Sick Bastards
Page 15
I nodded.
“And in the meantime, look at the positives; we still have running water...”
PART EIGHTEEN
Now
Enough
“The water?”
The technician nodded.
“What was in it?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t know or you won’t tell me?”
“I don’t know. That wasn’t my area and the information isn’t kept on files here. They’re back at the main base.” He looked at me and must have known I wanted more information from him as he continued despite me not saying anything to him, “Whatever it was - it was put there, in small doses, to keep you from remembering what had happened. It was used as another way of controlling you. Your memories specifically. You stop taking it and - well - those memories might sneak back in bit by bit. The ones which weren’t damaged in the initial operations anyway.”
I suddenly felt a rage brew within me that I had never experienced before - not to this level anyway. Another side effect to having stopped drinking the laced water or a side effect to the shit I was hearing?
“Look...I’ve told you...I’ve told you everything I know. Please. Just let me go. I told you already, I wasn’t the one here pulling the strings. It wasn’t me. I just worked here...Look...Take these,” he said as he fished some keys from his pocket before throwing them to me. “My car is outside. Just take it. It’ll get you wherever you need to get. It’ll get you away from here...Please...Just let me go. This...This wasn’t me. I didn’t do this. I just work here.”
I looked at him, my eyes burning through his soul. Is this the look my father looked at me with on the occasions I crossed him? I shook my head. He’s not my father. He’s not. He never was and what he is now - it’s nothing to do with me. He isn’t my concern. Not anymore.
“That’s just as bad...” I told the man.
“I know. That’s why I set about sabotaging it. Don’t you see? I’m not just alive because I was hiding. I was the one who gave the prisoners the keys! It was me who set them free. I didn’t think they’d go and kill everyone. I thought they’d just take the time to run. I thought they’d run and not look back.”
The man was visibly quaking. And he should be. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew they were all in the wrong. What they were doing was criminal but they got away with it because they hid behind government badges. I didn’t feel sympathy for him, because some of his friends were murdered. I felt nothing. As far as I was concerned, he had got what he deserved. Well...Nearly got what he deserved. And I didn’t even want to know why there were prisoners here. Political prisoners? Maybe. Used as more tests no doubt.
“Some of them went over the wall whilst others were going on a rampage through the cabins...I hid. I don’t know if they knew I was there and spared me because I did them a favour, by breaking them out, or whether...”
I reached forward and grabbed the technician’s head with both hands. I’d had enough of his voice, his stories, his bullshit. The rage, burning within, was spewing from every pore and I couldn’t control it anymore. I didn’t want to control it either. The man screamed and reached up to grab my arms. He tried to pull them away but my grip was good and my mind made up. I pressed my thumbs against his eyes, which he had shut. His name badge bounced around, where it hung on his chest, as we struggled in the cabin.
Michael Bray.
Michael Bray.
Michael Bray.
Fuck you.
I dug my nails in and pushed my thumbs through his eyeballs. His scream reached a pitch I had never heard before, not even from the people on our dining room table. I screamed too. Not from horror but from pleasure. A weird feeling of sick satisfaction washing through me. I pushed in further and his screams suddenly stopped. His arms dropped to his sides where they swung lifelessly. I waited for a couple of minutes, relishing the feeling of my thumbs being embedded in the man’s brains, and then withdrew. I let go of his body and he dropped to the floor with a satisfying slump.
I looked down to my hands. Both of them were covered in blood. My thumbs were the worst: blood, dark clotted gore and brains. I gave them a lick clean and remembered back to what my father had said back in the house, during one of our many meal times.
“Can you feel that?” he had asked, between sucking on a piece of flesh. “I can feel the man’s strength surging through me...Can anyone else feel that?” He had even started laughing.
At the time I just thought he was crazy but now - now I know he wasn’t. I can feel it. I can feel the man’s strength surging through my veins. I dropped to my knees, over the body, and sunk my teeth into the technician’s throat. A quick turn of my neck and I tore a massive chunk from his still warm body. The taste hit me hard as I started to chew. The best piece of blue steak you had ever tried as I slowly rolled it around my mouth letting it hit every taste bud possible. I didn’t feel guilty as I swallowed it down and bit down on the corpse for another taste. He had it coming. He created me. He created my family. If the other lab geeks were alive, I’d do the same to them too. I’d put them on the dining room table for Mother, Father and Sister. I’d talk and joke with my family as we’d listen to the soundtrack of the screams coming from the meat. I’d chink glasses of the laced-water to keep the memories of what happened at bay and I’d be grateful for what I had.
