BROKEN

By
Adamski Fleetwood

Copyright Adam Fleetwood, 2009

First Published by
Rivendell Publishing Limited
Rivendell, 5 The Clays, Market Lavington,
Devizes, Wiltshire SN10 4AY
www.rivendellcentre.com
The right of Adam Fleetwood to be
identified as the Author of the Work has
been asserted by them in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act
1988
All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form
or by any means without the prior written
permission of the publisher, nor be
otherwise circulated in any form of binding
or cover other than that in which it is
published and without a similar condition
being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are
fictitious and any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.
Printed and bound by Lulu.com

1
 BROKEN

By Adam Fleetwood

2
 Winters cold

Beneath the frozen forest floor

A tiny young boy sleeps
No longer shivers with winter's cold
A secret he does keep
"Ran away" his Daddy said
He'd hidden all the proof
"Stop crying dear, you'll wake the dead"
But he knew the ugly truth
He cried for Timmy and himself
As he cradled blood - caked hair
He couldn't believe what he had done
He pushed Timmy down the stairs

3
 The Eden Project

Its always been funny to me how

everyone in a small town relies on
someone else. If a shopkeeper falls ill
then a mother cant keep her family fed.
If an electrician dies then someone has
to sleep in darkness. It is almost an
ecosystem, an artificial, polite web. If
one thread breaks then the others have
to carry more of the spiders weight.

That was life in Riverton. The

pace of life is slow and considered.
Being ten miles from the nearest city
there was no need to rush. Days drifted
by on the summer breeze, one melting
into another. People were never late for
work, responsibilities were fulfilled and
children brought up with big city
dreams. The people were bankers,
realtors, shopkeepers and artists.
Everyone knew everyone elses business
and kept it to themselves. They were
good, kind people. The crime rate was
4
one of the lowest in the country and the
most serious offence in the towns
history was car theft. Neighborhood
watch ruled the streets rather than thugs.
It was a dream town.

Garrett Redfield founded the

town in 1851. A landowner, realtor and
student of the sciences, he built the town
up from scratch. People flocked in from
far afield to enjoy the peace and quiet of
the country. Mostly elderly people or
businessmen looking to retire, the
population quickly grew from a couple
of hundred to over a thousand. People
came and went, families moved in and
out and nature took its course.

By the early twentieth century

Riverton became a haven for wartime
evacuees. There was no reason for the
Germans to bomb a place that barely
existed. When the warring countries
found peace the world stood devastated.
Forced optimism dictated that the
evacuees were sent home to help build a
5
brave new world. Riverton went back to
its lazy ways. The town was awarded a
commendation for war efforts and life
went on. Year after year went by, people
were born and people died. Life was
good, comfy, just how it should be.
They were sitting ducks.

***

The night air was cold on Sadies

shoulders. Moonlight flooded in the
windows spotlighting the couple
beneath the sheets. Crickets chorused in
the dark outside, a sure sign that a storm
was coming. Sadie purred as Ray held
her tightly, wrapping the sheets around
her. She kissed his chest softly, biting
back a sneeze as the wiry hair tickled
her nose.

Sadie was twenty-eight and had

big city dreams. She had always
wanted to be an actress but living thirty
miles from anywhere you just didnt

6
meet the people for it. She had thought
about moving away to California to
chase Hollywood but she had a job and
a boyfriend and had it better than a lot
of people. She worked in the library as
an assistant manager. Seven years
between lines of books earns you a title
and a fair pay check but wore on the
soul.

Her career trapped her, the fear

of not having a fixed income being
undesirable enough to keep her dusting
shelves and pressing stamps. So year
after year went by and books were
borrowed and returned and a little more
of her slipped away.

Then she had met Ray. He had

been browsing the music biography
section. She had asked him what he was
looking for and if she could help,
entranced by his muscular figure and
short but messy dark hair. He had been
looking for the autobiography of Noel
7
Gallagher, guitarist and singer of the
pop band Oasis. Its always good for
people to share common interests and
Britpop was one that they shared. Soon
after they had made love to the tune of
Force of Nature. Ray moved in with
her and an unspoken partnership formed
between them.

She enjoyed living with Ray. He

provided comfort, commitment and a
shoulder to cry on, everything a woman
of her age could hope or ask for. She felt
as trapped by Rays career as she did her
own, however. Ray was a writer, or
rather a failing writer. When she met
him he had a string of biographies and
cheap novels on the market and was
making sales on an international and
national basis. Within the next two years
his publishing company had gone
bankrupt, leaving him barren. Ideas
began to run dry and soon enough sales
fell into decline. The spaces between
books became longer and public interest
8
wore thin. He fell into depression and
after another year of failed attempts his
career was effectively over. He had
always dreamed of writing a horror
novel but it had never happened.

Sadie wished more than

anything that he could support her, that
he would get a real job that paid. She
couldnt handle the idea of paying the
bills off of her own back and looking
after the baby.

She hadnt told him yet but she

had been pregnant for four months now.
She was showing a little but had put it
down to weight gain due to work stress.
She had resolved to tell him tonight but
something had stopped her, until he
pulled her closer to him. With exception
of their growing money problems he
made her feel so safe. Safer than any
man had ever made her. She looked up
at him and waited for him to meet her

9
gaze. When he didnt she nudged him
with her chin.

Ray? she whispered softly.

He stirred and looked down at her, his

neck forming a double chin. It didnt
matter at all; he hadnt succumbed to the
inherent bloating of middle age yet.

Im, I she whispered,

halting. He stared deep into her eyes.

What is it honey, whats up?

His hand on her cheek.

She snuggled into his chest and

breathed in deep his smell. She took a
deep breath. What if he was angry?
What is he didnt want to keep it? How
could they bring up a baby anyway?
They could barely look after a
mortgage.

Im pregnant she blurted out,

burying her face in his chest. She

10
expected him to up and leave, escape a
life tied down, a life that she thought he
would run a mile from. Ray said
nothing. He had stopped breathing, his
chest no longer rising and falling
beneath her sleek, auburn head. She
looked up, dreading the worst. He was
half smiling.

Im going to be a dad? his

voice was excited, cracking at the
corners. She hummed in agreement,
propping herself up on an elbow. The
sheets fell from her shoulders exposing
her small, pert breasts. He turned to face
her, meeting her eyes, smiling wide.

What do you want to call it?

It was a bright, warm summer morning.

Sunlight streamed in the windscreen,
blinding Sadie. She thrust the car into
gear and pulled away from the
driveway. There was no need to drive to
11
work, it was only a ten-minute walk to
the other side of town but today she
didnt have the energy. She had spent
most of the night talking with Ray, silly
things like where they would take the
child for its first birthday, whether they
would prefer a boy or a girl.

Houses and shop fronts drifted

by as she shifted the Mercedes into
second. The morning had a feeling of
melancholy, of hope but also loss. Birds
fed on lawns and milk cartons shone
white from doorsteps in the morning
light.

Sadies was the only car on the

road, which pleased her. It made the
place quiet and calming with the added
bonus that she could push it up to thirty
without making the front page of the
local paper. In fact, there was no one to
be seen. No children walking to school,
no mothers hanging out washing or
kissing husbands a fond farewell even
12
though they would see them again when
the five o clock bell tolled. Not even Mr.
Jenkins, who was perpetually deck chair
bound on his lawn polishing his guns,
was out today.

His home arsenal had been a

talking point in town for years now.
Every year on his birthday his daughter
would travel from DC to hand him some
form of new weapon from Top Gun and
Rod and cook him a steak dinner. Most
people in Point Pleasant thought that his
collection was a recipe for disaster. The
way Sadie saw it, just so long as he
wasnt blowing lawn jockeys to pieces
and sticking up the local liquor store
people should keep themselves to
themselves.

At almost ninety he had seen

war, an underage conscript. He had
stood gun in hand against the Nazi war
machine, through thick and thin. He had
come home a few years later a broken
13
man, a thing changed. Sadie
remembered what he had told her about
war when she was just a child on the
night of the millennium. He had sat her
down and looked at her like no adult had
before, like an equal. Sadie he had
said, taking her hands in his its been
fifty years now without war, and a good
thing it is too. We are a very lucky
people. You see the thing about war or
any sort of conflict really, is that it is a
disease. A body that attacks itself. Often
the loss you must withstand is far more
than you will gain in the end. Never
forget its always worth standing for
your cause, but is the juice worth the
squeeze? she hadnt understood what
he had meant then but she did now.

Over the last few days question

after question had crept its way into her
mind. Was she fit to mother a child?
Could she raise it to be a good person?
There was always adoption if she didnt
fit the bill but she couldnt bear the
14
thought of putting her offspring in the
hands of a complete stranger. Could Ray
handle a child? The world weary, failing
book writer with a significant lack of
motivation and goals. That remained to
be seen. Either way she had another five
months to figure it out.

She sighed out her worries.

Blanchards groceries drifted by and she
turned the corner to work. Another right
turning and the library loomed before
her. Could she possible mother a child?
Was all of this worry just pregnancy
blues?

Maybe there was a book on the

subject.

Sadie sat across from Mr. Peterson as he

shuffled papers, his face turning a bright
shade of red. The mystery of the
deserted town had been solved. The
clocks had gone back. She had turned up

15
to work an hour early but resolved to put
the blunder to good use, to sweeten up
her boss. Obviously the request for
maternity leave was a little above him.
He snorted derisively and looked up at
her. He was an ugly, humourless man.
His wife had left him a few years ago on
account of nothing ever being fun.
Everything was a cold, calculated effort
in the world of Peterson. He was a
planner and took everything seriously
for fear that the routine; the loop would
be broken.

He was balding, fat and wore a

pair of oversized, perfectly polished
horn rims. Every day he wore identical
short-sleeved shirts pressed to perfection
and adorned with a nametag, as if there
was a person within ten miles who
didnt know who he was. He owned and
ran the library and was just as dusty as
the books her surrounded himself with,
but as long as he signed her pay check
she wasnt about to complain.
16
 He shifted his papers again and
cleared his throat. He glanced back up at
her and briefly met her eye.

Obviously legalities dictate

that I have to grant you maternity leave.
However, I would like you to bear in
mind just how irresponsible this is. The
people of this town need information.
Your job is to provide said information.
Nevertheless, I am forced to grant you
up to four months of paid leave after six
months of pregnancy he placed his
hand atop hers and began to caress it
with her fingertips I hope you
appreciate this. She shrank back from
his touch, a shiver running up and down
her spine.

She hated when he touched her

and it happened often enough. Once he
had squeezed past her in one of the
aisles. His hands had groped her hips
and she had felt his small erection brush
across her buttocks through the thin
17
nylon of her dress. She muttered her
thank-yous and left the office at speed.

She thrust her key into the door, glad to

be home again. Work had been as
boring as ever and the minutes had
taken hours to pass. And then there was
Petersons vile behavior. She resolved
not to tell Ray, he would only march
down there tomorrow morning and lose
Sadie her job. Dusk was falling and
orange light glanced from the panel of
warped glass set into the front door. She
turned the key and the door clicked
open.
Ray? she called out. He
usually went to the comic book store on
a Tuesday, spending the day reading
rags and smoking pot with Reilly the
storeowner but his blue Toyota was
parked at its usual uneven angle in the
driveway. Working there would be the
perfect day job for Ray but he believed
that it would soak up his creative juices,

18
As if there were any to soak up at the
moment anyway.

When no answer came she

walked into the hallway and removed
her coat, hanging it over the banister.
She kicked off her shoes and noticing a
dark red stain on the blue denim of her
jeans she cursed herself. Earlier in the
day she had sent a pot of signing ink
flying and it had broken all over the
floor. Now the stain would never come
out and the jeans had bought a one way
ticket to the charity store.

Ray? she called out again

with no answer. She began to head
upstairs, concern brewing in the pit of
her stomach. She could hear music
coming from the studio as she
approached the door.

And I feel like a force of nature

19
She pushed the door and it swung back
lazily. The room was bright pink and
green, a garish mix. Sofas and beanbags
lined the walls, lava lamps sat on
surfaces and posters for Jaws and Laurel
and Hardy hung from any available wall
space. The loose, gritty chords of Oasis
blasted from the stereo in the corner.

Ray sat on a barstool before an

easel in the centre of the room, his head
in his hands. She went to him, snaking
her arms around his shoulders and
planting a kiss on the top of his head.
She looked at the painting and brushed
her hair out of her eyes. He had copied
his favourite photo of them on their first
holiday, sat together in Hyde Park,
London. The picture was almost photo-
realistic, a reminder of better days. Then
she noticed the tiny bundle nestled in
her arms, the bright pink, sleeping face
poking out from the white swaddle. He
had included the baby.

20
 She reached down, propped his
chin up on her hands and kissed him.
His tears were salty on her lips. This
was a rare moment of vulnerability for
him, usually the tough guy out of the
group. He had grown up exceptionally
tall and as a result had never received
even half of the verbal abuse that Sadie
bad. He had been on all of the football,
baseball and hockey teams. He had
made the right friends and befriended
the right enemies. He never cried or
even really let anything out. It wasnt
that he was a closed person; merely that
he wasnt too bothered by the worlds
problems. Mr. Happy go lucky.

My careers failing baby. How

am I ever going to support you and the
kid? I cant write anymore, I dont enjoy
painting he breathed wearily I
think Ive lost the spark. I know it must
seem like I dont care about helping run
things but I do. I feel so guilty for not
being able to do what I do he looked up
21
at her, a tear dangling precariously from
his chin. She stroked his face and took
one of his hands in hers. She pressed it
gently against her stomach and pushed
his hair back off of his forehead,
chuckling.

Look baby she glanced down

at her tiny bump you most definitely
havent lost the spark.

***

They marched under the moonlight.

They were as black as the night around
them, like mist in a fog. They were
silent as they approached the first
houses on the street, the trees behind
casting long shadows ahead.

The first doors were pried open

in seconds. They entered the lives of the
townsfolk, striding past childrens art
projects and messages written on
refrigerators with magnets. Hands

22
clasped over sleeping mouths, blades cut
sleeping throats.

Objective one: demoralize and terrify

target populace.

Then came the gunfire. Thundering

throughout the town. Lighting up the
windows of every house like blinking
eyes.

Myelin Davis awoke to the sight of

someone stood in the doorway to her
bedroom. Whoever it was they were tall,
at least six feet. At barely five, six feet
seemed humungous to her. Wally was
out of town visiting his sister, so she
knew it couldnt be him. A wedge of
terror landed like a ten ton weight in the
pit of her stomach.

Wally? Who are you? What the hell do

you want? Theres a purse by the door
and some jewellery in a chest over
there she pointed to the wooden crate
23
in the corner, cursing herself for her
visibly shaking hand. Take what you
want and get out!

The figure stood still, staring at

her. Beneath the sheets her hand crept to
her vagina, covering it with a vice grip.
If this man wanted to touch her then she
would put up a fight. A low chuckle
came from the doorway and she
wondered if the man had seen her
gesture of protection. True fear began to
bubble in her stomach and she felt her
defiance slipping away.

Then a sharp click and a boom.

She was thrown back against the wall
behind her. Then the pain came, cold
and unrelenting, washing over her like a
tsunami. Her hand instinctively went to
her shoulder. A huge metal barb
protruded from the flesh, pinning her to
the wall. As a white hot line of pain
drew itself from humorous to Clavicle
she realized that her shoulder been
24
smashed to pieces by the impact. She
moaned and tried to remain still despite
every impulse in her body telling her to
run, to get out. Her mind exploded with
agony as she tried to move.

The man advanced on her and

pushed her violently against the wall, a
strong hand pressing against her ribcage.
She screamed in agony as another wave
of pain hit her. At her age trauma such
as this could make her heart give out.
She hoped for it a little as the attackers
knife got to work on her legs.

***

The smell of fire hit Sadies nostrils.

She leapt out of bed looking for the
source of the blaze. Then she heard the
screaming. A sound like thunder and
cries of pain and terror. She ran to the
window and opened the blinds an inch.

People ran back and forth,

crying. Fire was spreading up the side of

25
the Palmers house, smoke billowing
into the night sky. Mr. and Mrs. Palmer
were at the window screaming for help.
Hulking, black figures mingled with the
crowd. People fell under hails of bullets,
tripping over the corpses of people she
had known for as long as theyd lived
there. Ray was at her side, his hand in
the small of her back.

What the hell is going on?

See for yourself she replied, retreating

from the window and grabbing the
baseball bat from its place under the
bed. Action was needed, not fear. Ray
stepped back from the window, stunned.
He began to thrust his feet into a pair of
jeans. Sadie followed fully dressed and
they headed for the back door.

We cant stay here Ray

muttered as he grabbed the largest knife
available from the block in the kitchen.

26
He retrieved his keys from the bowl by
the fridge and thrust one into the lock.

They hurried towards Langham Street

with their heads low. The Williams
bodies were scattered on their lawn, shot
dead. The smell of burning plastic and
timber was all around them. It stung
their nostrils, as they kept low behind
cars, out of sight. Car alarms and the
crash of glass breaking joined the
cacophony. A group of people
probably a family ran past suddenly
screaming in terror. Ray and Sadie
flinched back behind a bin as a huge
black figure pursued them, rifle in hand.

Ray grabbed Sadies hand and

they jogged back up the alley next to
their house. They came to a Dumpster
and Ray grabbed her by the hips, lifting
her up onto the top. Sadie knew what to
do and swung her legs onto the fence

27
before her. She let herself drop to the
lawn below, careful to take the fall with
her legs to avoid a knock to the baby in
her womb.

She was impressed by how Ray

was handling the situation, throwing
himself into his role as provider and
protector. He hit the grass a few seconds
after her and instantly they were on their
feet. Ahead of them were Slaters
mechanics and a few more houses. One
more left at the end of the street and
they were out of town. A few miles west
and they would hit the forest.

The lawn was riddled with

bodies. One of the attackers was
crouched over a young boy, examining
him. Ray and Sadie froze, staring down
the barrel of the biggest rifle they had
ever seen.

***

28
Myelin screamed, tears flowing down
her cheeks. She could see the bones in
her legs and it made her sick to her
stomach but the now unbearable pain
dwarfed the nausea. The sheets were
slick with her blood. She felt as though
she was going to pass out but every time
the relief came the man dug her with his
knife again.

Through the haze of tears she

could see better now what her attacker
looked like. He was closer to seven feet
tall than six and seemed to be clad in a
skin-tight armour plated wetsuit. He
wore an angular helmet with an
elongated back, which ended in a point.
Slits for eyes were the only facial
feature admitted by the mask. The most
unnerving thing about him was that he
had just two fingers and a thumb on
each hand. He tore at the skin of her
inner thigh again, blood flowing
gratuitously as the blade flesh.
29
 Do you have a husband? he
asked his voice calm and rasping.

Yes! she moaned, her agony

forcing the words out.

Where is he?

Out of town sister!!! she

screamed the last word as the knife
ground against her bone with a gravelly
scrape.

Any children?

Nooooo! the blade was

withdrawn and she slumped. She wished
he had raped her, hit her, shot her, rather
than do what he had. She would never
walk again. She heard the same abrupt
click as before and began to whimper,
pleading wordlessly for her life. It didnt
matter if she wouldnt walk, she didnt
want to die here, alone and exposed. He
pulled the trigger and another barb hit
her, this time in the chest. The thud of
30
her breastplate breaking seemed to ring
out even louder than the din outside. It
took her all of three seconds to give up.

***

Ray ran full tilt at the soldier, blade in

hand. He led with his right shoulder as
he had learnt in high school football all
those years ago. He wondered if his
shoulder would make any impact on the
black armour. He kept the blade in his
left hand ready to hook, the orange light
of fire glinting off of steel.

His shoulder connected with the

soldiers midriff and they both tumbled
to the grass a tangle of limbs. Ray
planted his knee in the mans stomach
and forced his weight down, half
straddling him. If all went to plan he
would wind the behemoth, leaving him
open to attack with the blade. He didnt
want to kill but now was the time for
decisive action.

31
 The plan failed. Ray felt the
wind against his face before he realized
that he was flying. His head was a few
seconds behind his body and when he
collided with a rabbit hutch and
splintered it beneath him he felt barely
anything. The miniscule, white animals
spilled onto the lawn and scattered in all
directions, their quivering noses taking
in the smell of fire and death.

Ray reeled as a huge, solid fist

smashed into his temple. He saw the
flash of metal and realized that he still
miraculously held his knife. As the
black figure bore down on him he aimed
for a rubbery joint in the segmented
metal armour plating. His aim was true
and the soldier practically fell onto his
blade. It sank up to the handle into
warm flesh and Ray suspected that it
protruded from his back. The soldier
leapt to his feet obviously in agony but
making no sound. He grabbed at the
knife his hands stretched over his back,
32
clawing for the handle. As he stumbled
his foot came down on a terrified rabbit,
crushing it dead.

Sadie was behind him with the

rifle. She didnt lose a second in pulling
the trigger and when the muzzle flares
and deafening reports came she had
blown a hole in him big enough to
watch TV through. She let off another
hail of slugs and his side was eaten
away by white hot metal. His torso
resembled Pacman with a huge section
of the left side missing. As he dropped
to his knees spinning with the
momentum of the impacts Sadie let off
one last stream of death, howling her
anger and fear into the warm night
breeze. Just a few hours ago they had sat
together thinking of possible names for
the baby. Now she had been forced to
become as cold-blooded as the men
attacking the town.

33
 There was more of the soldier
left than there were of the Williams but
he was definitely dead. No man, no
matter how armoured, could survive
with half a ribcage. Ray retrieved his
blade from the corpse and grabbed
Sadie. He was still woozy from the blow
to the temple and as he swallowed, his
tongue like sandpaper, he thought he
could feel a fragment of a tooth slide
past his Adams apple.

***

India wasnt a stupid girl. At six years

old she knew what to do if a bad man
ever tried to do anything to her. She
thrust her foot out, remembering what
her mother had taught her. It connected
with the cold metal of the mans groin
guard. He didnt falter for a second as
he shoved her back onto her pink
bedspread.

34
Number 143 made sure to hit softer than
he had with the girls mother. Perhaps
he had hit a little hard before. Her
corpse lay on the sofa downstairs, her
face a bloody, destroyed mess. The sub
objective was to keep as many civilians
alive as possible, accommodating for
potential escapees and problematic
individuals. He could see that the father
would have made a problem of himself
so after breaking his knee with one
quick foot thrust he had found some
duct tape in a drawer and done what
needed to be done.

