Blood Ransom

by Sophie McKenzie

  ‘It’s a vascular scanner,’ I said. ‘It’s reading your blood. Which is the same as Elijah’s blood.’

  As I spoke, the green lines flashed and the screen shone with a steady glow. A second later, the concrete door slid open.

  Theo glanced at me. He looked exhausted. There were dark rings under his eyes and grime mixed with smears of blood on his face. And then he grinned and my heart lurched with how gorgeous he was. Even in the middle of all this danger.

  ‘After you,’ he said.

  88

  Theo

  I followed Rachel into the – what had she called it? – the bunker.

  Our footsteps sounded loud on the concrete floor. The low ceiling meant I had to stoop slightly. Dim light from the open door revealed a set of stone steps leading down to a dark corridor.

  There was no sign that anyone else was down here.

  Ahead of me, Rachel was limping.

  ‘What happened to your leg?’ I asked.

  ‘Hurt myself getting away from the house,’ she said.

  I remembered the voices I’d heard earlier. ‘Who were you talking to?’

  ‘Milo.’ Rachel reached the stone steps and peered into the darkness below. Along the short corridor another door was visible.

  Behind us, the bunker entrance started slowly closing. I glanced round, checking that there was a screen matching the one outside that we could use to get out. There was.

  ‘Milo’s in the woods?’ I whispered. ‘But he might have seen us . . . he’s probably calling Elijah right now to tell him we’re down here.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Rachel whispered back. ‘He’s too scared . . . too scared of upsetting me to call Elijah.’ She paused. ‘Though he’s also too scared of Elijah to help me. He was probably watching us outside the bunker, though.’

  A shiver ran down my spine. Great.

  ‘You do know that I made that up about liking him, don’t you?’ Rachel said softly.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’ve got you figured out. You’re like that door back there. Confusing until you understand how it works.’

  ‘And you know how I work?’ she said with a smile.

  ‘Yeah. You’re stubborn, full of stupid ideas and you’d rather stick pins in your eyes than ask anyone for help,’ I said.

  ‘So just like you then, don’t you think?’

  I stared at her. ‘What I think is that we need to hurry up and get on through that door.’ I pointed down the stairs.

  Rachel nodded, and we crept down the concrete steps. The door here was similar in style and width to the sliding door at the bunker entrance.

  ‘Careful,’ Rachel whispered. ‘If Elijah is working with other people then they might be through here.’

  We stood either side of the door. Holding my breath, I tensed, ready to defend myself once the door opened, then held my hand against the screen attached to the wall.

  Nothing happened.

  I examined it more carefully. The screen on this door was much smaller than on the door above and positioned above it was a key pad. My heart sank.

  ‘Now we need a pin number,’ I said. ‘Man, and we’re really running out of time, too. Why couldn’t this door be like the one upstairs? Weirdo blood scan machines are my new speciality.’

  ‘Well, cracking four-digit codes is mine.’ Rachel grinned. ‘Watch.’

  89

  Rachel

  2509. The code Amanda Lennox had given me worked. We stood on either side of the door as it slid open.

  ‘Elijah uses three different kinds of security in that place,’ Milo had said.

  I tensed, ready to attack if anyone – or anything – flew out at us.

  But no one appeared. And there was no sound from inside the room, either.

  After a few seconds I peered round the door. The room beyond was empty and still. It was some sort of lab.

  A long table stretched through the middle of the room. Shelves to the side were ranged with microscopes and packets and jars of all sizes. A small box stood in the middle of the table. It was filled with rows of microscope slides. Each one contained a red smudge.

  I limped over and took a closer look. The slides were all neatly labelled with a time and a date and the letters Art.

  Theo came up behind me. ‘What does Art mean?’

  I thought for a second. ‘Artemis,’ I said. ‘My code name.’ I stared at the times and dates again. ‘These are my blood samples. This is where Elijah’s been testing my blood for Eos.’

  ‘For what?’ Theo asked, examining another box on the ground.

  ‘The Eos protein. Elijah’s been trying to copy it.’

