Darkest Night

by Will Hill

  “Are you OK?” he mouthed.

  The woman smiled, and gave him a thumbs up with her free hand.

  “I’ll come back later,” he whispered. “When they’re awake.”

  She nodded, and returned her attention to the sleeping baby. Jamie watched them for a moment, then walked on down the corridor, feeling pretty pleased with himself. His squad had safely extracted the family of vampires from a chaotic situation, and had managed to do so without any loss of life; he had woken to a message on his console informing him that the man Ellison shot would survive. All in all, it had been a pretty satisfactory night.

  Jamie stopped outside the last cell on the left and looked through the purple barrier. When he didn’t see his mother, his first thought, strangely, was that she must be hiding, so he crouched down to look under the bed, feeling slightly silly as he did so.

  Nothing.

  He frowned. His mother occasionally left her cell for medical and physical tests, but she hadn’t mentioned anything about a new round having been scheduled.

  Although, whispered a voice in the back of his head, you didn’t exactly part on good terms yesterday. Maybe she didn’t feel like telling you.

  Jamie grimaced with guilt. He had not come down to the cellblock to apologise to his mother, as he didn’t think he needed to be sorry for not automatically agreeing with her views on a potential cure, but had done so with the genuine desire to put things right between them. He didn’t like arguing with his mum, and he hated the thought of her worrying about whether or not he was angry with her.

  For long moments, Jamie stared into the empty cell. Then he turned on his heels and headed back along the corridor, far quicker than he had come. He stopped outside Valentin’s cell; the youngest Rusmanov was in his usual position on his sofa, one ankle resting on the other knee, a newspaper open in his hands. It hid his face, but Jamie knew the ancient vampire would be entirely aware of his presence.

  “Valentin?” he said.

  The seated figure didn’t move a muscle.

  “Valentin?” he repeated, increasing his volume. “Don’t ignore me.”

  The newspaper was lowered, and the vampire smiled at him with eyes that flickered red, sending a shiver up Jamie’s spine.

  “I wasn’t ignoring you, Mr Carpenter,” said Valentin. “I was attempting to decide whether I could be bothered to spend my precious time talking to you. I suggest you make this quick, while my decision remains unmade.”

  “Fine,” said Jamie. He allowed heat to rise into the corners of his own eyes, hoping to show Valentin that he wasn’t scared of him. “My mother isn’t in her cell. Did you see her leave?”

  “And what if I did?” asked the vampire.

  “I hope you would tell me.”

  “Really?” asked Valentin. “Why would you hope that? Because you and I are such good friends, who converse with each other and confide in each other and keep no secrets from each other? Or because you are an Operator of Blacklight, and I am a prisoner who should do as he is told?”

  “Whichever you prefer,” said Jamie.

  “I prefer neither,” said Valentin. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No,” growled Jamie. “There’s nothing else.” He backed away from the purple barrier, determined not to lose his temper and give the old vampire what he wanted, and headed for the airlock.

  “You know,” called Valentin, “I did see something last night that might be of interest to you. How silly of me to have forgotten.”

  Jamie turned and stared at the vampire. “Are you going to tell me what it was?”

  “Of course,” said Valentin, and smiled. “I’m not a monster, Mr Carpenter. As it transpires, I do remember seeing your mother last night.”

  Jamie’s heart accelerated. “Where did you see her?”

  “Right where you’re standing now,” said Valentin. “She walked past, accompanied by two of your colleagues. It was around ten thirty, maybe eleven o’clock, if I had to guess. And I haven’t seen her since.”

  “Are you telling me the truth?” asked Jamie.

  The vampire shrugged. “If you don’t believe me, I see little point in trying to convince you. Have a lovely day, Mr Carpenter.”

  Valentin raised his newspaper again. Jamie stood frozen to the spot, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

  Maybe there was some kind of problem, he thought. Maybe she needed to talk to the Director, or ask him something. Maybe—

  His heart stopped in his chest.

