Utopia: A Dark Thriller: Complete Edition

by Adam Steel

  None of them had offered any real leads. They had received hundreds of so-called ‘sightings’ of the phantom killer that now stalked the streets. They had no suspects. Nothing solid. At first the Docks killings had pointed towards Jomo Marseilles and his cronies. It was propositioned that the killings were some kind of sick retaliation for Betts’s arrest of his younger brother Marko. The two brother’s faces had dominated the board for the first few days. Marko’s face had stared at her from the board. His face would be burned on her conscience forever for the effect it would have on her life. Her stomach had clenched into a tight ball. The blood drained from her face and her mind went temporarily numb from the realisation of what she had been a part of.

  Oh my God, Aya thought. Why, Oh Why, did I ever let it get this far?

  The pictures had been taken down and de-prioritised as the killings went on and Marko remained safely in jail. With Max. Different sectors, different people. There was no clear motive linking the crimes. The forensic examination of each victim insisted that it was the same killer. The same wound patterns - the same weapon - everything.

  F.R.E.D was never wrong.

  Fin-Sen had processed, and churned out, the post mortem information more efficiently than a small army of pathologists. It had matched the slash patterns on each victim perfectly, creating a holographic jigsaw of pain, on the stations briefing screen. Three days earlier the case had been de-prioritised altogether. It was being transferred over to TALOS, along with all the evidence. Betts had been livid at the trespass into his work. He had screamed that it was unheard of. It was insulting.

  The papers had not reported the transgression. At least not yet.

  “Max is out,” the kid had said.

  Aya reasoned that if Max was out, Marko would be as well. She had no doubt that they had come out together, through whatever scheme Jack had planned. She felt responsible. She had released a killer. Unwittingly yes, by accident, some sort of collateral damage from wanting to free Max so badly. Collateral damage. Is that would she would say if Marko went on a killing spree too? Is that what she would tell the victims? she asked herself. She looked up at the statue of Albert again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. I’m so sorry.

  ‘I think it’s too late for that,’ said the statue in a gravelly voice as it looked on with cold, stone eyes.

  Aya jumped in surprise as Jack materialised out of the shadows from behind the statue.

  He was carrying a small, tattered suitcase.

  Aya caught her breath and quickly recovered from the shock. She hated the way Jack made his entrances. He melted in and out of the shadows like a ghost. She supposed that it came from experience, rather than physical ability. She was thinking that it was certainly a clever feat for someone as fat, and out of shape, as he seemed to be.

  ‘Is it true? Is Max okay?’ she asked.

  She was beginning to liken Jack to some kind of devil. He traded in lies. A person would have to ask the right questions, then, try to sift the grains of truth from his responses. She found that talking with him made her feel dirty now; like she was committing another ghastly offence.

  “Most unclean” the words drifted into her mind from her dream-father and she shuddered.

  Jack set the case down.

  ‘Yes. He’s out.’

  Aya felt a surge of relief. At last the nightmare’s ending, she thought.

  ‘Where is he?’ she whispered, daring to hope.

  Jack leaned against the statue.

  ‘In a moment,’ he said. ‘There’s been some complications.’

  Aya ignored his statement and waded in with her questions.

  ‘How did you do it Jack? How did you get him out?’

  She paused briefly and hissed, ‘What did you do with the file?’

  Jack continued as though she had asked him nothing.

  ‘We don’t have much time. You can’t return to work. Or that man you’re supposed to marry, or, go home. You’re going to meet Max, and then I suggest you find a good place to hide,’ Jack replied.

  Aya leaned in closer, ‘What did you do with the file?’ she hissed again, dreading the response.

  Jack leaned towards her and explained his version of, The Great Escape. He thought she took the news pretty well. It had involved the Marseilles gang. He had given the information to Marko’s brother Jomo. Jomo had used it to release Marko and Max, who had come out with him. Yes it had been the only way. They had stormed the prison; shot the guards, and fled back to their holes with their prize. It had happened yesterday, and today would come CURE Prisons’ response. Or rather it should have been CURE Prisons’ response. It was much worse than that.

