Fletcher

by David Horscroft

  RailTech had a gaseous form of angel-rage. That must have been the molecular structure Valerie had been looking at—one which could be diffused in the air and still maintain efficacy. They’d used this gaseous form on the public. I thought of the drug, and of its effects. I had become wild in the Midnight Hour, feral, even more dangerous than usual. Unhinged, to deadly effect. I imagined RailTech supersoldiers on the stuff, crack teams of three tearing bloody murder through swathes of grinning flesh. Turbo-charged violence.

  It wasn’t an appealing thought. With distributed-chamber suits like the EnviroLock, delivery would be easy. It would just take the flip of a switch from someone higher up to trigger the reaction. Unleash the kraken, on cue. RailTech’s genius lay in the innate complexity and versatility of the 429 units. They were capable of anything. Well, almost anything. I still eluded them.

  I fell asleep in blood-stained sheets. Six words rolled through my head, over and over again.

  Cut the head off the snake.

  I had to kill Strauch. The rest would fall into place. I had to kill Strauch.

  #0007

  “This one took so long to die. The noose didn’t break her neck. The last two died quickly, despite their struggles. Slit wrists and pills. This one... This one suffered.

  I watched her thrashing and crying. Something pulled me forward, and I reached an arm out. Did I want to save her?

  I touched her face as steadily as I could. Her eyes were unfocused and bouncing up and down. I touched her tears, felt the heat from her cheeks.

  I didn’t want it to stop. We are so beautiful when we suffer. I wanted it to continue, forever.”

  25: Agonies Past and Present

  I had to strike the first blow. Not entirely accurate: the first blow had fallen from the sky like a hammer. So had the second, third and forth. The point was that I had a blow to strike. I had to go onto the offensive.

  I’ve often spoken of the power of a Herald of Future Agonies. This was an exception: I had no intention of breaking Strauch. I wanted to enrage him. I wanted to force him to fight back. I wanted him to lose himself in the grinning flesh and become sloppy. Emotions were a powerful weapon.

  The greatest blow would land on the crest of a victory. I paid a visit to Quisling. I was quiet for a few minutes as I watched her pace around the room. I sighed, and she stopped moving.

  “I’ve come to a decision.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m not going to kill you.”

  Her entire body froze, save for a repressed quiver that passed through her face. She seemed suspicious.

  “I’m being honest. I’m going to let you leave, but you have to follow my instructions.”

  A shuddering sound emerged from her chest. She sat down rapidly. “I… I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t see how I could be clearer.”

  She was shaking openly now. Her hands clasped over her mouth. The thought of her vomiting over the tiles sent a quiver through my body.

  “Right now, the gutterage is hot. Some kind of gang war on the surface. Take this phone; it’s been modified so you can’t make any calls. Not even emergencies. I will text you when it’s safe to leave. If you leave before then, you will be captured or killed.”

  She nodded, still stunned with disbelief.

  “It’s cold outside. It might even rain. You’ll need clothes. Here.” I handed her jeans, shoes and a heavy duffel coat. “To get out, take a right out these doors. Stairwell is at the end. Keep going up until you run out of stairs, and you’ll be on the ground floor. Out the stairwell and go straight. The doors will open automatically.”

  She whispered faintly, “Why?”

  “Don’t question. Just remember, if you leave before my signal, you will die, or worse. Can you remember that?”

  She nodded. I stepped in and unlocked her shackles. She rubbed her ankle tenderly.

  I extended my hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Quiz.”

  She shook it numbly. I could see she still didn’t know what to believe. I left, trusting her to follow instructions. I had promises to keep, promises to myself and to Strauch, and many miles before I could sleep.

  ***

  “Put me through to Strauch.”

  “I’m sorry, who is talking?”

  “Put me through to Strauch. Tell him Fletcher’s waiting.”

  The line went quiet for a minute, save for the brush of static. I was being redirected.

  “Hello, K.”