  ‘Right.’ Theo gave up on the box. He followed my gaze round the room and sighed. ‘This doesn’t make sense. All that security, just to shove a few slides under a microscope? He could have done that in the house.’

  I nodded. ‘There isn’t even a computer in here.’

  Theo walked past a huge bookshelf, laden with what looked like scientific and medical text books, to a tall cupboard in the corner.

  ‘So why does Elijah want to copy this Eos protein?’ Theo said. ‘What’s he going to use it for?’

  ‘I don’t know, but Amanda Lennox said it was for something terrible.’

  As I spoke I remembered how she’d urged me to ‘kill it’, and shivered. What on earth had she been referring to? There was clearly nothing else here.

  Theo was examining the contents of the cupboard.

  ‘Anything?’ I said.

  ‘Oh yes.’ Eyes shining, Theo turned to me, a laptop computer held proudly in his hand.

  ‘This has to be it,’ I said, clearing a space on the table for him to set the laptop down. ‘This has got to explain everything.’

  Nodding, Theo put the computer on the table, opened the lid and switched it on.

  It took a few seconds to warm up, then the main desktop screen appeared.

  It was empty, apart from the HD icon in the corner. Theo clicked this open, but all it revealed was the usual list of folders: Application, Library, System, User Guide. Theo clicked each one in turn, but they all just contained basic computer info, though the list of apps and software programmes was enormous.

  ‘It’s like it’s just come from the shop, all loaded up and ready to go,’ he said, looking bemused. ‘Why would Elijah keep a brand new computer in his cupboard?’

  I slumped into the single chair at the table. My ankle throbbed with pain. There must be something here we were missing. But what?

  90

  Theo

  It didn’t make sense. I paced round the lab, trying to work out why Elijah had built himself such an elaborately secure unit just to run basic blood tests.

  ‘There aren’t even any interesting-looking chemicals here,’ I said, taking in the bottles on the shelves. A few were labelled with names that looked like they came off the periodic table, but they were all empty and, anyway, I had no idea what the names meant. The woman in the shop had said Elijah bought a special chemical – some kind of acid. Where was that?

  ‘I don’t get it.’ Rachel limped over to the sink in the corner of the room. She turned on the tap but it just vibrated, making a low chugging noise. No water appeared.

  ‘The pipes can’t be connected up,’ I said.

  That was weird, too, wasn’t it? I’d never been in a science lab that didn’t have running water before.

  I examined a big tank set into the wall between the bookcase and the sink. It was labelled Hydratoroxide. What was that for?

  Rachel went back to the table and sagged into her chair. She rested her head in one hand and checked her watch. ‘He’ll be back in ten minutes, and we haven’t found out anything.’ She sounded completely defeated.

  I bit my lip. Most of me just wanted to insist that we left while we had a chance, but the words Rachel had said outside, about Elijah, were still echoing in my ears.

  It’s up to us to stop him. For good. Right here. Right now.

 
Despite my anxiety for her safety – and my own – I knew she was right. We’d been living in fear since we escaped from the Washington complex last year. That had to end. And this was our best chance to end it.

  I picked up the laptop again. It was a Vaio – a state-of-the-art model. Why would Elijah keep an ace computer in here with no data on it? Unless . . .

  ‘Maybe he downloads the data onto something when he leaves the bunker,’ I said. ‘That’s why the computer’s empty, but loaded with apps and software.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘Then where’s the download?’

  ‘I don’t know. Man, it could be anywhere.’ I groaned. ‘It’s probably on him.’

  ‘Okay, but he must keep a backup here.’ Rachel looked round. ‘This is his safe place . . . it has to be here. It wouldn’t make sense for him to take all the data out of this bunker.’

  I followed her gaze round the messy room. I was standing close to the large bookshelf that occupied the end section of the wall. I pulled out several rows of text books, but no storage device emerged, so I turned my attention to the cupboard next to the sink. This was crammed with all sorts of scientific bits and pieces: from syringes and Bunsen burners, to a selection of rubber gloves in varying stages of disrepair.

