Vending Machine Lunch

by Roadbloc

  The smell of burning crept up Johnston’s nostrils. He looked up to see that a section of the wall pipes had caught fire up ahead. For a moment he panicked that the lift wouldn’t manage it past the flames or they’d be incinerated, however it became soon obvious that the flames would simply heat them up slightly at most. The lift shunted it’s way past them, the roaring of the flames distorting Johnston’s ear drums. He coughed. The flames were damn hot, furiously licking up whatever was inside that pipe.

  They passed the flames, the light disappeared under the lift. They were in near darkness again.

  “We’re not gonna get out of this alive. Even if we do send the transmission and get out of here,” gurgled Josh, “The Ninety-Nine will get us. Something as big as this, the Ninety-Nine will want to cover it up and… clean house.”

  “Ninety-Nine?” asked Johnston, lost and thinking Josh was cracking and going slightly insane.

  “The Ninety-Nine. You know, the secret group of Ninety-Nine Enforcers that do the top secret jobs.”

  “No such thing,” snapped Johnston, “I know this government is pretty diabolical, but there is no secret Enforcer unit. There hasn’t been anything as disgusting as that since the Mahusay Na Mundo-“

  “And you really believe that?” cried Josh, “Face it Johnston buddy, whatever is going on here, we’re screwed. We’re out of our depth. The Ninety-Nine will come and clean everything, no-one will be none the wiser. We will simply be erased, never existed, taken off the electoral roll and pretty much taken out of history. No-one will know of this.”

  “It’s nonsense,” said Johnston doubtfully, “Even if what you are saying is true, what do you suppose we do? We have regulations to follow for everyone’s safety and I intend to follow them.”

  “We don’t send the transmission,” was the reply as the lift doors slid open. They were at the communications tower.

  Johnston stumbled out, aware that he only had ten- or was it eight -shells left. He could feel them jangling in his pocket as he walked. Josh followed, a former shadow of his once confident self.

  He was going to reply to what he thought was an inane conspiracy from Josh, however he decided instead just to confirm with Josh that they were going in the right direction. Not that there was much choice, just a dimly lit metal corridor.

  They walked cautiously down, looking at the splatters of blood up the wall. A little further down, in blood, someone had written some words on the wall.

  DIE SUFFER BURN DIE

  Josh thought the jaded writing was terrifying, “Who wrote that!?” he hissed, panicking.

  “Probably the possessed, I don’t know,” replied Johnston, suppressing his lungs and forcing himself not to cough. They had to remain quiet. The last thing they wanted was a gang of the possessed on their head.

  “Sierra Delta Jay to anyone out there. I’ve locked myself in storage vent 12alpha-b. I- I fear something is after me, trying to get in from the other side. Can someone around unlock the door for me before it gets in? Over.”

  “12alpha-b?” questioned Johnston, “That’s at the end of this corridor isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” replied Josh, “Wait- you can’t be seriously thinking to help this guy?”

  “All we have to do is crawl into the vent and flick the unlock switch. We can’t just leave the guy in there.”

  “We?”

  Johnston ignored Josh’s pessimism and pressed the button on his ear piece.

  “Sierra Charlie Johnston to Sierra Delta Jay, myself and Sierra Bravo Josh are in the area and we will be there shortly to let you out. Over and out.”

  Almost instantly, Jacob piped up, “You will do nothing of the sort Johnston! You will get that transmission sent as soon as possible and then haul your arse back to the entrance hanger. You hear me? We will get Sierra Delta Jay out of the storage vent after…”

  “Yes Jacob I hear you,” said Johnston, fury rising in his chest, “And I’m afraid you have no authority over me. We will be retrieving Sierra Delta Jay from the storage vent and then continuing to send the transmission.”

  “Johnston! Sending the transmission in a code red is a level one priority when the exterior lights are functioning properly, never mind when they aren’t functioning properly! By delaying the transmission you endanger the lives of everyone in this facility.”

