by Stuart Keane
Alex sighed. "Money creates absolute monsters. The attacks only happened today, and you're already looting on their behalf. You didn't hang about, did you?"
"How do you think wealthy people become rich? They see opportunity before the average person, have a keen eye for the business acumen. We learned from our elders, and we owe it to them to serve them."
"That explains your stunted ideology." Alex placed his hands on his hips. Looked at the fallen frame of Stephen with a fearful eye, the spreading pool of blood. Between a rock and a hard place. He had no other choice.
"So why are we still waiting? Let's go."
Killswitch bit his lip. "There's just one problem."
"Shocker…" Alex said, and trailed off.
He continued, "We can take your friend here, but you cannot come. He's pacified, injured, and we can monitor him until he's healed, and then release him back into the public sector. We can control his immersion into the community. You … no offence, but not so much."
"Release him? He's not a fucking zoo animal."
"That's our condition. Take it or leave it. I think you only have the one option, though."
"It's bullshit."
"It's the rule of our community. Sorry."
"Al … Alex?"
The man turned to the groggy voice and stared at a revived Stephen. The fallen man slowly rolled onto his front and howled as the pain latched onto his partially exposed brain. Alex grimaced as he witnessed exposed skull and cracked cranium, ripped skin and decimated hair, all glistening with a slick coat of red. A thin stream of blood seeped from the wound and dripped to the wooden floor, spattering it loudly.
Alex wiped his face. "Fuck me…"
Slipknot gently placed a hand on Stephen's shoulder. "Stay still … what's his name?"
"Stephen," Alex uttered.
"Stephen, you need to lie still. You suffered a severe head wound. We need to get you some help, okay?"
"There's no … no help, no … no one coming. Silence … nothing happening…"
Alex leaned in. "It's okay, buddy. We found a hospital. We'll get you help."
The man nodded, drool frothing from his chapped lips, and glared at the ceiling with vacant eyes. His head wobbled as he settled down onto his back again. Slipknot shot a glance in Alex's direction. "If we do this, it needs to be now."
Alex nodded. He slowly took a knee and placed a hand on Stephen's shoulder. Felt the coolness of his skin through his shirt, the tremble of his body, and realised it was the first onset of shock. Stephen looked up at him, and smiled. "I know … you."
"Hey, buddy."
"Alex … right?"
He nodded. "You got it."
"We did okay … did okay…"
Alex looked around with a vehement gaze, ignored the three men who'd put Stephen into this state, and the phone shop that housed them. He suddenly hated everything about mobile technology, people's dependence on such a device, and the convenience of communication. He noticed the smeared blood beneath the man, realised the gravity of the situation, and decided to lie. "We sure did."
"I'm glad we didn't … the pub … I'm glad we didn't die in the blast."
"Me too, buddy. Me too."
Stephen gazed upwards, and flicked his glassed-over eyes to Alex. A moment of silence hung in the air. He swallowed, and action that made his Adam's apple bob and jolt. "I'm not … not going to make … it, am … I."
"We're … these men are taking you to a hospital. To make you better. You'll be okay."
"Are you … coming?"
"No, bud. I can't. They have rules at this hospital…"
"Okay…"
Alex felt the prickle of tears behind his somnolent eyes, and closed them. The warmth of the tears cloyed at the lids, and forced him to open them again. A thought crossed his mind. He looked up and addressed Killswitch. "I still want two phones."
"I don't know … the stock is –"
"I'll give you two grand, right now. If you promise me one thing."
"Okay. Which is…?"
"Program my phone's number into the second one, and give it to Stephen here. I won't leave him like this, I just won't. I assume you allow personal phone calls within your fairy-tale land of opportunity?"
"We do. Consider if done."
Alex nodded. "Do it now … please."
"There's a small matter of payment."