The next chunk of flesh came from his cheek where it was easier to bite it off. As I looked down upon his body I could only wish he was still alive to feel the sensation of me eating his face. To feel what he had created. To feel the teeth of the monster tear into him piece by piece until there’d be no more flesh to consume.
Another mouthful swallowed and another taken as I kept telling myself, He had this coming. More memories of how it came to be - the situation we found ourselves in - flooded through the pain of my headache to slowly, bit by bit, reveal themselves.
PART EIGHTEEN
Before
Interviews
The lady sitting opposite me was pretty. Of course I had noticed when she first walked into the office but there was time now to sit back and admire her - really admire her - now that we had got the numerous questions and paperwork out of the way.
She looked around my age (thirties). Dark hair down to her waist - tied back in a pony-tail -, glasses which made her look both cute and intelligent (not that she needed glasses to prove her obvious intelligence).
I smiled at her but she didn’t notice, or she chose to ignore it. Ever the professional.
“That about wraps things up.”
She put the last paper of the questionnaire back into the folder she had originally carried it into the room with and clipped the pen onto the pocket of her long white coat.
“So...Am I a suitable candidate for the scheme?” I asked.
The lady smiled at me.
“We’ll have a discussion and let you know,” she said as she stood up.
“Oh - right - well...You have my home number and my mobile but it’s probably best you use my mobile. That’s always on me. And, you know, sometimes I unplug my home phone. Too many cold callers keep managing to get through to me. Honestly, you sign up to have your number ex-directory and they still manage to get your details...”
The woman interrupted me, “You don’t have to leave. We should have an answer for you within the next couple of hours. There’s a waiting room down the corridor. I’ll take you there now.”
“Oh, right, okay. Good. I mean. Yes. Thank you.”
I stood up too and followed as the pretty lady led me down a long corridor aligned with many doors. I could see other people, through small windows in the doors, being interviewed for - I guess - the same scheme I am applying for. So many applicants but then I suppose that’s to be expected with the money they’re offering for the people who successfully complete it.
The lady stopped by a door and opened it for me. She didn’t walk into the room. She kept the door open and urged me to go through.
I nodded and walked into the fair-sized room.
There were three other people waiting; an older couple and a girl who appeared to be in her teens, maybe early twenties. The door closed behind me and the happy-looking threesome turned to see me.
“Ooh, here’s another one,” the man said. “Come on in and take a seat.”
I walked over with a shy “Hello” and took a seat at the table they were sitting on. At the far side of the room was a series of tables linked together and covered in a white drape. These tables were covered with various plates of sandwiches and other types of ‘finger-food’ like cocktail sausages, sausage rolls, crisps, peanuts and anything you could imagine.
“I’m Brian, this is Kelly and...” he turned to the younger of the two ladies, “...I’m sorry...I’ve forgotten your name again.” He laughed. “I told you I was bad with names.”
“Carmen.”
“And this is Carmen...”
“John,” I said as I took a seat. “So you’re all here for the advert? The government research programme?” They nodded. “I don’t suppose they’ve told you what is actually involved?”
“They won’t say,” said Carmen as she took a piece of tomato from her sandwich and rested it to the side of the paper plate she had earlier filled with snacks, “apparently it’s top secret and we only get to know if they choose us.”
“I hope they do choose us - that money would come in handy that’s for sure,” said Carmen.
I smiled at her and she coyly smiled back. Another pretty girl.
“So how long have you been waiting?” I asked.
“Two hours.”
“One and a half.”
“I walked in about ten minutes before you did,” said Carmen.
As conversation kind of dried up a little, I cast my eyes around the room and noticed a camera attached to the ceiling in the corner; a red flashing light hinting that it was in use.
“I think we’re being watched,” I told the others.
They turned around and saw the camera.
“Probably making sure we aren’t talking about the tests we’ve been doing,” Brian said as he turned back round to face me. The others turned away from the camera too. “If you feel uncomfortable with that, you’re probably in the wrong place. You can rest assured that, whatever the programme will be, there will be cameras aplenty to track our progress and make sure we’re playing by their rules.”
The others murmured noises of agreement. I didn’t. I knew they had filmed me for some of the interviews that I had gone through during the first part of the day but I didn’t feel particularly comfortable with it. I just envisioned the footage ending up on some dire television show filled with idiots making fools of themselves as they begged their way onto whatever they were applying for. Paranoid, I guess.
