceptionally slippery in the downpour of rain.
Further below the duct there was a massive blue plastic sheet. A curtain hiding secrets below.
There was movement underneath that sheet.
Movement. Noise.
Groans.
Jordanna didn’t have to see what was under that plastic sheet to know. She’d heard those groans enough in her time surviving outside. The smell, too. Such a strong stench of rot that Jordanna could taste it.
She’d tasted it so many times before. So many times in so many close calls with them.
Creatures.
“Seeing as you appear so eager to get out of this place, we figured we’d give you an opportunity,” Mr Fletch said. He was standing to the right of the crater, shrewd smile on his face. Behind him, several of his guards, all pointing their guns at Jordanna, James, the rest of the group.
More guards with guns pointed behind Jordanna, behind them all.
“I gave you an opportunity,” Mr Fletch continued, rain falling down heavier. “An opportunity to be a part of something. Something truly special. And you disrespected me. No—no, worse than that. You destroyed my prototypes.”
A flicker of anger replaced the pride on his face. A minuscule shift in his eyes, but it was there for everyone to see.
“But never mind. Every worker faces a setback from time to time. All part of the growth process.”
“You’re fucking sick,” Jordanna muttered.
“What? What was that, Miss?”
Jordanna thought about speaking back. But she felt the barrel of the gun push into her spine. So hard that she edged closer to the side of the crater, stones crumbling beneath her feet, down onto the blue plastic sheet.
“No. I didn’t think so either,” Mr Fletch said, adjusting his tie, the smile returning to his face. “I’m not a monster, like many of you seem to have judged me.”
“Proof’s in the pudding,” James mumbled.
“But I’m not a soft man. I’m not a weak man. I’m not afraid to discipline and punish those who stand against what’s right for this world.”
“And ’ow the fuck would you know what’s right for this world?” shouted the bald, bearded guy who’d been tied up with them in the cabin.
Mr Fletch diverted his attention to this man. “Did you say something?”
“Yeah,” the man said. “Yeah I fuckin’ did. You come out into the wild pretendin’ you know what’s right for everyone. You don’t know jack shit, man. You ain’t been out there. You ain’t survived out there. All you’ve done is caused more shit. More death. You ain’t no different to the bandits on the road. Ain’t no fuckin’ different to the zombies, fuck.”
He worked up some phlegm and spat down onto the ground.
Mr Fletch stared back at him. Rain came down heavily now, the clouds so thick that it felt like nighttime. Jordanna couldn’t read Mr Fletch’s face. She couldn’t understand his emotion. Fuck—she couldn’t even figure out how she’d ended up here, ended up in so much shit.
Riley, gone.
Everything gone.
“Guards, would you like to take Mr Smith for a walk?” Mr Fletch asked.
Two of the guards walked over to Mr Smith—the bald guy—and grabbed him by the tops of his arms. He tried to struggle free, thought against it when he nearly tumbled down into the crater below.
“Don’t know jack fuckin’ shit about what’s right for me!” Mr Smith shouted as the guards pulled him over to the start of the metal pipe. “Don’t know shit about what’s right for anyone!”
The guards pushed him onto his knees.
He landed right at the start of the pipe.
“Walk,” the guard on the left said.
It was at that point that Jordanna truly understood what was happening here. That she truly understood the nature of their disciplining, their punishment.
Mr Smith raised his head. Looked at the pipe. Looked at the rain splashing off it, pouring down it, landing on the blue sheet below.
The blue sheet that was moving.
That creatures were scrapping beneath, sensing a nearby kill.
“Ain’t no chance I’m—”
The guard on the right booted Mr Smith in his back. Pointed the gun to his head. “Walk!”
Mr Smith gasped, winded and sore. He struggled to get a grip on the pipe. Sat on his knees and his hands and tried to balance himself, steady himself. Looked over at the other side. Only ten metres away. Not so far. Not far at all.
But the furthest distance imaginable when he knew what awaited the slightest slip.
Mr Smith muttered a few things that sounded like prayers.
And then he started to crawl.
The guard on the left lunged his rifle at Mr Smith’s legs, kicked him hard. “Not crawl. Walk.”
Mr Smith looked over at Mr Fletch. “Can’t be fuckin—”
“They said walk, I said walk,” Mr Fletch said, as calm and composed as ever. “So you’d better walk.”
Mr Smith cursed under his breath some more. Beside her, Jordanna heard Tamara muttering. Muttering in fear. Muttering in realisation that this was it. This was where it ended.
Mr Smith took a few deep breaths. The blue sheet wavered some more, minuscule tears appearing in it.
“Walk, or fly,” Mr Fletch said. “It’s your choice.”
Mr Smith stared down below. Amongst the raindrops, Jordanna swore she saw tears falling down his hardened, weathered cheeks.
