by G M Sherwin
Lying there prone, James rolled onto his back only to see the guard he had shot a few seconds ago standing in front of him, gun aimed at him. James didn’t have time to raise his own weapon.
Another whizz—this time the bullet hit its target. The guard’s head exploded outwards, showering the area with blood, skull and brain matter.
James let out a sigh of relief. He was alive, at least for now.
Where’s Daniel?
He picked himself and cautiously peered over the bonnet. Daniel was in the middle of chokeholding the last of the men. A sickening snap.
That is that, James thought. It did unnerve him how easily Daniel had taken to dealing with the men on the way here; he was clinical in his execution of each task. James watched as Daniel relieved the fallen guard of his radio and vest with supplies.
Daniel looked in James’s direction. “You okay?” he asked.
“Just about, and thank you,” James replied as he made his way to his Jeep.
“Let’s get out of here, shall we, before any more slow us down. Where we going, by the way?” Daniel asked as he started the engine.
“To find a friend whom I believe can help us.”
Daniel didn’t speak again. Instead he put the vehicle into drive and sped out of the entranceway, foot to the floor. The vehicle moved quickly, tyres screeching in protest at the tight turns.
“There’s going to be a gatehouse up ahead. I suppose I don’t need to tell you what to do.” James said with a hint of sarcasm.
Daniel smiled at James in amusement. This guy was growing on him. Daniel was more concerned about the gatehouse now. Oh well, too late, he thought to himself. Let’s just take this as it comes. If anyone from the centre had had chance to radio ahead to warn them, he would deal with that. Up ahead he saw the small building. Two guards stood chatting. Good, he thought, they seem blissfully unaware of what’s going on under their noses.
“Slow down and I deal with these two,” James said. “I know one of them quite well. All being well, I can talk us out of the site without much fuss. As far you’re concerned, you are my escort, okay?”
“I can go with that, but if it goes south . . .”
“I know what will happen. Let’s try, shall we?”
Daniel nodded and watched James and the guards as they slowed on approach. James lowered the window on his side and started to chat with the soldier leaning against the car’s side. Daniel acted nonchalant as the two talked shit and laughed at something or other. Daniel wasn’t interested in the conversation particularly. He was more interested in how well James was quickly adapting to his current situation. To look at the man, you would never have guessed he would be able to take the stress of this situation. Danila had seen many a good man crack under far less pressure than what he had seen James come through.
“Okay, Karl, see you in a few days,” James laughed loudly as he raised his passenger window. “Go. Go now.”
Daniel did as he was told.
Daniel
Safely away from the complex and quickly putting distance from that place, Daniel glanced at his companion. “Is it me or did we get away from there a little easier than expected, James?”
“The timing does seem convenient, but then again, we’re out. The main thing now is to get to my friend in Leeds and hide out for a few days until we can get ourselves together. We can reach out to someone I know may be able to help us.”
“Who is your friend?” asked Daniel.
“She’s someone I trust with my life. I’ve known her since my university days and she has contacts that will be useful to us, especially in our current position.”
Daniel found his surroundings familiar on the drive. The countryside stirred up notes of recognition as he sped along the country lanes.
“Does she know we are coming?” Daniel asked.
“She does now. I’ve sent her a message. Although she doesn’t know the reason or circumstances yet. Maybe best not to tell her until we are face to face.”
James felt a little guilt that he would be involving her in something this big, but what choice did he have really?
The man driving the car was an enigma and Daniel didn’t know the full extent of his situation yet. Should he tell him now? Could he handle the truth behind what they had really done to him?
“Spit it out, James. I can hear your mind ticking over from here.” Daniel’s words broke James from his private thoughts.
“I’m not sure now is the time to discuss what’s going on in my head, Daniel,” James replied, hoping Daniel would not pursue the matter.
“You promised to tell me everything once we were away from there. Well, we’re out. Now tell me what the fuck happened to me, and why do they want to dissect me, as you put it. I have a right to know and you know it. Otherwise, why break me out of that place?”
James knew by Daniel’s tone that this was a conversation he couldn’t avoid any longer. The more he did, the less trust he would have from him.
“Pull into somewhere quiet off the road. This is not a conversation to have while we are driving.”
Daniel nodded and looked for the next road that would allow them to stop and finally get the answers Daniel sorely needed right now. It only took a few minutes for Daniel to spot a road leading off the main road. He took the turning and found somewhere to park away from passers-by.
Daniel switched the engine off and unclipped his seat belt, turning to face James.
“Talk,” Daniel said.
“This is going to be hard to swallow, but let me finish before you ask me anything, okay?” James said.
Daniel nodded.
“Five years ago, I was recruited by a private business group for my expertise in genetic research—more to the point, for my research on human longevity. Back then if I had known what I know now I would never have agreed to work on this project. You must understand that, Daniel. A man called ‘the major’, the one who was present in the complex, was the one who recruited Stanmore and me.”
