The Enhanced Series Box Set

by T. C. Edge

  And if we did, what exactly is going to await us out there?

  The concern comes and goes quickly. My mind needs to stick with the task at hand. First step: find and secure Adryan. We can work out the rest after.

  Or, well, Zander can. Let’s be honest, if it wasn’t for him, I’d have walked right in here without having a clue what to expect, and would walk out a mindless slave of Artemis Cromwell. Once more, I’ve had to rely on the prowess and clear mind of my brother to even get us here safely.

  And now, it’s going to be down to him to get us out again.

  With Zander to my side, gripping tight at my arm and guiding me forward, and the two Hawks under our control flanking behind me, we begin moving forward.

  Ahead, more security personnel dot the place. They’re up on the walls. They’re blocking entry into each building. They’re wandering about, seemingly with nothing to do but patrol.

  It looks like overkill, really, considering the place is ostensibly so impenetrable. I wonder when the last time they had a proper security breach was?

  Or, maybe it’s just that Cromwell has too many guards and security men that he doesn’t know what the hell to do with them. Or perhaps there’s something else here he’s trying to keep in, rather than keep out…

  It’s towards the building on the right that I’m taken, towards the threatening metal doors and the mean-looking guards that block them. It appears that the guards here are less approachable than those over in the city, one of the primary requirements of the job perhaps to be of a less affable disposition. A man like Magnus, always smiling at the western gate between Inner and Outer Haven, would never be assigned to a place like this.

  We’re given entry inside, the guards grunting for Zander to take me to the detention level on ‘subterranean 1’. As we move into the long, dark corridor, I turn my eyes to my brother and, speaking telepathically, ask: Is that where Adryan is?

  His answer comes inside my head. Yes, he tells me. We just need to find his cell.

  There’s a thick tension hanging in the air as our footsteps bounce around the walls, echoing off into the gloom. The corridor is built from stone, dull and grey and growing old. Unlike the streets of Inner Haven, always so well maintained, it looks as though this place isn’t treated with such care and attention.

  Given its grim purpose, it fits. A place of desolation and hopelessness, where people see their last minutes play out in the cold darkness before they’re either executed or lobotomised and fashioned into vessels of Cromwell and the Consortium’s use.

  You can feel the fear in the walls, see the ghosts of the place in the dust that filters down from the ceiling, taking shape before us as we wander towards the stairs that give passage to the subterranean level below.

  Behind us, the two City Guards under our control continue to behave, neither of them giving us up or passing on any hint of our subterfuge. Like loyal dogs they are, yet to bite their master. But all it might take is one snap, and our presence here will be detected.

  Down the steps we go, swirling around as they curve a hundred and eighty degrees, leaving us standing in a square reception room where a single guard stands within a bulletproof booth.

  Through an intercom his voice comes.

  “State prisoner name.”

  “Brie Shaw,” growls my brother. “Set for reconditioning.”

  “Good,” says the guard. He hits a button and a buzzer sounds, followed by a click as a solid metal door beside his booth is unlocked. “Take her to cell 14. You two,” he says, referencing the Hawks. “Stay here.”

  It’s dangerous leaving the Hawks alone, and Zander knows it. Letting go of my arm, he steps a little closer to the guard in the booth, drawing his eye. The guard stares at him for a moment, before my brother steps back to me and retakes my arm.

  What was that? I ask telepathically.

  Insurance, he answers. I have him too…

  And with that, he reaches up and takes the handle of the heavy metal door, turns it down, and leads me inside.

  127

  Behind the large security door, the muted sounds of terrified calls spread from the murky space ahead. My eyes lift now, no longer requiring to hide their inner power, and search forward into the gloom, to the cells lining the corridor that stretches into the depths.

  Each one is built from solid metal too, and each has a little window of thick, barred glass giving a view of the prisoner inside. Immediately, Zander whispers to me, no longer needing to communicate in my head.

  “OK, you go left, I’ll go right. Find him quick.”

  I don’t need to be told twice.

  I immediately spring off to the first cell on the left and peer inside. I see a frame balled on the dank floor, curled up and shivering in fear. It’s not Adryan, that much is clear. But my desire to free the poor man as well instantly swells.

  He looks so alone, so frightened. Whether he’s here to be executed, or reconditioned, I can’t know. But either way, his fate is sealed, and maybe today, or tomorrow, or several days from now, the life he knows will end.

  I tear my eyes away from him and move to the next cell. I encounter a similar story, this one told by the form of a bedraggled woman, whimpering into her hands as she rocks back and forward on the little bench that lines one side of the cell.

  Before her eyes can lift to me, I step further to the left, and then onwards down the corridor as I pass by cell after cell filled with lost soul after lost soul.

  My heart breaks a little more with each person I see, my mind filling with thoughts of what they’re leaving behind; the people, the places, the experiences. That most of these people will likely be up for reconditioning and not execution, that many will probably become Con-Cops or other slaves of the system, all set to help usher in the new directives of the Consortium.

  I’ve always looked upon Con-Cops with an apathetic eye, mostly hating them for how they behave, for their lifeless eyes and unerring need to do as their masters order. I’ve looked upon them like that even though I know they were all once normal people, most of them barely criminals at all before they were turned.