“Come on,” she whispered to herself. “We can do this.”
She watched as Mr Smith let his hands free of the pipe. Then planted them right back down, struggling to balance. He took a few shaky breaths. Muttered under his breath. “Shit. Shit.”
“Hurry up, please,” Mr Fletch said. “We’ve a lot to get through and I’d rather get this done with before dark.”
Mr Smith took some deep breaths. Rain fell down heavier. Groans and gasps got noisier below him.
Come on. You can do this. Please.
Then he took a final breath and stood up.
He did it all in one. All in one swift, steady move.
And for a moment, as he stood there all balanced and poised, Jordanna thought he had this. And for that reason, she thought maybe they all had this. They could do this. They could walk the pipe and get the fuck out of this place.
Then Mr Smith slipped.
He fell onto his right side.
Slid down the left.
Reached out for the pipe with flailing, cuffed hands as he tumbled below.
Screaming.
Falling.
Gone.
He landed on top of the blue sheet. Stared up at Jordanna with fear. With horror. With realisation.
And even then, Jordanna thought maybe he could still make it out of this place. Maybe he could just stand up, do a runner, get the hell out of here.
Then she saw the blood spurt out of his shoulder.
&nbs
p; The hands split through the blue plastic sheet.
Mr Smith screamed.
Jordanna stared on as decaying hands clutched at his chest, stuck between his ribs, grabbed his belly button and pulled, pulled and pulled while he screamed and cried.
Pulled until his chest split open.
Until his intestines slurped out of his belly.
Still screaming as hungry teeth bit through the plastic, bit through his skin, bit through his flesh.
He was still screaming when the mass of creatures pulled him down to the ground.
Still screaming for what felt like minutes as they tore him to shreds, his blood and flesh splattering up onto the blue plastic sheet.
Still screaming when they bit down on his head, on his skull.
Tearing.
Pulling.
Feasting.
When he finally stopped screaming, Jordanna felt completely cold. Her legs were weak. The raindrops felt icy as they tumbled down heavier than before, the pipe getting slipperier, the death trap growing more impossible to cross.
“Come on then. Better get on to the next one. Guards.”
Jordanna was still in a trance when she felt the guns press against her back.
When she felt the hands grab her shoulders, push her towards the pipe.
When they pressed her onto her knees in front of it, made her look down at the hellish drop below.
“Walk,” Mr Fletch said.
CHAPTER NINE
Jordanna knew there had to be a way out of this situation. She knew there had to be another twist of fate. Another strike of luck. Something—anything.
But when the barrel of the rifle cracked into her back, forced her further towards the edge of the metal pipe, she knew her luck was over.
“Walk!” the guard behind her shouted. He went to boot her again but this time she stepped forward, stepped onto the slippery metal of the water pipe. She knew she shouldn’t look down. Knew it was stupid staring down at the rain-drenched feast below, as the clouds suppressed more and more light, the brewing storm intensifying.
She knew she should just block out the sounds of Mr Smith’s flesh being ripped to shreds.
Of his innards spilling out of his body.
Of his bones being crushed under hungry teeth.
But, well, yeah. She couldn’t. Not in a million fucking years.
She felt a boot against her back again. Tasted metal as it kicked her some more; knocked the wind out of her body. Her hands were shaky, her feet even shakier.
She tried to breathe to calm herself as she stared down at the dead eyes of the creatures below but she was winded, and the smell of their decaying flesh knocked her sick. Some of the creatures were missing arms where they’d ripped away from their handcuffs, others were nothing more than flailing torsos, flapping around and snapping their teeth like piranhas in a feeding frenzy.
“We’ve got more people to get through, Jordanna,” Mr Fletch called. “Better get a move on.”
Jordanna looked ahead at the pipe. Really, the walk wasn’t so far. Ten metres, a little more. Just a few strides. A matter of seconds.
But it was slippery. She’d seen what had happened to Mr Smith the moment he stood up. Went flying to his right, tumbled down to the monsters below.
Didn’t help that cuffs were wrapped around her wrists, around her ankles.
She turned. Looked over at the guards behind Mr Fletch. All of them looking her way, even if some of them were still pointing their weapons in her group’s direction. “How can you fucking stand by and watch?” she screamed.
They looked back at her. Some of them with guilt. Others with fear.
“How the fuck can you just stand by and let this fucking happen?”
Her hopes of rallying the troops against their leader were quashed.
They looked at her with guilt, looked with fear, but look was all they did.
Metal clanging behind her. “Come on, bitch. Get a fucking move on.”
Jordanna shifted forward, away from the guard’s grip. Part of her wanted to just shimmy along, take her chances. But she knew they’d just shoot her. And anyway, what of it if she did get to the other side? Would they really just let her go willingly? No. Course not. That was the thing about this trap. She wasn’t supposed to escape it. It was a part of her punishment. A teasing torturous prelude to the final act.