Alex slapped at his pockets and quickly withdrew his wallet. He pulled the leather slip open and withdrew thirty in cash, and replaced it. He slipped a gold credit card from its slot, considered the option that the cash machines were still functioning as normal, and tossed it overhand to Killswitch. The man caught it, and narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is this?"
"All I got at such short notice. A six-grand limit, give or take, without this month's petrol purchases. You can take out a grand a day until its exhausted. Consider it payment for his medical care, since you guys are all about the money. The pin is written on the back of the card … I never remember them."
Killswitch pocketed the card. "This better work. I don't like being ripped off."
"You have my number, right?" Alex smiled. "And you have him. I ain't going nowhere until he's up and about."
"Fair enough. Boys, give the man what he wants. We need to be moving on."
Hatebreed scooted behind the counter and started preparing the phone. Slipknot and Killswitch walked off and convened in the corner, near some plastic boxes. Slipknot opened one and removed several objects from it as he spoke.
Stephen reached out with a weak arm and clutched at Alex's wrist. "Say hello … say … hello to Nicky for me. She sounds like a nice girl."
Alex quickly swiped a rolling tear from his cheek. "She is. The best. She would have liked you; made you a cup of tea and probably challenged you to a game of Mario Kart."
"Cheeky cow," he uttered, his voice faltering. Stephen smiled, his eyes lapsing. Alex realised his skin was a sickly shade of pale. Time was running out.
He took Stephen's hand, gripped it gently, and smiled. "I'll see you soon, Stephen. Sir."
"Hey … that's … that's my line, you … you scoundrel."
Alex smiled and blinked more tears away, and watched as Stephen lapsed into unconsciousness. Slipknot walked over with a compact stretcher, unfolded it, and lay it beside Stephen. He looked at Alex. "Don't worry. We'll look after him. Just ensure the money is in that account if you want to see him again … Killswitch isn’t a person to mess with."
Alex nodded and ignored the implied threat, his gaze stoic as Slipknot transferred Stephen's unconscious body to the stretcher with refined skill. He knew the money was there, he had no issues. He just hoped Stephen would survive the move. He turned to Slipknot. "You have a vehicle?"
The man didn’t halt from his procedure. "Yes. And the community is a two-minute drive from here."
Alex puffed out his cheeks, prepared for the worst. "Okay. Okay."
"He'll be fine, trust me."
Alex turned away and walked over to Killswitch, who was conferring with Hatebreed. He got in close, no longer scared of the group leader, and hissed in his face. "If anything happens to Stephen…"
"He'll be fine."
"He better be."
"We gotta go," Slipknot called. "He's not in good shape."
Killswitch placed a hand on Alex's shoulder as Hatebreed moved away, and held out the mobile phone. "All configured, all ready to go. I programmed both numbers into the phones too, so you can talk to your friend over there."
"Thank you."
"It’s not a problem. I'm not a monster, regardless of what you think."
Alex nodded, and slipped the phone into his pocket. Killswitch passed him and proceeded to the open doors. He paused, and chuckled. He turned back to his comrades. "Well, it looks like the heavens have opened. It's really coming down out there. You guys ready to get a little wet?"
Slipknot looked up. "Don't be a pussy. A little rain never hurt anyone."
TWENTY
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The cafeteria door opened into a wide kitchen, a rectangular room installed with an array of glistening metal appliances, and bulky industry units of all shapes and sizes. An optimistic sheen of sparkling silver dominated the vacant workspace, a general sensation that emits from the cleanest of kitchens.
Hannah spotted an eight-burner hob on the counter directly before her, three double ovens lined beneath it side by side, three fryers with pristine metal baskets pinched above them, a ten foot chargrill coupled with a hot plate, and four large fridge-freezers along one wall. The immaculate red tiled floors led to a walk-in freezer at the other side of the room, and turned to an unseen path beyond a rack of metal shelves off to the left. Every surface was constructed from the same, heavy-duty stainless steel, glistening and clear, and meticulously cleaned on a regular basis. The air held a faint smell of disinfectant.