Daniel waited.
“My understanding at the time was I was going to be working on telomere manipulation. The idea was that by understanding fully how the body regenerates throughout its lifespan and why the gene stops working after a time, we were on the verge of extending the human lifespan by a further thirty percent. We could stop the breakdown of cells that cause most human diseases. The scourges of humanity, you see.”
James was letting his emotions show through now.
“Twelve months into the program everything changed. One minute we are close to a breakthrough and then word came down we were to move up the pace of the program. Incidentally it was renamed the Resurrection Program. I should have known then by the change of pace that something was amiss but I was too caught up in the research and the possibilities of what we were doing.”
Daniel interrupted James. “How does all this relate to how I arrived at that complex, and why I can't remember a damn thing after Syria?”
“If you let me finish, you will soon understand what’s at stake, Daniel. Will you do that?”
Emilia takes the call
Leeds’s city centre was busy with people rushing about their everyday lives. Everyone was caught up in their own thoughts, too busy to notice the crowd they weaved through. Emilia often watched people as she sat waiting for her interviewees, one small measure of peace she felt before having to listen to people spouting bullshit in an effort to impress her. Emilia couldn’t care less about some local overweight politician who probably had his fingers in the money pot.
Emilia sat back into the leather sofa, sipping her mocha whilst she waited for her now thirty minutes late guest. She hated tardiness in people; in fact it was her one pet peeve in people. Do they really think they are that important that they can keep her waiting? she thought. Just rude.
The restaurant was now filling up with the morning crowds, housewives, friends meeting up for the weekly gossip. Businessmen and women catching their early lunches.
/> Emilia loved people watching and making up her own stories for them. Who was meeting whom and why? Quite a fun game to pass the time, she thought.
Emilia’s mind wandered back to that message she received from James.
Call this number. That was it. No hello, nothing other than those three words.
She had to know.
Emilia’s guest had still not arrived. That’s it.
She dialled the number.
The tone only lasted a few seconds before a male voice answered.
“Emilia?”
“Is this James?” Emilia asked.
“Listen, I don’t have long to explain things. Can I crash at your place for a few days?”
“Err . . . yeah, but can you at least tell me why the urgency?”
“I will when we get there. It’s important that you tell no one. See you soon—oh and send me your address.”
The phone went silent.
Emilia looked at her phone with some surprise. The nerve! He could have least asked how she was before jumping straight in there for a favour.
Picking at a loose thread on her jeans, Emilia now pondered on what James had said and the meaning behind the request not to tell anyone he was coming. The alarm bells now started to sound in her head. Was he in trouble? Emilia knew he worked for the Department of Defence on projects that he had never shared, but knowing his background in genetic research, it must be important. Chemical or biological agents was Emilia’s guess.
Back to the present situation, Emilia was now growing impatient with this local MP. Fuck it, she wasn’t going to wait any longer. Besides, her curiosity had gotten the better of her, with her interest now piqued and patience levels at zero, Emilia grabbed her things, paid her bill and quickly left.
Rage
Collins limped his way to Stanmore’s office. Good God, that fucker is going to get what’s coming him. Still fuming at the situation down below, he noticed that something was amiss when reached the room of the man he wanted to kill for letting his men die horribly. His leg hurt like a bastard now and the blood felt hot and sticky against his ankle.
The door to the office was wide open and the room was empty. Collins noticed something else. Stanmore had left in a hurry, leaving an unusually untidy desk. Collins often remarked on how anal Stanmore was about his office—everything had its proper place and order.
The bastard had left! Collins’s rage grew; even the pain he felt couldn’t dampen that. Okay, let’s clean this wound, find those responsible and fuck the orders, he barked at himself.
Startled by a noise outside of the office, he turned to see one of the soldiers he’d ordered to guard the lift. His eyes told Collins news that he didn’t want to hear.
“What is it, son?” Collins asked.
“They came too fast, sir—not from the lift but the stairwell. What do we do? And . . .”
“What?”
“Some of them are our own lads, but not. They’re out of their minds—crazy-like. I just don’t know how to describe it.” The soldier was shaking.
“Come on, follow me and stay close,” Collins said as he moved past him and into the hallway and towards the chatter of rapid gunfire.
The corridor at the turn was filled with more of those things, and his men were in the direct path of the mass.
“Move, all of you—we are out of here!” Collins shouted. Rifle at his shoulder and firing over the heads of the retreating men. One down—two down—followed by another three.
Damn, they just keep coming and they won’t stay down!
“Come on, soldier, get back into the action here! I've no fucking clue what they are and we’re not sticking around to ask them.” Urging the frightened man at his side, Collins retreated, still firing his weapon.
