by Lin Larson
Sam gagged. He was stunned by their brutality.
“Where is Sean Stone? You will answer me now,” Thin Man growled.
The gun had a numbing effect on Sam’s mouth. He felt like he would throw up in their faces. He was hoping anyway.
Suddenly, the gun was removed. Tattoo snorted. “You like the feel of this power of death, eh, Stone? Would you like to feel your guts splattered all over your fancy car? No, I think you don’t; so where is your brother now?”
Thin Man jerked his gun back up to Sam’s head and waited.
Sam let out the breath he had been holding. “He’s dead. Isn’t that what you wanted?” he replied fiercely. “You and your fellow criminals killed him, you and Acceleration.” Sam immediately kicked out the man’s legs and lunged away, but the others were too close and alert. And Sam felt weak and dizzy. They grabbed him again and began pulling off his jacket. “What are you doing?” Sam gasped as they pulled up his sleeve.
Tattooed gave a sadistic half smile, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a syringe. He shot a bubble from it up into the air and growled. “So, you know about Acceleration. That is too bad. He jammed the needle into Sam’s arm.
Sam grimaced and began to feel disoriented. “You thugs, take your hands off…” but his lips felt like they weren’t there, and further words wouldn’t come out. His mind was present, but he couldn’t seem to understand.
The men were laughing at him. Why? What had he done? What was he doing now? Why were they talking so slowly? He was confused and tired. He couldn’t even remember who he was.
#
Where was he now? Seeing shadows… carry…what? Sam tried to understand. Who? Tired. Eyes heavy. In back seat. Mind dark. “Am I dead?”
CHAPTER 10
Sam, looked around. He felt lost, confused, and afraid. He was very cold and everywhere he turned were the faces of dying screaming men. His eyes began to focus. Those are his old buddies- Carl and big Emmanuel. They are here too, or is he in a nightmare with them. “And Sean, you’re here too. I’m so happy to see you, but I thought… you were dead. You’re alive? Am I alive? Or... are we all dead?”
“Get out, Sam! Get out! Don’t stay here. Run.”
“I hear you, Sean, but I can’t run. I can’t move. I want to stay with you? I’m going to stay.” Sam felt himself suddenly flaying his arms and legs about uncontrollably. “I’m convulsing. Oh! Make it stop…” And then, the shaking was over. He stared out, unable to move.
Suddenly, he was seeing… something happening. Sam watched in confusion. Was it real? It couldn’t be. Sean was clinging to a rope, suspended from a helicopter. Sam looked around. He could move again, and he was operating the copter and desperately trying to hold the rope. “Sean, hold on. Don’t let go!” But Sean was losing his grip.
“Sam!” he was shouting into the wind. “I can’t hold on. I’m not strong enough. Let me die.” His voice seemed to echo and whirl as Sean began falling into the thick blackness below. “NO!” Sam shouted but he couldn’t hear his voice or stop the pictures that he was seeing.
Suddenly darkness was rolling over him. He was floating in that blackness. There was no longer a helicopter. All had disappeared. Sam couldn’t seem to see anything. Before him was inky nothingness. He kept jerking to find an anchor of some sort, but there was none. Then the faces shot forward, alternating rapidly.
“I know you all,” Sam cried out. “Mom! Dad! My army buddies. You can’t all be here. Are you, are you all here?” You’re talking to me, but I don’t hear you. What are you saying? “Speak louder. TELL ME!” I know I was shouting, but I can’t hear me either. And I’m trying to move, but I can’t. You need to know that I’m here. I don’t know what to do. Tell me… Your faces are zooming at me, forward and backward quickly, and they are blending into each other. Why don’t you hear or see me? You’re getting smaller. “Don’t” go! Don’t leave me here alone”… What are you saying? I can’t move. I want to follow you. But you can’t hear me. I’m fighting hard. But…I’m getting hot… too hot. Should I be afraid again? No, I won’t be afraid. I think, I think I’m better now. The room is getting brighter and brighter. My friends and Sean are disappearing into a tiny speck. My eyes are burning, but they are staying open. They hurt.
