Convulsive Box Set

by Marcus Martin

  Marissa loosened her jumpsuit as they descended the steps towards the blood bank. The dripping noises grew louder. Spiraling ivy lined their route, the leaves of which darkened with each floor they descended, gradually turning from purple to midnight blue.

  As they reached the basement they halted on the staircase; the entire level was submerged. Water lapped at the upper steps, barely a foot from the ceiling.

  “Burst water main?” said Lucy, casting her light down the steps at the submerged doorway.

  She marveled at the steam rising from the water’s surface. Water droplets fell from the ivy onto the black water below, where the plant’s roots disappeared. Jade-colored reeds protruded above the surface and arched over themselves as they brushed against the ceiling. Among the reeds grew lily pads. They were violet-colored, shaped like a half-bowl, and stuck to the walls. A bristly green stamen arched over each bowl akin to a hovering chopstick.

  “How come it’s warm?” said Marissa, casting her light across the dripping plant life.

  “My money’s on thermogenic plants. In Wisconsin there were these skunk cabbages which used to melt the snow so they could pollinate. Maybe these plants have appropriated some of those genes,” said Lucy.

  “Luckily for you they’ve turned it into a sauna,” said Marissa.

  “What?” said Lucy.

  “You’re going in there,” Marissa retorted.

  “You can’t be serious,” said Lucy.

  “The blood bank’s down there and I’m sure as hell not going in - you’re the immune one.”

  Lucy stared at the misting, black water.

  “This is insane,” she said, shuddering.

  “Going back to the Queen empty handed would be insane. This is better, trust me,” said Marissa.

  Lucy picked up a defunct pager from the stairs and tossed it into the water. She and Marissa trained their lights on the ripples. The waves radiated outwards and lapped against the walls until they’d dissipated entirely.

  “Where’s the blood bank?” said Lucy.

  “How would I know? Read the signs,” said Marissa.

  “In the dark?” said Lucy.

  “Your flashlight’s water resistant,” said Marissa.

  “My clothes aren’t,” said Lucy.

  “I guess that’s a fair point. Let’s check the staff changing rooms. Someone in the place will have a swimming costume, I guarantee it – it’s a hospital. They’re all health nerds,” said Marissa.

  “Surely we could just look for blood someplace else – another hospital, perhaps?” said Lucy, as Marissa led them up a level and into the frosty corridor.

  “No time,” said Marissa.

  “But –” began Lucy.

  Marissa cut her off.

  “This is non-negotiable, so get over it. Either we get you some gear, or you go in like that and freeze when you come out. I really don’t care,” said Marissa.

  They weaved between empty trolleys and beds, taking care not to disturb the ivy as they searched for the staff area.

  “Here,” said Marissa, crossing behind a reception desk and through the private doorway, revealing men’s and women’s changing rooms. They entered the female section and set about searching the lockers, most of which were locked.

  “You got anything?” said Marissa, rifling through the few bags on the benches.

  “Not really,” said Lucy, inspecting a gym bag full of running kit.

  Marissa appeared over her shoulder.

  “That’ll do,” she said, grabbing the bag and leaving the room.

  “What about my eyes – and my hair?” protested Lucy, hurrying to keep up as Marissa swung into the men’s locker room.

  “Way ahead of you,” said Marissa, poking around the discarded items. “Aha! Seek and you shall find,” she cheered, tossing Lucy a bag containing goggles, trunks, and a second towel. “Oh, and grab some empty bags – we’ll need to transport the blood in something,” added Marissa, as she shook out a couple of backpacks and slung them over her shoulder.

  “How much blood are we taking?” said Lucy.

  “As much as they’ve got. Now come on, clock’s ticking,” said Marissa, grabbing a third bag and heading for the exit.

  They returned to the basement level where Lucy stripped off. Goose pimples faded from her skin as her body relaxed in the humid air.

  “You always had it?” said Marissa, staring at Lucy’s back as she changed.

  “Had what?” said Lucy, pulling on the male swim trunks.

  “Eczema,” said Marissa, tilting her head.

  Lucy craned her neck and examined the base of her spine, where a band of red lesions spanned both hips.

