Doomsday

by Chris Morphew

  She moved back into position at the door, and we slipped past her, out into the gloom of the passageway.

  THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 1.22 A.M. 15 HOURS, 38 MINUTES

  The nausea hit me as soon as I stepped outside. I pushed up the corridor, stumbling, everything fuzzy with tears, breaking into a run before I even knew what I was doing.

  ‘Wait!’ called Jordan, as soon as we were out of earshot of the panic room.

  I kept running, like my dread was a monster bearing down on me, and all it would take was a moment’s hesitation, one false move, and it would overtake me completely and –

  ‘Luke!’ Jordan caught hold of my wrist. ‘Luke, stop.’

  I wiped my eyes clear with the back of my hand and realised that she was crying too.

  ‘Talk to me,’ she said. ‘What are we doing here?’

  ‘You know what we’re doing,’ I said, walking again, but keeping hold of her hand. ‘You’re going to send me back twenty years, and I’m going to tell us all about Tobias.’

  Jordan made an exasperated noise, but it got caught in her throat and came out more like a sob. ‘I can’t just send you back, Luke. That’s not how it works.’

  ‘No, I know, but –’

  ‘And even if I could, that still wouldn’t get us past Calvin. What’s the point of knowing about Tobias if we can’t even get back up to the surface?’

  ‘I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything, but – Seriously Jordan, what choice have we got? What else can we do but go back to the room from the video and see what happens? Maybe it doesn’t have to go the way it did last time. If we go now, maybe you can send me back and I can deliver the message before Peter even knows we’re there.’

  ‘You don’t believe that,’ Jordan croaked. ‘You’re the one who keeps saying that there is no “last time” and “this time”. That it’s all just some big, unstoppable loop.’

  ‘And you’re the one who says it’s all happening for a reason,’ I said, more aggressively than I’d meant to. ‘You’ve been telling me since forever that there’s some unseen purpose to all this. Do you actually believe that, or is it only true when it suits you?’

  Jordan didn’t answer, and on top of everything else, I felt a swell of guilt. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘That wasn’t –’

  But before I could even get the words out, Jordan pulled me to a stop again, stepping in front of me, eyes red and shining with tears. Her hand slipped up through my hair and she brought my head closer and kissed me.

  I let out a sob, torn up and exhausted, sighing into her mouth, the impulse to run vanishing in an instant. My hands laced around behind her back, pulling her to me, and I could so easily have just stayed there like that until they broke through and came for us.

  But eventually, Jordan split apart from me. Her hands slipped down my arms and she stared at the ground between us. For a long time, she was silent. I stood, holding onto her, knowing we should push on but not able to bring myself to do it.

  ‘It’s not fair,’ she whispered.

  Which, even though it was the kind of complaint a four-year-old would make, was actually a pretty perfect way to sum it up.

  We kept moving, neither of us speaking until we reached a little side-tunnel that had been clumsily cut out of the concrete; the pathway out to the last room I was ever going to see.

  Jordan went straight past the mouth of the tunnel and kept walking.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked as she let go of my hand.

  ‘Checking on Calvin,’ she said. ‘Wait here.’

  I ignored her, trailing behind as she slipped up the passageway. Before long, we heard noise up ahead, muffled sounds of concrete on concrete. Jordan flicked off the torch and we continued on by touch.

  After another minute or two, we rounded a corner and I flinched as a tiny shaft of light pierced through the blackness up ahead of us, twitching erratically and then flickering out again. Another torch, shining in through a tiny gap in the wall of rubble. They were quickly getting through.

  I tightened my grip on Jordan as the noise continued. The shifting of debris, and frantic, breathless grunting.

  There was an explosive smash, like a boulder getting hurled into a wall, and one of the guards shouted, ‘Hey! Watch –’

  A roar rose up from the other side of the cave-in, silencing the guard.

  ‘Leave him!’ said Calvin, sounding unusually strained. ‘Let him work.’

  The noise dropped away, a momentary stand-off on the other side of the wall, and then the grunting and smashing started up again.