Down on one knee, Collins knew he was running low on ammo and there wasn’t enough to keep this lot at bay for long. All but one of the men had made it back to his position. One straggler fell just ahead of the crowd, bloodied and by the looks of things in a serious way.
“Help me, for God’s sake, help me!” the fallen man kept shouting.
Collins knew it was too late but stayed fixed to his spot, firing all the while. He did the only thing he could for the poor soldier. The last shot sprayed his brains across the nearby wall. Within seconds, his body was being torn apart from head to foot by those things, eating anything they could get hold off.
Collins didn’t wait to see anything else. He turned and followed his men down through the hallway and into the reception area. There they stood, but not for the reason he thought.
“It’s locked down, sir,” one said.
“Fuck!” Collins slammed his boot into the secured door, forgetting his wound. “Everyone to the roof.”
Quickly moving, off they ran to the stairwell leading up to the upper levels, boots thudding all the way up, not stopping to see if they were being followed until they reached the rooftop door. Locked. It took three of them to burst through and out into the roof.
“Now what?” the corporal asked.
“Down we go and get some transport,” replied Collins. Now he felt the pain in his leg again.
“Is it me or is this just a bit weird how we were all left here—I mean, no forewarning, just fuck it, leave ‘em and run. What the fuck is that all about, sir?”
“I don’t know, corporal, but believe me, I intend to find that son of a bitch Stanmore and the major. Now,” Collins said, looking at the ground below, “it’s not high. We can climb down and head back to the garage, grab a vehicle and get the hell away from here.”
The crash of the door startled the soldiers from their brief respite as the horde they thought they’d left behind rushed through and at them with surprising speed. A dozen or so, from what Collins could make out in that brief moment.
“Everyone off the roof now. There’s too many to tackle in our current state,” Collins shouted.
There were no arguments as one by one they leaped over the edge, preferring the thirty-foot drop to facing the undead. Thud after thud, as each of the remaining soldiers landed. Collins followed last. Red hot pain shot up the side of his body as he hit the ground hard.
“You okay, sir?”
“Aye, better than I would be if I was still up there,” he said, nodding towards the rooftop. “Come on, let’s—”
The ground shook before Collins could finish the sentence. Spinning on his heel, Collins turned and saw the second blast rip through the lower levels of the complex. Another, then another.
No words were needed to prompt everyone to move away from the blast zone. They’d rigged the whole to place to explode. Covering up the evidence, he thought. There it was again, the rage. Collins and the rest of the surviving men watched fire and smoke billow into the sky.
The Arrival
James sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep tapping his knee nervously. He knew there was no going back now, certainly not after the conversation he’d just had with Daniel only an hour before.
Parked away from prying eyes, James had poured out the full extent of what was at stake for them both and indeed the future of humanity. James still couldn’t work out how Daniel was taking the information they had shared. The man is tough to read, he thought as he studied the block of luxury apartments, hoping to God this was the right place. They had parked away from any street lighting and carefully observed any passing car for their pursuers. Surely they would be out looking for them now? The major would have assembled a group of his best to hunt them down, and how long could they really evade his men? All these thoughts made James all the more vigilant.
In his mind, James went over the conversation that he knew he was going to have to have with Emilia. She was too inquisitive by nature not to ask probing questions. With that said, James thought she was by far the best person to handle what lay ahead.
“How long will she be?” Daniel’s voice shook James from his private thoughts.
“She said she would meet us here around ten o’c
lock,” James said, glancing at his watch.
“How well do you know this woman?” Daniel asked. He never took his eyes off the surrounding area, always on the alert for something unexpected.
“I’ve known Emilia for years and would trust her with my life.”
“I hope you’re right, James, because I can see a van at three o’clock parked in the shadows. Either your friend has betrayed you or they have tracked us here somehow. Either way, we can’t stay here.”
James saw the parked van. Black. Two men sat in the front. It was them, all right. How, though? They would not have had the time to react to the two of them leaving as they did, would they?
“The guards in the complex car park—they must have put a tracer on your car before we got there, which means they let us escape. The question is why, James?”
“I can't answer that because it makes absolutely no sense.”
***
Daniel eyed up the men in the other vehicle at the end of the street. They were watching and undoubtedly reporting back to the powers that be. This whole situation he had found himself in was becoming more bizarre by the minute.
Only twenty-four hours before, he had awoken in that God-awful place, only to be told he had been kept there comatose for two years. For all intents and purposes, he was dead to his family and anyone who had known him, and for what? A bloody experiment to enhance soldier life expectancy on the battlefield. Fuck them! The anger Daniel felt for the life they had robbed him of welled inside of him, threatening to burst out of his chest.
His knuckles went white on the steering wheel and he glared at the black van. Daniel knew what he had to do. One thing was starting to become clear.
“So here's the thing, James. If they have tracked us here and know that we are here,” he stared directly at James as he spoke, “what the fuck are they waiting for?”
“It’s a clean up crew.”