He tapped the girl gently in the

mouth but she still reeled back from the
hit, blood gushing from her nose and
mouth. He used the moment to drag her
by one foot down the stairs and out of
the house. The thud of her tiny body
hitting each step gave him a rhythm to
work with.

35
 Her crying rang out in the street
and he recognized it as a sign of
discomfort. He could vaguely remember
what that felt like.

***

People ran in all directions screaming.

Embers rained down on the chaos in the
streets. The thunder of gunshots tore
through the night shaking windows in
their frames. People fell under bullets,
blood spattering walls and pavements.
One of the soldiers hoisted a huge
metallic tube onto his shoulder and took
aim at the signal tower on the edge of
town. The trail of deep Grey smoke
drew a line across the sky. The fireball
that ensued shook the ground beneath
their feet. The metal structure of the
power tower warped, folding in every
unnatural angle. It toppled forward onto
the power lines sending sparks flying.
There were seventy-six people in Point
Pleasant attempting to get a hold of the
authorities and seventy six signal bars
dropped to zero. Every light in town
blinked out. People came flooding out
36
of their hiding places as if the available
light outside was any better. People
were reverting to their childhood fears.
It was the light of fire, of houses
burning.

***

Myelin Davis opened an eye and saw

blood. She wasnt alive but she wasnt
dead yet. She didnt dare move in case
the pain came back. At the moment she
was completely numb. She could just
about see her right hand in her field of
vision. It was as white as the sheets
below it. Suddenly she realized that her
left hand was still clasping the space
between her ruined legs. She smirked a
little at the thought.

From what little medical

knowledge she had she could tell she
had a perforated lung. The air she
breathed was cold and stung her chest a
little. Luckily the metal barb was
keeping the holes closed up for now.
37
She could smell wood fire and blood. It
was probably just the crimson sheets
below her legs and blood loss playing
tricks. She wondered what would have
happened if Wally had come home
when she was being tortured, her knight
in shining armour. Really he was just a
balding, fat man with a fishing pole, not
a sword. She craved his smell, the
mixture of brine and coffee. She knew
she would never see him again.

***

They were almost out of town. Before

them stretched an expanse of green shot
through the middle with one small, two
lane road. A minority of townsfolk had
fought year after year for the roads to be
re-laid but still the road west stood
cracked and potholed. In the distance
stood Mill forest, a looming, foreboding
place. At any rate it was better than
staying in town. They took the last few
meters of Langham Street at a jog, sweat
38
breaking out on their foreheads, the
screaming and gunfire far behind them.

Then they noticed the black

figures, two of them, rifles raised. They
slowed to a walk and stopped. The right
one was covering Ray and the left Sadie
and if they tried to make a move they
would be caught in crossfire. They had
no choice but to stand still. The soldiers
didnt make to shoot them but the
couple wanted nothing less than to
provoke them.

Just do what they

want Ray whispered. Sadie nodded
back. They were so close to escape yet
so far away. The soldiers advanced.
Each one carried a black rag. Ray and
Sadie were forced about face and the
material thrust over their heads. It was
thick, black and felt like hessian
sackcloth. It allowed enough oxygen to
breathe but prevented sight altogether.
Their hands were tied with what felt like
39
thin strips of plastic and they were
pushed forcefully back towards town.

The terrified chatter and pained moans

of the townsfolk began to grow. They
were drawing close. Sadie had paid
close attention to the route they took and
if she was correct they were at the
crossroads of Langham, Willoughby,
Frost and Caruthers.

She was kicked behind and she

fell to her knees. Even though her legs
took the fall with a sharp jolt of pain she
stifled her cry. She wasnt about to show
her captors any weakness. A thud to her
left told her that the same had happened
to Ray. She braced herself for the sack
to be torn from her head.

It wasnt. Her breath was

beginning to feel stiflingly hot in the
confined space. She was suffocating, the
close, claustrophobic darkness forcing
40
its way down her throat and choking
her. She took a deep, coarse breath and
shook her head violently, trying to
throw off the sack. She was dying, the
cold, cruel nausea building in her
stomach. She couldnt even scream or
beg for the sack to be removed. Words
had left her for dead.

Sadie Sadie! Ray was next

to her. She felt his warm body against
hers. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.
She forced herself to remain still. Her
breath shuddered out and she felt herself
begin to relax again. She wasnt sure if
her eyes were open or closed but white
spots fluttered in her vision. Thank god
she had Ray there to keep her steady.
She realized suddenly that she was on
her stomach. On the baby. Her stomach
did a summersault and she threw herself
over onto her back. Perhaps it was just
worry but her womb ached.

***
41
The heavy wooden doors of the library
creaked open. The gunfire and
explosions outside were deafening. He
thanked god for the rock bottom crime
rate in Point Pleasant. As a result there
was no need to lock doors when night
fell. The chaos outside reminded him of
the trenches, the suffering of others
bringing out beads of sweat. Or maybe it
was just heat from the fires burning all
over town.

He hobbled between the aisles

his footsteps echoing in the cavernous
hall. The wraparound windows high
above cast an orange glow over the
bookshelves before him. He was
carrying his own body weight in guns
and ammunition on his back and it
slowed his progress considerably. Of the
weapons he had his favorites were the
.438 Remington rifle, the .38 caliber
Colt and of course the Taurus sniper
rifle, all presents from his daughter.

42
Thank god she had moved to DC all
those years ago.

He could vaguely remember

where the stairwell was. In former days
he had been a regular patron of the
library but recently the dusty tomes
hadnt interested him so much. He
preferred to prepare himself for war. He
had known in his gut that something
was coming. He had smelt it in the air.

He found the stairwell nestled

between the human sciences and art
sections. He climbed the stairs as
quickly as he could; his hips aching like
a fire. He would lie in wait; choose the
right moment to strike. It would do no
good to call attention to himself before
daybreak. At his age his eyes needed
better visibility.

He burst out onto the roof, the

heat from the fires below yet another

43
discomfort to add to the ever-growing
pile.

***

India was scared. Her hands were tied

behind her back and she wanted to wipe
her bleeding nose but couldnt. She
didnt know who the bad men were or
why they had hit her. She hadnt done
anything naughty. Or maybe she had.
Maybe Mrs. Palmer had been naughty
too. Maybe that was why they had her
on the ground and were beating her face.
She liked Mrs. Palmer; she had used to
walk with her to school. She liked
school too, it was fun. She wanted to ask
the bad men to stop it but she had
always been told to stay out of it when
grownups argued, that she wouldnt
understand. More blood trickled from
her nose.

She had never been up this late

before; her parents never let her. She

44
had seen mummy and daddy on the sofa
when she was being dragged outside. At
first she had thought they were watching
TV. Then she had seen the blood. Her
dad had the thick, silver tape stuff over
his nose and mouth.

She would have to find a new

mommy and daddy now. She looked
around the crowd, searching for
someone nice. Grownups werent meant
to be scared but she couldnt see a single
person in the crowd who wasnt.

***

Sadie was shaken awake roughly. Her

face was pulled briskly towards the sky
and she heard a snap. For a moment she
thought it was her neck. Then the sack
was whipped off of her head and she
was thrown back to the tarmac.

She looked up and surveyed the

scene, aware that Ray was beside her.
She was right in thinking that they were
45
at the crossroads. A crowd was forming
thirty feet away herded together by the
soldiers. There were at least ten of the
armoured figures that she could see and
probably more out of sight.

Are you okay? Rays voice

was calm and measured. She nodded
Ill live.

And the baby?

She looked grim. Ray shifted his weight,

wishing his hands werent tied.

Look he whispered you need

to get in somewhere. The door to
Blanchards is open, crawl there. Youll
be able to find a knife in there, cut your
ties. Then I want you to get on the
phone, Internet, anything, and call
someone. Get help.

Fuck off; Im not leaving you

Ray

46
 Do it for our child, Sade. You
need to get help. Ill be okay, trust me
Im not spent yet. Ill stay here so the
guards dont get suspicious. If they see
one of us theyll probably assume were
both here.

She stared hard at him seeing

the truth in what he was saying.

Do it for our kid. Save it. I

swear I wont leave you. Ill find a way
out of this.

She wasted no more time. She

took one last look at him and began to
turn on the spot, worming her way in the
direction of Blanchards groceries. She
forced herself to her knees, the pebbled
tarmac cutting into the skin. She
breathed heavily, the effort of the act
beginning to get the better of her. Ever
so slowly she forced on, keeping her
stomach off of the floor so as not to

47
crush the baby. The door was three feet
away, two, and one.

She threw herself head first over

the door jam and hit linoleum. Her chin
hit the floor and she saw stars but she
ignored the pain, kicking the door softly
behind her.

All hope of escape was gone.

Ray stood with the hundreds strong
crowd, surrounded by the invaders. One
of them shoved the back of his head and
he stumbled forward deeper into the
crowd. Even if there was no chance of
escape, maybe they wanted him alive.
At least they had cut the bindings on his
hands.

The crowd had been rounded up

and stood at the crossroads for over four
hours now. At first there had been about
thirty of them, then sixty, then more.
Soon over a hundred people stood
crying, tired and in pain. But if they

48
wanted them alive then what the hell
for?

A resounding crash echoed

down the street. A door flew open
knocking back one of the captors. A
family father, mother, brother and
sister burst from the doorway and
began to tear down the street, attempting
escape. A bullet flew from an upstairs
window and the father cart wheeled into
a shop front window smashing the glass.
His tartan pyjamas began to turn a deep
shade of red.

One of the herders turned and

raised his rifle, a finger clicking off the
safety. With a juddering series of
deafening clacks the mother and son
were sent flying, kissing dirt as their
corpses crashed to the tarmac.

The daughter had caught a

bullet in the side but somehow she
carried on. Her blue pyjamas were

49
getting redder and redder just like her
fathers. She looked to about fourteen,
tall and pretty, her blonde tousles
bouncing as she ran. She would have
grown up to be something special. Now
she wouldnt grow up at all. She was
merely a speck in the distance but her
agonized, terrified cries still met their
ears. Ray flinched as bullets flew. The
speck in the distance fell, dead. Two of
the soldiers broke from the circle, one to
retrieve the body and one to gun down
any more potential escapees. The body
would be added to the ever-growing
pile, which Ray guessed would be
burned.

The methodical precision of the

attackers scared him the most. They
were always in some sort of attack or
defensive formation and always seemed
to have a plan. What was more chilling
was that they didnt seem to need to
communicate, not even the hand signals
commonly used by the military. He
50
doubted if they even were military, but
who knew what secrets the powers that
be had locked away?

He was shoved from behind

again and realized that more people had
joined the group. A tiny girl of at the
most six stood alone, her face soaked in
blood. Ray was shocked to see that she
wasnt crying. One of the soldiers pried
a teddy bear from her shaking hands and
began to examine it. After a few
moments inspection he tossed it away,
as if he had remembered comfort and
rejected it anyway. The girl stared after
it, her face contorted in a grimace of
despair.

Sadie peered out of the upstairs window

of Blanchards groceries trying to pick
Ray out of the crowd below. Fewer
people had been killed in the initial
attack than she had thought. Still, at

51
least two hundred faces were missing.
She adjusted her position slightly to get
a better line of sight. When she still
couldnt pick Ray out she began to cry.
What if he had been killed and was a
part of the twenty-foot pile of corpses?
Even if he was dead she needed to find
his body. She couldnt just let him be
burned with the rest. He deserved a
proper burial.

Two of the soldiers approached

the pile and hurled the limp body of a
young girl on. Sadie had heard the shots,
seven of them, but she hadnt seen the
target of the violence. A girl, just a girl.
She couldnt have been a threat to the
soldiers. It was merely an act of cold
brutality.

***

Alan Jenkins cocked the rifle and took

aim. At almost ninety he had lost a lot of
muscle and as a result his hands shook
with the weight. The red dot of the
52
sights hovered over the head of one of
the soldiers. There was no telling how
they would react to losing one of their
own. They might stand and fight, might
run, might take the lives of everyone
down below but it was a risk worth
taking. One thing he had learnt from
fighting the Germans is how important it
is to show the enemy no fear, that
someone will take a stand.
The library room gave him
perfect line of sight with the soldiers to
his left and below. It appeared to him
that they were using a standard flanking
pattern, first surrounding the enemy and
then positioning snipers at vantage
points. If there was anyone in town who
knew how to combat such military
techniques it was he.
Bastards bastards he
muttered as with a trembling, frail hand
he retrieved the silencer from his bag.
He screwed it on slowly, choosing his
target carefully and strategically. The
gun being as high caliber as it was the
silencer wouldnt do the job entirely;
merely reduce the report to a muted

53
thud. If it worked properly it would
grant him at least some stealth.
The kickback would almost
certainly break his old ribs so he
positioned the firearms stand over the
edge of the building. The lip of the roof
would absorb the recoil. He took aim,
setting his sights on one of the soldiers
in an upstairs window of the Petersons
house; he counted down from three,
steadying himself.
Three two

A dull, almost inaudible thud met Rays

ears. It was closely followed by a
second and then silence. The soldiers
didnt seem to have noticed as they
herded more people to the crossroads.
What had the noise been? It probably
wasnt significant.

He took his packet of Reds out

of his jeans pocket and lit one up. He
took a long, slow drag and began to hold
his breath for the twelve seconds it
would take for the nicotine to reach his
bloodstream and set off the pleasure
54
sensors in his brain. At eight he was
struck hard across the cheek. He toppled
over and was buried under bodies as he
dragged people down with him. The
cigarette was crushed in the attackers
hand, tiny embers showering. One of the
soldiers stood over him, rifle in hand.
Ray raised his hands to protect himself.

Something was happening

below. Luckily the first two shots had
gone unnoticed. He had leant into the
second shot taking a fraction of the
recoil and now his stomach ached.
There would be a bruise tomorrow, if
tomorrow ever came.
He needed to plan the next shot
carefully. With the angle he had it was
likely he would hit his target, just as
likely that he would be an inch off and
hit the people behind and even more
likely that he would hit the man he was
trying to save. The soldiers gun was in
a mans face and he recognized him as
Sadies boyfriend. Sadie was a good kid.
He wondered if she was dead yet. His
sights hovered over the black metal
cowl of his target
55
Ray was pleading for his life though he
could barely hear himself over the
anguished cries of the people around
him. The cold metal of the soldiers rifle
caressed his cheek. He was pleading
profusely, begging for mercy from a
merciless killer.
A thud resounded and the
soldiers head exploded. The mornings
blue sky was turned red and instant
before Ray was showered with gore.
Brain and fragments of bone peppered
the crowd. For a brief moment the
soldiers looked around, confused. Then
the chatter of rifle fire filled Rays ears.
Body after body fell; chips of brickwork
flew as bullets tore through flesh and
ricocheted from walls. The glass to the
lower floor of Blanchards groceries
was obliterated as a few stray bullets
made impact, tearing apart the corpse of
the father escapee.

Ray hit the tarmac and covered

his head with his hands. Bodies
collapsed atop him as the crowd heaved
56
to and fro. A foot came down an inch
from his head and he rolled. Another
soldier fell to the dirt, blood spilling
from the space between his neck armor
and helmet. He almost laughed with joy
at the sight. Perhaps the authorities had
gotten wind of the situation and sent a
rescue team, a task force, anything.

Sadie flinched when she heard the

window break downstairs. She had been
discovered and now they were coming
to kill her in cold blood like the rest. She
grabbed the blade she had used to cut
her ties from the bedside table and
rushed to the closet. There was a huge
bullet hole surrounded by blood in the
wood. She grabbed the handle and slid
back the door, climbing inside. Her hand
shaking, she braced herself against the
suit rail sandwiched between dressing
gowns and formalwear from someone
elses life.
Ten minutes passed with no
footsteps on the stairs. She checked her
phone again, hoping upon hope that
there would be some signal. There
57
wasnt. The battery was running low
and with no power in town there was no
telling when she would be able to
charge up again.
The sounds of gunfire and
screaming had tailed off and in its place
was an awful silence. Breath shuddered
in her throat and she looked at the
wallpaper on her phone. It was the photo
of her and Ray on their first date, their
faces adorned with wide smiles. A tear
splashed on the crystal screen as she
realized it was almost certain now. Ray
had to be among the dead below.
The smell of her own sweat and
blood on her clothes stuck in her
nostrils. This was stupid, cowering in a
closet when there was still the tiniest
glimmer of hope that Ray was alive.

***

He was found. Bullets peppered the side

of the building and he peered over the
edge. The ground rushed up at him as
vertigo hit. Three of the soldiers scuttled
up the vertical surface of the north wall
like spiders. He had never seen anything
58
like this in all his years of research. He
had thought he would be prepared for
what he had known was coming. He had
been very much mistaken.
He wouldnt last in hand to
hand combat and the scuffling behind
told him more were coming up the south
wall. He remembered the ancient relic
landmine he had kept as a souvenir from
Dusseldorf. He thrust his hand into the
camo bag and rummaged. Finding it he
placed the heavy metal object on the
corner between the north and east sides
of the building.

Chunks of masonry hailed down

on the crowd at street level as a huge
explosion rocked the town. The north
wall of the library crumbled under the
brunt and like an avalanche, ones of
brick and mortar fell, sweeping away
one of the black figures. With a sound
like pebbles clashing but a thousand
times louder the wreckage came to a rest
atop a collection of parked cars. Perhaps
it was a car alarm resounding from
within its rocky prison but Ray hoped

59
the wailing was the soldier screaming
for help.

The heat from the blast singed

Jenkinss hair. He could very vaguely
hear what was left of it sizzle. As the
building was rocked he was knocked
from his feet. His hearing had always
been unusually acute for a man of his
age but now it was almost gone. In its
place was only a piercing, ringing
sound. As he regained his wits two of
the soldiers clambered over the lip of
the roof.

The crowd surged in panic

knocking Ray to the floor. Foot after
foot came down on him. He was being
trampled into Langham Street. The
crowd was trying its best to evade the
blast heat. A few feet away a teenage
boy had been crushed. His lower jaw
was flattened into the floor, terror in his
dead eyes. Ray hoped to god that Sadie
and the baby were okay.

The soldiers bore down on

Jenkins. He racked his trusty Remington
60
rifle ready to blow the bastards apart. He
could brace the stock against the floor,
thereby almost eradicating recoil. It was
too late. The gun was kicked violently
from his feeble hand, which was pinned
to the floor by a foot. Everything felt
somehow slower as a heavy, black boot
came down on his face.
Sadie had summoned up the
courage to come out of the wardrobe.
She had moved to the window and now
peered through a slit in the blinds barely
an inch deep. The crowd down below
was silent, collected before three of the
soldiers. About an hour ago a huge
explosion had shaken plaster from the
ceiling. She had thought that just maybe
the end of the world had come.

Below one of the soldiers was

picking someone up off of the ground.
He led the man through the crowd like a
farmer walking through corn. Blue
jeans, Grey T-shirt, wolf tattoo on the
forearm. Ray! She had known deep
down that he wasnt dead. She
shuddered with glee at the sight of him.

61
It took a bite of the tongue to keep her
from calling out to him.

As Ray was being led to the

front of the crowd a naked woman was
wrestled to the ground. Sadies stomach
gave way as she realized what was
happening. A rope was tied around her
ankles and thrown over the crook of a
nearby street lamp. Another soldier
caught the end in its descent and began
to hoist her up. It was Mrs. Teller, the
third grade teacher at the local school.
When she reached a sufficient height
from the ground the soldier tied the rope
off on a bike rack. She swung gently
upside down, begging them to stop. Her
pleas met deaf ears. One of them
produced a canister of gasoline and
began to douse her with it, covering her
from head to toe as she began to
whimper. The liquid pooled beneath her
as it dripped from her black hair.
A soldier leant in and said
something to Ray. Ray stared straight at
Sadie as if he could see her perfectly
through the tiny aperture in the blinds.

62
 They say theyll burn Mrs.
Teller if you dont come out Sade Ray
shouted, a meaningful look in his eye.
He remained composed, his gaze
strafing across the shop fronts on her
side of the street. He was deliberately
avoiding revealing her position and at
the same time subtly shaking his head.
She noticed the gesture and stayed put.
The soldier who had tied the rope struck
a match. Mrs. Teller whimpered
pathetically as she hung limply, her
hands dangling almost to the floor.
Sadie moved away from the
window. She knew she should go to
Ray, to follow the soldiers order but
what was stopping them from killing her
as soon as she stepped outside? She
needed to keep the situation in
equilibrium, to think a way out.
Dont come out Sadie; dont
give them what they want!
The soldier tossed the match
lazily at Mrs. Teller and she burst into
flame. A scream like Sadie had never
heard before cut a gaping hole in the
midday tranquility. Her hair burned
away in seconds. She writhed like a fish
63
on a hook, screeching in agony. Smoke
began to rise from her burning form.
Sadie couldnt take it. Her heart
thudded in her chest. She hadnt been
given time to think a way out, if there
was one at all. The invaders were done
playing games. She ran for the stairs,
fingers in her ears.

Rays heart sank as the door to

Blanchards burst open. It had been
cruel to let Mrs. Teller burn but Sadie
could have found a way out, a way to
escape. She could have taken one of the
cars left on the street and driven away,
saving at least herself and the baby.
From there she could have found
someone, gotten help.
Sadie stumbled into the street
ordering them to stop. Mrs. Tellers
screams grew louder, drowning out
Sadies pleas. Her skin was peeling
away, charred and black.
Two of the soldiers moved to
restrain Sadie but made no effort to put
an end to Mrs. Tellers torture. It took
another ten minutes for her to go limp,
to stop screaming. Only when she was
64
dead did they put the fire out, hurling
bucket after bucket of water onto the
blackened mass. Somehow the rope
hadnt burned away and they left the
body hanging as a sign to anyone else in
hiding. Sadie was numb as she was
kicked to her knees and her hands bound
once more. Smoke and an awful sickly
sweet smell was wafted for miles around
on the cool midday breeze.

On number 143s orders the men had

retrieved every morsel of food from the
shops and houses and brought it to the
crossroads. It had all been burnt along
with blankets, clothes and towels. The
systematic destruction of all survival
necessities was an important part of the
operation.
The water and electric mains
had been disconnected. If there was
anyone left in hiding they would starve.
There was no time left to purge them,
they had gotten the call. The Hawks
were arriving and it was time to take the
survivors home.