  But never have I truly imagined them here, locked in these cells, waiting for the inevitable. Seeing it now brings to life the true terror that they have to go through, the desperate nature of what we’re trying to save. No one with any ounce of humanity could possibly condone such a thing.

  And that’s exactly what’s at stake: humanity.

  As I go, I turn to see Zander making swifter progress, moving from one cell to the next without batting an eyelid. I yearn to have his ability to focus on the mission only, to look upon these people with barely a blink of caring.

  He’s not a callous person, he’s just been forced to act in a callous way. He’s here to save Adryan and nothing more. There’s nothing we can do for these people, so why bother wasting time looking at them, wondering who they are, what they’ve done to find themselves here?

  He’s right. I’m wrong. And I know I’m wasting precious time.

  So I go on, refusing to look upon any single face or figure for too long. Just doing enough to make sure that it’s not Adryan before continuing onwards, working faster now until we reach a crossroads.

  Corridors stretch left and right from it, this underground dungeon far more vast than I could have expected.

  I join my brother there, and our eyes tell each other that we haven’t found Adryan yet. I can tell, too, that he’s growing more tense. He may have taken control of the guard behind the booth, but upstairs, they’ll be getting suspicious if we start to take too long.

  “We’re going to have to call out his name,” he tells me. “Shout out, tell him to tap on his door to alert us of where he is. Go left, check both sides, I’ll go right.”

  I nod and he immediately begins moving along the corridor to the right, his voice ringing out into the darkness.

  “Adryan Shaw. Which cell are you in, Adryan?!” he shouts.

  I do the same.


  “Adryan. It’s me! Adryan! Where are you?!”

  It feels good to call out, to quicken the procedure and not have to check every last cell. Yet until I hear him, I still do, moving to each little window and quickly peering inside. As we call, we occasionally stop and listen, leaving nothing but our echoing voices dancing down into the dark.

  I hear no tapping.

  No reply.

  But from behind the many metal doors, the sounds of murmuring have grown louder as people hear us. And I see, too, faces appearing right at the windows as I arrive at them, stark eyes staring out.

  Desperate. Pleading. Begging for help.

  I can’t, I mouth to them as their words arrive, muffled by their cage.

  “Help! Please!” they call, their mouths screaming but voices barely penetrating the barrier, barely reaching my ears.

  And my reply is the same, my eyes pained as I shake my head and say: “I can’t.”

  I reach the end of the corridor and there’s still nothing. I turn back and rush to the centre to find Zander doing the same.

  No success. No Adryan.

  We rush onwards down the main corridor. Shouting. Listening. Checking each room.

  Soon enough we’re at another crossroads, with two other corridors stretching left and right into the distance.

  Once more, the routine is the same. Off he goes to the right. Off I go to the left. We both call out, and we both listen, and from all the cells the terrified faces of people appear, each one carrying a hint of terrible hope.

  Hope that we will save them. Hope that their lives won’t end in this place.

  It’s a hope that cannot be given life. A hope that must be quashed.

  There’s nothing we can do.

  My desperation grows the longer it goes on, the longer it takes to hear some reaction from my husband, my man. Sometimes, the tapping sounds, the tapping of fingers on metal that I’m so desperate to hear, and my own heart lifts in hope.

  But I find nothing but an imposter awaiting me; just another man, or woman, so desperate that they think they can fool me.

  I don’t blame them. But I can’t help them either.

  So I do little more than glance at them to see that they’re not my man, before rushing straight on to the next cell, swivelling from one side of the corridor to the next on this seemingly unending search.

  Upstairs, they might be getting suspicious now. And over in the security area just beyond the cells, the guard behind the barrier, and the two Hawks under our control, might be slipping from our grasp.

  All they need to do is break the spell and it will be game over. There’s no other way out of here. No way of escape. If they figure out who Zander really is, then we won’t have a chance of freeing ourselves from this dungeon.

  And while Adryan will be given the mercy of execution, Zander will, like me, be turned into a weapon. A terrible, powerful weapon. Two twins with unique gifts, fighting side by side to take down the very cause they work for, they believe in.

  More tapping sounds on the metal doors and my voice continues to call.

  “Adryan, where are you! Where are you, Adryan?!” I shout out, more desperately now.

  Perhaps we’re too late.

  Perhaps the Hawk was wrong.

  Perhaps, in truth, he’s already been taken to see his sentence carried out. Perhaps coming here has only served to trap my brother and me down here in the darkness, two more lost souls to add to the party.

  The place is ringing now.

  Ringing with the tapping of knuckles and bony fingers against metal. Almost every door adds to the cacophony, and I don’t know where to look. Turning back and forward, my head begins to spin as I see the desperate faces and staring eyes, wide with tears and fears.

  And then, when all seems lost and impossible, I hear my brother calling. But no longer is he calling Adryan’s name.

  He’s calling mine…

  “Brie! Brie, get down here now!”