Hannah moved further into the room, both amused and impressed with the layout. Mia followed her, her eyes wide in surprise at the monstrous room before her. A groaning metallic clank sounded above them, breaking both from their amazement. Hannah grabbed an apple from a bowl beside her, and placed it in Mia's hand, in an attempt to keep the child busy. They had to keep moving. "If you get hungry, eat this."
"What about the menu? Hot food?"
"Change of plans, darling. We need to escape, before more of those people find us."
"Sure," she said, a little dejected.
Hannah saw the look on the child's face. It's a shame, Hannah thought. The place is absolutely spotless.
The food is probably good here, if the cleanliness is anything to go by.
I can’t believe we've never eaten here.
And I never will…
"We can get something soon, okay," Hannah blurted, remedying the child's brief disappointment, her mind reeling from the fatal events that had literally consumed her entire life. She winced as she gingerly moved her foot forward, which shot a bolt of white-hot fire up her leg, fully knowing that she could not fulfil the promise to the young girl. She continued, regardless, distracting herself from her impending doom. "Fish and chips sound good?"
Mia nodded, a smile on her face. "And a battered sausage."
"Done."
What are you doing?
What?
You might survive.
You're getting Mia out of here, and you might have a chance.
There might be a cure. There must be a cure.
You'll be lucky. No one knew what was happening down there. How clued in do you think the government are to this … whatever this is.
No, you'll be stripped clean of any flesh before they even consider putting a cure into development.
Clean.
They sure earned their five-star rating for cleanliness, she thought, her petrified mind veering away on a random tangent, and completely wandering from the gruelling task at hand, her thoughts now strangely transfixed on the five-star cleanliness poster that stood proud behind the counter back in the cafeteria. Hannah wobbled forward, the task before her suddenly immense.
She wiped the beading sweat from her forehead, tested her foot once more, an action that left a wet smear on the spotless floor, and moved forward, her shaking hand clasping Mia's. They moved swiftly through the kitchen, and turned left at the end.
Hannah saw the two-way door to an empty service hallway, its middle battered and bruised from multiple collisions with an unseen trolley. She peeked through the small window, and saw a massive gate beyond. She pushed through the door and entered the slim hallway, and couldn’t help but smile.
That was too easy.
Freedom.
We're getting out of here.
"Where are we going?" Mia asked, her young head turning in every direction, assessing her strange surroundings. Hannah ushered her forward, until the child stopped and pulled her hand away. She refused to move another inch, and instead folded her arms.
"Mia?"
"No. I don’t want to go."
"Why? We need to leave, to get away from here…"
"No."
"Mia. This isn’t up for debate." Hannah groaned as she felt the bottom of her foot shift a little. She nearly lost her balance, and placed her hand on the wall beside her. A pang of pain slithered up her thigh. "We can’t stay here, it's not safe."
"I don’t want to leave."
"We need to. We have no choice."
"I don’t want to go home."
Hannah paused, the penny dropping. "Home? Who said anything about going home?"
"That's what always happens. We go swimming, and we go home. I don't want to."
Hannah moved towards the child, and placed an arm around her shoulders. "We're not going home, not yet," she said, half truthfully. The truth was, she didn’t have a plan beyond saving Mia. She didn’t want to consider the potential horror of the outside world right now, the state and downfall of society knowing that the water was doing this to the human form. She hadn't even considered taking Mia home, and suddenly realised she would be escaping into the outside world dressed in only a bathing costume. Regardless, she simply wanted to escape the swimming baths and find help, if possible.
"We're not going home," she repeated.
"Really?"
Hannah nodded. "Yes. We just need to be somewhere other than here."
Mia studied the woman. "Promise?"
Hannah nodded, and fought the burning sensation that was currently gripping her left leg. The slick flesh felt like it was on fire. Another slight shift in her foot urged her to answer the girl's question. She hissed, "Yes. Now, let's go."
