Doomsday

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Doomsday Page 23

by Chris Morphew


  Amy cringed away, looking appalled.

  Calvin’s hand came down on my shoulder. ‘Jordan …’

  I twisted out from under him, shivering all over, no idea what I was even doing anymore, then stopped, seeing a gleaming silver door and realising where we were.

  I spun back to Amy, delirious. She was still pressed up against the wall.

  I lost my balance and collapsed, pain spiking through my kneecaps as they smashed into the cold floor. I thrust out my hands just in time to catch myself, chest heaving, throat clenching up, and there was a disgusting splatter as I emptied my stomach out onto the hospital floor. Not that there was anything much to empty.

  I hung there, all pain and no vision, gagging and drooling and wishing I could just hurry up and black out, fingers clawing the ground as the world spun around me, Tobias suspended grotesquely from my chest, corpse swaying in the sling.

  Hands came down on either side of me, keeping me from collapsing any further. When the feelings finally subsided, I was dragged to my feet, rested against the wall. My chest heaved, throat stinging with bile.

  Amy’s face blurred into my field of vision. ‘Jordan …’

  I couldn’t even dredge up the will to focus my eyes.

  ‘Jordan,’ she snapped, grabbing my face with both hands. ‘Listen, I – I don’t pretend to understand why this has happened to us. But I know what I’ve seen. What we’ve seen. I know what the fallout gave me. And maybe I forgot all that for a while when I suddenly lost my powers, but that doesn’t make it untrue. This wasn’t all an accident. You know that. One way or another, this isn’t – I don’t think this is the end.’ ‘Tell that to my brother,’ I said, stumbling towards the door. Calvin swiped a key card and the door clunked open, into a tiny room with a trapdoor set into the floor. I followed him inside.

  Amy trailed after me. ‘What if that’s –? I mean, what if his death meant more than you think it did?’

  ‘Fallout’s gone now,’ I said, bending down to activate the trapdoor. ‘None of this means anything.’

  ‘You say that,’ said Amy, ‘but you keep moving forward.’

  A hiss of compressed air cut through the room, and a square of the floor sank down and rolled away. Calvin checked to make sure I was actually coming, then started down the stairs underneath.

  ‘Don’t give up,’ said Amy, as we headed down after him. ‘I know you want to, but –’

  BLAM!

  The sound blasted through the tiny room, so loud that for a second I was sure it was me who’d been shot. But then Calvin pitched forward, tumbling to the foot of the stairs.

  Amy screamed, backing up. Not even close to fast enough.

  BLAM!

  She shrieked and fell down on top of Calvin, blood blossoming under her ribcage.

  Adrenaline fired through me, blowing away the cloud over my mind. But instead of trying to escape, something kept me moving down the stairs, even when I saw the woman striding across the room to meet me.

  Dr Galton, white with surprise, draped in a bloodstained lab coat. She raised a gun to my face with perfect precision.

  BLAM!

  I reeled back, but there was no pain. No blood.

  What …?

  Calvin had Galton down on the floor, arms wrapped around her legs. Blood pooled under him. Galton brought her pistol around again, aiming it down at Calvin’s head.

  ‘NO!’ I cried, leaping down the last of the stairs.

  Calvin thrust out his arm, too late to knock the weapon away.

  BLAM!

  He slumped down on top of her.

  An animal roar exploded from my throat. Galton dropped her hands to the ground, dragging herself free, but I was on her before she could get up, one hand at her throat and the other clamping down on her wrist.

  Galton’s pistol clunked to the floor. She snarled up at me. ‘You think you can –?’

  I spat in her face. ‘Shut up.’

  There was a whimpering moan behind me, and I glanced back to see Amy twisting around to face us. Blood glistened through the front of her jumper, no more fallout to stop the flow. But as her eyes locked on to mine, a smile spread across Amy’s face.

  Galton shifted under me, hijacking my attention. She shot me a smile of her own as she eyed the sling hanging down between us.

  ‘What are you hoping to achieve here, Jordan?’ she asked, nose wrinkling at the spit sliding down her cheek. ‘If it’s Shackleton you’re looking for, you won’t find him. He’s locked himself in the bunker with your family and your boyfriend. He’s not coming out.’