Am I getting real again or am I still lost in madness? That must be what it is. I’m having delusions or nightmares? There are white shadows swimming in front of me. I can’t touch them, but oh now- they’re beginning to hold still. I can almost see what they are. Almost. Oh, almost is over. I see. I know what they are. But, it’s funny. The white are not people. They are walls and floor. I am on the floor and all’s now staying still. I’m in a white padded room, and the crazy visions are gone. I’m alone, and all is real again.
I must remember now. Someone had injected me with something. I’ve been hallucinating, but it’s over. I feel exhaustion…and relief. But I’m still trapped. Sam sighed and closed his eyes. I’ll just rest briefly. I feel alone, very alone.
#
Hours passed, no one has come. Have they forgotten me? Am I worth so little? No, they are saving me. Why? What for? Questions keep exploding in my consciousness. I want answers.”
#
Suddenly, one huge wall slid back. Sam struggled up and stood weakly.
A chubby elfin little man walked up and pointed a huge gun at Sam. He muttered sourly, “Come, Stone. I’m small, but I have a big gun. I shoot quickly. Obey me.” Elf shot at the floor and a giant hole appeared in it. “That could be you.”
Sam gaped at the hole’s size. “I guess I get the message. Big hole. Where are we going? Is there anything good that I can look forward to?”
“No,” the little man replied.
“Well, anything is better than this room, I think,” said Sam as he balanced unsteadily on his feet. Sam began to lunge at the gun, but Elf was fast. He fired at Sam. Sam jumped and hurled himself to the side, just in time. He stared at Elf and then at another huge hole, inches from his body. He slowly got up and moved to the side of the hole.
“I think I got your message a little better this time. I’ll come,” Sam muttered flatly.
“Good choice, Stone. I enjoy killing. I forgot to tell you that,” said Elf with a sadistic smile.
“I believe you,” Sam grunted. He straightened. Elf circled Sam and then jammed the gun into his back.
“Walk,” Elf screeched.
“Calm down, and yes, I’ll do that,” Sam muttered.
They walked down multiple empty hallways. Sam tried to remember the route. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he felt it might be important later. They finally emerged from the maze of corridors and into a large room, bursting with very old people of various nationalities.
The huge crowd turned when he entered and rushed over, pawing and fawning over him. “Help me,” each implored. Their pleas tumbled over and over as they kept turning Sam around. He yanked away in his confusion. “Why, what’s going to happen to you?”
Elf suddenly barked and waved his gun, “Back up, ladies and gentlemen.”
The mob stepped back against the walls. Their eyes bored into Sam. They stood, as if programmed by a mysterious force.
“Why are they just standing there, looking at us?” Sam asked in awe.
“They await orders,” Elf said curtly.
“What kind of orders?” Sam replied hesitantly.
“You are only passing through. Walk,” Elf continued.
Sam walked. He had a bad feeling though. They entered another large room, all white, with a desk and chair rising from the middle. Windows set high in the ceiling seemed to stare down at him. Nothing else lined the room.
Sam felt like he was in some kind of hospital, but there were no beds. Nothing fit the stereotype. Of course, the last few days didn’t fit the stereotype of his world either. He felt on the edge now. He feared that he wouldn’t be able to return to his old life and self, even if he ever wanted to.
Elf gestured to a solitary chair. Sam sat feigning calmness.
Elf grunted, “Good Day,” and then was gone.
“Hmm,” Sam called, “You’re leaving me alone. Was it something I said?” Sam stood up, paced, and then sat tentatively in the chair again.
Suddenly the walls changed color. They were now lavender. Sam’s mouth fell open in surprise. He quickly shook off his shock. Feeling stronger, He began to pace the room, over and over again in frustration.
Then, he stopped. A man had entered, this time a very tall massive one. Elf and his gun followed him and, to Sam’s surprise, Mekka trailed behind. But Sam could quickly see that this Mekka was not the self-possessed and domineering man that he remembered. Mekka’s eyes were now staring within a withered body. A large cataract-like film covered one eye, and his back had hunched over.
Elf followed with his gun and spoke, “Sit on the floor, Stone. That is now the boss’s chair. Get out of the chair!”
“And if I say no?” Sam queried in his sweetest voice.
“Max will throw you against the wall.” Elf pointed to the massive hulk who stood glaring beside him. “Then I’ll destroy your head with my big gun. Now sit, there,” Elf waved his gun to a spot on the floor.