65
 The men were burning a few
more of the houses as an insurance
policy. If there were anyone left alive
they would die from smoke inhalation or
spreading fire if the weather permitted.
He struck a match and tossed it onto the
twenty-foot pile of corpses, having
doused it with gasoline previously. He
couldnt feel the heat through his suit
and regretted it a little. It had been such
a long time since he had felt much at all.
Smoke clouded his vision as he watched
six of his men herd people onto the
black helicopters in their twenties.
Maybe they had killed too many. His
superiors would punish him severely if
that were the case. No emotion
accompanied the thought.
He approached the back of the
last queue where the little girl stood. He
could see now that he had broken her
nose. At least she wasnt dead. He
grabbed her by the shoulder and swung
her around. She didnt whimper or cry.
Surprising. He pushed her to the ground
by her chest and clambered into the
whirlybird. Dust and fragments of brick
flew in all directions as the propellers
66
picked up speed, ready to take off.
There was no point taking her with
them, she would be of no use to the
general. The sound of the helicopter
taking off must have been deafening to
her, but #143s helmet cut the
frequency, dampening it. Her hair
billowed as she watched the aircraft rise
into the sky, a condemning look on her
bloodied face.

Number 162 adjusted the flight plan

controls and set the Hawk to autopilot. It
was only eight miles to EDEN and in
two the autopilot would have taken over
anyway as the whirlybird homed in on
the home beacon.
He checked the radar HUD and
was pleased to find that the fleet of
eighteen Hawks were gradually
flickering and blinking out around him
one by one. White blotches on a green
background gradually popped out of
existence. The radar blocking system
was working to full effect, making them
invisible to other aircraft and land-based
hypersonic tracking systems.
67
 A huge mountain range loomed
in the distance. Dotted with forestry it
was the perfect place to hide EDEN.
They were home.

***

The motion of the helicopter made Ray

feel sick. He had experienced sea and
carsickness but never air. It was a
peculiar feeling, as though his stomach
and chest had switched places. He
huddled closer to Sadie in the
impenetrable blackness and put his arms
around her.

They had been ushered into a

storage compartment in the back of the
aircraft and the door shut. They had no
idea where they were going and the only
sound was the shuddering, terrified
breathing of the eighteen other
passengers. He was indescribably tired
yet fought to keep his eyes open. He
wasnt about to leave Sadie alone again.

68
 Is the baby okay? he
whispered. She shrugged her shoulders
feebly.
Are you okay?
She huddled closer, resting her
head on his shoulder.
Where do you think they are
taking us?
Ray pondered for a moment I
couldnt say but I wont lie, I have a
feeling it cant be good.
My hands are tied.
They are.
Im scared.
Me too Ray replied
hopelessly. He kissed her cheekbone
softly, finding it effortlessly in the dark.
After years together they knew each
others nooks and crannies like they
knew their own. He rested his hand on
her stomach reassuringly. A strange
warmth made his palm tingle.
They slept, their heavy
breathing mixing with the low hum of
the choppers propellers.

69
They woke suddenly as the helicopter
shuddered to a halt. The whir of the
propellers died to a low thud thud thud
and then stopped. The door was thrown
open, the light causing them to blink
feverishly. In the doorway stood one of
the soldiers.
Out he rasped.
The captives obeyed his order.
Ray heaved himself up and helped Sadie
to her feet.
It was goof to feel the ground
beneath their feet once more. Rays
stomach was beginning to settle. They
were on a lush mountain outcrop
surrounded by huge black pines, birches
and oaks which cast the plateau into
deep, grim shadow. Security cameras
swiveled on many of them, surveying
every leaf and blade of grass, every
movement of the captive group and their
wardens.
More of the soldiers paced the
cliff edge armed with sniper rifles to
pick off anyone who should approach.
As a child he had always been told to
avoid the mountains but had always
assumed it was for fear that he would
70
get lost. Had his parents known about
this place?
A gravel path cut a strip through
the wood chip ground leading down
from the heli pad to an aperture in the
rock. The soldier at the head of the line
removed a small device resembling a
USB memory stick from the side of his
helmet and plugged it into a console to
the side of the door. After a few seconds
the door slid open and the soldier
retrieved the device. Before them was a
pitch-black tunnel leading in a sharp
incline into the rock face.

They trudged down the pitch black,

rocky passageway following the soldier
at the front of the line. It was a close,
claustrophobic passageway with
stalactites and stalagmites protruding
from the ceiling and floor. Dj vu set in
as Ray took a breath of the damp, dank
air, remembering a caving trip in his
past. He felt surprisingly calm. He
attributed it to shock.
About a hundred feet of twists
and turns into the mountain they came
71
to another metal door, which slid open
automatically. Artificial light burnt
spots onto the captives eyelids as they
blinked out the glare.
A cavernous hall stretched at
least two hundred feet above them.
Gigantic statues of Zeus and Medusa
flanked the doors, their pedestals
grizzled and worn. Zeuss spear and
Medusas deadly glare bore down on
them menacingly. Further into the
edifice were two more decidedly less
intimidating sculptures. On the left
stood a farm hand and on the right an
astronaut. Their inscriptions read the
gods of today. Against the far wall was
a gargantuan statue of a human fetus, a
fifteen-foot hunk of smooth rock. On its
plinth carved letters read WELCOME
TO EDEN. WELCOME HOME. The
place had the same limestone smell as
the passage before.
They were organized into five
lines of five like a platoon of soldiers.
Ray and Sadie stood side by side in the
front line, silent. Next to them was an
elderly couple who had only moved to
the town a year previously. The two
72
couples didnt even know each others
names.
One of the soldiers approached
the group flanked by two more wielding
rifles. He took hold of each side of his
head and with a sharp click lifted off his
helmet. He was bald with an angular,
thin face. He had a sly, ratty look about
him, a cunning grin playing on his lips.
Welcome to EDEN, all of you.
Thank you for volunteering for the
EDEN project. In due course you will
all find out what it is we need you for
he began to pace left and right, studying
the dirty, bloodied faces before him
some of you will make the cut and
others will merely be cut he
chuckled at his own joke and then stared
directly at Sadie. She could feel his hot,
rancid breath on her face.
I hope you enjoy your time
here.
She hocked and spat, the gobbet
of phlegm hitting his cheek with a
smack. As quick as a flash he smashed
his fist into her stomach. She doubled up
and crumpled into a heap on the floor.
Strings of saliva hung from her lips as
73
she coughed, winded. She tried not to
cry or show weakness but the tears
came. If it hadnt been dead before then
the baby definitely was now.
Ray started at the soldier, ready
to maul him. He would stop at nothing,
not bullets nor blades. His stomach had
disappeared, his world turned upside
down. He saw only red, no way of
escape. He would bring the mountain
down.
With amazing strength the
soldier grabbed his arms at the elbows,
stopping him in his tracks. He struggled
and struggled but he was a child in the
hands of a giant. The red mist dissipated
and Ray realized how stupid he had
been to think he could fight this man.
He was seven feet of muscle and killers
instinct.
The soldier planted a heavy
boot on Sadies ribs and smiled broadly.
I think the general may want to
see the pair of you he tossed Ray to
one of the armed guards and indicated to
the lump on the floor that was Sadie.
Cell one.

74
 She was dragged from the floor
by her auburn hair and forced violently
towards an ornate stone staircase
descending further into the mountain.

***

The general sat at his desk, bourbon I

hand. He took a slow sip of the aged
whisky and gasped as fire fluttered in
his belly.
He was surveying the latest
procession of captives from site seven
on his personal security monitors. The
platoon had brought back three hundred
and forty six of the townsfolk for use in
the experiment, a pleasing result. He
leant forward and pressed one of the
flashing switches before him, enlarging
the image for cell one. The image was a
sickly green color due to the night
vision surveillance cameras making the
couple sat together on the cells bench a
pallid, deathly white. The woman was
worse for wear, her white vest soaked in
dirt, soot and blood. The general
guessed that the man with her was her
partner from the way he was caressing
75
her stomach. These were definitely the
subjects. She was pregnant.

The cell was dark and swelteringly hot.

Beads of sweat collected on Rays brow
as he caressed Sadies bump. He felt a
void in his stomach as he thought about
what could have been. He would have
taken the kid swimming, taught it
baseball, if it had been a boy he would
have taught him how to shave
Then it kicked. He barely
noticed the tap on his palm. He scarcely
risked believing the tiny thing in Sadies
womb was still alive and kicking,
literally. She gasped and grabbed Rays
hand. He stared intently at her, smiling
as widely as his face gave room for.
Tough guy Sadie whispered.
They began to laugh hysterically,
feeling the joy only a parent could. Ray
grabbed the back of Sadies head and
kissed her, breathing deep and hard. Her
lips were dry and soft and he held her as
long as he could. Their teeth clashed
lightly and their tongues teased as Ray
went in for another moment of bliss.

76
 The door flew open and banged
against the wall making them jump. The
soldier who had done his best to murder
their child stood in the doorway,
grinning sardonically.
The general wants to see you.
Both of you.
Sadie and Ray lifted themselves
from the solid bench and approached the
behemoth in the doorway. He drew a
cruel blaze from his belt and cut Sadies
ties.
Dont try anything silly now.

***

The generals office was a small room

with computer monitors and controls
against all four walls. A small man in
military fatigues sat behind a desk in the
middle of the room shrouded in smoke
from the cigarette hanging from his lips.
His hair was cut close to the scalp and
his face had the weathered, craggy look
of a war veteran. Low heavy brows cast
cold, blue eyes into shadow. A small,
golden plaque on the desk labeled him
as general Snave.
77
 He looked up wearily from a
glass of something golden brown and
cleared his throat. Sit down, please he
indicated to a pair of chairs opposite
him. The couple took the offer.
As the smell of the generals
cigarette met his nostrils Ray realized
how badly he was craving. Every
synapse in his brain came alive,
screaming
nicotinenicotineNICOTINE! his
fingers twitched and he licked his lips,
itching to appease the urge. To his relief
the general noticed his reaction.
Smoke? the general asked,
holding out an open carton of Camel
straights invitingly. Ray hesitated for a
moment and then stretched out his hand,
half expecting them to be whipped away
again. He slid one out of its paper
packet. The general held out the flame
of a Zippo lighter and Ray leant into it,
relief washing over him as smoke
rushed into his lungs.
I suppose youre wondering
why youre here Snave drawled. It was
more of a statement that a question. He
spoke in a light Scottish brogue that was
78
like a pneumatic drill to the ear. Ray and
Sadie nodded simultaneously.
Well as cooperation is your
only option there can be no problem
telling you he flicked his cigarette ash
into a small glass ashtray and continued
here at EDEN we are workers. We
have a vision. War is coming and we are
making preparations.
So what does war have to do
with us?
Since the early forties the
nations of the world have been in
possession of atomic and hydrogen
weapons. When one of those drops on
this country it will have a lot to do with
you. These are the kind of armaments
the powers will be using when conflict
comes. We will be the ones who
continue the human race.
And what exactly are you
doing to save us all? Sadie asked.
We are creating the strongest
army on earth to carry the pure into a
brave new world.
So why us?
Blood type. Im sure youre
both aware that you share the extremely
79
rare blood type AB negative? This is all
on record from birth and those records
are incredibly easy to access if you
know how. AB negative is the only
blood type which takes well to the
cloning process."
The cloning process? Ray
parroted, disbelieving. He had slipped
into a world of madness. One second
they were killing people left, right and
center and the next talking about saving
the human race and cloning!
Snave sighed and waved lazily
at the three soldiers scattered around the
room. They removed their helmets and
the couples mouths dropped. All three
had the same face, same hair and same
eyes. They were the same person. They
all wore the same sardonic grin.
With our modus operandi an
army of thousands really can be an army
of one. When a number of the same
people are on the battlefield together
they are symbiotic. They do not need to
talk or plan or strategize, they know
instinctively what to do. It is one
consciousness shared across a number
of individuals. The most efficient task
80
force in the world. But there are only a
certain number of times you can use a
gene in the cloning process. Like butter
it begins to spread thin. This is where
you come in.
You cant just steal people
Ray hissed.
We have no choice. Be honest,
would you volunteer yourselves for
this? Would you willingly let us exploit
the pair of you?
So take blood, take skin. Just
let us go.
Youll talk and dont bother
telling me you wont. Its not a risk that
Im willing to take. Its not blood and
skin that we need anyway.
So what do you want?
You are with child Snave
looked at Sadie and then to Ray only
her womb can bear perfect copies of it.
We need your womb. Isnt it a good
future for your child, bettering the
human race? Wouldnt you want your
baby to march into a new, better
world?
Sadie leant forward; her jaw set
not if itll end up a mindless slave like
81
the rest of your men. Its dead anyway,
your man saw to that!
We dont need it alive.
Its better to be individual and
take whats coming than to be a shag
doll for your insane operation.
The general drank deep from his
glass and stubbed out his cigarette half
way down.
Well if you wont cooperate
then you will get whats coming he
turned to the three soldiers take her to
Dr. Jonas and take him back to his cell.
Let them take the moral fucking high
ground.
Before they could resist they
were seized from behind and dragged
towards the door, their chairs crashing
to the floor. Sadie and Ray screamed for
one another as they were pulled in
opposite directions.

Sadie was slammed down onto the

operating table. She screamed
hopelessly as heavy leather straps were
pulled tightly across her wrists and
ankles. She didnt bother to struggle, she
82
knew there was no way out. She tugged
against her bindings and found them as
sturdy as expected. The clones left the
lab leaving her prostrate, spread eagled
and exposed.
Someone was behind her
bustling metallic implements and
muttering.
Just cut her take out the little
baby
She struggled to turn her head
but couldnt take in enough of the room
in her field of vision. The room was
small and cramped with two surgical
sinks situated directly in the center. Dry,
coagulated blood ran down from one of
them to the floor. The white wall and
floor tiles were ringed with dirt and
grime. The place wasnt fit for a toilet,
let alone a laboratory.
Behind her, a metallic clatter
resonated and whoever it was selecting
implements cursed himself for his
clumsiness.
Clumsy clumsy boy yes the
scalpel, very fast quick.
Footsteps behind her. A figure hovered
into view. He was a small man, five feet
83
at the most. He wore the customary lab
coat filthy with blood and grime. He had
small, watery eyes, which darted up and
down her body, a predatory look in
them. His skin sagged and he had very
little hair, giving him the impression of
someone far above his age. His fluid,
youthful movements and lack of frown
lines put him in his forties. He held a
scalpel in his trembling hand as if not
quite sure what to do with it. Sadie
breathed heavily through her nose, fear
creeping into her mind.
The small man lifted up her
bloodied vest and produced a black
marker from an inside pocket. He began
to draw a segmented line from below
her bra line to her navel. He traced his
finger down from her navel towards her
pubis, slowly and gently. If it were any
other man the gesture would have been
sensual but his touch sent a shiver of
disgust down her spine. He sniffed
loudly and wiped his nose on the back
of his hand.
Pretty woman he shuddered
pity, pity.

84
 Sadie tugged her right arm. The
strap was looser than the others. The
doctor let out a high pitched, feminine
laugh as he caressed her again, worming
his index finger under the band of her
knickers. He leant over her and she felt
a small, stubby erection brush against
her thigh.
She tugged again and her hand
slipped a little further out of the strap.
Obviously the soldiers had expected the
doctor to get it over and done with. His
breath stank of rotten teeth as his tongue
played across her cheek. His hand sank
further into her underwear, his fingers
probing her labia.
Her hand came free. She sat as
upright as she could and took what little
hair he had in her fingers, pulling his
head back. She sank her teeth into the
ruffled skin of his neck and shook her
head like a dog, growling ferally. Hot,
metallic liquid poured onto her face and
into her mouth. She ignored the awful
taste and bit again, going for the jugular.
Her teeth clasped around something
stringy and she bit down hard, pulling
away and tearing flesh. A sharp pain
85
washed over her back and she realized
he had sunk his scalpel into her. The
pain became rage and she went in for
another bite but he fell to the floor
before her teeth reached his throat. As
he hit the tiles blood spurted towards the
roof like a Roman candle.
She wasted no time in undoing
the straps. She spat blood onto the floor,
expelling the last remnants of the
disgusting man from her body. She
reached behind herself and wrenched
the scalpel from her own flesh. She
cried out in agony as fresh blood spilled.
She gave the dying doctor one last kick
before heading for the door.

***

Ray was ready. The door clicked open

and the bulky form of one of the soldiers
entered the cell. Ray threw himself at
the man like a lion to an antelope. He
tackled the man against the wall and
punched him hard, square on the jaw.
The surprise attack caught the man off
guard giving Ray a moment to act.
Luckily the soldier wasnt wearing a
86
helmet which gave the slug more
potency. He grabbed the mans
shoulders and threw him to the floor.
His aim was true and his head landed in
the door jam. Ray grabbed the metal
partition and began to slam it closed.
Again and again the door crushed the
soldiers cranium, blood flowing readily
onto the stone floor.
The soldier was still twitching
as Ray frisked him for weapons. A rifle,
knife and a grenade. Ray had never
handled a grenade before. They were a
lot heavier and bulkier than they were in
the movies. He checked the rifles
ammo counter. The digital display read
three hundred and forty, healthy.

He hoped more than anything

that Sady was okay. He needed to be
stealthy. If he was going to get to her it
wouldnt help to bring any more soldiers
down on his head. The tunnels ahead
looked clear and he crept into the
darkness, following the signs for the
labs.

***
87
Snave grinned through a plume of
smoke as he watched Ray creep past
camera 76B. How he had escaped was a
mystery but if he thought he could take
Fort Knox with a slingshot he was very
much mistaken. It wouldnt even be a
hunt, finding and killing this man.
It looked like he was heading
for the labs. Chances were he was trying
to find the girl. Any sensible man would
have left her there and saved himself,
but romance did crazy things to people.
He thanked the havens above that he
wasnt hampered by such clichs of the
psyche.
He cut to camera 85B, which
was stationed outside lab two. Pleasure
turned to unease and anger as the image
flickered into life. He had no men
stationed there, only that wet Dr. Jonas.
A stupid mistake. He rarely made
mistakes, not since serving time in
Nam. The mistake he had made there
nearly cost him his life. He hurled his
bourbon glass at the wall and it
exploded in a shower of glass and
liquid. He wrenched open the desk
88
drawer and retrieved his best friend, his
Colt .47. His father had given it to him
when he turned eighteen back home in
Edinburgh. So far it had thirty-seven
lives to its name. As he rushed out into
the hallway he barked a command into
his walkie-talkie.
Number eight has gotten out. I
want all of you to kill him on sight.
Shoot the bastard dead!

Sadie crept into the hallway, scalpel in

hand. Her back ached horribly but she
fought to control it. She felt something
close to pity for the doctor floundering
on the floor behind her. He was
drowning in his own blood, his throaty
gurgles chasing her down the
passageway.
She stopped and looked both
ways, trying to remember where she had
come from. She had her eyes closed
most of the time trying to wish herself
out of there. She remembered what Ray
had said when they were first
apprehended in town. Escape, get help,
save the baby. There was a second exit
89
in the opposite direction where she
thought she had come from. She was
glad Ray had kissed her one last time.
Taking the only option that she didnt
want to she tore into the darkness at a
sprint, leaving her only love, the father
of her child, behind.

***

General Snave and his entourage of two

guards charged towards the stairwell to
hall 3B. The escapee had to be stopped
before he got to lab two. The cigarette
bounced in his lips as he jogged, the
sound of their footsteps clunking down
the passageways, amplified by the
enclosed space.
***

Ray could feel the sweat on his palms,

humid and clammy. His shirt clung to
his back as he took careful, quiet steps.
He could smell death in the air, the same
odor of copper and hospital waiting
rooms that he had gotten so used to over
the last two days. His stomach
90
somersaulted as he approached the
laboratory hallway.
He had a choice of three.
Considering that he had no idea which
one Sadie might be in he chose logic
and opened the door to lab one. Just as
he opened the door footsteps and
shouting echoed up the tunnel. He
hurled himself head first into the room
and slammed the door closed.
Thousands of clones sat in rows
a hundred long like battery hens. Tier
upon tier of them towered high above
his head. They were motionless, staring.
All thoughts of a daring rescue were
blasted from his mind. He paced the first
tier staring at the blank, gormless faces
of the same person copied innumerous
times. This was sick. This was wrong.
They were nothing more than brainless
corpses awaiting reanimation. Each one
had a barcode tattooed on the back of
their head; a different number nestled in
amongst the black, vertical lines. This
was it, the glorious future of the human
race. Cattle.
The door crashed open and in
marched the general. He held a huge
91
silver handgun, the barrel trained on
Ray. The two soldiers flanking him
raised their rifles and in riposte Ray
raised his. He held it in one hand and the
weight of it caused it to weave
drunkenly.
You want to fight us son?
growled the General through his
cigarette. Ray glanced around the walls.
Electric power lines ran from the floor
up the walls and across the roof like
vines. An idea began to form. He would
take every one of them, every clone and
the General too. Crush the sick
operation. Even if he had to destroy
Sadie and his son, the EDEN project had
to be stopped. He unclipped the grenade
from his belt.
Nope, I dont need to fight
you he produced the explosive.
Snaves eyes grew wide and the
cigarette dropped from his mouth. As
the soldiers opened fire Ray shut his
eyes tight.
He yanked the pin.

92
Sadie had never been a runner. On track
she was merely average. She went under
the philosophy that you should only ever
run if you were on fire or being chased
and at the moment she was neither. But
right now she could have beaten the
best.
Her breath tore at her throat.
Cold hands grasped her lungs and
squeezed. She would stop at nothing. A
deafening boom sent dust and debris
sifting down from the roof. She dodged
rocks as fire bloomed like a sunset in the
tunnel behind her. Ahead of her was
daylight and behind her death. This was
it, the end. She burst through a crevice
in the rock and tore into the underbrush,
kicking up dirt. She stopped to look
back at the mountain as the chud chud
chud of helicopter propellers rose
above the din. The top of the rock face
exploded and fire engulfed the
whirlybirds, hurling them into the sky.
Flames belched from the passage behind
her. It was almost like a volcanic
eruption as an avalanche of rock and
wood cascaded after her.

93
 Dozens of black figures sprinted
through the brush after her. Bullets blew
tree trunks apart. Angered shouting and
screams of pain echoed down the
mountain. The flaming, blackened
carcass of a helicopter smashed through
the trees close by and continued to
barrel through the woods spitting flame
in all directions. She was soaked with
her own blood as twigs and branches cut
cruel gashes in her flesh.