  ‘Not even for his daughter?’ said Amy weakly.

  And for the first time ever, I saw fear flash behind Galton’s eyes. ‘Shackleton doesn’t have –’ she began, but she broke off into a grunt as I flipped her over, pinning her down on her face.

  She was weak, I realised, reaching for her gun. Without her powers from the fallout, she was nothing. And with that realisation, a fierce energy welled up inside me.

  Whatever happened tomorrow, whoever was still around to see it, I knew there was no place for me there. Not anymore. But until then, I had work to do. If there was another way to stop Tabitha, or to at least do something to keep my family safe, I couldn’t just sit here and let it slip away.

  Amy groaned again. I hesitated, but she shook her head as adamantly as she was still able to. ‘Take her. Somewhere he can’t send someone else to get you.’

  ‘No, I’m not just –’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ gasped Amy. ‘Drag me upstairs and operate? Go!’

  I faltered for just a few seconds longer before finally pulling away.

  ‘Come on,’ I grunted, yanking Galton to her feet and digging her weapon into her back. ‘Your dad thinks it’s fun to screw with people’s families? How about we go find out how much he likes it.’

  THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 4.24 P.M. 36 MINUTES

  ‘Luke,’ said Shackleton, waving me over to the couch. ‘Come and take a look at this.’

  I glanced up from my seat on the bed and felt Mum’s arm tighten around me. We were huddled together in a little group with Reeve, Katie and the Burkes, keeping as far as from Shackleton and his goons as we could.

  The two guards who’d survived our initial firefight stood watch on either side of Shackleton, rifles raised.

  The other one lay on the bed at the end of the row with a sheet pulled over his head. Soren and Miller were stretched out on the beds next to him, both drifting in and out of consciousness, their makeshift bandages slowly darkening with blood.

  Hawking was still alive. Not happy, but alive. We’d hoisted her onto the couch opposite Shackleton and done what we could to stop the bleeding. Cathryn hadn’t left her side since. Tank was perched next to her, a hand on her shoulder. For the past hour, he’d been moving back and forth between our side and theirs, split between his loyalty to her and his loyalty to Reeve.

  And through it all, Shackleton had just sat there on the couch, smiling around at us, like this was all just something mildly interesting he was watching on TV. He’d sent van Pelt across the room a few minutes ago to pull out a laptop, and was now hunched over the coffee table, attention flashing every few seconds to whatever was on the screen.

  I kept waiting for something to happen, for some new terror to sweep in and shake everything up again. But I guessed we were past that. The cards had all been dealt now and everyone was just hanging here in this weird limbo, waiting for the end.

  I couldn’t even find the energy to freak out about it. I mean, obviously I didn’t want to die, but after everything with Peter this morning, the idea of doing it all again just seemed painful. I was so exhausted already. Too burnt out to even process anything properly. If this really was the end, then I just wanted it to be done.

  ‘Come now, Luke,’ said Shackleton again, his voice a tiny bit harder this time, ‘there’s no need to be childish.

  I have good news. I believe I have located your father.’

 
Mum’s grip tightened again. ‘Luke, don’t …’

  But I was already pulling to my feet, frustrated at being so easily manipulated but unable to pass up what might be my last chance to catch a glimpse of my dad. I guessed I still had energy to spare for some things.

  ‘Drop the weapon,’ snarled Officer Cook, eyeing Tank’s pistol, still heavy in my hand.

  ‘Oh, let him keep it.’ Shackleton waved the threat away like it was nothing. Like I was just a dog who’d got into something he wasn’t meant to be eating. He gestured at the laptop screen as I approached. ‘What do you think, Luke? Is it him? How desperately does your father wish to see you again before this is all over?’

  Cook stepped aside as I approached. Shackleton patted the cushion next to his. I ignored him, snatching up the computer.

  It was some kind of satellite map, with Phoenix in the middle and the wide expanse of wasteland stretching out all around. A little huddle of triangles were edging slowly in from the top of the screen.

  Aircraft.

  A rescue party.

  For one flickering moment, hope sparked inside me. And then it was gone again, snuffed out by another thought. Whoever was out there, they were as dead as the rest of humanity. Mr Weir may have deactivated the automated defences, but even if they made it to Phoenix, Tabitha was going to shred them alive before the hour was out.