  His words echo from the long corridor way off behind me. I turn and without a second thought begin to rush, charging down the narrow passage, the tapping of doors following my step as I go, as their occupants pray and wish for me to stop and help them.

  None are on my mind now. I reach my brother, sliding to a stop beside him, and find his eyes staring through a small window and into a dank cell right in the depths of the prison. I almost push him aside as I search the interior, and see a forlorn figure sitting on the bench.

  My heart almost gives out.

  Adryan.

  I smash my fist onto the door, and see his eyes turning up to find me. They’re lost, blank, their grey light doused.

  “Adryan!” I shout, my eyes watering. “We’re here for you…”

  My brother takes my arm and pulls me away from the door. It’s as if he needed me to come and confirm it was him. I suppose that makes sense, seeing as they’ve never actually met. Zander’s knowledge of his appearance will be based only off of second hand information mined from my head.

  I’m dragged back as his weapon rises.

  He turns the dial and pumps up the power on the pulse rifle, the weapon gathering a force of energy to cut straight through the lock. Pulling the trigger, the red fire sprouts forward, fire that so recently saw off several of Zander’s men, this time seeing to the freedom of my husband.

  The lock burns and melts and the door clicks open. I rush forward and kick it so that it swings away from me. My arms rush too, wildly flailing around Adryan’s back, pulling him to his feet, reaching to his cheeks to hold his eyes firm on my own.

  I find myself kissing him too, my lips lunging to his, to try to break him free of his stupor, of the strange spell that seems to have engulfed him.

  “He’s drugged,” says Zander behind me. “Stand aside.”

  Once more, I’m pushed away as Zander withdraws the little device I’ve seen him use in the past to de-paralyse people zapped with immobilisers. Shaped like a pen, he sets the end of the device to Adryan’s neck, and clicks the end. A little buzz ripples through him and his eyes begin to return to life.

  “Brie…” he whispers, frowning. “What’s…”

  “We’re getting you out of here,” I say, my breath charging from my lungs. “I’m here with Zander.”

  His eyes switch to my brother.

  “Good to officially meet you, Adryan,” says Zander calmly. “But let’s leave it there for now. We have to get you out immediately.”

  I can sense more questions beginning to lift in his eyes, but he holds them back. It’s as if he’s awoken from a dream, or a nightmare, unsure of exactly where he is or what’s going on.

  Dressed in a blank, slate grey jumpsuit, I can see the suggestion of blood stains seeping through his clothes, the remnants of the torture he’s no doubt endured before being tossed into this cell to spend his final hours alone.

  I dread to think of the scars that have been left, both physical and mental.

  “OK, follow me,” says Zander.

  With a swift turn of speed, we begin darting back down the passage towards the main corridor, me following behind with Adryan at my side. We reach the crossroad and turn left, the security door off in the distance.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask as we go. “How the hell are we getting out of here?”

  “Straight up and out,” comes Zander’s answer. “We have no other choice.”

  We reach the main security door, the entire prison still ringing with the sounds of banging fists from inside cells. None of whom can be saved.

  I spare a final thought before we leave them to their fates, my mind this time calling out the name of W. Malcolm. I wonder if he or she is somewhere back there now, whether they’ve been executed or reconditioned. Perhaps, if not, they’ll be freed now that they know I swapped the blood sample.

  I have no confidence in that thought. Even if they’re still alive, and still themselves, then I doubt anyone will see to their release. No one here cares.

  Through
the large security door we go, plus one captive. The door shuts with a boom, blocking out the tapping on doors and the muted calls. Ahead, the Hawks stand looking upon us, and within the locked booth the other guard does the same.

  Zander does a quick check of all of their thoughts to ensure that they remain under his command. Adryan, meanwhile, stares vacantly at one of them in particular, the very Hawk who aided in the capture of his first wife, Amelia.

  He remembers him.

  He remembers the part he played in the day that changed his life. The day that set Adryan on this path, here to this place. A place he was all set to be left in.

  No longer.

  “Right,” says Zander, drawing my attention. “No alerts have been sent out. We’re in the clear, so far. But there’s no way out of here that’s quiet, Brie, I hope you understand that. We’ll use the Hawks to create a diversion. And then we’ll take our chance.”

  “The Hawks will die,” I say, turning to look at them.

  I can see the fear springing up behind their eyes. It’s as though they know they’re under control, and there’s nothing they can do about it. That Zander will send them out to shoot and be shot, to kill and be killed, just so we can escape in the opposite direction.

  And they’ll follow his orders regardless.

  “They might well,” he says bluntly.

  Adryan’s eyes liven a little at the thought. I don’t offer complaint this time. I’ll let them die a hundred times over if it means getting him free of this place.

  “And which way do we go? The front is too secure.” I say.

  “It is. We’ll send the Hawks forward, and we’ll move to the rear. There will be fewer guards there. We have no choice but to traverse the wall.”

  “Drop down the other side?”

  He nods.

  It’s high. High enough to break a leg or neck if you land awkwardly. But then again, I suppose we have no other choice.

  “Let’s go then,” I say.

  My brother smiles for the first time, seeing the soldier develop in me.

  “Stay behind with Adryan. And take this.”