Convulsive Box Set

by Marcus Martin

  “Yo, lady, you want what we sellin’ or not? We come a long-assed way to-” he began.

  The Queen interrupted him with a raised hand.

  Willis regrouped and continued, more aggressively. “You fucking for real? You basically strip search us out in the damned snow, then make us stand around while you do some weird hip-hop poetry ritual or whatever that was. Naw, I’m callin’ it – we here to sell or we leavin’. So are you here to buy or what?”

  The Queen sighed, and continued looking across the water.

  “It’s always such a pity,” she said, wistfully.

  “What’s ‘a pity’?” sneered Willis.

  “You have high hopes for someone, then you discover they’re not a quick learner. Marissa, tell me, is it proper to speak to one’s leader without being invited?”

  “No, ma’am, it’s disrespectful,” said Marissa.

  “Indeed. And what is a leader without respect?”

  Marissa hesitated.

  “It’s not a trick, honey. I know you know the answer,” added the Queen.

  “They’re nothing?” said Marissa.

  “Precisely. Which puts me in a difficult situation, does it not? Either I accept that the newcomer does not respect me, and in doing so condone the erosion of my own leadership, or I gain his respect, and the balance is restored.”

  The kettle climaxed to a boil and clicked off.

  “Guys, would you mind?” said the Queen, addressing Marissa’s guards with a modest smile.

  The pair seized Willis’s arms from behind. One kicked his knee, sending him to the ground, while the other twisted Willis’s wrist backward, forcing him to cry out. Before the other soldiers could intervene, the guards on the sofa leapt up and trained their Tasers on the group – as did Marissa and the DJ.

  The guards forced Willis over to the kettle. They grabbed his spare hand and slammed it over the spout. Willis yelped in pain as the searing metal scolded his skin. Marissa waltzed over and turned the kettle back on, keeping her finger depressed on the switch. The kettle boiled furiously, spewing steam into Willis’s palm. The soldier screamed in agony and begged for it to end.

  After eight agonizing seconds, the Queen called them off. The soldiers released Willis and he fell to the ground, clutching his hand, sobbing. Gasping for breath, and trying to stifle his sobs with grunts, he rose to his knees and staggered back towards the group. His cheeks were wet, and mucus streamed from his nose. He fell in line behind Brown and Peters, next to Lucy, with his head bowed.

  The Queen returned to the kettle and poured herself a cup of tea. She peeled open a packet of UHT soya milk and tipped it in, then stirred.

  “I’ve gotta hand it to my team. I don’t know where they keep finding these sachets. I swear I drank Brooklyn dry months ago,” said the Queen.

  “There’s still Manhattan and Queens,” chipped Marissa.

  “That is good news. Marissa, honey, a question for you. A radio’s gone missing from the textiles floor. How shall we get it back?” said the Queen.

  “Address the whole floor, tell them what’s happened and give them a deadline to find and return it?” suggested Marissa.

  “What if they miss the deadline?” said the Queen.

  “Then no-one on that floor eats until it’s returned,” Marissa shrugged.

  “Is that the best way?” said the Queen.

  “I guess it could piss people off,” Marissa conceded.

  “Why should that matter to us?” pressed the Queen.

  “Because most of those people are loyal?” said Marissa.

  “Do they deserve to be punished for someone else’s error?” said the Queen.

  “No, ma’am,” frowned Marissa.

  “So perhaps an alternative?” said the Queen.

  “We could talk to some of them in private – the reliables. Quietly find out who did it then punish them publicly?”

  “Why is that better?”

  “Keeps people on side and sends a message. Could deter other people from doing the same thing?” said Marissa.

  “You’d better get started. Talk of the theft will already be spreading. Let’s turn that into talk of the consequences. Oh, and take mister beardy big mouth here down to medical as you go – the first ten minutes are so important for burns,” added the Queen, gesturing to Willis, who remained hunched over in pain.

  “What about the others?” said Marissa, nodding at the group.

  “I’ll deal with them,” said the Queen.

  Marissa bowed and took Willis from the room.

