Balthazar’s sardonic tone returned, “Do I look like an angel to you? It was them or us. Simple. Most of us are tired, we’re weak. Half of us can’t remember what our home looks like. We only know it’s better than this. Even the remaining fey would rather head to our realm than be stuck here. All I did was what was necessary to get us all the hell out of here.”
“So you worked with the Pryces. They promised to send you home. Once the barrier was down they were supposed to open a portal to send you back.”
“Quick on the uptake, aren’t you?”
“And now they’ve double-crossed you and your Monster Liberation Front.”
“My what?”
“Your group.”
“Dumb name. We’re called the Alliance, and they’re not mine. I’m just one soldier.”
“Whatever. The point is they’ve double-crossed both of us.”
“Never trust a human,” Balthazar muttered, “Which reminds me, what are you? Your blood smells funny. Like you’re one of us but you aren’t.”
Before I had a chance to reply, the metal door was unlocked and opened.
I gawped as a diminutive creature stepped through the door. Like us, he was dressed in an orange jumpsuit. He stood about three and a half feet tall, his large feet were shoeless and covered in fur. A small tail, similar to a monkey’s, poked out of his behind.
You’ve barely scratched the surface of this new world you’re living in, Victoria had said.
She hadn’t been kidding.
The creature’s wizened skin was a dark shade of brown with a tinge of green to it. He used a walking stick, and moved like a tiny old man. Huge, pointed ears sprung from either side of his head. His nose was a long hook and little sharp teeth pushed up from beneath his bottom lip. He looked at the pair of us with sleepy, ancient eyes.
Seeing the way I was gawping, Balthazar commented, “First time you’ve seen an actual goblin?”
I nodded dumbly.
“Try not to stare. They’re surprisingly self-conscious. Body image issues.”
I tried to close my mouth and stop gawping. I failed.
“Well, this has been an exciting week,” the wizened goblin said, “I do declare, not seen anything like it for a long time. So many new residents, so much upheaval. I’m George. I’ll be your Orientation Officer for this evening. Or morning. Please follow me. You’ve been allocated rooms but the governor wants to see you. The new governor, I should say. My, my, quite a week it has been indeed.”
We followed George onto a balcony that overlooked a textbook prison. Two floors with a large central mess area in the middle, gantries lining the sides to allow access to the cells on the second floor. The doors to the cells were simple, iron bar structures, with no privacy. Through my increasing disbelief, I noticed that George had a large set of keys. We walked along one of the gantries. Most of the lights were off and the prisoners were sleeping, but I could see bulky shapes in the dark that weren’t human. A stray, scaled tail here. A clawed paw hanging out from a bed there.
I felt like I’d stepped into an unholy hybrid of The Lord of The Rings and the Shawshank Redemption.
Victoria’s promise of sanctuary had been another one of her lies. She’d spent years collecting the scrappy remnants of supernaturals that hadn’t been killed by Section 19. Then she’d locked them up and used them as lab rats. I’d seen the white room where Marian had been murdered. Each and every one of the prisoners here had spent time there being poked, prodded, cut, starved, tortured, injected. You name it, they’d had it done to them.
“Did you know about this?” I asked Balthazar.
He shook his head, “Do you think if I’d known the Pryces were keeping prisoners, I’d have gone along with their plans?”
“Oh, no, no no no,” George said, “No, not prisoners. Residents. Mustn’t call us prisoners.”
“So you can leave?” I said.
“Oh, no,” George replied, “It’s far too dangerous out there. Besides, the Pryces need us. For their experiments.”
“So you can’t leave and you get experimented on?” I said.
“Certainly sounds like being a prisoner to me,” Balthazar said dryly.
“Where are we going?” I asked
“I told you, to see the governor. The new one. Oh, yes, we had some excitement here a few days ago. Oh yes indeed. New resident showed up and well, I can tell you there have been some changes since he took over. Food has been rationed, no more fighting between the different gangs. All very exciting.”