  No. They wouldn’t. Surely they wouldn’t do that to her.

  The thought, sudden and terrible and all too plausible, charged his limbs with life. He flew along the corridor, dropped to the ground outside the cellblock guard post, and knocked on its thick plastic window. The Duty Operator jumped and spun round, a look of shock in her wide eyes.

  “Lieutenant Carpenter,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear—”

  “Was my mother taken off the block last night?” he interrupted.

  The Operator frowned. “I wasn’t on duty last night,” she said. “I can check the log—”

  “Do it,” growled Jamie, and felt heat flicker behind his eyes. “Quickly.”

  The Operator swallowed; she looked very pale as her fingers tapped her keyboard. A voice in the back of Jamie’s head was yelling at him, reminding him that whatever had happened was not her fault, but he barely heard it; his mind was full of a possibility so awful that he could barely contemplate it.

  “Ten fifty-two last night,” said the Operator, looking up from her screen. “Marie Carpenter escorted off block by Captain Williams and Lieutenant Browning. No absence parameters.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” asked Jamie.

  “It means they didn’t list a time for when she’s expected back, sir.”

  He stared at the Duty Operator, but he was no longer really looking at her, or anything else; the names she read out had hit him like a punch to the stomach.

  Captain Williams and Lieutenant Browning. Jack and Matt.

  My friends.

  Everybody in the laboratory jumped when somebody hammered on its metal door.

  It was a phenomenally rare occurrence; the Lazarus Project was off-limits to all but the most senior members of the Department, and unauthorised visitors were prohibited, especially now. But the noise that was echoing through the cavernous room was loud and relentless; it sounded like someone was very determined to gain entry to the lab.

  “Matt?” asked Natalia. Her voice was low and tight, and she was looking over at him with wide eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” he replied. He had spun his chair round and was staring at the door. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

  “What is going on out there?” asked Professor Karlsson. “Somebody check the cameras.”

  Matt sighed deeply and typed rapidly on his keyboard, his head thudding with stress and tiredness; he had been working all night, ever since Marie Carpenter had been taken to the infirmary, and he doubted that he was going to see the inside of his quarters any time soon. The modifications to the sealed rooms were now complete, the next three test subjects would be arriving in half an hour, and the pressure inside the Lazarus Project, which was crushing at the best of times, was only going to increase as the trial progressed.

  The security grid appeared on his screen, and he opened the live feed from the corridor. It showed an Operator pounding on the metal door, their fists little more than a blur. Matt stared, concern twisting in his stomach, until the figure raised its head and looked directly into the camera with eyes full of dark red light.

  “It’s Jamie,” he said. “What the hell is he playing at?”

  “Are you expecting him?” asked Karlsson.

  “No, sir,” he said. “I don’t know why he’s out there.”

  “Should we let him in?” asked Natalia, her voice low.

  “He’s Zero Hour cleared,” said Matt. “If we want to let him in, we can.”

&nb
sp; “He looks angry,” said Natalia.

  “He rarely doesn’t,” said Matt.

  “I’m calling Security,” said Karlsson. “This is completely inappropriate.”

  That might not be a bad idea, thought Matt, as the hammering intensified. By the sound of things.

  “He can pull that door off its hinges if he decides to,” he said. “I think I should talk to him.”

  “Be careful,” said Natalia, and gave him a look of clear warning. “I do not like this at all.”

  Matt forced a smile. “It’s OK,” he said. “He’s my friend.”

  He got up from his desk and walked towards the door. Behind him, Professor Karlsson was on his phone, asking the Security Division to urgently send a team down to assist them; Matt tried to ignore what that would mean, and pulled his ID card from his pocket. He raised it towards the control panel on the wall, hesitated for a split second, then took a deep breath and pressed his card against it. Machinery rumbled into life as a series of locks disengaged and rolled back. Matt reached for the handle, but before his fingers could close round it, the door crashed open and a blur of black and red exploded through it.

