Does it Hurt to Die

by Anderson, Paul G

  ‘Why would you want an ageing, infirm population?’ said Isabella, peering over his shoulder, before turning to look at something which had caught her eye at the end of the bank of computers. ‘Christian, isn’t that the folder that your father had hidden and which was stolen from us the other night?’

  Christian looked in the direction that she was pointing. ‘It does look like it, Issy. Grab it and bring it over here.’

  As Isabella retrieved the folder, the doors opened and standing in the doorway was Van der Walt. Two pistols added to his already considerable menace.

  ‘You’ve done well to get this far, but from the time you entered this room you were monitored. Lie on the floor.’

  Christian, standing towards the end of the bank of monitors, knew with what they had discovered they would not be allowed to live. As one of the white supremacist guards accompanying Van der Walt moved towards Mike and Willem, Christian dived, taking Issy in a rugby tackle. They landed behind the computers unhurt, Isabella partly on top of him. Then they heard the thud of bullets hitting the computer console behind them. Christian, still crouching, looked behind the computer bank. The emergency door could be an escape for them. He dived with his shoulder at the door. It sprung open and he could see it was the animal laboratory, but as he pulled Isabella in behind him, everything went black. He could not see his hand in front of his face. He could not see Isabella, although he could feel her next to him. He whispered to her to hold on to his leg as he crawled in a direction that he thought was deeper into the laboratory.

  In the darkness of the laboratory, it was the monkeys who were making the most noise, screeching overwhelmingly in a confined space. Christian reached around in the dark, feeling the front of the cages; he could feel the violent shaking as the terrified animals attempted to understand what was happening. He stopped and reversed back wondering what to do next, and then he saw something that added to his fear. Out of the intense blackness, there flicked a weapon’s laser light; Van der Walt had survived and was still looking for them. Christian sunk to the floor and tried to slow his breathing when he felt a hand grip his shoulder.

  ‘Christian, it’s Mike,’ he whispered. ‘I have Isabella. Stay down.’

  Christian could not see him but lay still.

  ‘Van der Walt is still in here,’ Mike whispered in his ear. ‘When you dived over the computers, Willem shot both guards and then the main frame, which put the lights out. Van der Walt is still here.’

  ‘How did you find us?’

  ‘We came equipped with night vision goggles anticipating we may have to cut the electricity supply.’

  The rest of his sentence was interrupted as the animals started screeching again and the light from Van der Walt’s gun indicated he was making his way around the computer bank.

  ‘Quickly,’ said Mike, ‘release all the animals you can.’

  Christian felt for the cage handles, hoping Mike knew what he was doing. Then he heard the screeching change; it was now coming from all parts of the room as the monkeys ran wild. It had obviously startled Van der Walt as well. Three or four bullets crashed into the room above their heads. He heard one of the monkeys cry out and he felt it fall to the ground next to him. Perhaps Van der Walt was not startled, he thought; killing animals was just another part of killing he enjoyed.

  He felt Mike back beside him. ‘It’s only momentarily slowed him,’ he whispered to Christian. ‘Did you get the bloody big orang-utan out?’

  ‘I opened the door, but he just stayed there.’

  ‘Damn,’ said Mike, ‘that might have really slowed him down.’

  The red laser flashed above their heads again. Van Der Walt was moving in their direction.

  ‘We’ll wait until we can no longer see the light. That’ll mean he’s at the door. There’s a door at the back of this lab that I can see when that light goes out and we’ll have a few seconds to get there. You’ll need to hold on to me and Isabella on to you.’

  ‘We’re ready,’ said Christian. ‘You just say, “go”.’

  ‘When he gets to the door I’m going to fire a shot behind the cage of the orang-utan,’ said Mike. ‘Hopefully the orang-utan will bolt right out of the door Van der Walt is trying to come through.’

  Mike waited a few seconds and fired his pistol. The whole cage shook and Christian saw the huge black shape head for the door. In the commotion that followed, they tumbled through the rear door. Christian checked behind him with Isabella. She was holding his hand tightly and appeared to be unhurt. Maybe it was the determination they had inherited that would keep them alive.

  Christian asked Mike, ‘Do you know a way out?’ as they crawled through the door.

  ‘No, but there must be. They wouldn’t bring the animals in through the computer room.’

  As they hurried forward, he could feel Isabella squeeze his hand. He squeezed back realising how difficult it was for her, as she had to blindly follow in the darkness. They turned left, partly out of instinct. A further fifty metres on, Mike brought them to a halt. A door led from the rock wall, but it had no handle. Christian could just make out its rectangular shape in the green light, but even feeling with his hands he could find no handle or bar to open it.

  ‘Let’s keep going,’ he said. ‘The next one may have a handle.’

  As they advanced, Christian glanced back in Isabella’s direction. What Christian saw over her shoulder caused his heart to race. It was the flicker of red light. Van der Walt had made it past the orang-utan and was coming after them.

  ‘Here’s another door,’ said Mike.

  ‘No handles either,’ said Christian. ‘Perhaps they’re all like this and only open from the inside.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Isabella, who had been exploring the doors with her fingers. ‘There’s something near the top left hand corner.’ As Christian went to examine it, they heard the sound of Van der Walt’s footsteps reverberating down the tunnel.