  “Oh, yeah, it flares up sometimes,” she muttered, hastily pulling the running top over her head.

  “I think blood’s down the corridor on the right,” said Marissa, squatting and examining the sign above the basement doorway.

  Lucy pulled the rubbery swimming cap over her hair. She wrestled it down until it pinged into place across her forehead.

  “Tie this around your waist,” said Marissa, pulling a fire hose from the wall.

  “For real?” said Lucy.

  “Give three sharp tugs on it if you get into trouble and I’ll haul you in,” said Marissa.

  Lucy tied the red hose around her waist as best she could. The nozzle poked up off the end, awkwardly pressing into her abdomen.

  Lucy picked up her flashlight and slung three empty backpacks over her shoulder. She descended down onto the first submerged step, allowing the water to engulf her feet and ankles. It was warm – inviting almost, save for the darkness, and the plant life. Lucy pulled the goggles over her eyes and waded down up to her waist then cast off from the steps and swam towards the door.

  “I can’t find the handle,” Lucy called to Marissa, who was covering her with the rifle.

  “You gotta swim for it. Suck it up, we don’t have all night,” said Marissa.

  Lucy took a deep breath and ducked below the surface. She squeezed the air pockets out of the empty bags, which dragged in the water. The green reeds stretched to the floor, which was around two meters below the surface. Lucy transferred the torch into her bag-holding arm and pulled the door open, then swam through into the submerged corridor.

  The trunk of the ivy stretched along the length of the wall in both directions, where it regularly branched off into a vertical root structure – much like a mangrove tree. Its leaves were gone, but the thick, midnight blue trunks were studded with tiny white flowers. The base of each trunk ended in a large tubular ‘bucket’. Each trunk-bucket had a waxy-looking lid. The majority were lifted like toilet seats. They appeared hollow and glowed violet as Lucy illuminated each one in turn, until she reached the first with a closed lid. The flashlight revealed a small, curled mass contained within the bucket, which briefly belched out a gas bubble, causing the lid to flap open a few inches.

  Lucy swam over to the bucket and treaded water. It belched again and the lid lifted up. She glimpsed inside: a dead rat, wrapped in fine violet tentacles. Lucy swam to the surface and took a gasp of air. The blood bank was along and right, as Marissa had said. She swam forwards but after several more meters felt a jolt across her waist; she’d reached the extent of the fire hose. Spotting a trolley below, she swam down and re-tied the hose around its metal handlebar, before continuing onwards, untethered.

  She turned the door handle to the blood bank and swam into the room. Tall refrigerators lined the walls. Charts and packing boxes were scattered across the worktops and floor. Lucy pulled open the nearest fridge. With the flashlight tucked under her arm, she stuffed bags of crimson blood into a backpack. It became heavy, quickly. She zipped it up, and let it sink onto a worktop in the center of the room, then surfaced to catch her breath. Bubbles breached the surface from the far side of the room as another plant trunk discharged its gases.

  Lucy dived down and filled the second and third backpacks from the next fridges, then left the room. As
she swam back towards the main corridor, a clicking sound pricked her ears. She turned, mid-water. Her flashlight reached down the length of the corridor, illuminating the reeds and ivy trunks within. The clicking sounded again. She swiveled around and shone her light in the other direction. The double-door at the far end was swinging shut. She kicked away and more clicks ensued as a limbless creature slithered out from the far thicket of reeds.

  Its body was long, and moved like an eel’s. It seemed impervious to her flashlight as it slowly snaked towards her. The anemic creature was easily as long as her. A ridge of fins lined the second half of its tail, which tapered to a point.

  As Lucy swam harder the creature clicked louder and sped up. She stopped immediately and waited, suspended in the water, as the creature approached. A trunk halfway along the corridor let out an almighty belch and the creature swiveled around, darting towards the source. Lucy seized the opportunity and made a dash for the trolley. She slung the backpacks onto the trolley and tugged the hose sharply three times. The hose tautened and the trolley began to wheel towards the double doors. The clicking sound resumed in the distance, getting louder as it approached the intersection. Lucy spun around, training the torch on the junction as the clicking grew louder, trying to kick backwards as she watched.