  “Where is she?” demanded Jamie, his eyes blazing as he seized Matt by the throat. “Where’s my mother? What the hell have you done with her?”

  Matt’s eyes bulged. Fingers constricted his throat as he felt himself lifted off the ground. He heard Natalia scream, heard shouted protests as his colleagues scrambled out of their seats and away from what was happening.

  “What …” he croaked. “I don’t … what?”

  Glowing red eyes stared into his; fury was boiling out of his friend in an almost visible cloud. “You and Jack took her out of her cell last night,” growled Jamie. “Where is she? Tell me right now.”

  “Jamie … she’s in the infirmary … please, Jamie.”

  The grip on his neck tightened as he was jerked upwards and slammed into the ceiling. A bolt of pain raced through his head, and he saw stars.

  “You couldn’t wait?” shouted Jamie. “You couldn’t wait eight hours for me to bring you vamps to do your tests on? You had to use my mother?”

  In that moment, despite the dizziness swirling through him, Matt understood what his friend thought had happened, and real fear exploded through him; if he didn’t make Jamie understand that he was wrong, and quickly, there was every chance that this ended with him being badly hurt.

  Or worse, he thought.

  “Jamie …” he gasped. “I didn’t … we didn’t. She volunteered … I promise you, Jamie … she volunteered. Please …”

  A frown creased his friend’s face, and Matt felt the grip on his throat loosen, ever so slightly. He sucked in a desperate, pressure-easing breath and looked down. Most of the Lazarus Project were huddled with Professor Karlsson at the far end of the room, their faces pale with terror, but Natalia was standing directly beneath him, her eyes fixed firmly on his own.

  “She volunteered?” said Jamie. His voice had dropped, and the fire in his eyes had lost some of its fervour. “How?”

  “She asked to see the Director,” whispered Matt. “She asked him if you were right, if there really was a cure, because she wanted it if there was. The Director told her that we were just getting ready to begin testing it, and she volunteered. Turner gave her a release form and told her to think about it. She said she didn’t need to, but Turner insisted. He sent Jack and me down an hour later to ask if she was still sure. She said she was, Jamie. She said she was sure. What was I supposed to do?”

  Jamie’s expression changed, his rage transforming before Matt’s eyes into something that looked a lot like shame. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have known you would never hurt her.”

  “It’s OK,” he said. “Honestly. Just put me down, all right?”

  Jamie looked down. His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t realised that they were nearer to the ceiling than the floor, and he immediately descended. Matt took a quick step backwards when their feet touched the ground and his friend let go of his neck, as Natalia appeared beside him and took hold of his hand; she was trembling with anger.

  “How dare you?” she hissed. “What is wrong with you?”

  Jamie winced. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really—”

  The door swung open again and banged against the wall as the Security Division squad that Professor Karlsson had requested burst into the laboratory: six Operators in full uniform, MP7s raised to their shoulders.

  “Everybody stay where they are!” bellowed the squad leader. “Hands on your head, Lieutenant Carpenter! Now!”

  Jamie did as he was ordered. Matt watched, feeling an uneasy combination of sympathy and vicious relief; he could feel his neck starting to swell, and he was painfully aware that he had been attacked and humiliated in front of the entire Lazarus Project.

  Four of the Operators trained their guns on Jamie as one took up a station by the door and the squad leader went to Professor Karlsson.

  “Is anyone hurt?” he asked.

  Karlsson shook his head, his face pale. “Ask Matt,” he said. “It was him the vampire attacked.”

  The vampire, thought Matt. That’s how the rest of them see Jamie. As a vampire, nothing more.

  The squad leader strode back down the room and stopped in front of him.

  “Are you hurt, Lieutenant Browning?” he asked.

  “No,” he said. “It’s fine. It was—”

  “It is not fine,” said Natalia, giving him a furious look. “You were attacked for no reason. There is nothing fine about that.”