“Wait, what do you mean, the governor?”
“He’s the head resident. Keeps the rest of us in line. Makes sure we go to our procedures when we’re called up, keeps things smooth. We’d had the same one for over ten years, an angel. The new guy, well, he’s been here not ten minutes and he asks to see the governor to pay his respects. Then he beat him to a bloody pulp, threw him off the gantry and asked the rest of us if there were any questions. Never seen anything like it in all my time here. Brutal, it was. Utterly brutal. Still, things have been settling down now. Getting back to normal, I suppose.”
“And we’re going to meet him?” I said.
“To pay your respects,” George nodded, “It’s the done thing.”
“How long have you been here, George?”
“Oh, hard to say. Maybe fifteen years, maybe twenty.”
This wizened creature had been trapped in this prison as long as I’d been alive. The thought staggered me. Over the years his mind had snapped, and he’d become a willing co-conspirator in the Pryces’ charade of sanctuary and protection. Institutionalised in every sense. There were no visible guards in the prison. I wondered if they patrolled during the day, or if they only turned up to drag prisoners away for another round of torture and experimentation. I wondered what the punishments were for disobedience and attempted escape.
“Right, then,” Balthazar said to me, “I guess you and me better start our own little revolution, hm kid? Differences to one side for the moment and all that? We can set ourselves up as the new governors as we figure a way out of this.”
“Yeah,” I drawled, “You aren’t going to want to try to take the new governor down. Bad idea. Trust me.”
Balthazar looked at me with a puzzled expression. Once again I was one step ahead of him, and I was enjoying it. I’d figured out who the new governor was, of course.
“Here we are,” George said.
The cell we’d been led to was unlocked, a privilege of being the governor. A figure stood in the shadows at the far end of the cell. He glanced up as Balthazar and I entered, nodded at me.
“Welcome to hell, son,” he said in a soft Scottish accent.
Chapter Forty Nine: Best Enemies
Major Wilson had seen better days. Dark shadows below his pale grey eyes gave evidence to the lack of sleep he’d had since I last saw him. His face bore bruises and his orange jumpsuit was torn, presumably sustained in his fight with the former governor. What struck me, weirdly, was that his moustache had been shaved off. In amongst all the madness and horror I’d witnessed and experienced, it was an odd detail to fixate on. It just seemed somehow fundamentally wrong. Major Wilson, stripped of his moustache.
“I warned you about her,” he said.
“You did,” I agreed, “Shortly before you executed a man in cold blood.”
Wilson short, stocky frame stood to attention. Ready to launch into a fight at any second, without warning.
“Who are you?” he asked Balthazar.
“Your worst nightmare,” Balthazar growled as he launched himself at Major Wilson. He shifted into his demon form as he did so, ready to break Major Wilson’s neck, or gut him.
It was over pretty quickly.
I leaned on the door frame as Major Wilson blocked Balthazar’s initial punch, pummelled him with three fast, sharp counter punches, and then twisted him into a vice-like armlock.
“I’ve got four ways to kill you from this position alone,” Major Wilson
said as Balthazar’s eyes bulged in agony. The sudden pressure was threatening to break his arm. Wilson threw Balthazar to the floor. He landed at my feet, gasped, spat, checked to see if his arm was broken or not. It wasn’t. I wondered if Major Wilson was going soft.
“Told you,” I said.
Balthazar ignored me and got to his feet, his face flushed with rage, eyes burning red.
“I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done. You and your damned Section 19.”
“Maybe you will,” Wilson said, “but not today.”
George had been watching from behind me, cowering. Presumably wondering if this week would involve a second coup. It wasn’t. Balthazar knew he was beaten. Major Wilson hadn’t so much as breathed heavily as he’d dealt with his opponent, never mind break an actual sweat.