  With a clang, the trolley collided with the door frame behind her. The clicking erupted into a near drumroll as the creature sped towards the commotion. Lucy frantically paddled towards the door and pushed it open, straightening the trolley up for Marissa to reel in. She glanced down the corridor – the creature was swimming towards her with speed. Lucy grabbed her flashlight and hurled it towards the far end of the corridor like a Frisbee. It struck the hanging metal sign with a clatter, and dropped into the water below with a splash. The clicking creature spun around and ferreted towards the clatter as Lucy slipped through the doorway to the stairwell.

  Lucy splashed out of the water and onto the steps, startling Marissa, who had hoisted the trolley up the first few steps and was retrieving the backpacks.

  “Get away from the water!” cried Lucy, scrambling up onto the flat mid-story platform on the staircase.

  Marissa grabbed the bags and leapt backwards from the water, letting the trolley slip back down with a bump. Marissa grabbed her rifle and trained it on the black, misting water, and the basement doorway.

  “Get changed, quickly,” she ordered.

  Lucy dried herself hastily, stripping off and scrubbing the water away, wincing as the towel rubbed the bruises and lesions on her malnourished body. A loud clicking echoed through the water and the basement door flapped open. Marissa backed away further from the water’s edge.

  An anemic, veiny webbed paw slapped out onto the first step above the water line. Marissa fired at it, tearing the paw in two. The creature’s limb retracted as a cloudy, milky liquid floated to the surface. She stared at the black water, waiting for the ripples to settle. A second paw slapped onto the step and Marissa fired again. Lucy grabbed her clothes and raced up to the next level, where she hastily pulled her uniform back on. Marissa followed, clutching the blood bags, and covering the stairs below. They stumbled along the corridor to the nearest desk island, where Marissa paused.

  “Sling these two on. I’ll take the third,” said Marissa, lowering her rifle and handing Lucy two of the backpacks.

  “Freeze!” cried a voice from the darkness.

  Lucy squinted as a flashlight dazzled them.

  “Shit,” muttered Marissa, raising one arm in surrender.

  “Don’t,” came another voice from the side, catching Marissa’s stealthy reach for her trigger.

  “Toss it,” demanded the man ahead.

  Marissa reluctantly slid her rifle across the floor, shunting it a token few feet towards the men. She raised both hands and Lucy copied.

  Behind the flashlights, Lucy could just about make out two men up ahead, and one to their side. The men appeared to have hand guns, and looked like civilians.

  “What’s in the bags?” called the man ahead of them.

  “Blood,” said Marissa.

  “For real?” said the man.

  “Yup,” said Marissa. She slowly unzipped her backpack and tilted it towards them. The men shone the spotlights on the blood bags.

  “What you doing with three backpacks full of blood?” said the man.

  “Fuck you, that’s what,” said Marissa.

  “I reckon we want them bags. Toss ‘em over,” said the man.

  “Not gonna happen,” said Marissa.

  “Toss ‘em or we shoot,” said the man.

  “You shoot us and there’s blood everywhere. Then the creatures come.”

  “We’ll be gone by then, it’s you they’ll find,” said the man.

  “So then what’s the point? If all that happens here is you kill us, then that seems a waste of your resources. You got infinite ammo?”

  “We got plenty of ammo,” said the man.

  “Uh-huh, sounds that way,” said Marissa.

  “Lie down on the ground,” said the man.

  “Fuck you,” said Marissa.

  The man to their side edged closer, his light growing brighter.

  “You want me to take them, boss?”

  “Yeah, but the bitch is right – save your ammo. We’ll take them old school,” said the man, closing in.

  Lucy swiped her hand across the ivy, showering the floor in withering violet leaves. She grabbed Marissa’s arm and the pair turned and ran. Moss-covered strip lights flickered on overhead, filling the corridor with blue illumination as the men chased after them.

  “What the hell?” cried one of the men, as the sound of buzzing hornets filled the air.