“Max is big. All right. I’ll give up my chair to Dr. Mekka,” Sam said pleasantly. He felt trepidation, but he wasn’t about to show it.
Sam got up and stood aside. Dr. Mekka did not move.
Elf grunted. It is not for Dr. Mekka.
They all waited silently. Suddenly, a door opened, and a man, puffing on a stinky cigar, lumbered over to the chair and sat. He stared at Sam. No one moved.
Then Cigar Man spoke in a low voice. “Mr. Stone, I am the Executioner. We have a problem. You… Your brother was an asset, you are not. Prove me wrong. What do you know about Acceleration? You did not respond well to drugs, this time, perhaps because of your former military training. We would prefer to not experiment on you further, unless necessary. So, perhaps you could be a gentleman and tell us. You have the floor, Mr. Stone.”
Sam chose his words carefully. “You killed my brother.”
Cigar Man grinned malevolently. “Your brother was brilliant. Did he give you his notes?”
Sam glared back. He hated evil men on power trips. “I repeat,” Sam replied crisply. “You killed my brother. And, do you really think that Sean would show or give me his notes? I guess that you aren’t as smart as you think you are. You’re a fool.”
Cigar Man’s face seemed to freeze the room. He nodded at Elf.
Sam backed up as Elf crossed with his large gun and then started to slam it across Sam’s head. Sam caught it in the air, but Elf was strong and they stood facing each other with equal strength.
“Met your match, eh Elf. Surprised?” Sam taunted.
Elf nodded and four huge men entered the room. Despite Sam’s usual good blocking skills, he knew that he’d probably lose this one. The strong burly foes shoved Sam back and pinned him against the wall. Elf sat his gun on the floor, smiled with repulsion and crashed his iron fist into Sam’s face.
Sam coughed and tried hard to see and recover. He felt blood gushing from his nose and mouth and swiped his face with his hand.
Cigar Man looked at Sam with contempt. “Do you think I need the gun? I have steel in my hands, but I like to preserve them normally. Where are the notes?”
“Temper temper, big guy. I’ll show you my secrets if you show me yours!” Sam felt
total revulsion for this man.
Suddenly Cigar Man simpered. “I doubt that your evasions will help you. Sometimes I enjoy eliminating people in other ways.”
As if on an unseen cue, Elf led Mekka slowly out the door.
Cigar Man started to walk out also. Suddenly he turned and grunted, “Stone, you will soon be going to a terribly painful death. A small pity. Very small. We will enjoy watching.”
Elf and his four nasty assistants turned to Stone, gave obscene grins, and followed their boss out of the room. The door noisily locked behind him.
Sam listened warily to the silence. Then he suddenly turned and whirled about the room. Something was happening. Were the lights growing dim? A moment later Sam was enveloped in blackness, except for the slight shadowing from the high windows. He let out a breath and stumbled for the exit. He grasped the cool metal of the door knob. It turned too easy now, he thought. But he continued to inch along the outside corridor. The walls seemed to be getting closer, or was his imagination working overtime? No, he thought, it was definite! They were moving and faster now. He would soon be crushed. Now would be a good time for prayer and a miracle.
Cigar Man’s low harsh voice boomed from all sides. “Stone Stone Stone….” The voice repeated over and over again. Suddenly the walls and Cigar Man’s voice stopped. “Stone, here is your only stop on your tour to freedom or oblivion. I suppose you choose death. Your loss. This is where you and others are released from your life’s burdens. You have outlived your usefulness.” His obscene laugh shook the walls.
Sam saw the flames leaping out at the end of the hallway tunnel. They seemed to get closer every second. Sam jerked away from the walls as his arm sizzled at the touch of the heat.
“My God!” Sam choked and tried to hold down the surging panic. “All right. Stop. I have Sean’s notes!” Sam yelled out. “You want them. You need to keep me alive for that!” Sam desperately hoped he was heard over the roaring flames. He feared his adversary had left him, the prey, to die painfully and alone, but then… No. Someone that sadistic would want to watch or at least listen to the death screams of his victims.
“You can hear me, I know you’re watching, you bastard,” Sam yelled. “You kill me and the notes are lost forever, or someone more evil and smarter than you will find them!” Sam’s voice felt raw, and it was hard to breathe now.