A performance that she had to play her part in.
Which dead-eyed guards stood and watched.
She looked back at her group. At the defeat in Andy’s eyes, the tears in Tamara’s eyes. But it was Chloë’s eyes that got to her most. That little girl who’d been through so much. Sure, she’d done so many bad things—more bad things than many would forgive her for. But she was different to the rest of them because she was developing in this new world. So who could blame her for the atrocities she’d committed? Who could chastise her for the darkness that surrounded her?
“You be brave, Chlo,” Jordanna said. Her voice was quiet, battered away by the wind and the rain. But the way Chloë looked back at her told Jordanna she’d heard her. That she’d understood.
That she was trying to be brave.
Trying her damnedest.
Just like she’d been trying all along.
Jordanna turned. Looked at the pipe ahead. Looked at the water pooling over it, hitting the creatures below. Some of the creatures were still feeding on Mr Smith’s body, but others were gathered underneath her now, waiting for the moment, waiting for her to fall. There was a basic intelligence about them. Like that of a group of sheep. They understood what food was. They understood where it was coming from.
So they just stood around and waited.
Followed one another, and waited.
Guns reloading. “Better fucking get a move—”
“I’m going,” Jordanna said, the words coming out more defiant than even she’d intended. “I’m … I’m going.”
She looked at the pipe in front of her.
Didn’t look too far ahead.
Didn’t look too far below.
She just had to focus on the next step.
And the next.
And the next.
Ignore the bloodbath below.
Ignore the groans and the gasps, the clicking of chipped, hungry teeth.
Just focus.
Don’t think about the future.
Don’t think about the “what ifs?”
Just walk.
The first little step she took with her restrained legs was even harder than she imagined. The tight cuffs around her ankles were bad enough. But it was the ones around her wrists that were worse. She couldn’t reach out. Couldn’t stretch her arms out to balance.
Deep breaths.
Focus on the next step.
Walk …
She took another step. Wobbled a little to the left, then back to the right. A blast of wind hit her, covered her in thick clumps of rain. And at that point, she was convinced it was over, convinced she was about to fall.
The wind dropped.
The rain eased.
She was still standing.
Her heart pounding through her chest, she looked down at her next step. Needed to stay focused on the next step. Couldn’t even think about the end, even if it was just nine metres away and not ten anymore … No! Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
She took another deep breath and made another step.
Wobbled to her right.
Gasps and groans and blood-soaked teeth snapping below.
Arms stretching so far that they were on the verge of splitting away.
The collective gasp from the crowd as she wobbled to the left, then to the right again, then …
Another deep breath.
Stay focused.
Still.
She swallowed a lump in her dry throat and couldn’t help herself looking up. Couldn’t help lifting her head, seeing the end point. And she felt the adrenaline kick through her body. She could do thi
s. It was within reach. And if everyone stayed as calm as her, they could do it too.
She didn’t have to die. She could survive this. She could—
She heard the blast from her left, heard the shouts from her right and from behind.
She didn’t see what caused them.
Because all she was aware of was her feet slipping away from the pipe.
Her right side colliding with the metal.
And then her body tumbling towards the ferocious creatures below …
CHAPTER TEN
RILEY
It only took a second after Riley opening fire on the BLZ guards for things to go to shit.
He’d stood at the side of this pit of torture and he’d watched what they were doing to Jordanna. Forcing her to walk along a water pipe in the torrential rain. Cross over it without slipping. Pointing their guns at her and making sure she walked—making sure all of them walked.
And then Doctor Ottoman—the man who’d saved him from the Orion back in the Labyrinth—had told him to open fire.
He did.
Their bullets whooshed past Jordanna, over the metal pipe.
Right at Mr Fletch and his group.
But Jordanna slipped.
And now she was clinging to the water pipe, digging her fingernails into the metal as creatures below gathered around her like sharks surrounding a kill.
Riley heard the panic amongst the BLZ guards, amongst those standing behind Mr Fletch, and amongst his own group.
He saw the fear in their eyes. Their distinctly normal, human eyes.
But now wasn’t the time for pity.
Now wasn’t the time for sympathy.
Now was the time to get his friends the fuck away from this hellhole.
He moved over the side of the wall and kept on firing at the guards closest to him. Smacked one in the back of his head, sent him face flat onto the concrete.
Another in his ankle, knocking him down into the pit, his leg snapping in two as he hit the ground, screaming in agony as the creatures swarmed his flailing body.
“Over this way!” Riley shouted. He knew he didn’t have much time. He knew this was a suicide mission. He could feel bullets whizzing past his head and he knew it’d only be a moment before one of them hit him; before one of them hit his friends.