  ‘He’s clearing the rubble,’ said Jordan, sounding sick. ‘He’s coming after us.’

  Another beam of torchlight shot through the rubble, bigger this time. We had a few minutes, maybe less. Jordan pulled on my hand and we doubled back, running, putting as much space between us and Peter as we could.

  I think we both knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  We weren’t going to change it.

  I was already dead. I had been for twenty years. All that was left was to take back the message about Tobias and hope that my death made some kind of difference after I was gone.

  In what felt like seconds, we got back to the low tunnel out to my murder room. Jordan made a halfhearted attempt to keep us moving past it, but I pulled away from her and crouched at the tunnel’s mouth.

  Jordan made a kind of gasping noise, like she’d started to say something and then given up. I closed my eyes, head spinning, fighting down the urge to vomit, knowing that once I started down that tunnel, I wasn’t coming out again.

  Move, I told myself, with as much resolve as I still had left. Go. Either you die or everyone else does.

  I forced myself inside, not knowing if that was even true, not knowing anything anymore, my mind capable of nothing except pushing me through the tunnel, and hardly even capable of that. My whole body shook like it was coming apart, teeth chattering uncontrollably, arms barely holding me up off the ground.

  Light flashed up the tunnel as Jordan crawled in behind me, torch clutched in one hand. I squeezed my eyes shut again, trying and failing to steady myself, half-expecting her to grab my leg and try to drag me back out of there. But she just moved silently up the tunnel behind me.

  I almost rolled over the edge as the tunnel came to a sudden end. Thanks to Soren’s dodgy excavation work, there was a metre drop down to the ground on this side. I stretched out my arms and crawled to the concrete below.

  Jordan dropped in behind me and flicked off the torch, but not before I caught a glimpse of the dull brown stain smeared out across the floor. My two-decade-old blood, due to be spilled from my body any minute now.

  I shivered in the dark, reaching out to Jordan, pulling her into a hug. Her breath was ragged in my ear, and I felt the moisture seep through the fabric of my shirt as she started crying again.

  I steadied myself against her, soaking up the warmth of her body and the feeling of her arms around me, waiting for the telltale lurch that would signal the arrival of her next vision. Time stretched out.

  And nothing.

  No vision. No anything.

  ‘You have to go,’ I said shakily after a minute. ‘When this is done. When I’m – You have to get out of here and go kick Shackleton’s arse. Get your family out. And my mum. Make sure she’s –’

  Jordan loosened her grip, finding my face in the dark. She kissed me, missing my mouth. ‘Stop it! This isn’t finished! Don’t you dare just lie down and stop fighting!’

  ‘I’m not. But Jordan, you know this is –’

  We sprung apart as an enormous clattering and crashing of concrete echoed along the passageway outside, followed by a triumphant shout from one of Calvin’s men.

  The celebration was cut short almost immediately as a louder, wilder shout rang out over the top of it. There was a split-second roar of gunfire, quickly replaced by a scream from whichever of the guards had been stupid enough to get in Peter’s way.

  Silence fell for just
a few moments before it was broken again by the sound of footsteps hammering up the corridor outside.

  THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 1.33 A.M. 15 HOURS, 27 MINUTES

  ‘JORDAN! JORDAN!’

  Peter’s voice raged up the passageway, sucking the air out of my lungs.

  ‘Wait here,’ I said, reluctantly letting go of Luke. ‘No – wait,’ I insisted, as he moved to follow. ‘Stay here. Let me check it out.’

  I shoved the torch – still off – into my back pocket and clambered into the tunnel again, blinking the tears out of my eyes, scrambling towards the sound of Peter’s voice.

  I’d told him.

  Two days ago, I’d gone to see Peter in his cell and I’d told him all about what we’d seen in the video.

  What if I was the one who’d put all this in his head in the first place?

  ‘JORDAN!’

  A torch flashed on up ahead and I froze at the mouth of the tunnel, thinking he’d seen me. But no, not yet. He was still further up the passageway. I shuffled back a bit, pressing myself low against the base of the tunnel, and waited, grateful that I’d at least had the sense not to tell him where Luke was going to be when he murdered him.