  No sign of a CD or a USB flash drive.

  My guts twisted into knots. The data Elijah had downloaded could be hidden anywhere. Across the room, Rachel picked up a sheaf of papers from the table and shook them. Nothing fell out. She turned away, heading for the cupboard next to the table. I let my eyes travel round the room. If I were Elijah, which I genetically was, where would I hide something? Where was the last place you’d expect to find a fragile container of top-secret scientific data?

  My eyes rested on the water tap above the sink. A water tap with no water.

  Of course.

  I strode over to the sink and turned the tap on again, hard. Again the pipes juddered and gurgled, but no water came out.

  ‘Something’s blocking this,’ I said. I bent down, under the sink. The switch behind the U-bend pipe immediately below the bowl was switched to the ‘off’ position.

  ‘Why are you looking there?’ Rachel sounded incredulous.

  ‘Elijah’s turned off the water supply for some reason,’ I said, examining the pipe. I grabbed a pair of rubber gloves off the table and twisted the nut positioned just above the U-bend. I knew there would be water in the bend itself but what about just above that?

  With a grunt, I wrenched the nut off. It released more easily than I expected, as if someone had loosened it recently. I shoved my fingers up the tube above. There. A small package was taped to the inside of the pipe.

  I yanked it out and held it up. It was a memory stick in a plastic bag.

  ‘Whoa!’ Rachel’s eyes widened.

  Quickly, I ripped the bag open and pulled the top of the stick. I found the usb port on the side of the laptop and slid the memory stick in.

  A long list of files opened up. Rachel and I scanned these together. Very few of the file names made much sense to me – most of them had long, complicated chemical-sounding names.

  ‘There.’ Rachel jabbed at the screen. She was reading a little further on than I’d got to, pointing to a file labelled Eos.

  I clicked it open. It was a log, written like a blog with each entry dated. I scanned the top few reports – an incomprehensible mix of apparently random letters and numbers.

  ‘Oh my God, look at that entry.’ Rachel gasped. I followed her gaze to the bottom of the screen. It was dated the day after Rachel went missing – the day she arrived on Calla.

  Today I have proof that the Eos protein is real. It heralds a revolution in biotechnology. If I can extract the protein and prevent its cells mutating, then I am just a few short steps away from creating a bioartifical implant that should prove flexible, biocompatible, and, ultimately, relatively inexpensive to synthesise. This brave new dawn is the elixir the world has been waiting for. Its implications are as great, if not greater, than my original work with somatic cell nuclear transfer. Eos – literally – is life. It is youth. It is wellness. And it is within my grasp.

  ‘What on earth does that mean?’ I said.

  ‘I’m not sure exactly,’ Rachel said. ‘But I think it’s something to do with helping people stay young and healthy. Milo said something about Eos “saving lives”.’ She frowned. ‘I still don’t understand what Amanda Lennox was talking about when she said he was doing terrible things in here . . . I mean, what’s so terrible about copying a protein that can help people be healthier?’

  I looked round the room. ‘This can’t be all there is,’ I said. ‘There must be another room where he’s carrying on other experiments.’

  ‘Where?’ Rachel was gazing round too. ‘There aren’t any other doors.’

  I glanced back at Elijah’s log. ‘When did you arrive here?’

  ‘Three days ago.’

  I looked at the corresponding date. That was where the strange initials and numbers began. The first line of the first entry read: I am the word.

  ‘Why does he have to be so bloody mysterious?’ I read the sentence out loud. ‘I am the word. I mean, does that make any sense to you?’

  ‘I think it’s from the Bible,’ Rachel said. ‘Maybe it’s a password. We’ve had a scanner and a key pad . . . Milo said there were three sorts of security in here.’

  I looked round. ‘But like you said, there isn’t another door, or anything that you could type a word into.’ I sighed. ‘And even if there was, we wouldn’t know which word to use.’

  Rachel stared at the log again. ‘I am the word . . . It’s got to be a word Elijah uses about himself.’