  “I’ve told you, Strauch. It’s Fletcher to you.”

  “You sound annoyed. Understandable. Not everyone kills both of their friends in quick succession.”

  I took a deep breath to calm myself. Now was not the time for a reaction. To my left was my laptop, camera feeds giving me a full view of the Helix. A rifle butt nestled in my shoulder. I peered at my watch, then down the scope, and returned to my call.

  “How many of your men have I killed now? You’ve underestimated me at every step. I told you I would kill you, Strauch. I still intend to do so.”

  A dry, alien chuckle blended with the background static. I decided to cut it short.

  “I know about the angel-rage, you smug prick.” The sounds of amusement halted abruptly and were replaced by a tone of displeasure.

  “Do you, now? And what do you intend to do with this information?”

  “What do you think? I’ll take you down, I’ll take RailTech down. Experimenting on civilians? The world might have slipped back a few paces, but you’re done for. You’re all done for. The sane world—whatever’s left of it—will tear you apart.”

  “You would be surprised, K. People will put a lot of their convictions aside for a little more safety.”

  “Of course you think that. It’s not going to matter. You’re going to be dead.”

  “That would be incredibly ambitious of you.”

  The poor quality of the call gave his response a menacing tone. I caught a chill at my nape and shrugged it off.

  “I’m glad you think so.” I didn’t like the way my venom had petered out.

  I imagined the smirk on his face.

  “Are you comfortable?” he asked. “I did not know you were so invested in your biochemistry. Tell me, how long have you been at the Helix Institute?”

  I swore and dropped the handset. I’d been on the line for over two minutes. I could still hear Strauch laughing.

  “Shit!”

  I glanced at my screen. Headlights sliced through the evening gloom as a heavy truck slammed through the chain-link gate. Two more cruised in behind it. I grabbed a second cellphone and hit ‘Send’. RailTech was exceptionally fast on the scramble.

  “How’d you—”

  “K, you have been sloppy. Now you pay for it.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Do not bother surrendering. They all have instructions to kill you on sight.”

  My gasping made it to Strauch. I heard him laughing again. My breathing made my head feel light. Men poured out of the trucks, decked in full body armour. Strauch had sent an army. A large group spread out to form a perimeter, while the rest clustered around the door. There was to be no escape from the Helix.

  I flinched involuntarily as they smashed through the glass doors. It was bulletproof sheet, but they treated it in a method I was familiar with. Heat blasting, followed by a liquid nitrogen spray. A set of hairline cracks appeared, and the door surrendered to a steel ram. No more reassuring hiss. I would miss it. My hand stroked the steel barrel and I shifted slightly.

  The first man stepped inside the building. I scrabbled around and jammed an earpiece into my left ear.

  “Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit.”

  Little red dots blinked on the helmets—scanners for cameras. They raised their rifles, and I heard a burst of gunfire. Camera one went dead. I switched my view to camera two. The men were advancing down the corridor, bursting into rooms and sweeping them in teams. I wasn’t on the first floor.

  I could hear a ga
sping in my second earpiece, along with echoing footsteps. Quisling was in the stairwell, right on cue. I lifted my phone and hissed at Strauch.

  “This isn’t over, you bastard.”

  “Yes, it is. This call is providing endless amusement. If you would, I would like to enjoy your final moments.”

  “Go to hell.”

  I dropped it again and looked back at camera two.

  There was a scream in my ear as Quisling ran into the searchlights. It was instantly apparent that she was not their target. Several men shouted at once, but her shrieks cut through the din.

  “It’s not me it’s not me don’t shoot.”

  She raised her arms. I could hear the coat rustle as she did so. Someone took command and told her to calm down. One man stepped forward and lowered the rifle, leading her towards the exit. I hit ‘Send’ on another message.

  Goodbye, Amanda-Quisling.

  The explosion shook cameras three through eight. Camera two went dead, along with the sound feed. I threw the earpiece aside and lifted the phone again.