  “Let me remind you that we are only in this situation in the first place because of your inconsiderate folly!” snapped Johnston down the com-link, “Now we will be retrieving Sierra Delta Jay from the storage vent before one of the possessed gets him or he dies of air starvation. And there is nothing you can do about it! Over and out!”

  They had now reached the door to enter the communications offices. To the right of the door, on the corridor wall, was a ladder leading to a small metal grill. The grill was hanging off slightly; it hadn’t been fitted on properly. This was the vent that lead to the storage vent chamber.

  “You cannot be serious about this,” whispered Josh.

  “Oh, not you as well,” coughed Johnston, “Well I’m guessing you’re not going crawling in then.”

  “Am I hell!” replied Josh, “This was your idea! You go and save the guy!”

  Johnston sighed and began up the ladder, “You’re all heartless,” he uttered as he removed the grill and entered the small vent.

  Johnston had expected to have a wave of cool air hit him inside the vent. When that didn’t happen, he sat upright, feeling slightly nauseated again. He looked down at the unfriendly metal sight, which slowly disappeared into darkness. Making sure his emergency weapon was ready and taking a deep breath, Johnston began shuffling down the vent on his bum cheeks, the light slowly fading as he continued.

  The vent was noisy, despite Johnston trying to remain quiet. The slightest movement turned to an almost deafening boom thanks to the sound reflecting metal that the vent was constructed with. Turning a corner, Johnston was now plunged into complete darkness. He stopped, pausing to breathe and regain his strength and nerve.

  A ghostly silence fell upon him, the noise from his movements had continued reverberating a while, before decaying to a range inaudible by Johnston. He breathed a little more, sucking in air into his poor abused lungs. Johnston suddenly realised he was terrified. Sweat was dripping from his head, his heart was pumping loudly, he felt sick and faint.

  “Jay? Jay? You still in there?” he murmured down the com-link.

  “Yeah mate. You couldn’t hurry up could you please? I-I’m certain something is h-here…”

  “Don’t worry, just, one, minute,” Johnston felt very sleepy, he was slowly sliding down into a lying position, “I’ll… I’ll… be… there…”

  “Mate?”

  Shallow breathing got shallower. Johnston’s vision blurred. How ultimately tempting it was just to let go, forget it all, go to sleep. He’d wake up in his unpalatable flat with nothing more than another day fighting the continuous ego battle with Jacob. It suddenly dawned on Johnston on how miserable his life was. But compared to current events, it seemed like bliss. His sad miserable existence of working, smoking and sleeping sounded distant and somewhat desirable. Johnston felt that at that moment, he would have given a lung to go back to that pathetic amoeba-like lifestyle. Oh how he missed his pit of despair.

  “Johnston mate, you need to hurry up! Something’s here- something’s- ...”

  Johnston bolted up, still feeling nauseated. The panicking voice down the com-link kicked him back to life. He felt oxygen spread across his body as his weak veins worked overtime thanks to about twenty years of adrenaline being used for the first time. The vent echoed in reaction to his reaction to Jay’s pleas.

  “Johnston! It’s here! Oh gawwd, what the fu- … - what the? HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME!”

  Fighting back tears, Johnston forced himself into motion down the pitch black vent towards the vent storage chamber, as the blood curdling screams of pain erupted from his com-link ear piece. He tried to block them out and concentrate on ge
tting to the grill that was preventing Jay from getting out of the vent storage chamber.

  “Oh Christ! It’s alive! It’s alive Johnston! It’s everywhere! It’s fire! It-“

  The com-link cut dead.

  Johnston hurriedly got to the grill and looked inside the storage chamber. There was no-one there. Blood was smeared everywhere, some of it had even seeped out of the grill and onto Johnston’s knees. He was too late.

  Grabbing the grill with both hands, Johnston sobbed. A burning sensation crept to his palms and with a jolt, Johnston leaped back from the grill, tears still pouring painfully. The grill was burning hot. Johnston stared at his burnt hands, tears dripping on them.

  “Johnston?” it was Josh.

  Johnston didn’t even hear, his head was racing. Why was the grill so hot?

  “Johnston!? You there?”