***

India wandered the streets, her eyes half

closed to keep out the smoke. The
tarmac was hot beneath her bare feet
and she kept moving so as not to burn
them. She had tried for hours now but
she couldnt find a new mummy and
daddy anywhere. She couldnt drive
anywhere, she didnt know how. And at
any rate she was too young. She didnt
want to get into any more trouble in case
someone hit her again.
She knew she smelled funny
and her clothes were all black with soot,
but she couldnt change. All of her stuff
94
was in her house and that was on fire,
and fire hurt people. She had been
burned once. Her parents were in there
too. All of her stuff except Harry. The
bad man had taken him away by the
grocery store. He probably didnt keep
him. Grown ups didnt like bears. She
liked bears, especially Harry. She trotted
along the street, past burning houses and
piles of rubble.
Harry was nestled in a small
pile of bricks and she used all of her
strength to push them off. Half of his
head was gone, the polyester melted by
the head of the blaze. One of his hands
had been torn free too and his white,
fluffy insides hung out in tatters. She
clasped him to her chest, smiling
elatedly. She wasnt alone anymore.
She sat down on the street
ignoring the heat on her behind and
thighs. She crossed her legs and placed
Harry in the crevice. She would wait for
a new mummy and daddy to come
along. They would make Harry better
again.

95
The old Toyota bounced over pothole
after pothole shaking the red cap from
Wallys head. He cursed the lax attitude
the town took to repairing these old
back roads.
He couldnt wait to see Myelin.
A week at his sisters was all well and
good but he was damned if he didnt
miss his comfort zone by the end of it. A
nice beer, a bacon sandwich and Sport
Center with his wife and hed be home.
He passed the oldest oak in a hundred
miles and knew he was back on his own
land. He shifted the car into second and
depressed the accelerator.
The car roared across the crest
of the hill and his mouth fell open at
seeing the devastation below. The town
was in ruins.

His shoes stuck to the tarmac as he

paced the ruined streets. Shop fronts and
houses were charred and smoking. Some
of them were still ablaze, the flames
licking the sky like the flags of hell. He
covered his mouth with the neck of his
96
sweater so as not to breathe in the smog.
There was no one to be seen. A
blackened hunk of something hung from
a lamppost, tiny strings of smoke
billowing in the hot breeze. A sickly
sweet, nauseating smell hung in the air.
It was like walking into a photograph
from Hiroshima in the forties. He ran as
fast as he could to his house and
smashed open the front door.

Myelins eyes fluttered open.

Her vision was dark and blurry but she
could just about make out the hazy
figure of a young man stood over her.
He held a penlight to her eyes and for a
moment she had to close them again.
Shes got a shattered collar
bone the voice came a perforated
lung, heavy blood loss and judging by
these injuries she will need amputation,
but shes not dead. If we get her to a
hospital quickly theres a good chance
you wont lose your wife sir.
She could hear sirens outside.
The whoosh of fire trucks spraying
water made hope flutter inside her.
Wallys face hovered into view. She
97
tried to smile but energy failed her.
Perhaps everything would be okay. She
hadnt dared to hope before but here
was Wally. Her knight in shining armor.
She closed her eyes. She slept. She
waited.

The gas station attendant stares at me as

if Im an alien. Like hes never seen
anything like me before. Or maybe
thats me staring back at him.
Everything seems brighter now. He puts
the petrol hose into the car clumsily, still
staring. I wonder if ill ever forget this
man. I wonder when the pain will go
away. Its been a year now and still I
ache. Im tired. I spend most nights at
the window, ready to move on. Its been
a thousand hotel rooms and near enough
that many sleepless nights.
I can hear the baby on the back
seat. Hes happy, oblivious to all of
whats happened. I wonder sometimes
how ill tell him, if telling him is the
right thing to do. Maybe ill just spend
the rest of my days running from them.
They still follow me now; I see them in
98
the corner of my eye. Watching, waiting
for the time to approach.
The sun is beaming down today;
I can see the heat waves across the
prairie before me. The attendant grunts
and flicks his cigarette into the dirt. I
toss a few notes towards him, only what
my mother and father could throw my
way. How many more tanks of gas
before I find somewhere to rest?
Another question with no answer. Next I
think ill try the coast. There might be
hope there. I have answered one
question though.

I think ill call him Ray.

99
FAMILY

My cave is warm - the fire light dim

I hear traveller's voices - can't help but
grin
I sharpen my flint knife on a rock
For I must kill to feed my flock
The trees cast shadows long and wide
We are but silent, glowing eyes
We burst from tree line screaming hate
They draw their guns but it's too late
We huddle round the embered fire
The starving winter is no more
I grab a rag to turn the spit
Be warned - don't go out on the moors

100
 GODESS

I can still feel his knife scraping

against my bones. He cut me that deep,
yet I can only just feel the pain. I can
still remember the warmth of my blood
as it cascaded over every inch of me. I
guess it must have been the tortures of
the damned. I had done some terrible
things in my life.
I was given time to think about
them.
I was thin, almost a skeleton. He
starved me for weeks, giving me tiny
scraps of food and only half a glass of
water a day. I can still feel that knife as
if it were a lovers kiss. Its tenderness,
its bitterness and maybe, just maybe, a
little melancholy. At least when he was
cutting me I felt something.
In the wide open spaces
between his tortures I would sit,
shackled to my chair and I would only
feel. The worst thing in the world is
when you feel nothing. When you
retreat inside yourself to hide from the
101
pain and the darkness. I never thought
that it was possible to feel nothing until
I met him. Until we took our
relationship to dark, exciting places.
To the cellar.
It all began one night in... Hell,
I dont know which month it was.
Suffice to say it was a long time ago.
We met in the Bahama Bar. It was the
hottest bar in town, the place to be on a
Thursday night. Thursday because of the
student discount. And not just anyone
could get in, oh no, you had to dress to
impress. The bouncers were renowned
for being strict and unforgiving. I once
saw a punter beaten to a pulp for lashing
out. Little did I know that the punter
was a lucky, lucky man. He had felt
pain. I felt much worse.
I hover over him now. I am
directly above him, looking down on
that face which I wanted to break so
many times. So many days I spent
wanting to hurt him, to draw his blood. I
straddle him. My hips surround him. He
stirs, his eyes fluttering open. As I look
down on him my gaze falls on the pillow
102
to his left, my right. I know that this is
the one I will use. Its on my right,
because its the right one to use.
I sat at my table alone. All of
my friends had joined the dance floor. I
was never much of a dancer; I never had
the moves, the co-ordination or the
sheer sex for it. I had been fat in my
early teens, and not just fat. I had
weighed in at sixteen stone at the age of
thirteen. The only thing I had coming in
the post was a heart attack. Everyone
mocked me, and I mean everyone.
My father used to call me
piggy and flobdog. He used these
names with a smile, as if he could see
some enjoyment in the jeers when in
fact every time those words left his
mouth I shrank a little. I would get
much the same from everyone at school.
My classmates used to ask me to chase
them, knowing that I would never catch
them.
I can remember the damp smell,
the thick air. It was thick with the smell
of my sweat, and indeed his. He used to
sweat whilst he beat me. He used to
103
sweat more whilst he fucked me. It
wasnt rape. I wanted it. I knew I would
get food that way.
It must have become an effort
after a while, I guess. The beatings used
to go on for hours. Sometimes he used
to wait until I was on the floor in a pool
of my own blood, snoring but still
awake in a haze of dull pain. Then he
would touch himself. He would leave
his fluids on me, all over me. He would
fucking spunk on my broken ribs. At
these times I wanted to kill him. I
wished I had the strength to fight back. I
wished for that more than almost
anything.
I pushed apple cosmos and
Jaeger shots into myself to escape not
quite being involved with my friends. I
noticed him watching me. No, staring at
me. I should have turned away then but
I was young, naive. I wasnt an ugly
woman back then. I had just turned
nineteen and I looked it, maybe a little
older. When he approached me my
stomach turned somersaults. He was
pretty. About six foot, dark, handsome.

104
He had just the right amount of stubble,
just enough to tickle my chin as I kissed
him.
I kissed him pretty quickly; I
guess the cosmos and shots may have
played a part in that. His breath tasted of
alcohol and cigarettes but I didnt care.
Just feeling him against my skin was
enough.
He opened up to me. He told me
that he always kept a knife under the top
mattress of his bed, in case of burglars.
Even back then I somehow knew I
should remember that. It scared me a
little, the thought that this man was
willing to hurt people. But in equal
measure i could feel my vagina growing
wet. Then he took me. He made
everything melt away in seconds. He
made the mental fat just drip off of me.
In that one drunken moment he made
everything just...
Theres an old saying: if you
kill a cow, youve got to make a burger.
Thats what he made out of me. He
turned what I was, a beautiful, bovine,
drunken creature, into meat.
105
 And I loved it. It didnt matter
that I didnt know his name. He turned
my body into a sexual, no, a sensual
shrine. His tongue was beautiful against
my skin, like petals floating on the pond
in a Japanese garden. I felt like the
untouched geisha who had defied all of
the laws of her existence. I felt
rebellious, sexual and utterly lost.
My head cracked into the door
frame as he led me over the threshold. It
hurt but we laughed about it. His
bedroom smelled of opium incense.
Once we hit the bed I took him in my
mouth, my pussy, even my ass. I loved
him. All I wanted to do was please his
basic desire. When I took him in my
mouth he groaned with pleasure, his
back arching in a fit of ecstasy.
I climbed on top of him and
took his warmth inside my most
intimate places. I screamed with
pleasure at every second and so did he,
recreating the throbbing of the sea with
his every movement. It was wholesome,
fulfilling, and perfect. It was heaven.
Then he punched me.
106
 I can remember my nose
exploding with blood, the pain and the
tears coming almost a second too late,
sort of like a delayed reaction. I can
remember flopping back onto the
covers, stunned, like a fish with a hook
through its lip. Then he punched me
again. This time in the place that had
felt so perfect just seconds before.
I have had time to think of these
things. Time to think about everything.
Time to hate him for everything.
My master.
I woke up shackled to a metal
chair. I tried my best to move my hands
and feet but I was bound. My hands had
a good inch of pull before the chains
took over and my feet... my feet were
strapped to the legs of the chair, metal
bands holding them tight to the metal
chair legs, the hinges polished iron.
I guess he must have knocked
me out. I was in total darkness. I
couldnt see even a foot in front of me.
That was when I first smelt the damp,
cloying, awful smell. I would soon come
to call this smell my friend. I would
107
soon come to call this smell comfort,
safety and even...
... Home.
I dont know how long I sat in
the dark for. Then I pissed myself, I
couldnt hold it any longer. He fed me.
He fed me some celery I think. And
some meat. The texture told me it was
something like pork. I ate readily even
though I tasted my own tears with every
mouthful. I knew back then that I would
need to conserve every breath, every bit
of energy, if I was ever going to break
my shackles.
This place became my home.
God knows how long I spent in that
darkness and trust me, it was darkness. I
screamed. I screamed for my mother. I
screamed for her more than anything. I
can remember her smell, a subtle
lavender scent. Her warmth never meant
so much as it did when I knew; deep
down, that I would never feel it again.
Call it future sight, a sixth sense, call it
what you will but I felt it.
I knew that this was my new
home. I pled and I even taunted. I called
108
him a limp-dicked cunt once. I can
remember my voice echoing slightly.
After this I knew that I was in a fairly
small room. I counted every second,
every minute. And that was when the
beatings started.
His first blow hit my cheek.
That hurt, but not so much. His second
blow hit me right in the nose. It was
already broken but it bled a lot. Then he
punched me in the ribs, the kidneys, the
throat. That was the worst one, the
throat. I couldnt breathe properly for a
while, about three... no... Four... days. I
get confused when its always dark. Its
always night in the dark. When the evil
things creep out.
The straps fastened securely. I
could feel it, hear the leather scrape
against the buckles. I didnt fight, I
could barely move. I could feel my own
breath on my face. Heat, my own breath,
worse than the chair. My head is so
heavy with the weight of the box. I cant
move. I cant breathe. I havent been
able to see. And thats when he started
to cut my legs.

109
 The cunt is snoring, just like he
used to. As if its the best sleep hes
ever had. As if he doesnt even
remember me, even though Im here in
the basement. Or so he thinks.
I concentrate everything in my...
body isnt the word. Its something else,
something less frail. I concentrate so
hard. So hard that it hurts, I get that
cold feeling. The killing cold. I watch
him as he rolls onto his back and the
sigh of it gives me hope. And suddenly
the pillow becomes solid in my hands.
I tried to escape. He untied me
for a beating and I made a run for the
door. His hand shot out faster than
anything Ive ever seen. I still dont
know why hes doing this to me.
That was when he cut my foot
off. I never thought an axe could do the
job so quickly. I still feel the pain of it,
even though my foot isnt there
anymore. I can remember the sound, a
swift whip crack as the bone shattered
and my foot came away from my body.
I feel an ache half way down
my left shin, no, below my left shin.
110
There is nothing. Only darkness. And
the ache. I miss my foot. It hurts so
much. Im not sure where my foot is
right now. He beat me, shackled me
back into my chair and left. He put the
box back on. He took my foot with him.
The revenge is...
I ate my foot. My left foot. He
boiled it, or so he told me. Made sure
the germs were all gone. I refused and
he stabbed me in the shoulder. I only
bled a little. I cried even less. I have run
out of tears. I ate every bit. And between
every bite there was a punch.
I always thought that child birth
would be the worst pain ever. I was
pregnant for the first three months in the
cellar. I had felt it, an all consuming
ache; sickness tore every morning and
well into the afternoons. The most
beautiful, endurable parasite.
I thought that until I had a
curling iron stuffed in my pussy. It was
turned on.
And then I knew it was dead.
...Best served cold.
111
 You want to know what killed
me. He left the door open.
Over the past few months he has
become a drunk. He has gotten more
and more sloppy. Ive heard arguing
upstairs. Ive heard him arguing with
what sounds like a womans voice.
I am going to do anything I can.
Anything I can to make sure that she
doesnt end up down here with me.
Perhaps he is capable of love,
affection... but I dont give a shit.
He has gotten more and more
sloppy. My teeth are all broken now.
Even my molars. I tried to chew my way
out of my prison. It has taken me... time
doesnt exist. It hasnt for a long time. I
have become thin enough to slip out of
my manacles. I havent been eating the
food he brings me. Ive left it for the rats
which have so often tried to nibble at
my foot. My hands slide freely from the
iron bands.
Its an effort but I stand up,
propping myself up on the arm of my
chair. Something I havent done in a
while. The door is open. The door to the
112
cellar. I hopped slowly towards the
light, my legs... leg, almost failing me.
Im not spent yet. I have one last trick
up my sleeve, one last fantasy. My
trembling leg can somehow still
navigate stairs, with a little help from its
old friend, the banister.
I reach the hallway and oh... the
light, electric light. I can feel it on my
skin, like the fleas I have become
friends with over the last whatever yet
stronger, more clinical, more somehow
secure. All I want to do is to collapse
and bathe in it yet no.
I have a mission. My trial isnt
over yet.
I know it is his bedroom. I know
because I remember so vividly how it
looks, the smells, the opium scent and
the sex, the feeling of it all. The last
thing I ever saw.
The woman beside him is so
peaceful, so asleep. She even snores a
little. The ache in my legs is unbearable.
I remember the doorframe. I remember
my head hitting it as he carried me
through, almost as if we were married. I
113
remember laughing about it. I remember
how he made me feel.
Special.
Perfect.
Malevolent.
I straddle him, careful not to put
too much weight on him. He is in a
drunken slumber. I hold the pillow just
right.
Fuck that.
I throw the pillow away.
I kiss his neck and he... it isnt
even a moan, more a grumble. He turns
his neck towards me, offering his flesh.
I kiss a little harder.
The cunt likes it rough.
I bite hard and deep. I dont
hesitate. I swallow.
I relish the taste of his blood
and I bite again.
This time I bite his cheek. His
flesh is warm, hot even. I bite and
swallow. I bite until I feel the sinewy
strings of his jugular as they catch on
114
my teeth and pull and snap and more
and more blood sprays.
Somehow he doesnt struggle.
His veins burst under my teeth and hot
iron fills my mouth. His screams feel far
away, dreamlike. If I can kill this man,
what is left of my life will be complete.
It was the woman who attacked
me. She came out of nowhere and I
wasnt ready. I hadnt even seen her
leave the bed. She hit me with full force.
The floor felt surprisingly calm. It was a
good place to be. Punches rained down
on me, one or two landing in my eyes.
As my head started to feel more and
more like a ball of linen stuffing I
played my last card.
I guess she didnt want to be
saved.
I stuffed my hand between his
mattress and the springs and drew out
the eight inch kitchen knife. He made
that mistake long ago.
Trust.
I stuck it in her.

115
 Hard.
Right in her throat.
Sometimes youve got to care
about yourself more than someone
elses torture. I can see why she would
defend him. He spilled me some lies and
within one night made me his play toy.
Perhaps things were different with her,
perhaps he actually wanted her. Perhaps
shed even known about me.
I fucked her neck with the knife
like hed fucked me, hard and fast. I
stabbed again and again and then just
stopped stabbing, leaving the knife in
the wound and sawing back and forth,
the image of his purple headed tiny little
cock in my mind, the blood oozing, her
shivering in my arms as i fucked her and
i fucked her well, flesh now spooling
out of the wound, her head lolling left to
right in my arms as the last notes of her
life played a song, sad to her but joyous
to me.
I felt sorry for her for one second. Then
I looked down at where my foot used to
be. I slipped my fingers into my filthy,

116
stained underwear and felt where my
softest, most private places used to be.
Blood sprayed all over me. I
basked in it. I watched her suffocate;
choking on gouts of blood which filled
her throat every second that I was
sawing her head from her shoulders. I
smoothed her into my skin. One life
lost, another sustained. She wore a
flattering pyjama set. I had hung naked.
I stuck her with the knife right in her
stupid, dying eye.
Numb.
Blood spray.
I bathed.
With a side of...
These days I make love to my
husband every night. I do it for the
comfort. I do it for the warmth. That
basement was so cold. We both love
every second of it. I make him happy
and that makes me happy. And he
pleases me too. He makes me feel like a
queen. He makes me feel like a goddess.
I bask in his scent, the feeling of his skin

117
on mine. And if I bite and scratch hard
enough...
... I bask in his blood.

118
 GLOW

The light, blinding.

The film of hair, slipping back to let in
the sour, medical air.
Latex fingers probing nostrils and
mouth.
Swaying motion, the room a blur of
strange creatures and strange boxes with
small, colourful displays.
Aflutter of the heart as his mouth
stretches wide and his eyes scrunch tight
against the glare, the tiny wrinkles
around them making him appear old far
beyond his years.
And then, a wailing, keening scream
that makes the room and every soul in it,
glow.

119
 DO YOU READ ME?

Echo One to Apollo TS, do you read

me? Over.

We read you loud and clear Echo

One.

Whats your location, Apollo TS?

Were by the bridge now, sir, about

two clicks from the touchdown point.
Its cold up here.

Can you give me a visual? Somethings

messing with the signal from your head
cams.

Well theres the bridge, obviously. Its

about twelve miles long at my estimate,
Echo One. Beyond that I cant see much
at all, seems to be some sort of weather
anomaly. Its so still up here.

120
Half a mile ahead you should reach the
crater, Apollo TS. Any visual on that?

I can see the ridge of it from here. Its

huge! The bridge seems to run a course
around behind it, kind of looks like a
highway.

Can you give me a rough estimate on

the size of that, Apollo TS?

The bridge or the crater?

The crater.

Id put it at about three miles across,

Echo one.

Proceed, Apollo TS.

Whats your current position Apollo

TS?

Weve reached the lip of the crater.

This thing really is huge.

121
Can you see any other landmarks,
Apollo?

In the centre there seems to be some

sort of hole, sort of like a giant plug
hole. Way out in the distance theres
something jutting up like a giant needle.
I cant see it too well from here.

Proceed into the crater Apollo, constant

visuals.

Its very steep, Echo. Im not sure

were going to be able to scale it.

Proceed Apollo TS.

As you wish. Were descending into

the crater. Getting up and over the lip is
a little tough in this suit. Ill try to jump
it.

Affirmative Apollo.

Okay well the lower gravity carried me

up a few feet, just... pulling up... now.
Okay, Im looking right down into the
122
crater now. Its rocky up until about
twenty feet down and then the terrain
just turns into a sheers, smooth wall.

Can you plant your camera at your

location?

I can try. Okay, just getting a good shot

now. Are you seeing this Echo one?

The signals pretty bad but were

getting an image now, at least.

What can you see back at base?

Pan left to right; let us get a good look

at this. God, it is massive isnt it?

Youre not wrong, Echo. Shall we

proceed?

Affirmative, Apollo.

Okay, well, were descending the rock

wall now; its almost like steps, Echo
One. Below us it falls off sharply to a
smooth wall.
123
Proceed.

How do you suppose we are to do that,

Echo one?

Your shuttle will have been equipped

with abseiling gear for this very
purpose. Rappel down the side of it, if
you can, how deep did you say it is?

I didnt, Echo. Id estimate about a

thousand feet.

Proceed, Apollo.

Im not sure about this Echo. Shouldnt

we send a probe in or something? I
mean Christ; youre saying we should
climb a thousand feet down a steep rock
face into a bowl, with no way to get
back out. Were not equipped for this.

Do your duty astronaut.

What are we doing up here, Echo

One?

124
Thats classified information, Apollo
TS. All I can tell you is that we think
there may be tunnels down into the
moons surface scattered across the
landscape.

And I take it you want us to enter the

hole?

Only one of you. The others will need

to stay topside, one to guide the climb
down and the other to place the homing
beacon.

Affirmative Echo, even if I have a bad

feeling were not being told everything
here.

Apollo TS to Echo One, do you read

me?

Affirmative Apollo, loud and clear.

Whats your position?

125
Were almost at the hole now, about
fifty feet up. Well be there shortly. It
was a tough climb down, Echo.

Im sorry to hear that Apollo, out.

Over and out.

Echo One, come in.

I read you Apollo.

Were right at the edge of the hole.

God its black down there. Simms
dropped a rock down there.

Did you hear it hit the bottom?

Negative.

This sounds promising. Proceed into

the hole.

It penetrates the surface at a roughly

five degree angle, should make the
climb down easier. Who needs to go?
126
It needs to be you Apollo, on account
of your radio uplink. Were going to
need you to give us a description of
everything that you see down there.

Typical. Affirmative Echo One. Ill

just attach my cam to Simms.