  ‘There are quite a few I’d use about him,’ I said. ‘Murderer . . . egomaniac . . . arsehole . . .’

  ‘No, something personal,’ Rachel said.

  ‘What like a name?’ I said, feeling doubtful. ‘His surname is Lazio, but I don’t think . . .’

  ‘Maybe it’s a name from the Bible.’ Rachel checked her watch. Her face paled.

  I gritted my teeth, we didn’t have time for this.

  I shook my head. ‘But Elijah could have any number of names. We don’t even know his real name. He told me once that he changed it when he was young—’

  ‘That’s it!’ Rachel’s eyes brightened. ‘You’ve got it. It’s a name he took for himself.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ I said, bewildered. ‘What name?’

  ‘It’s got to be his Greek God code name,’ she said.

  I stared at her. ‘You mean Zeus?’

  As I said the name, a creaking noise filled the room.

  ‘What’s hap—?’ Rachel’s hand flew to her mouth. She pointed behind me.

  I turned. The bookcase was shifting . . . groaning as the shelves rumbled apart, sliding away from each other.

  ‘It was a password,’ I breathed. ‘A voice-activated password to . . .’

  ‘Oh my God.’

  We stared as the bookcase slid along its tracks, opening wide to reveal another room.

  91

  Rachel

  It was dark in the secret room beyond the lab. Impossible to see properly what was inside, though there was no sign of movement. I crept towards the door, the pain in my ankle barely registering. Theo hesitated. He looked round, his eyes falling on the chair on the other side of the table.

  ‘I’m going to shove this chair in the doorway,’ Theo said, ‘in case the door tries to close on us.’

  I nodded. ‘Good idea.’Whatever was in the room, I didn’t fancy being shut in there with it.

  As he picked up the chair, I crossed the threshold, then stopped. I stood still, trying to identify the shadowy shapes all around me. There were tables of varying sizes. The nearer ones were cluttered with jars and bottles . . . Further away I could just make out the outline of another table with high sides. Whatever was on the table was concealed from view. My heart beat wildly.

  This was it . . . what the Eos pro
tein was really all about. Elijah had secured his work behind three doors and an electric fence. And now I was going to find out why. Another step forward and the motion sensor registered me. Lights flickered on.

  I gazed round the room, trying to work out what I was looking at.

  The jars and bottles appeared to contain human body parts. I walked over to the nearest table. Yes , there was an ear . . . and there was a hand . . . I gagged. It was disgusting.

  Feeling sick, I checked the label on a small jar that contained a slice of something flat and greyish.

  Ap 9 – liver section

  Okay, so this was part of a liver. Ugh.

  I glanced at the jar that contained the hand. The label said: Ap 5. I looked along a row of bottles, nausea swelling inside me. Each one contained a roll of something that looked like dried-out pork meat.

  Ap 2 – skin tissue

  Ap 4 – skin tissue

  Ap 8 – skin tissue

  I limped to the next table. A similar assortment of jars and bottles. I tried not to look at the contents too closely while I checked each container. Everything on this table was labelled as before, though several of the cases were far bigger . . . I couldn’t help but notice what was in them.

  Ap 13 contained a whole arm, Ap 19 what looked like the side of a face and a shoulder and Ap 22 held a faceless torso . . .

  Horrific.

  What was all this? And why was Elijah keeping it here?

  I glanced round. Theo was still busy trying to wedge the chair in the doorway. I really wanted to wait for him to look at what was behind the screen on the next table, but our time was running out fast. Elijah would be back in less than ten minutes now.

  I limped over. The screen that rose up from the edge of the table was labelled Ap 24. Holding my breath, I peered over it.

  No.

  My brain took a few seconds to register what I was seeing.

  I retched.

  Lying on the table was the top half of a male human, down to the stomach. The body was normal size but hideous . . . deformed and twisted, the skin tapering off at the guts. It was impossible to say how old he was. The pallid, greying face was grotesque, with the nose missing and the closed eyes all slipped sideways down the face. There were no arms . . . just little skin buds where arms should be. The only part of the body that looked remotely normal was the mouth.