  Johnston didn’t hear again. Ignoring the transmissions received from his ear-piece, he continued to sob. He had been so close. So damn close! Why had he stopped when he did? Why had he rested? He was furious with himself; anger and rage exploding round his body. It had all been for nothing! He’d failed! And he had also endangered the lives of everyone else trapped in the facility by delaying the sending of the emergency transmission.

  “Johnston goddammit! Answer me!”

  He snapped back to reality, “What?”

  “Oh thank God! I thought you were dead! I didn’t want to crawl in there and get the transmission card from your remains.”

  “Do ever think of anyone but yourself? Shut up and wait for me. Don’t you worry, you’ll be able to see your beloved Jaimie soon, not that she’ll ever have an interest in you, you flop haired freak. And by the way, Jay is dead, I was too late. Thanks for asking you heartless knob.”

  Johnston knew that his comeback sounded pathetic, weak and child-like, but he didn’t care. It had been a bad day. Crying all the way, Johnston shuffled his way out of the vent.

  He apologized to Josh when he got out.

  “I’m sorry Josh. I didn’t think. I was just angry. It’s all my fault, I took too long,” Johnston was still crying.

  “It’s okay, it’s my fault. I guess I forget that we’re all scared here. I’m sorry for being selfish,” Josh grabbed Johnston’s leather and blood coated shoulder affectionately, “Thanks for announcing I love Jaimie over the com-link anyway. I’m gonna get a tonne of abuse for that.”

  He smiled through tear filled eyes. Johnston followed suit.

  “I’m surprised Jacob didn’t give us a lecture about com-link etiquette,” said Johnston, chuckling and coughing slightly.

  They both stood there for a minute, an awkward silence as they both recouped their thoughts. They were all pessimistic.

  “Right. The transmission,” Johnston said.

  “Right.”

  They entered the Communications Office. It was a large room, with one control desk at the centre of it. The room looked unusually clean, as though it hadn’t been touched by the invasion of the possessed.

  Johnston strode to the control desk and observed its CRT monitors. One was blank, claiming no input feed was available, the second displaying inane statistics and figures and the third stating that an emergency transmission card was required. Johnston grabbed the card from his jacket pocket.

  “Wait.”

  It was Josh. Johnston spun around to see he was holding is emergency weapon at him.

  “J-Josh!? What are you doing?” exclaimed Johnston.

  “I can’t let you do it Johnston buddy. I just can’t. The Ninety-Nine, they’ll kill us all.”

  Johnston couldn’t believe it. He had had enough. It had been a hell of a day, he wanted a tobacco stick and he wanted to go home.

  “Get that weapon out of my face!” he yelled, raising his own weapon, the emergency transmission card still in his hand, “Are you gonna shoot me?”

  Josh looked doubtful, “Think about it Johnston! Do you really think the government will let something as big as this slip into the public? Think of all the conspiracies that exist today! This will just become another one!”

  “You’re nuts!”

  “I don’t want to shoot you Johnston, just don’t put the transmission card in the slot. Think about this! The entire facility will unlock, unleashing this hell upon everyone! Maybe that was the real aim of this facility, to clean up everything? Either that, or we’ll have the Ninety-Nine on our arses. We’ll be evaporated from the land.”

  In-between them, both sweating it out and aiming guns at each other’s necks, the CRT monitor that once claimed it had no input feed flickered on. It was Jacob.

  “Johnston! What’s keeping you? Put in the card now!”

  “He’s not doing it Jacob,” said Josh to the CRT monitor.

  “He can’t see or hear you, you know,” said Johnston, feeling pressure rise in his chest.

  “What do you mean he can’t, of course he can. Some monitors have lenses on them,” said Josh.

  “I can see and hear you Johnston,” said Jacob, his tone cold and unfriendly, “Now this is an order, insert the card into the slot. Now.”

  “Don’t do it.”

  “Ignore him. Obey orders.”

  “Ignore him. Obey common sense.”

  “Shut up! Just shut it both of you for one second!” screamed Johnston. His chest felt unbearably tight.

  Both Josh and the CRT fell silent. There was a pause, mostly filled with Johnston wasting time.