Come in Echo One, are you picking up

my visual?

Negative Apollo, weve just got fuzz

on our screens.

Okay. Im climbing down now. Its

black as all hell down here. The walls
are hard to grab onto, theyre so smooth.
I cant see anything below me.

Affirmative, Apollo. We had a little bit

of a visual back there.

You read my camera?

Affirmative, only a little flash though.

127
Okay... well Im still dropping down.
Ive... wait, Ive got a foothold. Simms,
wait a second, stop lowering me.
Theres... something stuck in the wall. I
need to turn my torch on, wait... right,
there we go. Uh... are you still reading
me Echo?

Affirmative Apollo, whats your

visual?

Well, this might sound a bit funny sir

but it sort of looks like a bone. A Tibia,
I think. Is that the bone in your leg? It
looks like one of those. Im just getting
a sample now. Okay, sample secure. Im
going to proceed.

What can you see Apollo?

Bones, a lot more of em. Some are

sticking out of the walls but most are
just flat in the rock. Some are even
curved round with the walls. Whats
going on here Echo?

128
Thats classified, just continue your
descent.

Uh, theres... theres something moving

down here sir. I can hear it, oh, oh fuck!
Theres something black coming up the
wall! Pull me up, pull me up!

What is it Apollo?

I dont know sir, I dont know; oh shit;

just get me out of this hole, Simms!
Okay, theyre pulling me up now, my
god, I dont know what that thing was
but damned if I want to see it again.

Im going to need a full report from

you on this Apollo. A full disclosure,
too.

You can have whatever you want out

of me just so long as I get out... oh fuck,
my ropes gone!

Repeat, Apollo.

129
My ropes just snapped or something,
Ive got my feet against one wall and
my back against the other side. Im
about thirty feet from the surface. Oh
god, I just looked down. Jesus Christ my
legs hurt.

Can you climb up Apollo?

I think so, I dont know. Ill try. Im

trying to slide my back up the wall but I
cant get the leverage. Fuck its a long
way down. At least that thing doesnt
seem to be following me up here.
Maybe I was just getting spooked by the
dark, I dont know. Ive made it about
seven feet back up now. God I hope my
feet dont slip. Ten... twelve.

Just keep talking to me Apollo, youre

doing fine.

Seventeen... twenty... twenty-one... oh

shit its just gone dark!

Confirm your status, Apollo.

130
Its just gone black in here, like
someone put a lid on the top! Im almost
there now, five more feet. What if I
cant get out, Echo?

Keep breathing Apollo, youre going to

make it out.

One foot left... Im there, just pulling

myself up now. Okay, Im out. Its gone
black up here on the surface; I cant
make any sense of it.

And your crews whereabouts?

Unconfirmed. Ive found my rope; it

was just laying there on the ground
unmanned.

What can you see Apollo?

Its tough to see much, wait, oh my

god... something just flew over me,
something huge! Thats why it went
dark in the hole! Oh my god... theyre
here... theyre actually here!

131
Describe what youre seeing Apollo.

Oh my god its a massive ship! Uh, Im

just blown away. My god thats
travelling quick... wait, its stopping.

Can you describe the craft to me

Apollo?

Its absolutely gigantic, easily a mile

across. Totally round, looks to be sort of
discus shaped. Its pitch black. Its
humming, its just started humming.
Wait... oh, um... its...

Whats it doing Apollo?

Its coming down, sir.

Im losing you Apollo, say again.

Its coming down, somethings

opening up... oh, its beautiful, the most
beautiful thing I ever saw... the most
beautiful light...

132
Apollo the signals dropping by the
second, i cant hear you. Apollo?
Apollo?

Apollo to Echo One, do you read?

We read you Apollo; weve been trying

to reach you for hours. Whats your
status?

I guess I mustve been knocked out

Echo One. Ive just woken up in the dirt.
Im just looking around now.

Do you know your whereabouts

Apollo?

Uh, theres not much around me at all,

just dunes. Im out of the crater now, at
least.

Do you remember the craft that you

saw?

133
Affirmative. How the hell could i
forget that? I think my camera may have
got a visual.

Copy that Apollo. Can you move?

Yep, Im just getting up now.

You need to get back to your shuttle

and try to beam that file to us.

What about Simms and Hammond?

Frankly Apollo, at this point in your

mission those files are more important.
You may have just made the biggest
discovery mankind has ever seen.

Apollo to Echo One, do you read?

Affirmative Apollo, were not reading

your visuals at all. Your camera
probably became damaged at some
point. Youll need to continue with your
description.
134
Well i recognise where i am now, Im
close to the shuttle now. Just up this
ridge a little... oh shit!

Whats your situation Apollo?

Its them, sir. The actual EBEs

themselves. Ive just ducked down
behind a ridge.

Apollo, listen carefully. I need you to

give me a detailed description of the
EBEs. This is a matter of worldwide
importance.

Well, theyre hard to describe, sir.

Theyre about six feet tall, black or dark
grey skin. Theyre vaguely humanoid,
thin, long limbs. Their back and front
legs sort of jut off of their bodies like
the arms on a praying mantis. Theyve
got two smaller arms hanging from their
rib cages. Their heads look sort of like a
sting ray.

135
Confirm that, Apollo. Their heads look
like a sting ray?

Affirmative, sort of like a bony plate

shaped like a sting ray with a big pair of
black eyes on the front. God, Im about
twenty feet away from them. I dont
think theyve seen me yet.

How many of them are there, Apollo?

Three, as far as i can see.

Apollo, the order Im about to give you

is the most crucial of this entire mission.
Its what science has been waiting for. I
want you to try to initiate contact with
the EBEs.

Are you serious?

Absolutely, Apollo.

But we dont even know if theyre

hostile yet.

136
You have to do this Apollo. This will
be the first physical contact between the
human race and extraterrestrial life.

Sir, Im not ready for that kind of

responsibility.

Its not about responsibility, its about

making first contact with an alien race.
This is your duty to your planet and
your government.

Affirmative. Im climbing up over the

ridge now.

Good Job Apollo. Were all very proud

of you.

Thank you, sir. Im approaching the

shuttle and the EBEs now. Theyre quite
a bit taller than six feet. Oh shit, ones
just seen me. Jesus Christ, theyre fast!
Its right in front of me. Its looking
right at me. My god theyre eyes are
beautiful. I think theyre talking to each
other, kind of a weird chatter sound.
137
Were reading it here. This is
extraordinary, Apollo.

Ive just realised Im backing away

without even meaning to. Im a little
nervous here sir, I must admit. They
definitely seem more animal than
intelligent and I cant see one of the
craft. Maybe these guys arent the
intelligent ones... one of them is stood
on his hind legs, hes holding
something... unh!

Come in App...

He just threw something at me!

Something heavy... oh my god its
Simms, theyve torn him in half!

Get yourself out of there Apollo!

Im running, theyre right on my tail,

theyre right on my tail!

Just keep running Apollo.

138
I cant breathe in this goddamn suit...
need to get to the shuttle...

Get yourself to the shuttle if you can

Apollo, shut and lock the door.

Im almost there, Ive doubled back,

theyre still right on me but that
confused them a bit... twenty feet,
fifteen, ten, five... Im in, the door is
locked... damn! One of them just
slammed into the side, hes broken the
porthole!

Try to block it with something,

Apollo.

Like what? Everythings floating... ill

try taping a suit over the window or
something... wow! One of the craft just
flew over! Theyve taken off; theyre
running away from it!

Is this craft the same as the last one?

139
No. smaller, faster. I didnt really get a
good look Echo One.

Whats the status of your shuttle,

Apollo?

Everything looks fine, a massive dent

in the side but everyth... no, wait... oh
no, no, NO!

Whats your situation Apollo?

Theyve removed parts... the ignition

module, the thruster controls... theyve
gutted the entire control panel!

You need to conserve your Oxygen,

Apollo. How many tanks do you have?

Three I think. Yes, three. But thatll...

thatll only last me two days!

Were aware of that, Apollo. Youve

done an incredible service to your
country.

140
But, you cant just leave me... Echo?
Echo One? Hello... HELLO?

141
 AUTUMN

In the time it takes for me to fall

The light afternoon breeze carrying me
down
Children will be born and role models
will die
The smell of Werther's boiled sweets
and coffee
Or even brandy on their last breaths
With the coming winter
In the time it takes for my browning
carcass to sway to a stop
Resting on the slowly petrifying grass
My mother will be fading into a few
months rest
In the time it takes for the sun to travel
west
I will be swept up with the rest
And burned as a sacrifice
To cook a Joyous family's supper
Of chestnuts and marsh mallows
142
In the time it takes them to sweep up the
ashes
I will be forgotten

143
 BAR FLIES

He could tell she was married.

He'd always had a sixth sense when it
came to the opposite sex. He could tell
by the way she held her Apple Martini
Cosmo by the bowl of the glass and not
the stem. He could tell by how she
purposely avoided his gaze.
The uncomfortable truth was
that the married ones invited your stare,
practically begged for it. They tried to
allure you with low cut tops and knee
high skirts. It was a vain attempt to
prove to themselves more than anyone
else that they weren't tied down. That
their youthful days in clubs and bars
weren't over.
At any rate it was the married
ones he liked best, they were an easy
catch. Sometimes he liked to imagine
their husbands trapped in their suburban
nightmare of worry wondering why
their wives were out so late whilst he
fucked them.

144
 This girl was different. Her eyes
purposely avoided the men in the
Bahama bar, as if daring someone to
approach her. It just made her all the
sexier. Sure she was easy on the eyes.
An impressive rack just barely
concealed beneath a modest but tight-
fitting shirt. Long, shiny brunette hair
and legs that went on for days. None of
it compared, however, to the 'touch me
and you lose a hand' vibe coming off of
her. Now that was a turn on.
He considered buying her
another Cosmo but decided against it. A
woman like her wouldn't appreciate the
clich' and at any rate he didn't want to
waste the money on a rejection. He
stood up, adjusted his purposefully
undone bow tie (he was going for the
young George Clooney look tonight)
and approached her table.
"If I didn't know full well that
the only reason you've come over here is
because you think you've got a chance at
fucking my mouth, I might've found you
vaguely attractive."
British accent. Very sexy.
145
 "Scuse' me?" He replied, setting
down his half empty Jack and Coke and
falling into the only free leather arm
chair.
"You just want to pick up a
floozy tonight. Ive seen you in here
before, I know how you operate."
"I'm pretty sure I could pick up
a lovely little thing like you" he grinned,
mock-flexing his biceps. She sighed and
stared elsewhere, a look of disdain on
her face.
"So, you got a name, or should I
just call you beautiful?" He took a sip of
his Jack, his eyes following the delicate
curves of her legs.
"Joanne."
"Well its nice to meet you,
Joanne. I'm Larry."
"Perhaps you could try talking
to me in a way that doesn't spell tacky
romance flick?"
"Sure baby, whatever makes
you happy" he felt his cheeks flush. He

146
didn't like this one bit. Bitch had him by
the balls.
"You want to fuck me, right?"
She leant towards him, gently biting her
bottom lip. His leg began to twitch
slightly as he felt to beginnings of a
hard-on. "Yes maam" was all he could
whisper.
I see you in here every Friday.
You buy the same drinks for the same
sort of girls and you always leave with
someone different. Can I ask you
something?" Her eyes locked him in
place. Much of the hostility had
disappeared, now replaced by a strange
look of fascination not unlike a child
scrutinising their first ant's nest. He
nodded, his head swimming.
"How can you act out the same
bullshit routine every week, fuck
someone and just kick them out the next
day? How do you call that 'having a
life'? I mean to say, do you know how
precious doing something meaningful
with your life is?"
All he could do was stare at her,
speechless. He was vaguely aware of his
147
butt cheeks clenching and releasing
rhythmically. For a moment he totally
forgot his surroundings, the dull
thudding of the drum and bass on the
bar's PA, hell, even his own name was a
mystery to him. The only things left in
the world were the girl and her eyes,
those hardened pools of ice, so attractive
yet so terrifying.
"Come with me, I want to show
you something." She dragged her tongue
across her upper lip seductively, took
him by the hand and led him towards the
exit.
"You see Larry; I used to hate
people like you. Now I just pity you."
She led him over the threshold of her
house, a small, modernesque terraced
semi-detached on Main. Once inside, he
took in his surroundings. An open plan
kitchen stretched out to his right whilst
on his left was a small, quaint living
room.
Her choice of decor wasn't
exactly to his taste, all elegant Japanese
style vases and canvases, comfort
cushions and concealed cupboards. He
148
preferred his oak panelled condo in
upper Riverton with its two acres of
land and Olympic sized swimming pool
out in the garden.
Without releasing his hand she
led him towards the stairs. His heart
skipped a beat in his excitement. A
woman this fierce would be a great fuck.
He could taste her sweat now, smell
their friction funk.
It wasn't the stairs which she
took him to however, but a small
wooden door to the side of them which
had previously been obscured in
shadow. She removed a black torch
from a hook to the left of the door and
rummaged in her handbag for a set of
keys. She singled out the only black one
on the ring and slipped it into the lock.
A dull 'clunk' came from behind the
door as the heavy lock disengaged.
She pushed the door back and it
hit the hallway wall with a thud.
Something about that thud made the
hairs on the back of Larry's neck
prickle. He watched as she clicked on

149
the torch and shone the beam down into
the gloom below.
"Okay, we're good. You can
meet my Father now."
"Your dad's down there?"
She held his gaze for a moment
then gave him a gentle shove from
behind, pushing him towards the door. If
there was one thing in the world that he
had no desire to do it was to meet her
dad but even more than that he never
wanted to walk down those wooden
steps into the gloom.
"You did bring me back here for
sex, right?"
She snorted in disgust and
shoved him again, this time a little
harder. Something told him not to argue
with her and so he started down the
steps into the dark below cold, dank air
wafting up at him. He realized that his
heart was pounding so hard that he
could feel its pulse in his temples.
Nervously he fiddled with his bow tie as
his eyes struggled against the almost
pitch dark in which he found himself.
150
 The basement was humid and
his footsteps sounded oddly muted in
the small space. Joanne's torch only
illuminated a small circle of his
surroundings at a time but the light was
generous enough. Against the left hand
wall were rolls of toilet paper, boxes of
light bulbs, stacks of canned goods,
even a partially installed porcelain toilet
bowl.
"This place looks like a fallout
shelter" he chuckled nervously.
"It used to be one. My Father
always was a paranoid man."
"So when do I get to meet
him?"
"Right now."
She led him through a small
concrete archway and into a smaller,
pitch black room and with a sharp click
she extinguished the torch. He whirled
about in confusion but could only see
Joanne, silhouetted by the tiny pool of
light spilling down from the hallway
above.

151
 "Okay, now before I turn the
torch back on, I only have one house
rule. You have to promise to be nice to
Daddy."
"I... I promise." He listened to
her fumble with the torch and then all of
a sudden he was blinded by the
torchlight. He rubbed his eyes and
turned back in the direction she pointed
the torch. What he saw made him cry
out in shock and heave into the corner.
The thing in the centre of the
room could barely be called human.
Shackled to the arms of a metal chair,
feeble, grey-skinned hands clenched and
flexed, shaking violently. The chair was
bolted to a thick metal plate on the floor.
Emaciated, starving ribs swelled with
the things ragged, hacking breaths. The
man's face was the worst. He was
missing his entire lower jaw, his tongue
hanging from the bloody maw like a
dog's, strings of drool hanging and
swinging as his head swayed drunkenly.
"Daddy liked women. He used
to call me his 'little woman'. He started
to call me that when I got breasts. I was
152
thirteen." Her voice was hard, cold. All
he could do was stare at the poor
creature in the chair now beginning to
wake up, a whimper gurgling up from
somewhere deep within its ruined throat
at the sight of Joanne.
"I even used to enjoy his
alcohol and sweat stink after the first
year. Maybe that was it, the alcohol. He
used to drink Jack Daniels and Coke
too" She pulled a syringe from her
purse. Succinocoline, the paralysis drug.
She sank it into his neck just below his
right ear and he cried out in pain. Daddy
watched, a scream rasping from his
throat, his skinned legs thumping
against the metal chair. He was getting
too confident. She would have to use the
salt again.
Larry collapsed to the basement
floor. She stepped over him and walked
over to Daddy. She stroked his
trembling cheek.
"Look Daddy, I brought you a
friend. I'll have to get another chair but I
think it's time I had someone new to
play with. You're getting old now,
153
pathetic. You always were. And to
think, you used to be so rich, so
successful" She picked up the hessian
sack of salt from the basement floor and
untied the cord. "And now you're just
meat to me."
Faint, weak moans came from
the suited heap on the floor behind her
as Daddy began to scream.

154
 VILLA BOA

TheystandatthedoorWhilstpeopleturnaw
ayTheytakethetimeTolistentoourmistake
sWetakeandtakewetakeourowntimeaway
PutdownyourcardsShowmeyourprettyfa
ceHouseofsnakesHouseofcrawlingintom
yearIhearthevoicesandthescreamingwel
lkillthebitchtomorrowsnakesHouseofsna
kesHouseofsnakesTheystandatthedoorJu
dgeusonourwordsWordsthatwespokeWo
rdsthatwereneverheardIntheHouseofsna
kesUntiltherazorsweresharpenedAndthel
imbsremovedWeneverknewwewereinthe
Houseofsnakes.

155
 BREAKERS

Blackness stretched before him, an

endless sea of void. Not even the stars
shone this far from home. Dust motes
and planetary refuse, rocks, moons and
planets revolved endlessly around one
centrifugal point. Billions of years from
now every rock and mote of dust would
eventually come so close to the huge
black hole at the centre of the universe
that they will all be sucked in and lost
forever.
The spacecrafts effervescent hum
filled Saprols ears as he gazed out of
the window. He was alone in the
observation deck, the rest of the crew
preferring to sit in the rec room eating
dried noodles and drinking beer.
They were just a month away from
a porting planet or, as they were known
in the mercenary circles, a dock rock.
A dock rock was a planet, which
accommodated spacecraft that were
almost running on empty. For a small
price they provided food, drink, sleeping
quarters and night life. The last dock
156
rock that they had ported at had been a
neon blur of booze, cheap women and
bar fights.
The ship hummed again. He could
feel the vibrations in his bones. Saprol
realized, looking out at the expanse of
space laid out before him, just how
much he missed home.
One hundred and twenty one years
ago the various governmental bodies of
earth had stumbled into a third world
war. After just two years of fighting
between the infantries of the countries
involved the leader of the Russian
Eastern Axis had gotten the bright idea
to press the big red button.
Women had been pulling together
provisions and fortifying homes,
children playing in the wreckage of their
hometowns, men on the battlefield
raising weapons in defiance. There had
been a dull crump, a flash of light that
burned the skin. Then the heat had come
melting glass, setting trees aflame and
leaping from house to house, burning
everything within reach.
Over the course of a month over
five thousand megatons of nuclear
157
power were detonated the world over on
a call and response basis. The
explosions sent a sixth of the earths
surface soil into the sky, blotting out the
sun. Dust particles were carried down
by freezing wind and settled over the
wreckage of earth, bringing disease,
radiation sickness and death.
The rain that began to fall a number
of weeks after the attack was as
radioactive as the fallout dust, burning
exposed skin after some time. For the
next two decades dysentery, famine and
pestilence ruled. The surviving
population of earth now below
medieval numbers was ravaged with
birth deficiency, eight out of ten
children born monsters.
For four decades after attack
nothing grew on earth. Food and clean
water had to be flown down to the now
arid planet. The remaining populace of
earth had now grown to live with their
lot. The majority of people there were
grotesque, the birth defect having
become the norm. The accumulated
powers of the new worlds largely
attempted to forget about the new
158
monstrous race, only interacting should
supplies or medical care be needed.
The main surviving powers
Russia, the USA, the UK and Germany
united under a new peace contract on a
planet not a huge distance or
dissimilarity from earth. This planet,
abundant in flora and fauna with
habitable land in plenty was labelled
simply Home. Industry began,
pollution filled the skies and the human
cycle began all over again.
It was this planet that Saprol cast
his mind to now. He missed his wife
Marie and his son Celeste. They were
two years cryostasis time away and
there were no plans amongst the
mercenary group to head back that way
anytime soon. They had just returned
from a salvage job, which had taken
them six months, and the plan was to
dock, replenish supplies and look for a
new assignment. That was a much more
profitable way to operate.
Even if the plan was to go Home he
doubted if he would see his wife and son
anyway. They had moved on, the last
transmission had told him as much. He
159
could remember as if it were yesterday,
the picture flickering in and out
spasmodically and finally settling,
revealing the two people he loved.
She wore a troubled expression,
which spoiled her unusual beauty. His
son stood expressionless, unwilling to
look at the camera. Maries hair fell in
one cascading wave, a curtain of
luscious, sleek black. Her voice had
floated from the speakers in the rec
room.
I miss you too much Saprol, I
need to let go
I love you daddy.
At that moment he knew it was the
end. He remembered playing with
Celeste of an afternoon, tearing through
the forests of Home with the boy. He
remembered prospecting with Marie, the
terror of an unwritten future making it
all the more worthwhile.
He needed to go Home. He needed
to rest.
A small cloud of dust motes drifted
past the window. The hum of the ship
made the floor vibrate beneath his feet.