* * * * *
I’m not sure how long we had been sitting in the room as I didn’t have a watch and I didn’t want to keep bothering the others for the time. The pretty lady who led me here did tell me they’d be as quick as they could. Maybe patience is one of the virtues they’re looking for in their candidates?
I had spent some of the time waiting talking to the other people in the room but it came to a stage where conversation dried up between us and I found myself sitting in the corner with a plate of food on my lap, staring out of the window whilst imagining what I could spend that money on. I’d start by clearing my debts. They weren’t substantial but they were enough to be a nuisance each month, especially with the low-income from my dead-end job. Should have spent more time in class and less time bunking with my friends, who have since deserted me and also managed to get themselves decent employment with decent wages.
The door suddenly opened and the pretty lady walked in. She was followed by several large men. Whereas she was wearing the same lab coat I had earlier seen her in, these men were wearing black uniforms and looked entirely out of place.
We all stayed in our seats as the woman went to the front of the room, next to a table. She put a file (which she had carried in, under her arm) onto the table next to her. I set aside the plate of food, on the table next to where I was sitting, and braced myself for the news she was about to deliver.
“We’re sorry for keeping you waiting,” she addressed the group, “but I’m pleased to inform you that you’re all eligible to become part of the programme.”
The group seemed happy with the news. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t a weight off my shoulders too. My debt was cleared. Chances are, the rest of the money would keep me from having to go back to that dead-end job too. Not forever. Certainly a little while at least and that was good enough for me.
“So when we do we start?” asked Brian.
“We shall begin the process immediately.”
“Do we get to know what we’ve signed up for now?” Kelly laughed.
The pretty lady stood up and pulled some paperwork from the file that she had brought in with her. Four people, four sheets. She walked around the room handing them to each of us, along with some pens.
“As soon as you’ve signed these.”
“What are they?” Brian asked. I couldn’t help but snigger to myself. He had asked yet I had already signed.
“Non-disclosure policy. Standard stuff.”
The man seemed happy with that and signed his life away.
“So what now?” he asked as one of the men in black went back around the group collecting the signed documents.
“Now we need to separate you. Mr Bigelow, you will go with these two gentlemen,” she said as she pointed to two of the men in uniform. “Miss Reyes, you will go with these two gentlemen,” she pointed to another two men. “Ms Dethlefs, you are with these two and, Mr Burley, you’re with me and this gentleman here.” She nodded towards the man who had handed her back the paperwork. “Has everyone had enough to eat? It’s going to be a long day.”
Now
No Way Back
I stumbled from the cabin, leaving the corpse of Michael Bray behind in a bloodied pool, and dropped to my knees outside as the door swung shut behind me. I bent over with my hands to my head as though they had the power to take away, or ease, my headache. My broken mind was torn between playing back previously lost memories of what happened back in the offices - with the government officials - and thoughts of fucking my sister (not my sister!) and mother (not my mother!) and what I did to that man who I had taken back to the house. He wasn’t a looter. He was just someone like me. A prisoner. Forced to be a part of this. Was he one of the ones they had put in here - just to see what happened - or was he one of the men who’d escaped only to then be killed by myself? I screamed as the thoughts continued to muddle themselves in my head.
I can’t blame myself. I can’t. This isn’t my doing. This isn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t.
Yes you did, though, you signed up for it.
I didn’t know. There was no way of knowing.
Just your stupid greed...
Had I known what was going to become of us, I would never have gone ahead with it.
My mind flashed thoughts of being secured against my will on an operating table. I was struggling but the restraints kept me in place. Even if they hadn’t, the hands of two strangers made sure I went nowhere. I was screaming then too. Screaming for them to get off me but they didn’t listen. They just stuck me with that needle and everything went dark. My mind flashed back images of eating my sister’s moist cunt (not my sister!) and my mother riding my face (not my mother!)
I threw up onto the muddy floor. Because of the meat I had consumed, so greedily, or because of the pain in my head and the flooding of my thoughts.
The water will make the thoughts go again. Maybe.
I looked up and around.
The wall was to my right and an unknown horizon on my left. I struggled to my feet, using the wall of the cabin as a much needed support. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know in which direction to turn. It wouldn’t be long before the people who really run this place - not the ones who just work here - would realise something had happened and they’d come looking. What would they do when they get here? Terminate the programme or enlist new staff to keep an eye on the proceedings? If I run - would they leave me out there, this sick bastard they created, or would they come for me? Snatch me away from my real family, who I still can’t remember, and run more tests on me? I felt another bubbling in my stomach.