  The Queen added two spoonfuls of sugar to her tea and stirred it, before clinking the spoon noisily against the sides, setting the spoon down on the counter, and addressing the group. “I’m developing her management skills. I’ve always felt a personal obligation to nurture potential wherever I find it. Marissa’s weakness is that she’s too keen to impress me. It makes her reach for heavy-handed solutions, and they can cause more problems than they solve, you know? But Marissa’s hard-working and she’s loyal. If you’re both of those things, you’ll thrive here. Which brings me to you, Maurice, does it not? No doubt you’ll tell me you worked hard to get back here, but I think we can agree there’s a question mark over your loyalty,” said the Queen.

  She blew across the hot cup then stared at Maurice while taking a sip.

  “Well? Out with it,” she prompted.

  Maurice edged forwards, wary of the Tasers still being levied at him. He fell to his knees, clasped his hands, and looked up at the Queen. “My Queen, I was a fool to leave you. I planned to return and tell you I was, like, super sorry, but after everything you’ve done for me, I knew I needed more than an apology. So I scoured the nation until I found a gift worthy of you, and yesterday I found them. The first humans who are immune to those horrible alien beasts,” said Maurice, rising to his feet and gesturing to Lucy and Lopez with a bow.

  “Immune how?” said the Queen, eyeing Lucy up as the Canadian presented her and Lopez.

  “The creatures are scared of them, ma’am. I’ve seen it. They won’t attack them, or even touch them. It’s incredible, they’re like human shields,” said the Canadian, circling Lucy like she was a collectible.

  “That’s quite a claim,” said the Queen, taking another sip of tea.

  “I’ve seen it in action. I was being attacked by a beast and the woman put herself between me and it. The way the creature backed out – it was like she was on fire or something. Then him, this guy, he’s unreal. The Major fell down a rock face, right into this reptile creature’s path, and the thing backed away. It went around him,” said Maurice, framing Lopez with his hands.

  The Queen said nothing and continued sipping her tea. Maurice cleared his throat and continued, nervously. “The woman, she’s a scientist, too,” he said, opening Lucy’s backpack and pulling out the green paste. “She put this stuff on my hand when I got cut. It stopped the bleeding and covered up the scent so the creatures didn’t detect us.”

  He passed the tub to the Queen, who inspected it.

  “Ungag her,” the Queen ordered.

  A guard removed Lucy’s gag.

  “What is this?” said the Queen, waving the tub at Lucy.

  “I don’t know. My predecessor made it. But it works like he said,” said Lucy, nodding at Maurice.

  “Bring me whatever else she’s got in there,” said the Queen, gesturing to Lucy’s backpack. A guard pulled out Lucy and Rangecroft’s notebooks and handed them over.

  “These yours, too?” said the Queen, flicking through both.

  “One is,” said Lucy.

  “I see. You can go now. I’ll call for you when I’m ready,” said the Queen, taking a seat at her desk and opening Lucy’s diary. She snapped her fingers and the DJ cranked the volume as the guards chaperoned the group out into the hall.

  Lucy took care not to overbalance as they descended the staircase, her stability hampered by her tied hands. A few floors down, Brown, Adler, and Peters were separated
from Lucy and Lopez and taken away onto that level. Lucy and Lopez were escorted down two more floors then shown into a level filled with glass office cubicles. The guard slid a nearby cubicle open and moved Lucy inside, but blocked Lopez, who was still gagged, from entering. The guard cut the cords binding Lucy’s hands, then slid the glass door shut and locked her inside.

  Lopez was led away around the corner and out of sight. Lucy glanced around the rest of the floor. The other cubicles were filled with people of different ages, laboring. Some were stripping electrical cables, others were stuffing rags into cushions, others were charting a route across a map of the city. She re-examined her own cubicle. It was around five yards wide, and eight yards long. Wooden desks lined each glass wall in a U-shape. Upon them sat Macs and keyboards, and various charging ports. In the corner was a bucket of water, a sponge, and an empty bucket. In the middle of the floor, a makeshift bed of sofa cushions and a sleeping bag had been laid out. Next to it lay a towel and fresh night clothes.