  “Your war of attrition will not succeed, Fletcher. There is only so much you can throw at us.” A snider tone had entered his voice. “I will enjoy watching you die.”

  My bait had only slowed them down. A fresh set of men hit the stairwell, watching the corners as they descended. Camera three went down. Camera four went down. Camera five went down.

  They wrecked my home. Doors were smashed, desks were overturned. My Strauch-shrine was scanned meticulously then shredded. Eventually I had one set of eyes remaining: camera eight, in the central security room.

  “There is nowhere to hide.”

  The door shook. It was reinforced, but it wouldn’t hold. I checked my watch and slid down the rifle, getting ready. A burst of splinters told me that my time was up.

  Men burst into the room, scanning all the corners. This was the final room. They had caught me. One of them lifted up a block of plastic on the desk.

  Two cell phones, taped together. Both were busy making a call. Strauch stopped laughing abruptly as he realised what it meant.

  “Eric. Why don’t you call your wife?”

  I hung up and stared down the scope. Right on time, the armoured truck came into view. I shifted through the foliage and lined up my shot. This one was for the Helix, eighty kilometres away from my current spot. Sometimes the old tricks were the best.

  The recoil bucked my shoulder. The right wheel burst and the truck swerved, tipping and collapsing onto its side. It skidded for several metres before coming to a stop, wheels still spinning. I set the gun down and started sprinting.

  The sound of grinding metal was perforated by the sweet, melodious tune of a ringing phone. As I approached, it cut off. Seconds later, a second attempt was made.

  I pulled out my pistol and vaulted up onto the side with a feral whoop. Adrenaline thrilled me into a laugh. I emptied two bullets into the side window, but the glass was bulletproof. The crash had damaged the lock, so I stooped down and pulled the door open. Both drivers were wearing RailTech insignia. I dropped into the front-space and finished them off. The phone wasn’t either of theirs. It was coming from the back.

  I hoisted myself back out and skipped around to the back of the truck. The ring ended and started up for a third time. I pulled on the lever and the heavy steel fell open on the bottom side. I ducked into the space.

  It was cushy, for an armoured truck. A shock of platinum hair startled me, but I looked closer. It wasn’t the boy. It wasn’t even hair. A silvery scarf hung limply over the edge of a seat. Eric Strauch’s family lay sprawled about, stunned and unconscious.

  I stepped over the son and slipped my fingers into his wife’s pocket. I touched vibrations and smiled.

  Her phone was a fancy deal, wide touch-screen. One of those Samsung Galaxy numbers. The glass had been cracked. I had to swipe it a few times to answer.

  “Hello, Eric.”

  Something was shouted in garbled German. I didn’t catch any of it.

  “Such a lovely family you have.”

  He transitioned to English.

  “If you dare touch—”

  “Ha!”

  “—I will—”

  “You’ll what, Strauch? What the fuck will you do?”

  The German flooded back.

  I shouted madly into the receiver, “Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up, you saucy German cunt. Listen to the person who has your fucking family.”

  Eric Strauch said nothing, replacing his words with shaking breaths.

  “So this is what’s going to happen, Eric. You’ve had a good laugh. We’ve had fun, haven’t we? We joked and we played and you dosed me full of your party-in-a-syringe. But that ends, and that ends now.

  “I won’t pretend it’s been all smooth sailing. Those party-syringes, hey, they really fractured me up. Who knows what I’ll do? You clearly don’t. I don’t even know what crazy”—I crooned on the word—“things I’ll do. Dangerous things. Insane things.

  “You’re a hard man, Strauch, but guess what? You showed me that even the hard ones have weak points. That includes you. Welcome to the game, Strauch. You made the rules. I’m just coming up to bat…”

  I trailed off to signal that it was his turn. I stepped back over the body and onto the mud outside before pulling a tripod off my shoulders. Strauch was gasping now, wet and heavy. I screwed a camera in place, and zoomed in. A powerful illumination globe lit up the scene.