The cell had two steel beds in it, but I gathered Major Wilson didn’t have a cellmate. He sat down on one of the beds. Indicated I should sit on the other, opposite him. I stepped past Balthazar and sat down. Major Wilson’s eyes stared at a point somewhere around the back of my skull. My eyes stared at a point somewhere around the back of his skull.
Tense seconds passed as we stared at each other, both willing the other one to flinch.
“So the serum worked,” I said, without taking my eyes off his.
“It did something,” Major Wilson replied.
We continued to stare each other down, unblinking. Not saying another word. From the corner of my eye I could see Balthazar and George watching us, their heads turning to me and then to Wilson, as if watching a tennis match.
I’m not breaking, you son of a...
It lasted nine or ten seconds. It felt like hours. Pinpricks of sweat formed on my brow. I resisted the urge to wipe them away. Focussed on a point through Major Wilson’s eyes, at the back of his skull.
Wilson’s lip curled up ever so slightly, then he broke eye contact and sat back. Folded his arms and almost smiled. Almost.
“Did she ever tell you about her parents?” he asked, his tone relaxed. I knew he meant Victoria. Despite my jackhammering heart, I tried to adopt a more relaxed pose.
“Died in a fire, didn’t they?” I said. Cautious. Conversational. Not sure what to expect from him. I wasn’t even sure what he was anymore. Had the serum turned him? Was he a werewolf now? Or was he like me? A science experiment, a synthetic monster? I wanted to ask, but knew I’d get nothing out of Wilson if he didn’t want to give it.
“In their beds, in their house in London,” Wilson nodded, “The fire was proven to be arson, but they never found who started it.”
“What’s your point?”
“There was a strong suspicion the senior Pryces – the parents - were killed before the fire. They didn’t wake up, didn’t try to escape, even though there was plenty of time for them to do so. A neighbour saw the fire, tried to alert them, but couldn’t get into the house. There was enough noise to wake them up though.”
I saw where this was going.
“You think Victoria had her parents murdered to get the inheritance. Pryce Industries, all their wealth.”
“The police investigated Victoria. She was their prime suspect. Nothing was ever proven.”
“Naturally.”
“I did warn you,” Wilson said.
The clock was ticking. Kate and Dee were out there somewhere. The Pryces were putting a lunatic plan into motion. I needed to get Wilson onside and fast.
“You did,” I replied, “So, how are we getting out of here?”
*
The prison was brutally simple. There was one way in and out – the huge circular bank vault style door that we’d come through. The room on the other side of the door was where prisoners who were due to be experimented on were instructed to go via a tannoy system. Food was delivered to the same room twice a day. There were no guards in the prison itself to avoid any hostage situations, and any attempts to cause trouble led to severe consequences and punishments. The whole space could be flooded with a sedative gas at any moment, and the prison was monitored through cameras in the ceiling.
The two obvious ways out – the ventilation ducts and the sewage pipes – were too small for any of us to fit through, and even if anyone could it was doubtful they had no security measures.
“One way in and one way out,” Wilson repeated, “The vault door.”
“Right,” I replied, after he’d given us the run down, “So what are we going to do about it?”
“We could start a riot, hope that gets them to open the door, try to break out that way.”
“Oh, no. No no no,” George said. He’d been listening to our escape plans with concern, “No rioting, no, no. Then they send us the sleeping gas and that hurts my head. We’re safe here, why can’t you see that?”
“I’ve got no problem starting a riot,” Balthazar said, with a hard stare at Major Wilson. Wilson ignored him.
“Probably better to wait until the daytime, when the food is delivered. They’re more likely to open the door with their own people at risk.”
“We have to get out now. Tomorrow will be too late.”
“What’s the rush?” Wilson asked.
“The Pryces have a plan, and they’re doing it tonight. Now. They’re totally mad. They were talking about sucking the power out of the magical realm, using it to take control of – their words – everything. About becoming literal gods.”
“Gods?” Wilson asked.
“They’re off their rockers, the pair of them.”