  The office had no blinds, but the lower half of the glass was frosted, so Lucy knelt down and stripped off. She gave herself a brisk clean with the cold water, wincing as she pressed the tender, bruised parts of her shoulder where Peters had tackled her in the forest. Below the bruising she noticed blotches on her upper arm. She checked the other arm – they were there too. The skin looked dry and irritated, and had a reddish tinge. She dried herself off, changed into the night clothes, and crawled into the sleeping bag. As she closed her bloodshot eyes, she couldn’t help but picture Jackson’s crumpled body. She had been kind to Lucy, in the end. She had deserved better.

  ***

  “Lucy!” Dan cried. His voice echoed around the trees.

  Lucy ran, bare-footed through the dark forest, searching for the source. She opened her mouth to call his name but no sound came out. The tangled canopy rippled above, drip-feeding dim moonlight across the leaves. The branches creaked in the wind.

  “Lucy, please!” he called, a tone of panic in his voice.

  Lucy turned and ran towards his voice. Her foot struck something hard and she fell to the floor, landing hard on her ribs. She swept the leaves aside, revealing the train tracks beneath.

  “Lucy!” he cried.

  ***

  The lock turned, snapping Lucy out of her dream. Marissa stood in the threshold.

  “Get changed, the Queen wants you,” she said, staring at Lucy impatiently.

  Lucy clambered to her feet.

  “What for?” she said, faintly registering that night had fallen outside.

  “Just hurry up, or you’ll be going like that,” said Marissa.

  Lucy turned her back to the woman and quickly changed into her uniform and boots.

  “What’s with your arm?” said Marissa, eyeing up the red lesions.

  “You never seen eczema before?” said Lucy, hastily pulling her top half on.

  Marissa grunted. They exited the glass cubicle and Marissa led Lucy back upstairs to the top floor, taking her through security again before they entered the Queen’s apartment where Lopez was already waiting.

  “Ah, here she is, the woman of the hour. You’ve had quite the time, haven’t you?” said the Queen, waving her notebook at her.

  Lucy stared at the notebook despondently.

  “Did you get some rest?” said the Queen, setting it down on her desk.

  “A little,” said Lucy.

  “You’ll need your energy tonight, Lucy. I’m giving you the opportunity to prove yourself. Maurice has claimed you’re special; immune, even, and I need to know how much truth is in that. So tonight you will be Marissa’s body guard. She has something important to retrieve from the city, and you’re going to make sure she gets back alive. If you’re successful, Marissa will launch a flare by dawn,” said the Queen.

  “Will we get weapons?” said Lucy, glancing at Lopez.

  “Lucy, you are the weapon,” said the Queen.

  “I’m not – it doesn’t work like that, it depends on the creature,” urged Lucy.

  “Marissa will be armed, in case you try anything,” said the Queen.

  “What about the Major?” said Lucy.

  “Major Lopez will not be joining you. He’s my insurance, honey, in case you feel tempted to flee. Last I heard, he sacrificed his own escape to stop those brutish soldiers from killing you in some forest? What a sweet guy,” said the Queen.

  “I did my duty as a soldier,” said Lopez.

  “Alright, then you’re a sweet soldier. Either way, dear Lucy here owes you. Don’t worry Ms Young, so long as you’re back by sunrise, we’ll all be fine,” said the Queen.

  “And if I fail the mission?” asked Lucy.

  “If you come back empty handed, there will be non-lethal consequences for you and the Major. You will each have a chance to earn your citizenship, but there will be a punishment element. The real issue is if you don’t come back at all. In that case I’d have to execute the poor Major and I’ll be honest with you, honey, it would be very slow, and very public.”

  “You gotta send a message with these things,” agreed Marissa, finishing her rifle checks.

  “I bid you both good luck. Best hurry, only a few hours until sunrise,” said the Queen.

  Marissa led Lucy from the room, and they descended the stairs to the darkened atrium where the bony gatekeeper met them. He escorted them outside and cranked the razor wire wedge open. The night was cold but dry, around forty degrees Fahrenheit, Lucy reckoned. The moon was a thick, bright crescent, around two-thirds full. Lucy paused in the forecourt at marveled at the density of stars that hung over the blacked-out skyscrapers.

  “Hey, get a move on,” called Marissa, who had finished crawling through the wedge. Lucy followed, dusting off the snow from her hands and knees as she emerged the other side and hastened after the woman.