  ‘Hurry,’ said Isabella.

  Christian turned to Mike. ‘It’s a slot. Isabella was right. It’s probably smartcard operated like the others, so let’s hope it doesn’t require iris recognition.’

  ‘Let’s try this,’ said Mike, reaching inside his pocket and bringing out the guard’s smartcard. Within milliseconds, they heard the sound of the lock engaging and light flooded their tunnel. They tumbled through and pulled the door closed behind them. As they did so, the unmistakable sound of gunfire reverberated down the corridor and they felt the bullet strike the door.

  ‘How are we going to stop Van der Walt coming through?’ Isabella asked.

  ‘There’s only one way,’ said Christian, ‘but it’s risky and timing is the key.’

  They both looked at him, Isabella amazed at his coolness and that he might also have found a solution.

  Christian’s studies in biometrics in his school holidays were proving very useful.

  ‘The gate is electronically controlled. It processes the information from the smartcard. However, it will recognise only one set of details. If another card is entered from this side at the precise moment Van der Walt inserts his card, the computer will be confused by two sets of information to process and will be unable to authorise both. It will reset to its default position and the door will remain locked … I think.’

  Mike looked at him. ‘We have to try it,’ he said, ‘otherwise in a minute or two he’s going to be through that door and my gun may not be enough to save all three of us.’

  He pressed his ear to the door and signalled to Christian to be ready with the card. Christian heard the scratching sound as Van der Walt located the opening. As he heard the card being inserted, he waved his hand and pushed the card home. They both heard the lock start to move, and, with what seemed like an interminable time, click back into place.

  ‘That’s my boy. Let’s get out of here.’

  Ahead of them, they could see a number of holding pens in a big barn. Cages in several of the pens were visible and Christian could see a number
of animals in them. He was wondering about letting them out when Isabella, who had spotted a golf buggy, walked over to it and switched it on. It was a modified version of the one that they had used in the underground tunnel. The two rear seats had been removed and a large cage was in their place.

  ‘I couldn’t dislodge the trailer,’ she said, looking at the second large cage that the buggy pulled behind.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Mike. ‘Christian can sit in it.’

  They all laughed, their tension momentarily eased.

  ‘Isabella, you drive,’ Mike said as the three squeezed into the front seat.

  ‘What if we see someone?’ said Isabella.

  ‘Just ignore them,’ said Mike. ‘It’s Sunday and only the essential personnel will be here.’

  ‘So, did you have enough time to find what you wanted?’ said Christian as Mike told Isabella to turn left at the next junction.

  ‘We know that they have three programmes for the development and production of chemical and genetic weapons. The Ricin that was used to kill a Bulgarian dissident in London we think came from this lab. The anthrax that was distributed in the United States was thought to come from one of two laboratories in the world: the first is Russian in the Crimean peninsula and the second, in Fort Berrick, Maryland in the United States. It came from neither and so the search was on. The only tenuous link was a biochemist in the United States who had a South African PhD. He was white and had lived in and around Potchefstroom but had become a strong follower of an extreme radical whites-only group in the USA.’

  ‘There,’ said Mike, interrupting his own conversation, ‘Verwoerd Drive, turn left.’

  Isabella turned into the brightly lit main thoroughfare, but as she did so, she caught a small movement out of her right eye. Both Mike and Christian responded to the direction in which she was pointing and spotted another golf buggy at the far end of Verwoerd Drive. There were two people in it: one was standing, the other driving, although the cart was not moving.

  ‘It’s Van der Walt,’ said Christian. ‘Why is he not chasing us?’

  ‘Get down,’ shouted Mike as the first shot crashed into the buggy. Isabella crouched lower and kept her foot to the floor, peering intermittently above the dashboard.

  ‘He’s not worried about us escaping, so he’s taking his time; standing still gives him a better shot.’

  The shots were inconsistent from Van der Walt, as though he was playing with them. He was undoubtedly such a good shot, Christian thought, that he could have killed them. Instead, it appeared he was enjoying the fear that he was creating.

  ‘How far is it to the lift?’ said Isabella nervously.

  Mike quickly glanced over the dashboard.

  ‘Half a mile, keep going.’

  As they crouched, Christian saw Mike offer a small smile. ‘What was that for?’ Christian said, feeling confused considering Van der Walt was stalking them.

  ‘Galela’s come down with us and is waiting at the lift; he’s more than a match for Van der Walt and has a few old scores to settle.’

  ‘Why isn’t he firing at Van der Walt then?’ said Christian.

  ‘He’s waiting. He knows Van der Walt better than any of us. I have a feeling in a strange way your father’s death is to be avenged.’

  ‘Slow down, Isabella,’ Mike said as they approached the lift.

  Galela emerged from the back of the lift and indicated to Isabella to park the golf buggy directly in front of it. As soon as they all got out of the golf buggy Galela positioned himself behind it.

  Chapter 33

  Inside the lift, Christian noticed what appeared to be a strange combination of a lawn mower and motorcycle.

  ‘What are those?’ he asked Mike.

  ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ he said as more gunfire was exchanged. The sound of Galela’s gun reverberated around the lift and overwhelmed all other sound.

  ‘Those are what are called monkey climbers. They’re fifty cc petrol engines. Those two wheels attach to the lift cables. It has a throttle like a motorcycle, and this seat folds down for you to sit on.’

  The sound of gunfire again interrupted Mike’s explanation to the point Christian had his ear right next to Mike’s mouth to hear what he was saying. ‘We anticipated that if we got this far, they might cut all electrical supplies and this is the only way we’d get out,’ Mike shouted.

  Gunfire again broke out and suddenly there was complete darkness. Christian reached for Isabella and grasped her hand and then felt Mike pushing the night vision goggles into his other hand. He handed them to Isabella.

  ‘We have four,’ shouted Mike over the noise of another volley. ‘I’ll help you up through the hole in the top of the lift and then pass up the monkey climbers.’

  As they climbed through, they heard Van der Walt’s voice reverberate in the darkness. ‘Black dog, prepare to die in a black hole.’

  Galela looked at Mike, and Christian saw him make a cutting motion across his throat. ‘Leave him. He’s going to die down here. Leave him,’ said Mike.

  ‘Come, black dog, come out and fight like a man,’ was the next taunt that drifted out of the darkness into the lift.

  Christian could sense little movement in the darkness, and Galela appeared not to be taking Van der Walt’s racial bait.

  ‘Can’t black dogs see in the dark?’ Van der Walt said. ‘Come out and die like a man or you’ll die like the dog that you are in there.’

  Christian watched as this time Galela stood up and then lifted Mike through the ceiling of the lift to where they were crouching. Mike indicated to Christian to hold him by the legs. He then reached through the opening and gestured to Galela one last time to join them. Christian could see, in the murky greenness below, Galela standing on the bonnet of the golf buggy, which he had rolled back and jammed into the lift for extra protection. Van der Walt would not be able to use the lift to come after them even if he was able to restore the power, he thought.

  ‘Leave him. He’ll die here and we need you,’ Mike pleaded.

  Suddenly Christian felt Mike pull back and, as he did so, Galela appeared through the opening.

  ‘Good decision,’ Mike said in the darkness in the direction of Galela as they turned their attention quickly to the monkey climbers.

  They attached the monkey climbers to the steel ropes of the lift and started the engines. The noise in the confined space was overwhelming and Christian heard Isabella cough as the exhausts built up. Mike quickly folded down each of the little flat steel seats and then, when they were all seated, gave the thumbs up to open the throttles. Christian’s climber started with a slow jerk, but he and Isabella were soon ascending smoothly, the four-stroke engines drowning out everything but the loudest shout.

  Christian kept glancing below, expecting to see flashes as Van der Walt worked out where they had gone and attempted to follow. He then briefly wondered what would happen when they got to the surface. Mike had talked about setting explosives to destroy the underground laboratories and training centre. Christian imagined, though, that there were significant stockpiles of chemical, biological or perhaps even nuclear weapons, and it would need considerable explosive power to generate sufficient heat to ensure no possibility of dispersal or survival. He remembered from chemistry that temperatures of over one thousand degrees centigrade were required to destroy some chemicals. He estimated that, at the rate they were climbing, it would take them another twenty minutes to get to the surface and then another hour before the explosion.

  Christian checked above him hoping to see the tiny speck of green light getting bigger. It seemed no closer than when he had previously glanced up a minute ago. To his right he could make out Isabella just above him, with Mike and Galela just below. When he looked down, beyond Galela, he saw a flash of orange and then felt enormous pain in his left shoulder followed by the sound of a bullet striking the lift wall close to him. The pain intensified and he could feel a warm and wet sensation around his shoulder.


  ‘Mike, I’ve been shot,’ he shouted above the noise of the engines.

  ‘Where?’ Mike shouted back, indicating to them to cut their ascents.

  ‘In the left shoulder.’

  ‘Can you hang on for the last four hundred metres?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Christian as they heard another bullet bounce off a wall close by.

  As he looked down, he could see further very rapid orange flashes.

  ‘He’s trying to shoot through the cables,’ shouted Galela.

  ‘Christian,’ said Mike as he drew alongside, ‘you’re the maths/physics guy. We’ve been travelling ten minutes so that’s six hundred metres and this stun grenade weighs one and a half kilograms. How long would it take to reach the lift below?’

  Christian looked at the grenade that Galela held in his hand. It was rounded and oblong with indentations. Given that terminal velocity would be reached within fifty metres, Christian estimated that the six hundred metres would take two and a half seconds.

  ‘Two and a half seconds,’ he announced.

  Galela nodded agreement as Mike indicated he would drop the grenade on Van der Walt below. Mike handed a stun grenade to Christian as Galela indicated he had his own.

  ‘They have nine-second fuses. Pull that pin and drop them when I get to six; they then should have just reached the top of the lift and not give Van der Walt a chance to get rid of them.’

  Christian got ready to follow Mike’s instructions when Isabella’s monkey climber bucked and shook, nearly dislodging her from her seat. Van der Walt was applying pressure to her steel rope from below, sending wave after wave towards Isabella.