They inched along the hallway, their bare feet padding the smooth concrete, and headed for the large gate at the end. Hannah studied their environment. The passageway was empty, all heavy duty concrete floor and thick metal walls, a space primarily used for the mass transportation of goods. Several slim pipes ran along the length of the ceiling above their heads, and Hannah picked up on a routine clank that sounded from within, similar to the one that had rang out in the kitchen. Her eyes fell on the gate once more. The square windows in its metal frame were filled with indeterminable black, punctuated by the jaundice of weak street lights, indicating that the gate led to the outside world and the early evening darkness.
Hannah paused, looked at the kitchen door behind, considered her refusal to help the other people, a refusal that had led to their grisly deaths, and dropped to a knee, easing the weight off her left foot. She felt her toes slipping and scraping away from beneath her, and spotted a dark patch of wetness on the ground.
Shit.
Hannah looked at the young girl before her, and considered her limited choices. She knew her time was running out, and she didn’t want to be caught short. "Mia. I need you to do one thing for me, okay?"
Mia bit her lip, and nodded once.
"When we get out of here, whatever happens – to me, or otherwise, I need you to promise me you'll find your way home."
"No."
"Mia. This is serious. You need to find your parents, to be safe. Those people back there, there will be more of them, hundreds of them outside, beyond that gate," she said, pointing to their destination with a trembling finger. "You need to avoid them, go to the nearest building or get on a bus or find a police man, and ask someone to take you home. Immediately, and do nothing else, you got that?"
Mia nodded, her face scrunched into a 'I don't wanna' look. She grabbed Hannah's hand, which was cool to the touch. "Come with me."
The woman chuckled, wiped dripping sweat from her cheeks. "What?"
"Come home with me. You'll never have to make ends meet again. I'll tell my Daddy you saved my life."
"I can't do that, darling. I need to go home to my parents."
"What about dinner? Fish and chips … and a battered sausage, you promised."
"After that, of course," she said, laying the lies on thick, and deceiving the child further. She closed her eyes for a second, battling her flaming conscience.
You f
eel better for this?
Hannah shook her head and stared at Mia, ignored the choice to give in to those willing blue eyes. "I will come to your house … just not yet, okay?"
"Why?"
Hannah snapped, "Because I'm an adult, Mia. I have adult things to do, places to go. I'm not a fucking child, all right?"
Mia flinched at the outburst, and backed off. She sat down in the hallway, folded her arms once more, and looked away. Hannah shook her head, which knocked droplets of hot sweat from her face. They pattered the floor at her feet as she limped over. "Sorry, darling."
Mia spat, "You shouted."
"I know."
"You never shout at me."
Hannah took a step forward, and eased off her left foot. The pain of the mysterious virus was increasing, and started to probe at the base of her cranium. She felt the first throbbing pangs of a headache, and the prickly irritation of her flushed skin. "I'm angry and annoyed, okay? Not at you, at this … all of this."
"I'm angry too," Mia responded.
"I know," Hannah uttered, now a little weaker. "I know."
Silence fell on them. Hannah hobbled away and stared at the gate.
So close, yet so far.
Go.
Now.
I can't leave Mia.
Why not?
Hannah gasped out loud, offended by such a thought.
It would have all been for nowt. I can't leave her.
She'll get you killed.
You're dead anyway.
This is all that matters now. I won't allow my short life to be for nothing.
A sheer scraping sound shattered her grim reverie, and Hannah spun around, wincing as her weakened foot took the brunt of the abrupt turn. She stared at the long wall on the right, and noticed that one of its many metal sheets was wobbling.
It then fell forward, the metal clanging and bouncing on the concrete. Mia jumped to her feet, and made the short run to Hannah's side. The older woman was ready, unsure of what they were facing. She ushered Mia behind her.
The dark hole that resided behind the metal wall was still.
A minute passed.
Then, Cayden and Aria slowly emerged from it.
I don’t fucking believe this…