  That’s why Jack had brought the suitcase.

  A few hours earlier

  It had been a busy night. Now as dawn stole over the horizon Jack felt exhausted. As soon as his meeting with Max was over, he left the Liquid Sun Bar and Red-Man’s lair behind him, and set out for the long journey ahead: a journey that would end, far, far, away. Where it was safe.

  After his run-in with Max in the Liquid Sun Bar, it had been easy for Jack to convince Pinks to go and see Aya in the early hours of that morning. Rat-boy never needed much convincing. As a beat cop, Jack had often given him a not-so-friendly whack in the past to remind him who was the boss. Time had not taken the memories of the hardness of the back of Jack’s hand away from Pinks. He had gotten the kid to throw a few pills of the Red to Max before he had left. That should keep him from testing out Louis’s concoction for a while. At least until I’m far away from him, thought Jack. Fucking arsehole, he hated the military and Max was ex-military.

  Jack checked his watch. It was almost midnight. Nearly twelve hours since the breakout. He began to calculate their response as he walked towards his battered car. Behind him, Liquid Sun Bar was closing up for the last time. They knew what would be coming alongside the sun’s rays. Most of the gang’s stash (and people) would be moved out. They would go through the underground the tunnels and seal them up behind them. Only a few things were being moved out at surface level.

  A few of the gang were heaving a large plastic bag into the back of a white transit van, which was parked behind his own wreck of a car. A large, limp hand dangled out of a rip in it. The fingers were chubby and bruised. Jack tried to look away when one of the gangsters caught his look.

  ''ey naa ya worry Jackie,' the black man grinned.

  Jack hated those grins. They made them when they meant to hurt someone, or had some nefarious plan.

  They grinned a lot.

  'She nah ded. A fact wi be givin' 'er a trip fi work a mornin'!' the black man said and burst into barking laughter.

  Jack grimaced, got into his car, and started the engine. His thoughts returned to the aftermath of the jailbreak, and how long they had left. Around him, the streets flew past, as he circled Utopia’s road system, closing on his destination. He felt a pang of anticipation. He mused on the consequences of their deadly actions. They’d have to clean up the mess. They’d assess the damage. Secure the prison. Then they’d start asking the questions. Who escaped? Who broke them out? How did they know where to strike? How did they know the time? The ‘exact time’ of the prisoner transfer. The ‘only time’ the ambitious breakout could have succeeded. They would have worked out that whoever had done this would have had to have had the file. The confidential CURE Prison file with the transfer details on it. That file could only have been obtained from a CURE Prison terminal, either at Fin-Sen, or at a CURE station. It could have only been obtained by someone with access. The train of logic would only lead them in one direction. That’s where Jack was heading right now. He wanted to see it for himself. It was risky, but he couldn’t let it go. He wanted to see the man’s face when they came for him.

  He wanted revenge. Cold, hard, sweet, revenge.

  Jack knew there would be no investigator. Not one in the sense that he understood the role anyway. Investigators like Jack didn’t exist in CURE anymore. The
y wouldn’t talk to people. They would talk to the computer. Every communication, from every terminal, would have been logged in the mainframe at Fin-Sen. He knew (that if they asked it the right questions) it would give them the correct answers. It would betray Commander Betts’ terminal to them without a second thought. Computers had no loyalty to their fellow and they never lied. They were the perfect witness. That’s why Jack hated them. Jack thought it through. Someone would already have asked those questions. He could almost picture the smart-arse typing requests into the great machine in their modern-day investigation. They would have seen who pulled the file. They would put the pieces together.

  Jack pulled into the street where Commander Betts lived. He parked his car and waited. Jack watched from behind a curtain of smoke as they came to take Commander Betts away. He had waited patiently for this day for a long time. The day had come when CURE would lead Betts away in cuffs. It was his sweet revenge for Betts getting him kicked out of the Sector Seven station, and wrecking his career.