  Unless Shackleton was wrong about Tobias. Or unless he was more of a threat than Shackleton was letting on. But would Shackleton really just be kicking back in his bunker if he thought there was even a chance that Jordan might succeed?

  ‘Yes,’ Shackleton nodded at the resignation on my face. ‘Too little, too late, I’m afraid. They’ll drop out of the sky a good half-hour before they reach us. Still,’ he shrugged, ‘you certainly have to admire their –’

  He paused, raising an eyebrow as a burst of classical music rang out from his pocket. An even deeper hush seemed to fall over the room as Shackleton drew out his phone. Over his shoulder, I saw the name on the screen.

  Aaron Ketterley.

  Jordan.

  I lunged, heart exploding against my ribcage.

  ‘HEY!’ Cook’s fist balled up around the scruff of my neck, yanking me backwards, and Shackleton pirouetted to his feet.

  ‘Manners, Luke,’ he said, holding up an admonishing finger. He answered the call, tapping the speakerphone button. ‘Hello?’

  ‘JORDAN!’ I yelled.

  Loud, shaky breathing on the other end of the line.

  Mr Burke jolted to his feet, snatching the rifle from Katie’s lap. Reeve and the Weirs jumped up behind him. Cook shoved me aside and swung his rifle around, the other guard following suit. I could see on their faces how little they liked their chances.

  Shackleton ignored them all, focus set on the phone in his hands.

  ‘Jordan,’ he said calmly. ‘Is there something I can –?’

  ‘I’ve got your daughter,’ she growled, finding her voice.

  The contented look on Shackleton’s face wavered just for a moment before the mask went back up again, but it was enough for me to see that the threat had hit home. Whatever warped mockery of affection Shackleton was actually capable of showing another human being, he was showing it to Galton.

  There was someone in this world that he actually cared about. And that made him vulnerable.

  Hawking and van Pelt’s heads snapped up at Shackleton, wearing matching looks of incredulity. Apparently not even they knew about him and Galton.

  Shackleton stared back at them, calculating. ‘Let me speak to her,’ he said finally.

  ‘Fine,’ said Jordan. ‘Come out of your bunker and –’

  ‘Now, Jordan,’ Shackleton ordered. ‘I’ll remind you, you are not the only one with a hostage.’

  ‘We’ve got him outnumbered!’ I shouted at the phone. ‘If we have to, we can –’

  ‘No, Luke,’ Shackleton ducked down, snatching up his pistol and stabbing it at me, ‘you cannot. Kill me, and you kill everyone else in this room.’

  ‘Anyone else starting to think maybe that’s not such a bad idea?’ said Mr Weir.

  ‘NO!’ screamed Jordan, and I heard what sounded like a strangled gasp from Galton on the other end of the line. ‘Nobody –!’

  ‘Let her go, Jordan,’ said Shackleton, the veneer beginning to crack again.

  ‘Let my family out of there!’

  Shackleton turned slowly, bringing his gun around to face Mr Weir. ‘I understand your anger, Jordan. Truly, I do. But we both know you’re not a murderer. You’re not going to –’

  ‘I just killed my brother!’ Jordan roared, with a fury that startled even Shackleton. ‘You don’t know what I’ ll do!’

  A stunned, breathless silence swept out across the bunker. Mr Burke spun to face Mrs Burke, still huddled with Georgia on the bed, then back to me, searching for an explanation. And whatever fear I’d been nursing as we’d sat trapped in this place, it had nothing on the mutilating despair that crashed over me now. I stared around the room and saw the same thing mirrored on the faces of the others. Defeat.

  ‘Jordan …’ her dad began shakily.

  ‘No!’ sobbed Georgia, breaking away from Mrs Burke, her tiny voice swelling to fill the room. ‘No, no, no, he’s not meant to die! He’s meant to win! He told me!’ She crumpled on the floor. ‘He told me!’

  Shackleton glanced down at her, and a new look passed over his face. Again, just a flicker, unreadable, then gone.

  ‘If that’s so,’ he said, lifting the phone closer to his face, ‘if your brother is dead, then you must already know you have failed. The question you should now –’

  ‘FINE!’ shouted Jordan, hysterical now. ‘Fine! I’ve failed! Now what about you? You want to see your daughter again or not?’