160
 His train of thought was broken as
the intercom popped and crackled into
life.
Saprol, uh we need you here.
He jabbed a finger into the Comm.
on the wall beside him. What is it
Carol?
Her voice sounded very distant, as
if lost in thought I dont quite know sir,
just come and see this.
Alright, Im on my way he
replied, annoyed at the interruption to
his memories. He took one last look out
of the window. A small scattering of
stars shone for a moment.
The door to the rec room popped
and hissed as it slid open. He found the
rest of his crew crowded around the
command monitor.
The command monitor was situated
in the centre of the rec room, a
darkened, luxurious space with
comfortable sofas, a pool table and neon
light bars all around giving it the
atmosphere of one of the bars back
Home.
He addressed the crew whats
going on Carol?
161
 Im not quite sure sir, I just
listen to this
What is it? he asked, intrigue
building.
We received a transmission at
08:00 Saprol. Its strange, I tried
running a diagnostic and I cant find any
malfunctions in the audio encoding.
Why? Whats wrong with it?
Well sir, its strange, its
Tobias, the ships mechanic and
bruiser interjected Just play the damn
thing Carol!
He was a big man, forceful and
imposing. He smelled perpetually of
engine oil and sweat and had a violent
manner, but if you were his friend you
could rest assured that he had your back.
Carols hands floated over the
keys in front of her. The monitors
speakers rushed into life as she hit play.
Guttural, garbled speech flooded
Saprols ears. The sounds seemed to
ooze from the speakers, a mixture of
rhythmic clicks, low hums and faint
screeches. The sounds thrummed inside
his head making Saprols eyes vibrate in
their sockets. At the forty - second mark
162
the transmission died out leaving a ring
in his ears.
What the fuck was that? Tobias
asked as if hearing it for the first time.
Saprol leaned closer to the screen,
his forearm brushing against Carols
head. He looked closely at the jagged
peaks and troughs of the sound sample.
Its a language he said, his voice
sure and strong.
How can you know that? Carol
asked.
Look he pointed to the screen
this has a definite language pattern.
When you say whale for instance, the
wha part is louder than the le part.
This shows the same pattern. Thats
what these highs and lows are.
Carol sat still, puzzled.
Tobias interjected well its not a
language Ive ever heard before.
The six other crewmembers
grunted in acknowledgement.
Can you triangulate it? asked
Saprol, still leaning past Carol.
I think so she replied. Give me a
minute. Her fingers went to town on
the keys as she ascertained the source of
163
the signal. After a minutes work she sat
back, satisfied. Its coming from
somewhere west of here, about two
weeks flight. But, wait this cant be
right she trailed off, her expression
changing to one of deep concentration.
Theres nothing out that far, at least not
that we know of.
No-ones gone that far out in
ninety years, Saprol pointed out.
Tobias butted in. Well theres got
to be something out there, that signal
came from something.
Well that we can be sure of,
Carol replied.
But if there was anything surely
someone would have reported it? asked
Saprol.
You would have thought
replied Carol thoughtfully.
Two weeks away you say.
Indeed.
Well we have supplies for eight
weeks, three weeks there, three weeks
back Saprol suggested.
A voice came from the back of the
group. Usually a quiet man, Phil spoke
in raised tones. No way! Look, were
164
two weeks away from the dock rock and
I need to rest. I want some real food, not
this dried shit. I want a real beer for
gods sake! He adjusted his vintage cap
to hang even lower over his brow than
usual.
Look Phil, we can make it. Well
be at the dock rock in seven weeks at
the most. Minus time spent at the source
of that signal, of course.
Compared to the two weeks it will
take us to get there from here? Phil
parried.
Look, Im not on either side of
this fence but Saprol Carol
challenged we dont know how long
well be out there, we dont know what
well find, and we dont know anything
at the moment. She sat back, waiting
for a reply.
Look, Saprol insisted, standing
straighter. Weve got the supplies,
weve got the fuel, and how can we turn
this down? When we dock our ships
internal memory banks will be wiped
and logged and this find will go on the
market. Well lose the job of a lifetime

165
and well lose the co ordinates. This
wont be ours.
The crew sat silently for a moment,
weighing up the options.
This is a once in a lifetime
opportunity, Tobias pointed out.
Mike, Ben and Julia had been
conspicuously silent throughout the
deliberations so far and so attention
turned to them.
Mike piped up. I think we should
go. Think about it, if we can haul
anything in from this, well be
renowned. Well be the salvage crew
that people go to! Mike was a salvager,
the man who decided what they brought
Home and what they left behind and his
salvagers mind shone now. Well get
all the jobs.
The group was decided. Carol set
the coordinates. She turned to Saprol
and whispered in his ear I think were
doing the right thing.
He nodded in agreement and the
group dissipated, preparing for
cryostasis. As Saprol headed for the
cryo bay the transmission still rang in
his ears.
166
 The group sat around a table in the
cryo bay over coffee. It would be the
last coffee they would enjoy for two
weeks. Plumes of steam rose to the roof
from plastic mugs resting in nervous
hands.
Ben chirped up for the first time in
a few hours. What do you guys reckon
is out there? He took a sip of his coffee
and set it back down with a brisk chink
of plastic on metal.
Phillip looked more sullen than
ever, his cap pulled almost entirely over
his rough visage. Who cares whats out
there? If weve got to do this then lets
do it. Carol shot him a look of distaste.
She turned to Saprol, addressing him in
fond tones. You say that transmission
was a language you dont think
theres something out there we havent
seen yet?
Carol had never been much of a
thinker. She was a calculating,
reasonably cold person by nature,
always had been. She had gotten full
marks in Homes standardized testing,
set for a bright future. But when you
spend your entire life heading for the
167
light you end up craving the dark. She
had never been as happy as she was
now, traversing the stars with this seedy
bunch of downandouts.
She had been born into a
reasonably wealthy family but she was
never as happy as when she was rifling
through her pockets for the price of a
beer on the next dock rock. However
cold and calculating a mind she had, she
did pride herself on the fact that she had
a reasonably open one when it came to
discovery. Salvaging gave her the
opportunity to exercise this open
mindedness, and right now she was
considering the idea of life on other
planets. Who was to say that in this
deepest corner of the cosmos there
wasnt something left to discover?
The group began to laugh amongst
themselves and Saprol replied derisively
you do have to remember, in one
hundred and twenty eight years of
human space travel we have never
discovered another lifeform.

***

168
The cryostasis chamber was huge. It
needed to be to accommodate the ten
cryostasis pods inside it. The crew
should have numbered ten, but Saprol
was very selective of who he
accommodated. You had to be as the
captain of a salvage ship. Most people
were just in it for the money, but if you
were going anywhere in the business
you had to be in it for the life. The
chambers low blue lights reflected off
of the glass pods.
Designed to soothe the tenants,
they did their job. Before going into
stasis you would inject an opiate into
your system which would calm your
bodily functions enough to make sleep
unavoidable. Once the pod was closed
and sealed it would fill with a
containment fluid, which kept the body
warm. Vitamins and minerals were fed
to the body intravenously. As Saprol
clambered up into his cryopod he felt a
cloying sense of calm. Almost too calm.
He looked to his right at Carol. He
caught her eye and she returned his
smile.
169
 See you in two weeks and six
days! she called over.
Saprol smiled wider. Sleep
well! it suddenly hit him how attractive
she was. Not typically attractive in the
way that Julia was, tall, blonde and
leggy but there was something about
Carol which just demanded attention.
She had full, inviting lips and a vaguely
hourglass figure but even better her eyes
were so alive, as if there was a sea of
discovery just waiting to be explored.
He had been vaguely interested in her
for a while now but recently he had
noticed the signals being returned.
The roof of the pod descended
and his breath condensed on the glass.
As sleep set in he could almost see his
wife and son standing outside of the pod
staring in at him as if he were a goldfish
in a bowl, their faces expressionless.
The feeling of calm disappeared.

***

It was three weeks and six days since

Saprol had eaten or drank anything, and
170
the coffee he was clasping tasted better
than ever. The warm liquid cascaded
down his throat and filled him with
energy and life.
The cryo tubes were equipped with
all the standard mineral injection
equipment, but no artificial vitamins or
minerals could ever really sate the
human body. Even the artificial noodles
on the table before him tasted good and
they were the kind of grade A crap he
usually insisted on saving for last
rations.
The bags under his eyes were
purple and bruised, his body fighting
him with every movement. He needed a
refresher workout and a shower, to wash
the night off of himself. Bad dreams
slept in the cracks under his eyes.
Putting caffeine into the bloodstream
after space travel could have drastic
effects on metabolism and blood
circulation for up to a week after
revival, but for a seasoned captain the
effects were barely noticeable. He was
damned if he was going without his
morning coffee, even if morning and

171
nightfall looked no different out in
space.
Saprol cast his gaze toward the
massive window that dominated one
wall of the observation deck just as
something edged its way into view. The
gigantic ball of rock was almost as black
as the sky surrounding it.
It was small for a planet, at a rough
estimate about half the size of Home.
Dust clouds surrounded it, looking just
like fog. Stars burned brightly like tiny
orange fires against the dark sky. Carol
gasped at the majesty of the sight, her
mouth hanging open.
So Tobias broke the silence
that signal came from a planet?
Sure looks that way, Carol
replied, her voice distant.
Check air samples, would you
Carol? ordered Saprol. She raised
herself from the steel table and
approached a monitor on the wall. She
tapped a few keys and a metal tentacle a
thousand feet in length extended from
the base of the ship. It drifted lazily in
the zerogravity atmosphere, probing
for traces of oxygen from the planets
172
surface. After almost a minute it began
to retract, feeding the readout data to
Carols terminal.
Oxygen levels are a little less than
they are on Home but still breathable.
Gravity levels normal. They must have
some kind of Bio dome field down
there. Carol stared hard at the planet
surface readout, her brow furrowed.
That is only an atmospheric estimate
though, well find out for sure when we
touch ground.

Ben brought the ship in slowly and

carefully over a rocky outcropping
which jutted from the landscape. He
chose the spot as it would provide visual
cover for their ship and also protect it
from the surface weather. Through the
observation deck window they could see
the planets climate much better. Natural
ornaments and structures made of black
stone jutted out of the ground. Hills
surrounded them on all sides casting
huge shadows in all directions.
Impossibly large stalagmites pierced the
sky like spines on a porcupines back.
Precariously balanced totems of rock
173
were scattered in the hills, reminding
Saprol of a caveman comic he had seen
in a museum on Home.
Bens voice crackled through the
intercom. Ive never seen anything like
this, not even heard of a planet like this.
Theres no vegetation, no water
On the way in I spotted an ocean,
so this place must have a rain cycle.
Surprising that theres no flora though
Saprol replied. He roused himself from
the table to address the group.
As we were coming in I saw what
looked to be a number of buildings,
about a halfmile over that ridge to our
east. Its my bet that if that signal came
from anywhere it came from there.
Well I guess thats our first target
then, agreed Tobias, shuffling his way
along the bench to stand up.

***

Saprol hoisted his provision bag

over his shoulder and secured his
.38mm handgun into his belt. Tobias
joined him clutching a piece of paper.
174
Carol gave me this, updated readouts
of the oxygen samples. He handed it to
Saprol the air is a little heavy, but
breathable.
The soil beneath Saprols feet felt
loamy. He took a deep breath or the air
and it flooded his lungs, a cold,
cascading rush. The surface was cold
and windy, his hair billowing in the
strong breeze. Tobias stepped down
beside him. Half a mile to this place,
you say? he questioned, leaning closer
to shout over the howling air.
Yeah, at a guess Saprol shouted
over the billowing wind. Wed better
get a move on, temperatures six
degrees and dropping. Saprol ushered
the others towards him. The door to the
ship hissed closed as Ben leapt down
from the hatch carrying a satchel bag
and a small crate of supplies. They were
all laden with objects, provisions
enough for a week in case of
emergency. Some of them carried data
modules, Saprol and Carol, weapons.
They began in the direction of the
small outcropping of buildings, the wind
buffeting them that way and that. After a
175
short space of time the structures came
into view, grey brick blocks in the
middle of an uneven plane. Closest to
them was a huge block with no windows
and no visible door. A huge sign over
the door read simply A Block. Behind
that was a second, Saprol guessed
probably B Block. The third was out of
view behind the others.
Floodlights stood like sunflowers,
their beams turned off or flickering. A
chain link wire fence ran in a rectangle
around the complex, making it almost a
fortress.
As they drew close Saprol bent
down and retrieved a small piece of flint
from the soil, noticing the Danger
High Voltage sign adorning a wall of A
block. He tossed the thing lazily into the
fence, expecting sparks to fly. The chain
links bounced back and forth as the rock
collided but no sparks came, no
electrical burst.
Looks like the powers off, said
Ben, pointing out the obvious.
It is, replied Carol. The
emergency lights are on. She indicated

176
the small pools of light illuminating the
ground below the door to A Block.
Noticing the heavy padlock on the
steel mesh gate, Carol produced a pair
of bolt cutters and handed them to
Tobias. With a grunt of
acknowledgement he got to work and
began cutting the chain links one by
one. A few minutes later, he bent the
section of fence he had cut back,
creating a mansize hole. They filed
through the hole one after the other,
with Tobias holding the fence back. He
squeezed through last, letting the chain
links spring back into place.
All was silent as they approached
the complex. The wind had receded
now, but the air around them was
becoming unbearably cold.
With a nod of the head Saprol
ordered Mike up to the door of A Block.
To his surprise, Mike found that the
door stood almost a foot ajar - not
enough space for any of them to squeeze
through, yet still unnerving. Why would
they have left to door open?
He knelt beside the power box to
the left of the door and prized the steel
177
cover from its clips. He played with a
few wires and the door slid back with a
creak of metal on metal and a hiss of
hydraulics. As he felt a spot of rain hit
his cheek he ushered the others inside,
propping the door open with his hand to
make sure no one was shut out.
With a thud the door slid closed
behind Ben, the last to enter the
complex. Before them lay a long
corridor of almost a hundred feet.
Rooms sprouted off on either side, and a
sign above a small cubicle at the end
read Admin in decorative, slanting
text.
As they advanced toward the admin
desk they peered into the rooms along
the corridor. They were paralleled on
either side, with the first being a
classroom strikingly similar to the twin
room on the left side of the corridor. On
the board were diagrams of the human
physique, X-rays of the skeletal
structure.
Saprol led the group and he peered
in at one of the X-rays that caught his
eye. The image displayed a human chest
cavity. The ribs jutted at odd angles,
178
most whole but others snapped cleanly
into two and sometimes three sections.
Black, cloudy areas surrounded the
bones.
The second and third couples of
rooms that the group came to seemed to
be medical rooms and waiting rooms.
Neither held anything of importance.
Looks like this place was some
kind of hospital, Phillip muttered from
beneath his cap. The others replied with
hums and grunts of agreement.
They proceeded to the reception
desk at the end of the hall. Through the
glass they could see bookshelves, in-
trays and admin papers. At the far end
of the cubicle was an old, dusty radio
almost buried under piles of paper.
With a jolt of excitement, Saprol
indicated wordlessly for Carol to check
if they had radio contact. Tobias moved
forward wrench in hand and pulled
back, aiming a strike at the glass. Saprol
rested his hand on the mechanics
rippling bicep and shook his head. We
dont want to make too much noise.
Carol tried the handle and the door
clicked open, swaying on its hinges. She
179
took a step forward and skidded across
the room. She grabbed at one of the
bookshelves and a few of the tomes fell
as she steadied herself. She looked
down to see what she had slipped on and
found herself stifling a scream.
The floor was awash with blood,
deep and oily. There were two lines of
white where her feet had been, the floor
now exposed. There was no sign of a
body anywhere.

Static and white noise buzzed from the

radio as Carol turned the tuning knobs.
She adjusted her glasses and brushed her
bob of black hair out of her face, careful
not to smear blood on herself.
Nothing. Nothing at all, she
announced to the captivated group
behind her.
This is wonderful. Ben, did you
put in a route report before we landed?
asked Saprol.
Of course! replied Ben. Never
leave home without one!
Saprol flashed him a grin.
They continued past the admin
booth and took a right, Carols boots
180
squelching as she walked. They came to
a door marked Mess Hall.
Beside the door was a blueprint
map for the complex. The diagram was
a birds eye view of the complex
detailing blocks A, B and C. A lower
image gave a crosssection, showing
them that there were a few more floors
underground. All the blocks were
interconnected by stairwells and
bridging tunnels. A large room down
just one floor was labelled Jonas
laboratories.
Jonas labs? Saprol inquired,
parroting the map. I wonder whats
down there.
Well whatevers there its worth a
look, replied Carol thoughtfully.
They approached the flight of stairs that
would take them to the laboratories,
following closely the digital map
readout that Carol had taken.
Going down muttered Phillip
as they descended.
They emerged onto an almost
pitch-black corridor. Emergency
lighting cast two pools of light down the
hallway. Light from the stairwell
181
illuminated a good five feet of the
corridor but after that it was near
darkness.
Fifty feet along the corridor a small
lamp shone on a heavy metal door. They
made their way down the corridor,
mindful to check the siderooms for any
signs of life. They reached the door and
it automatically popped, hissed and slid
open.
Lights flickered on around the
group revealing Jonas laboratories.
White wash walls and stainless steel
sinks reflected light back at them. Shiny
metal implements were everywhere,
glistening from worktops polished to
perfection. The place looked as though
it had not been used in months.
Lined up against the far wall were
Plexiglas cylinders filled to the brim
with yellowing formaldehyde. UV
lamps lighted them from below. Each
one contained a different body part,
hands, legs, arms, even a full set of
digits floated in one.
As Saprol drew close he could hear
his hair sizzle, the lamps burning away
any germs he may have brought in with
182
him. Saprols clothes steamed a little
and he felt prickly sweat escape his
pores.
Why would they keep body
parts? asked Tobias, staring hard at a
severed hand.
You know as much as I do
Saprol trailed off, staring intently at a
lower jaw suspended in the embalming
fluid.
After a few minutes examination
Saprol urged them to leave the confines
of the laboratory. As he turned away
from the cylinders he heard a dull snap.
He stared hard at the severed hand
closest to him. He was sure he had seen
it move, particles of skin carried by
bubbles to the surface. He rested the
heel of his hand on the grip of his gun
and moved on, following the rest of the
crew out into the hallway.

Below Saprols feet the floor

seemed to shiver briefly, like an
earthquake so distant you could barely
feel it. Did you feel that? he asked the
group.

183
 Yeah I felt that replied Phillip
I
The conversation was cut off by an
ear-shattering scream. The group
whirled around to see a figure stood at
the other end of the hallway by the
stairwell. Light from the stairwell
silhouetted the figure, but even with so
little visibility Saprol could tell that
something was wrong. The figure took a
faltering step towards them. Saprol
raised his gun.
Who are you? he called into the
darkness, his voice full of authority.
A scream returned his words, a
feral explosion of noise.
Saprol rested his index finger on
the trigger, flicking the safety off with
his thumb. Are you a part of the staff
here? he asked, hoping to let this
person know he was not a threat. Still he
held his gun in place.
The figure took another faltering
step into the light and seven mouths fell
open in horror. Ribs protruded from
skin, legs twisted and rolled in a
movement so unnatural that Saprol felt
bile rise in his throat.
184
 It was a woman, horrifically
broken. Her legs crippled under her,
bones jutting out of the skin. Blood
oozed readily from the wounds. She was
completely hairless and her monkey
like breasts hung in tatters on her
emaciated body. The space between her
stick thin legs was destroyed; gashes
and abrasions replacing what had once
been her natural womanhood.
The broken thing before them let out
another pained scream, the look of panic
and terror in the womans eyes making
Saprols stomach hit the floor. He dry
heaved and raised the gun once more,
swallowing down bile as it burnt his
tongue.
The shot rang out deafeningly in the
cramped hallway. The bullet tore
through the womans left leg and she
fell, her face colliding with the floor
with a sickening thud. Teeth and blood
were left behind as she raised her head
and let out another terrified scream. Her
left arm rose slowly above her head,
cracking as it snapped back at the
elbow.

185
 Saprol let out a whimper, his
heart like tribal drums in his ears. He
squeezed the trigger again and the bullet
flew, but it was a poor shot. One half of
the womans lower jaw hung in a
bloody mess where the bullet had blown
it apart. She began to raise herself from
the floor, her legs crunching as they
straightened out.
Fucking plug her, you prick!
screamed Tobias.
Ive only got six shots left!
retorted Saprol.
Well use them then!
We dont know how many of
these things there are! It didnt seem at
all wrong to refer to this woman as a
thing. She was far from human.
He grabbed Carols hand and
hurled her hurriedly back into the Jonas
labs. The others followed suit and
slammed the door.
Tobias and Ben pushed desks in front of
the metal partition. A dull banging came
from outside, as if the monster was
knocking to come in.
The group sat wherever they
found themselves. No one spoke. They
186
merely stared at the door breathlessly.
They were too scared to speak.
After an hour the knocking
suddenly stopped. There came a sound
from outside like a heavy duvet being
dragged across the floor, signifying that
the thing outside had moved on.
Saprol sat with his arm around
Carol, his lips pressed to the top of her
head. In the other hand he clasped his
.38 Tightly.
Tobias and Ben had pushed more
desks in front of the door to fortify them
against the relentless banging. Julia and
Mike sat together. She wept into his
chest as he petted her, staring blankly
into space.
Phillip sat alone slowly dragging
on a cigarette. The steadily rising
plumes of smoke had turned the room
into a fag trap. He broke the silence, his
voice brooding. Well, I suppose
someone should ask: What was that?
That was a woman, replied
Carol.
But what the fuck was happening
to her? he demanded, his voice
becoming fraught.
187
 She was breaking.
The tears Carol had cried had made
bags under her eyes. Her hair was a
ragged mess. She breathed a heavy,
shuddering sigh and nestled into
Saprols chest.
He looked back over his shoulder at
Mike and Julia and realized that the two
couples mirrored one another. He
breathed in the smell of Carols hair and
hugged her tighter to him.
He liked her. He liked the little asides
they shared from time to time. He
enjoyed the look in her eye as they
spoke on the observation deck, the
twinkling lights of space casting a
kaleidoscope of colour on the walls
around them.
In his mind, her legs shattered
beneath her and she fell, screaming in
pain. In his mind he raised his gun and
pulled the trigger, draining the life from
her in one tiny motion. Her blood
covered his hands, spilling between his
fingers
He snapped to attention all of a
sudden, wanting to direct his mind away
from the macabre thoughts. They had to
188
come up with a plan, to try to find order
in the midst of chaos.
Right He rose to his feet,
addressing the group. We need a plan,
and first things first, we need to know
more about what were up against. We
need to know what was happening here
and above all what was happening to
that woman.
Carol looked around, her face
emotionless. We should check those
computers.
Saprol followed her gaze and
noticed what he had not before. A line
of small terminals was set out on the far
side of the room against the wall. They
had been hidden behind the desks that
Tobias and Ben had used to bar the
door.
He moved to one of the
computers and nudged the mouse. The
screen flickered into life, displaying the
Jonas labs logo. Below that were four
icons reading Patients, Log, Crypt
and Outgoing. He moved the cursor to
the log tab as the others crowded around
him. A list of dates came up on the