  “Natalia,” he said. “Please.”

  She looked at him, her anger seeming to have temporarily transferred to him. Then her expression softened, and he saw tears in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” repeated Jamie, his voice low. “I really am. I lost control. I have no excuse.”

  “No,” said Paul Turner, striding into the laboratory. “You don’t. Explain yourself, Lieutenant Carpenter. Quickly.”

  Matt saw the look on the Director’s face and, in that moment, would not have traded places with Jamie for anything in the world.

  “I can’t, sir,” said Jamie. “Not in front of these Operators. It’s Zero Hour level.”

  Turner stared at him, then looked at the Security squad leader. “Stand down,” he said. “Wait outside.”

  The Operators lowered their weapons and exited the room. Once the door had swung shut with a heavy thud, Turner nodded at Jamie.

  “Speak,” he said.

  “My mother wasn’t in her cell, sir,” said Jamie. “I found out that Matt and Jack Williams escorted her out last night, and given the new SOP, I thought they were using her for testing. I lost it, sir. I’m sorry.”

  Turner stared at the vampire Operator for several long seconds, then turned to face Matt.

  “Lieutenant Browning,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied.

  “Do you want to bring disciplinary proceedings against Lieutenant Carpenter?”

  “No, sir.”

  Jamie gave him a look of such gratitude that Matt felt his heart lurch. Deep down, he knew that his friend hadn’t meant to hurt him; he was very familiar with the uncontrollable animal side that vampires spent much of their time trying to suppress, and he knew that it was what had been in control when Jamie arrived at the lab.

  “Very well,” said Turner. “Lieutenant Carpenter, you are hereby prohibited from entering the Lazarus Project for any reason, unless accompanied by myself or by another senior Operator with my express authorisation. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Jamie.

  “Does that suit you, Professor Karlsson?”

  The Lazarus Director nodded. “I think that will be fine, sir.”

  “Good,” said Turner. “Another incident like this, Lieutenant Carpenter, and you will find yourself in a cell. Is that absolutely clear to you?”

  “It is, sir,” said Jamie. “I really am
sorry.”

  Turner nodded. “All right,” he said. “Wait outside with the Security squad.”

  Jamie walked slowly across the lab, his head lowered, and stepped through the door without a backward glance. Turner waited for it to swing shut, then faced the Lazarus Project staff.

  “Carry on,” he said. “I apologise for the interruption.”

  Turner exited the lab. Matt stared after him, Natalia’s hand still tightly entwined with his own.

  “All right,” said Karlsson. “You heard the Director. Back to work, everyone.”

  Jamie waited in the corridor, alongside the Security squad that had been called into action on his account. Their guns were lowered at their sides, but they were keeping a clear distance, as though they expected him to explode again at any moment.

  Scared of me, he thought. Larissa always tried to tell me what it felt like, how awful it was, but I never really got it. Until now.

  The Lazarus Project door opened and Paul Turner emerged. He looked at the Security squad.

  “Dismissed,” he said. “Return to your stations.”

  The Operators nodded, and marched away down the corridor. The Director waited until they were out of sight, then turned to face Jamie.

  “Do I have to tell you how unbelievably stupid that was?” he asked.

  “No, sir,” said Jamie. “I know.”

  “I hope so,” said Turner, his voice low. “Because I meant what I said. You put me in a position like this again and you’re going downstairs for a long time.”

  Jamie nodded. His entire body was pulsing with guilt, and the only thing he wanted to do was the one thing he knew he couldn’t, at least for now: apologise to Matt and beg his forgiveness.

  I had my hand round his neck. Jesus. Round his throat.

  “You know your mother volunteered to receive the cure?” said Turner. “Did Browning manage to tell you that while you were choking the life out of him?”

  “He told me.”

  “So you understand that this was about your mother making a decision that had nothing to do with you?”