Cigar Man’s voice boomed back. “We’ll find them without your help.”
“But what if you don’t. Can you take that chance, can you?” Sam tried to sound confident, but his stomach was knotting up and he was feeling a crushing weakness as well as unbearable heat.
Suddenly…it was like being slapped awake from a nightmare. Sam blinked and coughed as the noise and flames stopped their hungry assault. An arm reached out and grabbed him out of the hell on Earth that was to be his tomb. He was tossed into the now blinding lavender meeting room of his previous encounter.
Sam coughed and gasped for air as he struggled to stand on the floor. He sensed Cigar Man perched triumphantly in the doorway. “Are you always this unpleasant with guests?” Sam shouted painfully and then coughed again.
“Only with people I don’t like,” Cigar Man leered back.
“Oh my,” Sam said sarcastically. He definitely hated this guy. He had a feeling, however, that despite his nastiness, the guy was not the brains of this insane outfit.
Suddenly the walls and floor fell away, and Cigar Man was gone. In fact, Sam’s gravity was also gone. He felt disoriented, like he was floating chaotically over an abyss. He shouted as he struggled to stay upright. “No floor, no walls. Clever design but unusable, not very creative. I expected more from an ugly man who smokes stinky cigars.”
Cigar Man boomed over a speaker again, “Shut up, Stone.”
“I may do that. It is hard to hold an intelligent conversation with a pawn instead of the big shot.” Sam was enjoying taunting this creep now.
“You are mistaken.” Cigar Man replied with venom. “You, Stone, are the pawn.”
Suddenly the walls reformed in a bright orange color. Sam swallowed hard.
“Thanks for the walls,” he shouted, “but I hate orange. It’s getting boring.”
No one responded. Sam felt movement, however, and turned to see a figure at the end of the room. A cot and desk sparkled with a garish orange florescence in this crazy orange Oz-land. An orange computer sat on the desk with a matching whining printer. As Sam moved slowly across the room, the form reclined on the cot. He solidified slowly in Sam’s vision.
Sam wiped his eyes and starred. “Dr. Mekka!�
�� he said in surprise and then rushed to the cot.
Dr. Mekka did not respond. He seemed unconscious or asleep. Sam peered over at the printout. It seemed to be mathematical gibberish. Sam sat on the edge of Mekka’s bed. He shook him, but Mekka did not awaken. The minutes passed.
“I’m alive but confused”. Sam thought out loud. He looked around with worry about
what had happened to Caroline, hoping she was at home. He was glad she’s wasn’t with him now in this pseudo-Frankenstein den.
Mekka’s computer suddenly stopped its cryptic paper printing blitz. Sam picked up the mass of pages and sat down. He began to read and got lost in their complexity.
CHAPTER 11
Two hours of studying the notes and still Sam didn’t have the foggiest idea of what they meant. He knew that he was being watched. The watchers were probably disappointed and bored to death. That’s justice. Sam laughed to himself.
Mekka began to stir.
“Dr. Mekka, are you well?” Sam sat at the side of the bed and quietly asked.
“I’m functioning. Mr. Stone, why are you here? Is Sean with you?” Mekka looked across the room. “I see not. Too bad,” Mekka’s voice trembled as he tried to sit up on the edge of the cot. “I could use his assistance in my work.” Sam reached out his hand to help.
“Thank you, young man. I’m sorry for my abrupt behavior when we first met, but secrecy was necessary.” He frowned and looked around. “You shouldn’t be here. Where’s Sean?” His voice suddenly lost its warmth, as he noticed the papers in Sam’s hands, “Give me those papers. They’re mine and not yours.” He jerked them away as Sam relented. “Get out, Mr. Stone, now.”
Sam wasn’t afraid or angry. He just felt pity at the tragedy of the doctor’s dedication to his dangerous experiments. “I’d love to leave, but I’m a prisoner now, possibly just like you, and Sean is dead. Explain why and what’s going on here.”
“Dead, no!” Mekka was stunned. “He’s a fine young man. He’s like a son. What…what happened?”
“First I must tell you that we are being watched by your men and a big obnoxious lug with a cigar,” said Sam quietly.