189
screen and he selected the first,
27/4/2160.
Thats only last year
muttered Carol in Saprols ear. He felt a
shiver of pleasure scuttle down his spine
as her breath touched his neck.
Words wrote themselves on the
screen as the documents loaded. Saprol
read out loud, his eyes darting left and
right as he followed the text.
LAB 1 LOG 1: As we all know,
after the third world war, a movement
was made by the refugees and the
powers that be to find a new planet able
to sustain human life. After we found
Home the governments still werent
happy. Even though we had had the gift
of a second chance dropped right into
our laps they sent teams out to find other
planets.
Saprol came to the end of the log
and sat silently. He moved the cursor to
the next entry, noticing the rest of the
groups expectant breathing. He
continued to read
L0G 2: We found this planet. My
team and I were with the exploration
crew of the Leviathan. We found an
190
ocean here, about sixty miles due west.
This planet is amazing, there are no
signs of life here whatsoever, no flora
even despite the water.
Saprol moved the cursor to entry
number three.
LOG 3: We were wrong. There is
organic life on this planet, in the bodies
of water due west. The closest
biological approximation we can make
at the moment is to the now-extinct
Aquas Acanae family, which are known
to have lived in oceans on earth. From
what we can see at the moment, the find
is cannibalistic in nature.
The first eight of these creatures
that we brought back to the lab halved
and then halved again within eight days.
With no outside intervention this points
to the creatures consuming one another.
More on this when we have more
knowledge.
LOG 4: We have found that these
creatures can live within the bodies of
other species. We recently had a number
of animal specimens sent to us by the
Noah Project on Home. The only one
that didnt take was the chimpanzee.
191
 The Acanae appear to be parasitic
in nature. We managed to get the
monkey to take by entering it into an
aquatic environment. Water seems to
make the hardier species more
susceptible to invasion by the Acanae.
The creature began to work its way into
the primates mouth and after some
initial panic and discomfort the ape
settled down. I intend to post more
frequently now that things are beginning
to accelerate.
LOG 5: From a strategically
chosen position within the body of their
host the Acanae extend thousands of
tendrils into the musculature. This is
evidenced by the dark, cloudy areas in
every X-ray we have taken of the
monkey since day one. With these
hooks in the body the creature will
attempt to alter the musculature of its
host to manipulate its bone structure.
As far as we can hypothesize, the
aim of this practice is to use its hosts
body as a weapon against natural
predators, a suit of armor, if you will.
This suggests however that there is
something here that we havent seen yet,
192
another aggressor species. Or perhaps
this is merely evidence of the survival
instinct in play, even in predators at the
top of the food chain.
Due to the accelerated metabolism
of the body the host being effectively
pregnant the host experiences hunger
pangs, lethargy and bad temper. Then
the parasite begins to break the hosts
bones, creating its own vision of the
perfect weapon in its current ecosystem.
Shown by primate subject B1, the bones
knit together as fast as they break,
creating a never ending, rapid cycle of
fracture, heal, fracture, and heal. This
cycle does not end until the parasite
itself dies. At the moment we have no
knowledge of their natural lifespan.
LOG 6: Almost two weeks ago
now, one of the Acanae got into
Professor Jonas, entering through his
oral cavity. Within two days he was
displaying legions and welts on his
larynx and minor fractures in his digits
and ribs, and within four days, violence
to his fellow lab partners. We had to
strap him down and sedate him to ease

193
the pain. More of his skeletal structure
has fractured.
LOG 7: The rate of skeletal repair
is astounding. I myself have witnessed
bones break and heal within minutes.
Prof. Jonas refuses to take food.
We have been nasogastrically applying
liquids to his body but any attempt to
give him any sort of vitamin or mineral
has been met with violent outrage and
vomiting on his part.
The sad truth is that the human
body is a perfect environment for the
Acanae to inhabit. With seventy percent
of the human body composed of water
they have more than enough to last
themselves, and obviously they arent
stupid or suicidal. They allowed his
body to accept water.
In the moments when he can think
clearly, he has told us repeatedly of an
itching behind his eyes, a squirming
feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Correspondence to Home with the
powers that be have ordered us to
continue our studies.
LOG 8: After further sedation and
study we decided to leave him be. Many
194
of our staff find it testing to be in the
same room. After a few hours of solitary
we reentered and found him bent in an
upside down arc, his feet touching the
bed above his head, his spine twisted in
a U shape. He was silent.
Questions have been raised with
insistence that he be put out of his
misery.I have spoken directly to the
Minister for Modern Science on the
subject. The government on Home
forbid it. This is important research.
LOG 9: After two weeks of this
torture he has become a gibbering
wreck. Bathing or feeding him has
become impossible.
Today I and two members of staff
witnessed his lower jaw split into two
down the middle, creating mandibles.
This rendered even his insane babbling
impossible. I have grown to hate the
Acanae for this. I suppose it is in their
nature, their natural instinct. So should I
hate nature instead?
I cant sleep at night. I can only
listen to his screams. He pleads with me
to end it when Im in my bunk at night.

195
 LOG 10: ORDER OF EVENTS
IN PROFESSOR JONAS
TRANSFORMATION:
Hair loss.
Buildup of mucus on the lungs and
larynx.
Respiratory difficulties.
Legions on the larynx and throat.
Minor fractures.
Major fractures and breaks.
Fainting.
Delusion.
Shock.
Emaciation.
Malnutrition.
Insanity.
Minor paralysis.
Blindness, deafness.
Death from a number of these
causes.
The final cause of death was a
combination of many of the above.
Suffice it to say that the main four were
paralysis, shock, blood loss and
malnutrition. Enclosed are X-rays
detailing the speed of bone fracture and
re-knit. I have also enclosed a three-

196
hour video showing the worst of Prof.
Jonas transformation process.
Word has reached us of
deliberations between the powers on
Home. A dispute has emerged once
again between the American and
Russian governments. America is
scared.
We have been tasked with finding
a way to introduce the Acanae into
Russian waterways. They reproduce by
mitosis. Just one of these creatures
could make not just the Russian
territories devoid of life, but cause the
extinction of the human peoples on
Home.
The Americans are insane for
thinking that the Acanae will stop after
the Russians. They are playing with a
weapon that they dont truly understand.
A river will flow where it wants to flow.
We are cutting off
communications with Home. The radio
masts are being burned as I write. No
more reports. No more information.
This is for the best. The lives of the few
for the lives of the many, as they say.
The Acanae are spreading throughout
197
the complex. The number of afflicted
are is rising.

Dr. James Redfield 15/11/2160

Obit. Professor Michael Jonas 2122
2160
Died 8/11/2160. Born in Oca county,
American territories, Home.
Professor of biology, anthropology and
medical sciences for Jonas laboratories,
22 years. Owner and proprietor or Jonas
laboratories, 18 years.
Causes of death: paralysis, malnutrition.
Shock, blood loss.
Dearly missed.

They sat in silence. They stared at

the computer screen, the silence of
shock shared between them.
Carol rested her hand on Saprols
and guided the mouse pointer to the
attached X-rays. He breathed in deep
her natural smell. At the moment it was
sweat mixed with something he couldnt
quite put his finger on.
The images flashed up on the
screen. Saprol recognized them as the
images they had seen in the classroom
198
when they had first entered this cursed
place.
He focused on two images, both
displaying the same arm. One picture
showed the arm broken cleanly into two
jagged shards, the other the arm
completely healed. The broken image
was times ad 13:55 and the healed one
at 13:57.
He closed down the images and
drifted the mouse pointer to the attached
video log.
There was a slight pause before the
video loaded. It was CCTV footage of a
gurney set in the centre of the room they
all stood in now. The time code sped by
rapidly.
A middle aged man writhed and
contorted, blood spilling all over the
white sheets. The image changed
rapidly. This time his legs bent the
wrong way at the knees so that his toes
touched his chest. The look of panic and
anguish on Prof. Jonass face told
Saprol everything he needed to know.
There was no sound accompanying
the video. He thanked god for that, if
there was one at all. He clicked the X in
199
the top right corner of the screen and the
image closed. The logo for Jonas
laboratories flashed up on screen.
Saprol reached for the button to
shut off the monitor. Carols hand
reached it first, their fingers intertwined.
She squeezed hard. It was amazing how
romance could bloom even in the worst
of situations.
Julia burst into conversation at the
back of the group, a look of confusion
and outrage on her face. Why would
they do that to him? Keep him alive like
that? I mean, why? And why send those
things into the water in Russia?
Governments dont kill people for no
reason!
The group stared at her, amazed.
Phillip snorted derisively, strolling back
to his corner and holding a flame to a
new cigarette.
Phillip sat alone watching the
group scour the room for weapons. He
smiled, fondling the scalpel in his
pocket.
The first thing hed done upon
arriving at the labs was to secure a
weapon. He winced as his finger cut
200
against the blade. Hot liquid lubricated
his fingertips. His smile widened. He
watched Saprol, the so called captain,
as he followed that bitch Carol to and
fro like a puppy, compiling scalpels,
bone saws and pliers and placing them
on one of the desks blocking the door.
Saprol reminded him of his father.
Even now, at twenty-nine, hed not
forgotten who his father had been - a
bully, drinker, liar and serial womanizer.
He could remember how, as a
young child, hed been confused about
his mothers nationality. Her body had
been more black and blue than white.
Then, at the age of ten, he had realized
what was really going on. Why his
mother used to hide him in the closet
most nights. Why all he had heard from
his place in the dark were screams and
thuds and the smashing of glass.
One night he had ventured out of
the closet and witnessed his father force
his mothers face down onto a lit gas
ring. In one minute he turned her into
the monster that he really was inside.
Phillip had never looked at her the same
again.
201
Then one night hed been woken by
sounds. He put his ear to the wall and
listened to the sounds of his father
raping his mother. He had felt an
erection, what the older boys called a
stiffy, rise in his pants.
He crept across the hallway, a
chair leg that hed broken off earlier in
hand. He opened the door silently and
stood in the shadows watching them
writhe beneath the sheets, their bodies
illuminated by the moonlight streaming
in the windows. He listened to his
mothers whimpers as his father
shuddered on top of her.
He struck quickly. Blood
spattered the sheets and spilled all over
his mother. She cried out in the
darkness. There he stood, strips of his
fathers flesh dangling from his weapon,
a thirteen-year-old murderer.
That fuck Saprol reminded him
of his father. He watched as the
captains hand rested at the base of
Carols spine. Phillips fingers played
across the blade of the scalpel once
more. He smiled as plumes of smoke
rose before his eyes.
202
First things first. We need to destroy
all records of these Acanae, then we
need to come up with a game plan,
Saprol announced, hoping to rally the
group. His glance shot to Tobias, an
idea formulating Tobias, you could
smash these up, right?
Yeah, sure.
Wait, wait, are we sure we should
do this? interjected Carol I mean, we
dont know what else we can use on
these things.
We know what we need to know. I
dont want to know any more about this,
just how we can get out alive. At the
moment I cant see why the people with
those things inside them are a threat. I
mean, that woman out in the hallway
could barely stand! Saprol retorted.
He was speaking logic, and at any
rate no one had the energy to argue.
Carol sighed and stepped back, resigned
to the situation.
Tobias moved forward, wrench in
hand, and began to bring it down hard
on the monitors. He smiled wide,
pleased to be putting his brute force to
203
work again. Sparks flew and bangs as
loud as gunshots rang out as the
monitors exploded beneath the force of
his blows.
Carol drew up her digital map readout
and Saprol joined her. The armoury
wasnt a huge distance from their
position. It was almost directly below
then, one floor down. Twohallways and
one stairwell stood between them and it.
We should head there. There
could be more guns there. Saprol
pointed to the icon on the map. Carol
hummed in agreement.
The banging on the door to Jonas
labs was almost lost beneath Tobiass
frenzied attacks on the monitors. No one
would have noticed were it not for the
groaning of the hinges. The door bent
inwards and the group burst into life.
Saprol realized that the desks
would not hold the horrors outside back.
He grabbed at the table closest and
threw it onto its side, creating a
makeshift barricade.
The rest of the group followed suit,
no questions asked. Even Phillip
grabbed a bonesaw from the floor where
204
they had spilled and crouched behind a
desk.
Tobias and Mike stood on either
side of the door, ready to surprise their
attackers. Carol, Ben and Julia joined
Phillip and Saprol behind the barricade.
Saprol and Carol drew their firearms
simultaneously and braced themselves
against metal.
The door burst violently inwards.
They could hear the screeches and
screams of the things outside. Tobias
and Mike drew their weapons back,
ready to strike.

With a deafening explosion the door

burst inwards. Bodies ploughed through
the torn metal. Bullets flew and the first
two attackers fell. Tobias and Mike
swung weapons and two more dropped
to the floor. They could only hope to kill
enough to block the gap and prevent
many more getting in.
The attackers that had been cut
down writhed on the blood soaked floor,
screaming in agony as their wounds
healed, their bones reknit. Emaciated
bodies crawled through the rip in the
205
metal and tore into the room. Arms
flailing, eyes wide with rage.
Julia screamed in terror and
retreated to the back of the room
swinging her bone saw left and right.
Saprol turned and pulled the trigger
of his .38. The bullet connected with the
base of the attackers back, sending
blood and fragments of bone
everywhere. The man hit the floor,
paralyzed.
Julia began to bring her blade down
on the mans naked form, screaming
with rage and fear. Saprol couldnt help
but smile at the sight of Julia finding her
fangs.
The muzzle of Carols gun flashed
three times and two attackers fell, the
third bullet missing by inches and
ricocheting off of the wall behind.
These attackers were different. They
werent falling apart like the woman
before. They were fast and vicious.
They streamed into the room, their
naked, skeletal forms perfect targets for
the groups weapons.
One of the crazies seized Mikes
head in his hands and with an inhuman
206
feat of strength swung him up into the
air. Mikes feet touched the ceiling
before his head was crushed against the
white tiles of the floor.
Blood spattered in a wide circle,
flecks of it hitting Saprols face. He
turned his gun on Mikes attacker,
screaming in rage. In his moment of
anger he let three bullets fly, felling the
man.
His gun clicked empty and he
twirled it in his hand, ready to use the
butt as a club.
One of the twisted figures flew past
him, and almost in slow motion he
watched as Julia was torn roughly in
two. She screamed for all of two
seconds but it felt like forever. Her lithe,
beautiful form split down the middle
and entrails hit the floor.
Blood was everywhere, over the
walls, the floor, the worktops, and the
cylinders at the back of the room. Her
blonde hair was turned red as both
halves of her head hit the floor with a
wet thud.
Saprol tore across the room and
took Julias killers head in his hands.
207
The smell of unwashed bodies and death
filled his nostrils. He wrenched the head
down towards the floor, breaking the
spine backwards.
The naked, monstrous bodies
stopped flowing through the door. The
din died down. Blood was everywhere,
the previously white room now a deep
crimson. Everyone was soaked with
gore as they finished the writhing,
screaming forms cluttering the floor.
When the final deed was done the
survivors stood around the room, the
sounds of each others breathing in their
ears.

They picked up the two halves of

Julias corpse and dragged them into the
shadows under a worktop.
They picked up every bloodstained
implement from the floor or pried them
from the bodies of the dead.
They pushed the cadavers to one
side of the room and squeezed their way
through the tear in the door, mindful to
watch out for ambush.
Finding the hallway empty, they
took a left, slipping and sliding across
208
the floor, blood lubricating their shoes.
Saprol led the group, Tobias covered the
rear. Phillip studied Saprols moves
carefully.
They hit the stairwell at a run,
taking the steps three at a time. They
basked in the glow of the emergency
lighting.
Julias death flashed through
Saprols mind, her blood coated his
hands.
When they reached the hallway
below they backtracked into the dark,
maze-like hallways. Screams met their
ears. Twisted shapes moved in the
black. Saprol raised his gun and pulled
the trigger, reminded that he had no
bullets when the click rang out. Tobias
and Carol moved forward, cutting down
the silhouettes blocking their path. They
stepped over bodies and continued into
the darkness. The door slammed shut
behind them. Row upon row of empty
gun racks stood before the group.
Firearms littered the floor, cast aside.
Carol flipped the light switch and they
flickered on with a low hum,
illuminating their situation.
209
 Fuck! Phillip screamed from
behind, smashing his fist against the
wall.
Saprol moved to the first of the
firearms, checking the clip for
ammunition. Finding it empty he
discarded the weapon and moved on.
This is useless! Useless! Were
fucked! Phillip shouted, raging at the
group. No one replied to his anger, the
rest restraining theirs.
Saprol discarded the last weapon
left, finding it empty. He stared up at
Carol hopelessly, tears welling up in his
eyes.
It was at that point that he noticed the
bodies. Three of them hung from the
rafters, ropes around their necks. They
swung gently, dripping crimson from
the rope burns in their skin.
Saprol cradled his head in his hands,
breathing in the smell of sweat and
blood on his clothes. He needed to
compose himself, to come up with a
plan, to think his way out of this hole.
He choked back tears and raised his
head from the space between his knees.

210
 A figure stood over him. He
recognized the red cap. Suddenly he was
being dragged up by the scruff of his
neck.
You motherfucker! Phillip
yelled, slamming him against the metal
wall. Youve finished us, all of us!
Every decision youve made has put us
further into this meat grinder!
Saprol composed himself and
shook Phillips hands off. He stood
straighter. Phillip didnt back down.
Stand down, Phil he warned,
staring into the younger mans eyes. The
piercing stare that met him made him
nervous.
Youve fucked us at every turn.
You havent listened to anyone but
yourself and that bitch over there!
Phillip indicated to Carol who sat a few
feet away. No one intervened in the
dispute.
Stand down, Saprol repeated,
fixing Phillips gaze.
You didnt listen when Mike or I said
we didnt want to come here. Now hes
dead! Hes fucking dead! This blood
he flashed a crimson hand belongs
211
right here. Hesmeared the blood into
Saprols palm, gripping it firmly in his
fingers.
Saprol snatched his hand back
roughly. Step down!
You limey fuck! Phillip bellowed
into Saprols face. Flecks of saliva
mixed with the blood smearing his
cheeks.
Saprols hand was moving without
permission, swinging in a wide arc. The
clenched fist on the end of his dead arm
collided with Phillips temple and
followed through, raking across his
cheek.
Phillip moved with it, taking the hit
hard. He fell heavily to the floor and
looked up at Saprol, fury burning from
his eyes. Youll regret that. You will
fucking regret that he trailed off as
he clambered to his feet. He met
Saprols gaze.
I hope you realize what youve
done to us, he spat before retreating,
leaving Saprol standing wordlessly.
He followed Phillip with his gaze,
his hand clenching and unclenching. He
felt bad for assaulting the young man.
212
Had he asked for it? A small part of him
said that he had. A larger part said
otherwise.
He sat down against the wall,
wishing in some small way that Carol
would come to him. She sat wordlessly,
staring at the floor.
An hour passed and when no
banging came, the group decided to
sleep. Saprol sat alone, staring at each
face.
Even Carols beauty had drained.
He no longer wanted her beside him. He
fondled the gun in his lap. If only he had
a bullet left he would have put the
muzzle to his head there and then.
The monsters outside were one
thing, but what confronted him now was
far more ugly. He wasnt sorry that he
had put Phil in his place. The bastard
needed to be taught some respect.
He pulled the trigger and it clicked
empty for a third time. He hated that
sound.
He imagined pulling the trigger
five more times, putting five more
bodies to rest. That would leave him

213
though, and if anything, he deserved a
bullet.

Heavy breathing met Phillips ears

as he watched the group sleep. Carol,
Ben and Tobias huddled together,
Saprol curled up in the far corner alone.
Phillip stared intently at the
captain. All he had to do was cut his
throat, one quick slice. Then he would
get revenge for being taken into this
mess. The room smelled of sweat and
blood. The bodies hanging from the roof
smelled even worse. A spot of blood hit
his knee as the bodies drifted lazily from
left to right.
There was no point staying here,
not with these miscreants. Saprol would
only lead them to their deaths. No, he
would take the ship and find his way
back to somewhere, anywhere but here.
Hunger and thirst were beginning
to set in. He remembered the coffee and
plastic noodles back on the ship. Even
that would taste great at the moment.
There was no point waking any of
them up at the moment. None of them
bothered to listen to him anyway, not
214
anymore. They must want to die if they
were going to follow Saprol as readily
as they had.
He would miss Tobias and Ben
and Mike. Good people, great friends.
He remembered the times on various
dock rocks, on Home. He would miss
them a lot. And of course he would miss
Julias great body.
He slipped into a ventilation duct
silently, wriggling his shoulders and
hips through the tiny aperture. Tiny
pockets of dust burst into life as he
scrambled through the claustrophobic
tunnel towards deeper and murkier
blackness.

Saprol was underwater. He

screamed for Marie and the ice-cold
liquid flowed between his clenched
teeth. It tasted like dead ends and false
hopes.
Dark, barely human shapes floated
past and just for a second he thought he
could see his son among them. He
reached out for the silhouette, his
movement slowed and his vision blurred
by the water.
215
 A voice called to him from far
away, a seductive whisper wilting into
an enraged scream. He remembered the
transmission of two weeks ago.
Something writhed in his throat,
eellike, vicious. As it sank deeper into
his chest he wept silently. The only
sound around him was the rippling
water. He was freezing to death in this
silent world of endless blue.
He looked down at his stomach.
The skin was contorting, the screaming
face of a human foetus pushing out. He
recognized the face as his own. He felt
no pain as the skin stretched this way
and that, the thing trying to tear a way
out. He closed his eyes tightly to block
out the awful, horrible sight.
He opened his eyes slowly, the
overpowering light stinging them. He
was kneeling in the middle of a huge
plain of yellowing, dying grass. Before
him sat a huge city, bustling with life. A
tiny speck of light shone in the sky
above, tearing towards the city.
Birds flew overhead and a herd of
animals charged by. The ground shook
beneath him as antelope, bears, dogs
216
and a thousand other creatures shot
past, screeching in terror.
There was a dull thud, and within
seconds fire had spread throughout the
city. Buildings buckled and leaned away
from the explosion. The sheer force of it
sent empty cars flying and shattered a
thousand windows.
The fire rushed at Saprol, an
unstoppable wall of death. A huge
mushroom cloud many miles high rose
above the highest skyscrapers, blotting
out the sun. Mountains fell, the ground
began to crack.
His skin peeled away, blood
flowing down the contours of his
burning body. His bones snapped,
shattered beneath the weight of the
shockwave. The dying screams of the
city deafened him.