  Lucy and Marissa slipped through the bus blockade onto the deserted street, where Marissa unlocked a parked van. The engine echoed off empty buildings as Marissa took them across the deserted, snowy streets of Brooklyn. They drove for around ten minutes, during which time, Lucy spotted only one candle.

  “This is us,” said Marissa, parking up by an intersection and climbing out.

  NYU Lutheran Medical Centre read the sign above the hospital entrance, across the way. The street looked as if it had been frozen in time, during the bacterial outbreak. Abandoned cars and ambulances clogged the final approach to the hospital. Algae dotted the external walls and windows, and a thin vine hung across the entrance sign.

  “Why are we at the Emergency Department? Are we getting medicine?” whispered Lucy.

  “Pff, please, we took that months ago. We’re here for the blood bank,” said Marissa, opening the van’s rear door and retrieving a crowbar.

  “But it’ll be unusable – the refrigerators will have failed months ago,” said Lucy, scanning the street.

  “The science team said they can make it work. They tend to get what they want,” said Marissa, slamming the van door and heading for the entrance.

  She forced the crowbar between the hospital’s sliding doors and levered them apart. She then placed the bar horizontally between them, propping the doors open.

  “The last team we sent in here didn’t make it back, so you’d better be immune or we’re both fucked,” said Marissa, handing Lucy a flashlight. She turned the rifle’s light on, then ducked under the bar and headed inside the gloomy reception.

  The floor was covered in patches of frosted plant growth – a mixture of pale blue moss, shrubs, wild grasses, and saplings. Amidst the new growth, abandoned bed trollies lay overturned, with algae and moss growing on them. A red phone on the side of the wall hung off the hook. Lucy stepped on a badge, which crackled underfoot. She flinched, seeing the nurse’s ID, and kicked it aside.

  “This way,” said Marissa, illuminating a sign to the blood bank. Lucy followed her further into the building. As they progressed through the corridors, pockets of wild grass and winter heather ap
peared. Purple ivy stretched across the walls and ceiling, similar to that which Lucy had seen by the farm. The leaves were serrated, and had the texture of a pig’s ear – like a piece of tough leather, covered in very fine pale hairs. Lucy prodded one of the leaves with the tip of her flashlight. A shiver passed down the length of the ivy. Marissa raised her rifle and backed away. The shiver returned, rippling through the ivy back towards the afflicted leaf. The leaf shuddered and detached. It fell to the ground and shriveled, turning pale lilac. In its place on the ivy, something was wriggling out of the bud. Lucy backed away as a wet, black hornet slithered out of the broken stem and settled on the branch, pruning its glistening body.

  The hornet shook itself out and unfurled its wings. With a flutter it took off, hovering unstably as it assessed Lucy and Marissa. Marissa moved to raise her rifle but Lucy stayed her hand.

  “Don’t provoke it,” whispered Lucy.

  The hornet loomed closer and settled on Marissa’s ghost-white neck. The woman’s eyes bulged as Lucy restrained her from swatting it. Lucy moved her hand slowly towards the creature, finger and thumb ready to pinch its wings, but as she approached a flap on the tip of the hornet’s tail peeled back, revealing a thick stinger. As the hornet raised its tail, preparing to strike Marissa’s neck, they were bathed in pale blue light. The strip light above them had flickered on. It was covered in moss, which glowed pastel blue as the light shone through it, the brightness ebbing and flowing in a distinctive oscillation. The hornet retracted its stringer and took off, zig-zagging upwards until it landed on the moss. The hornet pruned its wings once again and the light faded out completely. The hornet buzzed loudly and Marissa shone her rifle light on the ceiling, but the insect couldn’t move; its feet had become stuck in the blue moss.

  “Next time, don’t touch the ivy. This way,” said Marissa, pressing on down the overgrown corridor towards the stairwell.

  As they crossed the doorway, the temperature changed. The air became humid, and there was a putrid-sweet scent of fermenting manure. Droplets of water from the stairs above fell onto Lucy’s head and shoulders. By the sounds of it, water was dripping from the stairs below, too, into a pool of sorts. The windows were steamed up.