  “Don’t do it,” uttered Josh under his breath.

  Jacob heard. “Johnston, you are instructed to obey orders.”

  “If I don’t, what do we do?” Johnston uttered in return to Josh.

  “Johnston, might I remind you that disobeying orders under an emergency situation will result in an immediate dismissal of your job and your public rights.”

  “We run and hope to God they don’t find us.”

  “Not to mention the sanctions received by disobeying orders of an employee higher in the hierarchy than you-“

  “For the last God damn time!” yelled Johnston, “You are not above me you moron! Get off your fricking high horse and put them pom-poms down! You are not above me!”

  He shot the CRT monitor, cracking the lens and screen. There was a bang as the electrical equipment inside the CRT short circuited and sparked.

  Johnston slipped two more shells into his weapon.

  “Thank you,” breathed Josh, “Thanks for believing me-“

  “What in the land makes you think I believe you?” Johnston snapped, “I don’t want to be dragged into your world of inane make believe conspiracies. Now get that God damn weapon out of my face or I’ll shoot you!”

  He raised his weapon back in aim. Josh didn’t move.

  “Don’t call my bluff,” Johnston snarled.

  Josh continued his silence, keeping the gun aimed at Johnston, as though he was trying to pick up the nerve to shoot him.

  “Final warning,” said Johnston.

  Still no reaction from Josh.

  Johnston shot Josh, the shells hitting his knee cap. Just like Fat Jerry had done, Josh collapsed to the floor, this time with a scream of pain. Johnston kicked Josh’s weapon out of reach.

  “I’m sorry Josh,” he said over Josh’s moans of agony, “But I want to have my dose of tobacco and go home.”

  Johnston slammed the emergency transmission card into its slot. The CRT monitor that requested the emergency transmission card began displaying a wall of text that Johnston didn’t understand before displaying acknowledgement that the card had been inserted into the docking slot.

  !! == Emergency Transmission Card Detected == !!

  Uploading Emergency Transmission Data…Done!

  Processing Emergency Transmission Data… Done!

  Authentication Key… Done!

  Sending Transmission… Done!

  Thank you for using Deimos Facility Processing Systems.

  Union Aerospace > Umbrella.

  The CRT screen then
jumped to a live camera image of the exterior of the facility. It was there, bold as brass on the CRT monitor, the red lights had just activated, however, something was wrong. The facility was surrounded by people who looked vaguely military, all in formation around the perimeter of the cylindrical structure, all illuminated in the ghostly red light.

  Johnston leapt back from the CRT monitor. The Ninety-Nine? The thought spread across his head like a disease. His thoughts turned back to the moaning Josh, still on the floor in unbearable agony, blood seeping everywhere. Had he been right? Had Josh and his bizarre conspiracies been right? Johnston was in no situation to be able to count the figures on the CRT screen, but it looked like they all had weapons.

  He stared at his emergency weapon. The small copper panel that held the number 0110 gleamed at him. He had shot Josh for no reason. He had been right.

  “I… told… you… so…” Josh uttered, looking ready to faint from the pain, “I… told… you… they… were…”

  “Oh God Josh,” said Johnston, throwing his weapon down and crouching down to his level, “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

  “You made the right choice Johnston,” Jacob’s arrogant, cold voice came through the com-link ear piece, making Johnston jump, “Now come to the Entrance Hanger. I have something you’ll want to see.”

  “Yeah, a bullet for my head,” said Johnston, ripping off the ear piece, “C’mon Josh, we need to get out of here. There is a back way I know of. We can sneak out of that and then get you some help.”

  “No..”

  “What!? C’mon, we can make it. I can do this, I can help you!”

  “I’d… slow… you… down…” hissed Josh with the little energy he could muster, “Get… out… oooohh… it… hurts… Johnston… the… possessed… are… the… Requiem…”

  “No way,” Johnston stifled tears, “No way. I’m not letting you die here. You’re gonna make it out with me. And you’re gonna see Jaimie. And you’re gonna tell her you love her. And you’re gonna have fifty God damn kids with her, do you hear me!?”