Saprol woke suddenly, aware of a

creeping danger. His stomach turned
and his eyes darted around the room.
The rest of the group were sleeping
softly, their heavy breathing the only
sound. He looked around sharply;

217
checking that everyone was whole and
accounted for. Someone was missing.
Hes gone! Saprol yelped,
waking the others that bastard left us!
Carol looked up with a groan as
Saprol slammed his fist into the metal
wall, cursing Phillip.
Whos gone? Carol asked
groggily.
Who do you think? Phillip!
Why would he just leave us? Hes
got less chance on his own!
Because hes an idiot and an
asshole! Saprol retorted, raging.
Tobias heaved himself up from the
floor and began to check the corners and
under desks. Hes definitely not here,
he confirmed. Secretly Saprol was glad
Phillip was gone. He knew the rest of
the group had lost a lot of trust in him
since his altercation with the other man.
Now he hoped that he could win some
back if he made him look bad enough.
Well hes left us for dead. That just
proves what I was saying, what hes
really like. We dont need him. He
never cared about any of us His
audience sat in silence.
218
 What if he was taken by one of
those things? Carol interjected.
Wheres the blood? Why didnt
they take us too? We would have heard
it for a start!
Carol opened her mouth to speak
and closed it again, realizing that she
had nothing to say in Phillips defence.
Ben spoke up So what are we
going to do now? If hes left then so
should we.
Hes got a point, argued Tobias
gruffly.
They noticed the intercom speakers
in the corners of the armoury for the
first time as they crackled and popped
into life. A strange, soft voice floated
into the room.
Ive been watching you. There are
many eyes in this place. I would like to
speak to the four of you immediately.
As they listened to the voice they could
almost imagine the speaker smiling.
Come to the dance hall. Just follow the
signs.
The speakers whirred down and
popped smartly before the channel was
cut. They stood silently for a moment,
219
bemused. Carol brought out the now
familiar map readout. She traced a route
with her fingertip, her brows furrowed.
Its two floors down. The floor
below looks empty. And heres the first
bit of good news theres a lift.
A lift? Saprol repeated.
Yep, and theres more. Its at the
most a ten-minute journey. A short walk
down this hallway she indicated with
her finger and its an easy breeze
from there.

The lift doors slid open with a whir of

hydraulics and the foursome piled in,
jostling for room. The doors slid closed
and Saprol hit the button for the fifth
floor.
The lift jumped, groaned and began
to descend. Metal screeched against
metal as they slowly dropped. The third
floor slid by.
A bang resounded in the tiny space.
The lift dropped by a few feet leaving
the four survivors a foot above the floor.
They crashed down as the lift jolted to a
halt. It hovered, gingerly bobbing up
and down.
220
 The foursome stayed still and
silent, tense, expectant. There was a
violent screech and the pattering of feet
on the roof, then a deafening snap. The
lift plummeted down, once again
jettisoning them into the air.
Saprol hit the roof with crushing
force. Carol screamed and dropped to
the floor, curling herself into the foetal
position. The lift picked up speed and
plummeted deeper into the planet.
Everything slowed down,
adrenaline taking over. Saprol was
dizzy. He felt bile rise again as his
stomach writhed. He remembered his
dream.
They were sent flying as the lift
slammed into the granite of the lowest
floor. The metal walls buckled and the
doors were crushed under the force of
the collapsing roof. Four bodies
ricocheted off of metal anddust
exploded everywhere. Sparks flew in all
directions and it was Saprols turn to
scream in terror.
All of a sudden everything was
still. The dust began to settle and the
sound of coughing rang in the darkness.
221
The lifts emergency lighting flickered
and then died.
Saprol heaved and vomited all over
the floor. He choked back another wave
and took a deep, rancid breath. Is
everyone alright?
Groans of pain and discomfort
responded to his words. Carol coughed
and one of her teeth fell out. Fine
she spluttered as blood spilled over her
lower lip and down her chin. She cast
the tooth aside into the wreckage and
dirt.
Tobias, two deep gashes visible
through tears in the back of his red vest,
began to push the doors apart. The
impressive muscles on his back shook
with the tension.
The doors creaked and groaned as
they slid back a foot. There was just
enough space for them to squeeze
through.
Carol spat blood and took the lead,
slipping through the opening. Saprol
followed closely behind. Tobias grunted
with exertion as he squeezed his huge
chest through.

222
 They came out onto another dark
hallway, this one identical to the two
before. They took a left and advanced
into the black.
After a short distance they came to
a grand door, ornate with golden
patterns and swirling vines fashioned
from platinum. Saprol raised both hands
and pushed hard.
Light flooded into the hallway, blinding
the four survivors. When their eyes
adjusted, they were met with an
awesome sight.
A huge hall lay before them, a
massive auditorium. A red carpet snaked
between row upon row of red velvet
seats cascading down towards a gigantic
stage. Every seat was vacant.
High above, empty spectator boxes
looked down. Back in the days when the
place had been used for shows, those
seated in the boxes must have felt like
gods peering down on tiny ants.
Classical piano music drifted to
them from the stage where, far below,
sat a figure on a makeshift throne,
kinglike.

223
 Seven of the infected stood around
him. These were different, more
developed. The shortest of them stood at
around seven feet, with long, stick thin
arms almost reaching her knees.
Another man, fully clothed in a
utility suit, sobbed as he played a huge
grand piano.
Come on down! shouted the
figure on the throne. His voice echoed
around the auditorium.
They began to approach cautiously,
Saprol, Tobias and Ben carrying bone
saws. Carol drew her gun from the back
of her pants but kept it concealed behind
her. She didnt want to provoke any
kind of confrontation that could be
avoided.
As they drew close the seven
infected began to advance, their lithe,
horrific bodies bristling with rage. Carol
threw caution to the wind and raised her
firearm. She took aim.
Stop! screamed the figure on the
throne. The infected stopped in their
tracks, snarling.
The foursome approached slowly,
not trusting for a moment that the
224
horrific figures would stay where they
were. Carol kept her gun trained on the
trembling figures as they passed
between them.
The creature on the makeshift
throne was hideous. It was a man,
hairless and naked like the rest. His
shrivelled penis hung limply between
his stick thin legs. His twisted arms
hung limply by his sides. In one hand
dangled a syringe, dripping a clear
liquid onto the stage. He smiled
pleasantly at them, his head lolling
drunkenly.
Allegro! he commanded sharply
and the piano player sobbed quietly,
speeding up his playing. His fingers
darted across the keys leaving droplets
of blood behind, playing a melancholy,
lilting melody. Saprol had never known
the expression was true, but this man
had worked his fingers down to the
bone. He was obviously terrified.
The horrible thing in the chair
turned his sardonic smile back to the
group. I must say, Im impressed.
Youve been here just a day and a half

225
and already youve killed far more of us
than my team and I did in a month.
Saprol glanced at Carol, worried.
Us? he asked, his grip tightening on
his blade.
Indeed the man replied,
we are all the same. He shifted his
position in the chair slightly and his leg
broke cleanly in two at the shin. He
grimaced and began to raise the syringe.
Ooh I felt that a little, he said,
bringing the needle to his eye. He sank
it deeply into the flesh to the side of his
right iris and pushed the plunger slowly,
gasping as blood flowed down his cheek
and dripped from his chin. Carol winced
at the sight. It made her sick to her
stomach.
The man in the chair cast the empty
syringe aside and held out a feeble,
trembling hand. Id shake your hand
but Im afraid youd break mine. His
chuckle at his own joke turned into a
hacking cough and a gobbet of phlegm
hit the stage by Saprols feet with a
smack.
I am Doctor James Redfield,
former assistant to Professor Michael
226
Jonas. I am part of the reason for this
little problem, he wheezed, the sheer
exertion of speech tiring him.
We read your diary, replied
Saprol, mindful to watch his tone. It was
obvious that this man had some power
over the infected and he didnt want to
provoke him into using it.
Interesting reading? Redfield
asked, a proud smile on his twisted face.
Saprol fixed him with a disgusted stare.
I suppose you would like to know
whats going on here. Oh God, Ive had
enough of this! He pointed to the man
at the piano and, in a second, the
infected were upon him.
Blood and entrails flew
everywhere. Horrible, clashing chords
on the piano seemed to accent every
vicious strike. When they were finished
with him all that was left was a small
pile of intestines, which slid from the
stool to the floor with a wet thud.
Redfield looked on with disgust
and perhaps just a hint of sorrow in his
face. Saprol tried his very best not to
vomit yet again and bit back his desire
to retch.
227
 So Redfield turned to address
them you already know that this
began with the creatures, the Acanae.
They break you up they make you
into what they want you to be. Theyre
like a disease, a self destroying entity.
Once a disease spreads out enough
people become immune to it and it dies.
The Acanae break you up until the host
dies and then the parasite starves to
death itself.
But youre different, Saprol
stated, taking the lead.
I take morphine to hold off the
pain, but my supplies are dwindling.
Ive managed to hold off the worst of
it.
But why havent you become like
them? Insane and violent?
Well for a start I cant get out of
this chair, he slurred his words, drunk
on the anaesthetic in his bloodstream,
drool hanging from his chin in thin
threads but the real truth is that it likes
me, this thing inside me. Im not
fighting it, so its rewarding me for good
behavior. Ive learned to embrace the

228
transformation. Its making me harder,
better, faster, stronger.
One of the infected brought him the
pile of entrails from the floor by the
piano. He took them readily in his
trembling hands. As he sank his teeth
into the gore the sound of his ragged
breathing mixed with the smacking of
his lips.
He slowly looked up at them, as if
remembering they were there. And it
lets me enjoy a high protein diet, he
laughed, flecks of meat spilling from
between his blood soaked lips.
As one, the group turned and ran
back up the red carpet towards the door.
A terrible scream rang out behind them,
and the thunder of footsteps told them
that seven maniacs were tearing after
them.
They reached the door and burst
through, spilling into the black
hallways.
Redfields laughter echoed after
them.

229
 They crashed through a door directly
opposite the dance hall with the infected
on their heels.
Tobias forced the door closed
behind them as bodies collided with the
other side. The hinges began to bend,
the screeches of the things on the other
side growing louder as holes were torn
in the thin metal door.
Saprol threw himself into a vent in
the corner and began to climb vertically.
Above him stretched darkness and
indecision, below him death. Carol, Ben
and Tobias followed, their panicked
breathing echoing up the claustrophobic
tunnel.
Saprol heaved his weight up on his
hands, his feet scrabbling against the
smooth steel walls. Above him was an
intersection, a choice of left or right.
At the back of the group one of the
infected clawed at Tobias heels. He
slammed his foot into the horrors face
and it fell away below him.
Suddenly a flash of colour emerged
from the left hand turning above Saprol.
A red cap, a green flak jacket. A hand

230
reached down and took Saprols. He
was roughly pulled up.
Phillip cowered in the darkness,
scalpel in hand. His face was smeared
with blood and a huge chunk had been
torn from his shoulder.
Thank me later, he said, deftly
reaching past Saprol to pull Carol to
safety. A screeching, thrashing terror
tore at Phillips back, spraying blood
everywhere. Phillip screamed and
slashed over his shoulder with the
scalpel but to no effect. His head was
forced down and his arms restrained.
His elbow popped out of its socket and
he screamed in pain, tears flowing from
his eyes.
Saprol crawled, panicking, into the
right turning. Light lay before him.
Phillips screams pierced his ears as he
pushed the metal grating off. It
plummeted ten feet into the room below.
He hurled himself through the opening
and fell headfirst.
Carol, Ben and Tobias crawled
through Phillips remains. He had
managed to kill the awful, stick thin
maniac in his last moments. They too
231
fell through the opening into the room.
They landed, groaning, in a pile ten feet
below.
Saprol was already on his feet,
looking quickly between the two doors
available to them. One of them was a
heavy iron plate with rusting hinges.
The other was a door to a service tunnel
with a small window at head height.
The other three clambered up from
the floor and joined him. A gunshot rang
out in the tiny room. Ben stumbled
against the wall with the force of the
shot before tumbling to the floor, a
huge, bloody hole in his chest.
Saprol whirled around, shocked at
the sudden violence. A second shot rang
out and he yelped as a bullet collided
with the muscle of his thigh. His legs
were swept from underneath him and he
fell to one knee, blood spreading from
the wound.
Carol stood by the door to the
service tunnel, smoking gun in hand.
Im sorry but this was a part of the
deal, she said, her face expressionless.

232
 What fucking deal? growled
Tobias as he brandished his bone saw,
his teeth bared.
You know already, she smiled.
You read it on that doctors monitor.
Saprol stared at her, beginning to
understand.
I was sent to join your group by the
American government. That was two
years ago. You remember that signal?
Sent by the Americans!
Her gun hovered, trained on Tobias
I was tasked with bringing you here.
You were to get infected and I was to
bring you back so that we could get
Acanae specimens back into our
territories. Sort of like smuggling drugs
through customs.
From there, our government
would have the most horrific, deadly
and efficient weapon. Jonas and his
team she trailed off as Tobias began
to shake with rage were an
experiment.
An experiment? What do you
mean a fucking experiment? Saprol
spat through clenched teeth. The pain

233
was becoming worse. His stomach
turned and squirmed.
We needed to be sure that the plan
would work, that these creatures were as
deadly as we thought. Once the
government has a weapon like this, the
Russians would be putty in our hands!
Dont you see? American supremacy the
world over! Complete rule of Home by
the only true power! she shouted the
last statement triumphantly.
And what about us? whimpered
Saprol.
Expendable. In the words of Dr. James
Redfield, the lives of the few for the
lives of the many. Or rather, deaths.
Tobias wasnt stupid enough to advance
on the woman who had just killed one of
his best friends and wounded another.
He stared at her with silent contempt as
she backed towards the service door.
Ive got everything I need. Ill
be off now if you dont mind, she said
smiling sweetly.
Saprol gritted his teeth against
the searing pain in his thigh and
clambered up from the floor.

234
 Carol fumbled behind her for
the door latch, keeping the gun trained
on the two men. If either were to move
they would be cut down by her bullet.
She whipped the door open and in a
second she was through it.
Saprol took his chance whilst
the gun was lowered and hurled himself
across the room after her. The door
closed a second before he got there. He
heaved his weight up on the handle as
the door locked from the other side. He
looked through the glass window
meeting Carols smirk with a grimace of
pain and contempt.
Im sorry about this babe, she
said, smiling patronizingly. And to
think you actually liked me! she
chuckled briefly and then she was gone,
disappearing into the darkness.
Saprol screamed his hate after
her.

They were trying to get in.

Saprol wondered if this would ever
end. The metal door was already
beginning to rip open. There must have
been at least a dozen outside, if not
235
more. Plaster and dust were falling from
the roof under the ferocity of the
rhythmic slams.
We should let them know what it
feels like! snarled Tobias. He linked
arms with Saprol, ready to barge the
door open. With a now all too familiar
screech the door strained on its hinges.
Saprol and Tobias charged, their
weight slamming against metal. The
door swung back, crushing one of the
horrors against a wall. The broken body
fell to the floor leaving flecks of skin on
the rough brick behind.
Saprol felt his shoulder buckle and
wonder if it was broken. They swung
their weapons desperately, cutting naked
bodies left and right. The screams of
rage and pain were deafening. Saprol
saw everything in a haze, blood loss
taking its toll.
Tobias screamed in pain as rotting
teeth sank into his right bicep. He
grabbed at his attackers head and
crushed it against the wall.
Awful, twisted figures darted about
in the darkness, arms flailing. Tobias
roared and hurled himself into the mass
236
of naked bodies. There were far more
than a dozen.His blade flashed under the
emergency lighting and blood flew.
Moments later, strips of gore and
severed limbs followed, high above the
seething crowd.
Tobias had been dismembered. His
severed head hit the floor with a crunch
and stopped, the dead eyes facing the
throng, as if watching his own
evisceration.
Saprol fought back tears and raised
his weapon as the screaming terrible
mass turned on him.

Carol tore along the black service

tunnel. Her chest ached from breathing
in the freezing cold, dank air. She had
everything she needed in her data
module. She had the plan of the
building, all of the log contents and the
exact coordinates of the planets ocean.
Everything her government would need
to harness the terrible power of this
amazing species.
She could see a light at the end of
the tunnel - the door to the maintenance
lift. Here was her way back to the
237
surface and back to the ship. She forced
herself to pick up pace. She wasnt
about to wait for those things to find out
that she was down here.
Something stirred in the darkness at
the edge of the tunnel. A horrible,
obscene thing crawled from the
shadows. Blood matted blonde hair
hung below an expressionless, but
beautiful face. Entrails and a curtain of
writhing, wormlike tentacles dragged
across the floor like angel hair. The two
halves of Julias body had become
something far more terrible than just a
corpse.
Carol whipped the gun from the
back of her trousers. The chamber
clicked empty as she pulled the trigger.
She had used her last bullet disabling
Saprol. Tentacles whipped out and
seized her. She was powerless to resist
the vice-like grip. She was dragged
across the floor and her glasses
shattered. What was once Julias
beautiful torso tore open like a giant
Venus flytrap and she was engulfed by
cold, dead flesh. Broken, razor sharp
ribs tore into her. She was ripped open
238
and her own entrails mixed with Julias
in a shivering, writhing mess of crimson
pain.
She screamed, and her lower jaw
was torn clean off. Skin was ripped from
her face. She choked and gargled on her
own blood. Her arms were torn from
their sockets and crushed in the maw.
As she began to fade, black
creeping into her vision, unimaginable
pains searing every part that was left of
her; something small and wet wriggled
itself between her legs. She tried to
scream, realizing what was happening to
her. Blood filled her throat as she closed
her eyes, wishing herself a faster death.

Saprol weighed his options as the

obscene creatures advanced on him.
Something awful led the crowd. It was a
man, walking on his hands. His legs
were bent up and over his head. His feet
had been torn free and the bones broken,
creating sharp spikes. He looked like
some kind of huge scorpion. A foot
long tongue lolled from his mouth like a
snake.

239
 Saprol could either stand and fight
and die or there was a door at the end
of the hallway behind him, another door
to put between him and the horror. He
didnt know where it led or what he
would find, but anything was better than
dying in the hands of these
abominations.
He could barely stand, let alone
run. His leg burned. He turned and
limped as fast as he could in the
opposite direction.
They tore after him, a seething
mass of flesh and bone. The door was
only twenty feet away. He could smell
the sweat of the first infected, feel their
breath on his neck. He thought of Carol.
He slammed into the door and it
swung back slowly. He stumbled
through, pushing it closed even as his
feet slid away from him and he crashed
to the floor.
The door was a foot thick slab of
pure lead, the infected didnt stand a
chance of getting through it. It shut just
in time. The crowd outside crashed
against it with terrifying force. The
hinges held fast.
240
 He looked up from his place on the
floor. The room was tiny, six feet square
at the most. He was lying in a pool of
blood. A womans body sat upright
against the wall. The body was rotting
and the room stank of it.
He held his stomach and crawled
against the wall, next to the corpse.
Scratches in the wall showed how many
days she had been there.

Dr James Redfield lifted the syringe and

plunged it into his eye. The wormlike
parasites crawled all around him, a sea
of infection and death.
As the rush of detachment washed
over his body he began to cackle with
laughter

Saprols stomach writhed violently.

Something squirmed behind his eyes as

241
if it were trying to look out through
them.
Horror dawned on him. He
remembered Redfields log, what he had
said about Jonas: In the moments when
he could think clearly he told us of an
itching behind his eyes, a squirming
feeling in the pit of his stomach.
How long before it began? Who
knew? With no water and no way of
escape, he would be dead within a week.
Starving would be better than becoming
one of them.
As blackness set in, his wife and
child stood, ghostlike in the corner. He
knew that they were only a construct of
his own mind but still he felt the terror,
as fresh as morning air as it took over
his whole body. Their faces were
expressionless, statues to his own
hubris. He felt a straining in his bones,
an unbearable tension. Then he
screamed as his arms and legs broke
backwards, bones splitting the skin and
jutting forth in gouts of blood. He
prayed for it to end quickly.
God didnt answer.

242
 JOEY

He tore her penis off. A fluid motion,

though his sinewy muscles bunched as
they strained against the leather straps
which hugged his stepmothers cellulite
buttocks. He was not going to be hurt
again.

Head-blood spat from the split

in his stepfathers skull. The claw
hammer that he used to perpetually
repair the garden shed bounced in
rhythm with the pricks death
convulsions. He spazmed like some
tortured, dying insect. His eyes bulged
obscenely from his face. Joey was not
going to be hurt again.

His sphincter ached as he

shifted position on the soft, downy
sheets. He withdrew the pair of kitchen
scissors from beneath his pillow, where
hed smuggled them away for his own
243
protection. The very pillow that hed
cried into over and over as she raped
him whilst his stepfather watched,
stroking away at his purple, engorged
penis. Night after night hed endured
their sick lusts, the sex sessions, the
beatings. But Joey wasnt going to be
hurt any more.

As he hacked away at her

vaginal folds, her double chin wobbling
with her screams, thick rivulets of blood
and viscera picked trails down her inner
thighs and the crack of her ass to seep
into the green carpet below. He watched
her eyes. The look of agony, of terror, of
hopelessness. If they hadnt always
fucked him doggy-style, theyd have
seen the same look in his eyes once.

But not now. Joey wasnt going

to be hurt anymore.

He fucked her with the scissors,

hard, just how theyd fucked him. He

244
thought of his reward for passing his
SATs, his stepfathers swollen dick in
his mouth, his stepmother pumping
away at his raw ass with that awful
black dildo.

And then he began to snip.

Oh no, Joey wasnt going to be

hurt anymore.

245
 Afterword
Ive included this afterword as a
thank you for reading that. Trust me; its
not easy to write about someones child
being aborted with a curling iron.
I want anyone who reads any
horror story to understand that the job of
a horror writer is to tell stories about
people who find themselves in awful
situations. Even more importantly a
horror writer needs to talk about their
characters reaction to the horror and the
effect that it has on their life. They may
learn a life lesson or they may be
eviscerated but people deal with things
in different ways or sometimes the
situation takes them in its arms.
Now that youve read that Id
like you to cast a few thoughts to a few
people. Firstly Id like you to think
about the baby. Two months, a potential
life, a potential prime minister, doctor,
careers advisor in the future. Bad people
do bad things, thats why theyre bad
people. The kidnappers misdoings
made enough of his character. You want
246
a motivation for his crimes? Think
deeply about every person you meet and
youll see it.
And from this point Id like you
to think about Gertrude Baniszewski,
Josef Fritzl, Cameron Hooker is the
exception but anyone else that you can
think of thats treated human life like a
commodity. The horror lies in these
people and their victims. You know
what makes these people much more
terrifying or pitiable than what youve
just read?
Their victims didnt get out
alive.

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