  “K, listen to me. Listen to me. My family has nothing to do with this. Leave them out of this.”

  He had more to say, but I interrupted him as I wrestled the petrol cap off with my spare hand. My throat was already hoarse from my screaming. It gave my voice a skaverous flavour.

  “Nothing to do with this? Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds? No, Strauch, no. You can do better than that. Grovel for me.”

  His voice hardened slightly. “It is not going to help, is it?”

  “You have to try.”

  There was a mewling from the truck—Mrs Strauch was waking. Perfect timing. I hushed Eric’s words.

  “Have a word with wifey, Eric.”

  She mumbled, confused, as I held the phone to her ear. Blood dripped down her face. I pulled out another camera and took some shots, for the holiday album. She was dazed and incoherent. It probably wasn’t the best of goodbyes. I snatched the device back mid-sentence and started splashing petrol everywhere. A bitter sobbing filtered through the night air.

  “Hey there, Strauchey. Almost lost you there. We’re going to have to skip little Strauch Junior, he’s still sleeping. Can you smell that? Fuck-what-am-I-saying, of course you can’t.”

  There was a wet coughing on the phone.

  “Please, K. They are not a part of this.”

  I lost it. “I’m sorry!” I screamed. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of this fucking! beautiful! bonfire!”

  I threw the phone into the back of the truck. It bounced off her head. She yelped, and I pulled a box of matches from my coat pocket.

  There’s probably a long, wonderful German word for what I’m feeling right now.

  I kept filming until the shrieks stopped completely.

  #0004

  “It has been too long. The girl with the green eyes, she brought far too much heat down on my area. Her father was some big-shot politician, for god’s sake. Rookie error, K, seriously rookie. Keep this up and you’ll be dead in a year.

  “I’ve decided that I don’t like guns as much. I killed two tonight. Waited for them to approach me at the park. One of them held a knife to me, and I shot him in the face. His partner ran and I got him in the back. The rush was still there, still strong, but it felt...distanced. It felt wrong. There was no screaming struggle, no bitter fight for life. Point and squeeze.

  “They were scum. They will not be missed.”

  26: Recruitment

  It didn’t matter who had drawn first blood; Strauch now bled profusely. His hurt spilled fr
om his veins and splattered the gutterage in black-red RailTech insignia. Roaming squads were visible through the day and the night. I holed up in small crawlspaces (smawlspaces?) during the day and flitted about at night. I watched as the Midnight Hour was rigorously searched. No gunshots were fired. Tonight, the patrons were peaceful.

  I waited until the two 429 squads departed. I thought of tracking them down and hunting them from the shadows, but I had more important work to do. I had to pull together an army of my own. War had reared its napalm-scented head and waved its crimson spines in the air. The monster perched high above the city, and waited.

  I knocked on the walls at the club entrance three times with a meat hook. Dante made eye contact. The effect was immediate and pronounced. The music stopped and the lights flicked on. All eyes turned to me.

  I looked up at the Wasp Gallery, then back down to the dance floor. My gaze met Clarice. It was unexpected, and I blinked. A bruise radiated from the broken skin on her forehead. She waved with a dainty hand and cracked a smile. I was jolted with a strange feeling.

  Dante had received my message, clearly. He moved over and gave me a microphone. I paused, and coughed. The feedback burned through the speakers. I stepped backwards and the whine died down. I scratched my ear.

  “This isn’t what I do.” I almost felt awkward under the staring eyes.

  “This is not what I do.”

  Try again.

  “A lot of you know me. Maybe not by name, but probably by legend. Or whatever it is you’d call it. Myth. And I, well, I know a lot of you. You know that this is not what I do. You know that I’m the one who smiles and winks, I’m the one who brushes you off with a toss of my head. You know I’m the one who moves in for the close without saying anything. I do not convince people with my words alone.