  The torchlight grew brighter, bouncing along in time with Peter’s footsteps, and suddenly he was right in front of me. From this angle I could only see up to his chest, which I hoped meant he wouldn’t be able to spot me without bending down. He slowed, catching his breath, torch in one hand, knife in the other, both arms covered in blood and bruises. He turned in a circle, crying out again. ‘JORDAN!’

  Peter’s torch beam flickered right over the top of me, and I was suddenly struck by the stupidity of what I was doing. If Peter found me, it was going to lead him straight back to Luke.

  But the torch kept moving, flashing back the way he’d come. Peter muttered something to himself, then turned around again, still bellowing my name.

  The sound of his voice faded away. I inched forward again, craning my neck out of the tunnel to see along the passageway. Then someone somewhere stifled a gasp of pain, and I jerked my head back before realising they were a little way off – a guard back up the corridor who’d just collided with something in the dark.

  They were still coming. Hanging back, torches off, keeping their distance from Peter. But Calvin had come here for Tobias, and he wasn’t going to leave without him, which meant –

  A sudden jolt of energy shot through my body, and I leapt out of the tunnel, a wild, reckless idea bursting to life inside my head. I was back on my feet and sprinting after Peter almost before I knew what I was doing.

  I flicked my torch on, no time for caution, ignoring the corner of my brain that kept insisting this wasn’t going to work, that I’d never been able to change the past before and this time would be no different.

  Almost immediately, I saw the light of Peter’s torch dancing up ahead. He wheeled around as I approached, face contorted with fury. But then he saw who I was and his expression melted into one of freakish, singleminded joy.

  ‘Jordan!’

  He threw his arms around me, mashing his lips against mine, tongue everywhere, like he was trying to swallow my whole face. I squirmed, acid rising in my throat, but he just dragged me closer, and I felt the cold handle of his knife pressing into my back.

  ‘Pete –!’ I pulled back, coughing. ‘Peter, not now! They’re coming!’

  Peter’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where’s Luke?’

  ‘Not here,’ I said, determinedly keeping my voice even. ‘Peter, please – I need your help.’

  Suddenly, I had his full attention. ‘What is it?’ he asked, still not letting go of me. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘They’re coming,’ I said again. ‘Calvin and his men. They want –’

  ‘I’m not scared of them.’

  ‘No, I know, that’s –’ I glanced over my shoulder, thinking I’d heard something. ‘That’s why I need you to protect my family.’

  Peter may have been a murderous lunatic, but he was also the only one down here who could protect my family from Shackleton’s security. And he’d do it, too. If he thought it would help prove his undying love for me, he’d do pretty much anything. And if I could keep him busy enough with that …

  Then maybe Luke didn’t have to die. Maybe we could get the word out about Tobias and get Luke out of here before Peter even knew what was happening.

  Peter took a step back from me. He stared down at the knife in his hand.

  I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream at him. ‘Peter –’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, nodding emphatically. He put his hands on me again. ‘Yeah, of course. Of course I will.’

  I broke away from him and took off down the passageway. ‘This way.’

  The panic room wasn’t far off. I sprinted along the last stretch of half-destroyed laboratories, into the moreintact section of the Complex on the other side, with Peter right behind me, panting in my ear like a wild dog.

  I told myself I was doing the right thing, that this was the best way to protect my family and keep Luke alive. But who knew what Peter would actually do when the time came?

  A few metres short of the row of lockers that hid my family, I reached out my hand, bringing Peter to a stop.

  ‘Okay, they’re just down there,’ I said, already bringing up my mental map of the Complex, trying to work out how I was going to get back to Luke without getting caught. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let the guards – Peter! What –? No, stop! Let go of me!’

  Peter’s hands clamped down around my arms, terrifyingly strong. He hauled me down the corridor to the lockers, throwing a door open at random. I twisted under his grip, kicking at him, but it got me nowhere. ‘What are you doing? Get –!’