  And in a rush, I felt tears surging up into my eyes. What had Calvin done to her out there?

  ‘Let me speak to her,’ said Shackleton again.

  ‘No! You don’t get to –!’

  ‘Either you let me speak to my daughter or this conversation ends here.’

  A moment’s pause, and then Jordan let out a frustrated growl. There was a scuffle of movement and, from slightly further away now, Jordan snapped, ‘Talk.’

  Shackleton, turned again, like he was trying to find somewhere where no-one could see his face. He quickly gave up. ‘Tori?’

  ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Will she do it?’ Shackleton asked.

  ‘I –’ Galton broke off into a spluttering cough.

  ‘I don’t know. I think she might.’

  Shackleton glanced up at me, both of us thrown off-balance by the fear in her voice. I spent a horrible moment wondering what Jordan could possibly have done to Galton to get that kind of reaction before my mind clicked to the other side of the equation: Galton wasn’t a superhero anymore. Almost her whole life, she’d been just a thought away from crushing anyone who got in her path. Suddenly, all of that was gone. Of course she was terrified.

  ‘Where are you?’ Shackleton asked.

  There was another burst of shuffling as Jordan snatched the phone away again.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, between shallow breaths, ‘you’ve talked to her. Now here’s what you’re going to do. You let my family out of there, and then Luke and my dad are going to bring you to the top floor of the Shackleton Building. You’re going to tell us how to stop Tabitha, or your daughter is going to die.’ I glanced back at Jordan’s mum, my stomach turning at the pain on her face.

  ‘Noah!’ Galton shouted. ‘We’re up on the med–’

  She broke off with a grunt as Jordan barked, ‘Quiet!’

  ‘Enough!’ said Mr Weir, pushing past Jordan’s dad. ‘Either you do what she says or –’

  ‘Not your father,’ said Shackleton into the phone. ‘He stays. If you wish to meet, it will be just Luke and myself, both of us unarmed.’

  He knows I’m dead when the time runs out, I thought. All he needs to do is run down the clock and then
he can call for backup.

  No response from Jordan. I could hear her crying into the receiver.

  ‘That is my final offer, Jordan,’ said Shackleton.

  I wiped my eyes, looking to Mr Burke again. He was a wreck. We all were. Hanging in suspense, transfixed by the tinny speaker in Shackleton’s hand as Jordan gasped for breath, steadying herself to speak.

  When she finally did, it was low and fierce, more animal than human.

  ‘Get up here.’

  THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 4.43 P.M. 17 MINUTES

  Shackleton snapped the phone shut. ‘Back on the beds,’ he said, gun still fixed on Mr Weir. ‘All of you.’

  ‘Not happening,’ Mr Weir snarled.

  ‘Brian …’ said Mrs Weir, lowering her weapon to reach for him.

  He shrugged off her touch. ‘You want to let him lock us up again?’

  ‘Boss?’ said Tank, standing up, looking to Reeve for instructions.

  ‘Don’t think we have much of a choice,’ said Reeve. ‘Clock’s ticking. If there’s a hope left, it’s with Jordan, not us.’

  ‘I think it would be best if we all relinquished our weapons,’ said Shackleton. He set his pistol down on the coffee table, like maybe we needed a demonstration.

  I came around and put my gun down with his. Then I grabbed Shackleton by the back of the collar, snatching the phone from his hand.

  Reeve shrugged off his rifle, and Tank followed his example. One by one, the others reluctantly laid down their weapons, until only van Pelt, Cook and the other guard were still armed.

  ‘Don’t kill anyone unless you have to,’ Shackleton told them. ‘I want to hold onto them until tomorrow morning’s coronation ceremony.’

  ‘Yeah, brilliant, wouldn’t want to miss that,’ Mr Weir muttered, leading his wife back to the beds. Reeve and Mr Burke trailed after them, whispering, while Tank pulled a wailing Cathryn to her feet.

  Van Pelt nodded at the guards, and they closed in on the beds.

  I glanced at Mum, barely able to hold my eyes on her agonised face. Probably only fifteen minutes left now. Chances were this was the last time we would ever –

 

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