“What exactly did they say?” Balthazar asked.
“Something about draining power from your dimension, about how it would be enough to take control of everything. That if they act now, they can absorb all the magical energy that has been trapped on the other side for the last seventy years.”
“Is that even possible?” Major Wilson asked.
“Vincent seems to think so. This has been their endgame all along. Complete power.”
“They’ll need to open a portal,” Balthazar said, “If Vincent wants to drain the energy before it seeps back into the world. So they’ll be using the standing stones in Avebury.”
“The stones?”
“Yes. It’s the easiest way to create a portal. They’re positioned on weak spots, where the walls between the realms are thinnest. That was how we were supposed to go home. I can’t imagine what they could do with all that power.”
“Does it matter?” Wilson replied, “Nothing good, without a doubt. They’re a pair of manipulative, murderous, vicious freaks.”
“Look who’s talking,” Balthazar said.
“He’s right,” I cut in, “Whatever they’re up to we have to stop them. And they have to answer for their crimes.”
“They aren’t the only ones,” Balthazar said.
“Try it, boy,” Major Wilson replied, “I won’t be so merciful next time.”
“Enough!” I said, “We won’t get anywhere like this. We can all agree on one thing: Victoria and Vincent Pryce need to be stopped. Right?”
Major Wilson and Balthazar were eyeballing each other, getting ready for round two. Wilson stood up, cracked his knuckles. Balthazar grinned, put his fists up.
I stood up angrily and stretched my arms between the two of them.
“I said, enough! Right now we’re on the same side whether we like it or not. Beating each other up will get us nowhere. We have to work together to get out of here and stop the Pryces. Agreed? Or do you two idiots want to keep trying to kill each other and let them get away with everything?”
My head swung left and right, glaring at them as they eyeballed each other. Balthazar’s lip curled into a sneer. Major Wilson’s eyebrows furrowed into a scowl.
If I’d had time to think about it, I’d have wondered what I was doing getting in the middle of two psychos who had both tried to kill me and were perfectly happy to beat each other to death. My sole concern was escaping and finding Kate and Dee. Stopping the Pryces was, if I’m honest, a much lower priority. Ha
ving Wilson and Balthazar onside was just the first step to getting out of Dodge, if that was possible.
“Kid, whatever anyone else says, you have a pair the size of England,” Balthazar grunted.
“Until we’re out of here and have stopped the Pryces, we’re all on the same side. No more fighting until this is over. After that I don’t care if you beat each other to death with your own grandmothers. Right now we need a truce. Okay?”
I glared at them.
“Fine,” Balthazar said.
“Agreed,” Major Wilson said.
“Shake on it.”
“Forget about it.”
“No chance.”
“Shake on it,” I repeated, still standing between the two of them with my arms raised. Wilson and Balthazar looked at me incredulously.
It was one of my finer moments.
“Only one person has ever got the drop on me,” Wilson said, indicating me with a wave, “I hope you’ve got some more surprises up your sleeve, Jason.”
He held his hand out across me. Balthazar hesitated, then shook it.
“When this is over,” he growled.
“Oh, definitely,” Major Wilson agreed.
“Right,” I said, “So, again: How are we getting out of here?”
“Actually, I might be able to help out with that,” a familiar voice said.
Chapter Fifty: Breaking Out
My relief at seeing Dee was mixed with guilt at having left him behind. He’d been listening outside the cell door for the last fifteen minutes. He was stood leaning against the gantry railing, arms crossed.
“Dee, I am so sorry,” I said, forgetting for a second that I was still standing between two men who were dancing around the edge of killing each other. Dee shrugged.
“Don’t worry about it, mate. I told you to get out of there. You did.”
“I didn’t want to...” I began, but Dee held up his hand, waving it off.
“Seriously, drop it,” he said, “I mean look it at this way: I finally got to do my job of protecting you, even if it was after you fired me. So, things didn’t exactly work out the way we planned?”
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