  ‘Quiet!’ he snapped, shoving me in with one hand and finally letting go. I tried to jump out again, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t move myself forward. Peter was still holding me there, telekinetically pinning me to the back of the locker with his fallout-addled brain. He ripped the torch out of my hand, switched it off and slammed the locker shut again.

  There was a clank of metal on the outside of the doors as Peter jammed something through the handles, locking me inside.

  I stared out through a little grate in one of the doors. ‘Please,’ I whispered, as Peter dropped out of sight. ‘You need to let me out of here. I have to –’

  ‘No,’ he panted. ‘I’m keeping you with me.’

  His torch clicked off, plunging the corridor into complete darkness.

  I slumped down, losing my balance as Peter released his telekinetic hold on my body. I pushed against the doors, but they wouldn’t budge, and I was too scared of attracting the attention of security to try anything that would make more noise.

  ‘Shh!’ Peter breathed through the grate. ‘Shut up. I’m looking after you.’

  For a second, I thought I heard Georgia’s voice from the panic room. I strained my ears, trying to work out what was going on in there, but the sound had already disappeared. I put my face in my hands, barely keeping hold of myself. This was a disaster.

  ‘How are you even going to see them coming?’ I asked. ‘They could be right –’

  ‘I said shut up,’ Peter snapped.

  I heard his feet twist on the dirty ground as a tiny creak of metal sounded behind him. The door to the panic room cracking open.

  ‘Jordan …?’ whispered Luke’s mum uncertainly.

  Peter let out a growl. ‘Where’s Luke?’

  ‘Not here,’ said Ms Hunter, even more nervous now. ‘He’s with –’

  ‘Shut the door!’ I hissed.

  ‘Jordan?’

  ‘Do it!’

  The door clanked shut, and I heard more shuffling of feet on concrete as Peter started after her.

  ‘No, wait!’ I said. ‘He’s not –’

  But the plea was silenced almost immediately by a furious spray of weapons fire. A rifle flashed from somewhere off to my left and Peter cried out, thudding to the ground.


  My heart jolted into my throat. Did he just –?

  ‘Lights!’ Calvin demanded, and a pair of torches cut through the darkness of the corridor. I squinted away, blinded.

  There was a fierce scraping of metal: the locker next to mine pulling away from its place against the wall. I opened my eyes just in time to see it go blurring past me, up the corridor in the direction of the guards. The air was filled with an ear-splitting clatter as the locker was hammered with bullets.

  Peter gasped like he’d been holding his breath, and I heard the remains of the locker crumple to the ground. In the shifting light of the torches, I saw him stumble to his feet in front of my grate, exhausted but apparently unharmed. Then he disappeared again.

  ‘Sir?’ said one of the guards, spooked but still waiting for an order.

  Before Calvin could respond, Peter let out a breathless shout and I heard the locker scrape up off the ground again. The guards cried out and the corridor fell back into shadow as their weapons clattered to the ground.

  ‘Peter!’ Calvin called. ‘Enough of this!’

  ‘STAY BACK!’ shrieked Peter, and the locker on my other side started scraping away from its place on the wall.

  Calvin pushed on, raising his voice over the sound. ‘Do you want to end this? Do you want to protect your friends? Hand over the baby and we will spare the rest. I give you my word they will not be –’

  ‘NO!’ With an enormous crunch, the locker shot across the corridor and slammed into the opposite wall.

  ‘Get back, get back!’ said one of the guards as Peter, still out of sight, lifted the locker into the air again, angling it around to get a clear shot.

  ‘Fire!’ Calvin ordered. ‘Take him –’

  ‘WAIT!’ shrieked a new voice from the direction of the panic room, and I felt my heart crash down into my stomach.

  Peter’s locker dropped out of the air, filling the corridor with a deep, echoing clatter.

  One of the guards found their weapon again, shining their torch in the direction of the voice, and a trembling figure stepped out in front of me, hands above her head. Cathryn.

  No, no, no, no, I screamed inside my head, fists balled up in front of my mouth to keep myself from crying out. No, no, no, what are you DOING?