  The CURE officers did not come for Betts. Instead, the red and black of a TALOS vehicle came, as silent as a panther stalking its prey in the black of night. The soldiers got out, stealthily. They brought Betts out in cuffs, and stole him away in the vehicle and they were gone as silent as a ghost.

  It was as if it had never happened.

  There was no public arrest. No public shaming. Nothing, except a silent removal in the dead of night. Jack felt cheated, but not as much as he felt the fear. TALOS.

  Jack had no doubt that they would already be on their way to Liquid Sun Bar, and Mick’s Motors, ready for the shakedown. The jailbreak had been a declaration of war on the CURE by the Marseilles brothers. The days of them being tolerated (for whatever reason) were truly over. TALOS wouldn’t find anything. The gang would be long gone: retreated to further holes, and secret places. They would hide in the darkest depths of Utopia. He needed to do the same.

  The Jack-Mobile pulled away. It was on its way back to his office that, like Liquid Sun Bar, would be shutting up shop for the last time. He formulated his next move. He would meet the girl in Memorial Park, and then he would be gone. He contemplated leaving her behind. The threat from Max didn’t hold a candle to how scared he was of TALOS, but abandoning the girl to her fate felt wrong, even to Jack. He had enough demons and he didn’t fancy another one haunting him, gnawing away on the edge of his frayed conscience. He was going to close the case on the girl the right way, right by his standards in any case. Then he could go and get away. TALOS were hunting the night, and they terrified him, more than he had ever been in his whole miserable life.

  Memorial Park: Sector Four

  Daybreak

  Jack finished telling Aya about the events that had led up to Max’s release from prison. She had taken the news about Betts’ clandestine disappearance, less well than the jailbreak.

  ‘We both know what TALOS will get from Betts,’ Jack said. ‘Nothing. But it won’t take long to realise exactly who it was that got the file from his machine. They are probably looking for you, right now,’ Jack said.

  Aya shrank back. She looked horrified.

  ‘Jack what have you done! TALOS? Are you insane?’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ Jack soothed.

  Aya shivered and looked at him with anxious eyes.

  ‘They will be waiting at your workplace. Probably at your home too. You must get away,’ he urged.

  ‘TALOS at home? But…My mum! What…’ Aya gasped.

  She put her hands to her mouth and he could see she was starting to lose control.

  ‘Your mother doesn’t know anything. They’ll be able to tell that. They won’t be interested in her – just you!’ he stated.

  Aya was panicking, and her breathing was coming out in small bursts. She could not imagine how terrified her mother would be at having a visit from TALOS, and being told that her daughter was wanted in connection with a break in at the CURE station. She could picture the military men standing in her mother’s front room, on her mother’s precious Persian rug in their big, black, boots. She had an image of her mother staring at their boots and being petrified – Tea-Tray in hand. Tears filled her eyes and she turned to Jack and pleaded.

  ‘Please. You’ve got to help me. Take me somewhere safe. I don’t know what to do.’

  Jack pulled back from her.

  ‘No-way lady. I get caught with you and that’s my lot.’

  She clutched at his arm, ‘Please,’ she begged, ‘if they catch me, they’ll find out about you too!’ she protested.

  Jack shook his head sadly.

  ‘I’m sorry lady but they won’t. Nobody saw me anywhere near that station, except you. There are no prints: no eye scans of me, nothing. After tonight, I won’t even be here. Jack won’t even exist. He’ll just be a phantom you invented to get yourself off. They won’t believe you.’

  Aya fell down to her knees pleading.

  ‘Please you’ve got to help me! Where is Max? Tell me where he is!’

  Jack looked uncomfortable. He had covered his own arse pretty well. It was much harder to cover his guilt. He felt genuinely sorry for her. He pulled her up from the cold, stone ground.

  ‘He’ll be at the Unicorn Hotel in Sector Six. Expect him this afternoon. It’ll take that long for him to get ferried around the safe houses before they drop him off. It’s a shithole – but then – where in Utopia ain’t,’ he said in a voice that was allowing a hint of compassion.