  The men’s shouts of confusion turned to shouts of pain as the hornets attacked. They fired hopelessly at the nimble insects, further antagonizing the swarm.

  Lucy and Marissa sped down the corridor, aided by moonlight reaching through the windows, until they reached a fire exit. Lucy kicked it open and they clambered down the metal staircase, jumping onto the snow below.

  “This way!” urged Marissa, sprinting towards their van across the street.

  She whacked on the ignition and hauled the vehicle around as gun shots rang out from the emergency exit. They sped away, out of view of the hospital, and out of the gunner’s range.

  “Wait, where are you taking us?” said Lucy, as they diverged from their original route.

  “We’ve got one more stop to make,” said Marissa, climbing through the gears.

  ***

  Marissa brought the van to a halt outside an imposing stone building. Appellate Division · Supreme Court of the State of New York · Second Department. The inscription was writ large across the top of the building, spanning its entire width. Slender, moon-made shadows clung to the pillars framing the entrance, accentuating its height.

  Marissa grabbed a spare flashlight and jumped out, drawing her handgun as she marched up the stone. Lucy stuck close by her as she pushed through two consecutive sets of metal-and-glass doors. The golden door frames matched the gilded lettering across the glass, which reiterated the building’s purpose.

  Marissa struck her handgun against the frame of the metal-detector with a clang as she swaggered through. The building was pitch-black inside, save for the light from Marissa’s flashlight, which jerked unevenly as she marched.

  As they rounded the corridor the light fell across fresh moss, which was growing along the skirting boards. Feeding off it were three tortoises with beige-green shells. The sight of the reptiles startled Marissa, who fired her pistol, killing the first outright.

  “Shit,” she cursed, freezing and assessing the other creatures’ reactions.

  While the remaining tortoises seemed indifferent to the loss of their comrade, several lice scurried out from beneath the skirting board and began feasting on the fresh carcass. Marissa scanned her light across the rest of the hallway, checking for other signs of life, but there were none, save for the moss
and algae covering the walls in shades of blue and purple.

  “Come on,” said Marissa, pressing on.

  They reached another golden door, with a fresh inscription above it: Courtroom One. Marissa kicked the door open and stormed in, flashlight and pistol raised.

  The courtroom was cavernous, with a ceiling two stories high, ornately decorated with patterned square tiles. The walls were made of grey-white stone, the bottom half of which was clad in oak paneling. Rows of seats filled the room, divided by a central aisle. At the far end was the judge’s bench, which spanned the width of the room. The five judicial seats were framed by two flags – the Stars and Stripes on the left, and another which Lucy didn’t recognize on the right.

  A groan from the front of the room startled Lucy. Marissa trained her light on the upper left hand side, and made a beeline towards the sound.

  Two figures sat slumped by the front. They were positioned behind the defendant’s desk; handcuffed to their seats and to the table legs. Lucy gasped as she saw their uniforms – they were police officers. A rancid smell hit Lucy’s nostrils as she approached; the female officer was dead. Her face was pale and emaciated. The carpet by her feet was blood soaked, where blood had pooled in her legs and burst through the skin. The male cop next to her whimpered as they approached, begging for mercy in a desert-dry voice.

  “Officer Priestly, good to see you again,” said Marissa, illuminating the terrified man’s face.

  “Please… just kill me,” he stammered.

  “Like you killed that kid? Come on, that’d be too easy. This is about justice, surely you’ve figured that out by now?” said Marissa.

  “Help me,” begged Priestly, looking past Marissa to Lucy.

  “Don’t listen to him. This man doesn’t deserve help,” said Marissa.

  “Why are they here?” said Lucy, pulling her uniform over her nose.

  “They’re awaiting trial. Though it looks like she won’t be testifying anymore,” said Marissa, flicking the light at the dead cop.

  “They’re police officers,” said Lucy, shocked.

  “I know, it’s disgusting. Someone though it’d be a good idea to give this scumbag a badge and a gun. He went and killed an unarmed teenage boy last year. There was phone footage of the kid surrendering and everything. Hands raised, on his knees. And yet Officer Priestly here still saw fit to shot him in the back three times. Why was that, Officer?”