  He gave her a crumpled print-out of the hotel and its location. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked down at it. She was thinking that it didn’t look too bad from its picture. Two white unicorn’s adorned its front.

  ‘How am I supposed to get there? Aya sniffed, hoping Jack had an answer, ‘Thanks to you, half the city is probably looking for me!’

  Jack shook his head again.

  ‘I doubt it. In fact I doubt the jailbreak will even be on the news. In my experience bad things about the Masons or CURE don’t make the papers. I never did. Nor did Marko and Max’s life sentences.’

  ‘Life sentences?’ Aya queried. She was confused.

  ‘Yes. They had their sentences changed in prison. It was in the file. That’s why the transfer was happening. Didn’t you get that? It was them and a lot of others too.’

  Aya gasped in shock. She knew that lifers had no visitors. If Jack hadn’t intervened, she would never have seen her Max again. He would have simply disappeared.

  ‘If you ask me, I don’t like the smell of this,’ Jack said, wrinkling his nose.

  ‘Something funny’s going on. Has been for years. You hear things. Little things here, little things there. You get to know people in my line of work. Some of them got strange ideas. Conspiracy theorists. Nut-jobs. Whackos. You hear it enough. You start to think maybe they’re right.’

  Jack began to rummage in the suitcase as he continued, ‘Frankly I don’t care what’s going on, and I don’t want to know. I like staying alive, and blissful ignorance sounds good to me,’ he muttered.

  Aya was listening. She was standing holding the map and looking stunned.

  ‘Of course, those kind of people can be very useful. Their paranoid nature, means they can get you things like…’ he said, and pulled a small device from the suitcase.

  It resembled a pair of swimming goggles, with blank opaque lens.

  ‘Like these,’ he finished, brandishing the strange device.

  Aya looked at the device, trying to control her shaking hands. She couldn’t think straight. She was exhausted from sleep deprivation and worry ever since Jack had made her steal the information: information which had allowed Marko Marseilles back on the streets and made her a wanted person.

  He handed the goggles to Aya.

  ‘Put these on,’ he ordered.

  Aya hesitated, looking over the strange device. It had a rubber strap at the back, and the inside of the lenses were blank, like tiny computer screens. They were focused to a sharp point in the ce
ntre, where the iris of an eye would be.

  ‘What are they?’ she asked, sounding very confused.

  Jack took them away from her and roughly shoved them over her head and ignoring her weak protests.

  Look…We don’t have much time. I’d sooner just leave you here, but I got my standards, however low they might be. These things are to help you get where you’re going without getting caught, and having to answer a few unpleasant questions alongside my old friend Alvin Betts.’

  Jack finished adjusting the device around her head, and stepped back, satisfied.

  ‘Keep your eyes open and don’t move,’ he instructed.

  He flicked a tiny switch on the side of the device. The blackness of the strange, metallic blind-fold, was suddenly illuminated to Aya when the tiny screens in the lenses, went bright red. They filled her whole world, and stung her eyes. A bright white message was printed in the centre.

  It read:

  DO NOT MOVE

  KEEP EYES OPEN

  REALIGNMENT IN 5 SECONDS

  Aya had a terrible feeling as the numbers counted down.

  She froze.

  5

  4

  3

  2

  1

  0

  The screen went blank.

  Her shoulders slumped in relief when a small whine from the device faded to nothing. I wonder what the point of that was? she thought. Suddenly, her world exploded in a dazzling array of colours. Her hands would have shot to her face to claw at her eyes. Jack held them firmly in an iron grip to stop her removing the device. The light was blinding. It flashed light and dark. The strobes of light flicked over and over, at an impossibly high frame rate. It took all of her strength to keep her eyes open. The warning of the device, imprinted her retina, like an image of the sun staying with a person’s vision after they had dared look straight at it. Her pain was excruciating. She felt as though someone was running tiny microscopic needles across the surface of her eyes, which were now pouring with streams of salty liquid. She wanted desperately to scream, but ‘screaming’ would have meant ‘moving.’