Freedom Incorporated

by Peter Tylee

  Dan snarled his reply, “Then you shouldn’t fear death. You won’t have to explain to a deity how you’re such a good person when you did something so evil to my wife.”

  The black hatred penetrating Dan’s gaze and the tiny tremble in his hands were the first clues Adrian recognised. His foolish notion that he wasn’t in danger back-flipped and he faced the prospect that Dan might actually shoot him.

  It changed everything.

  He quivered in his chair and felt overwhelmed by regret for his crimes, though not due to any perceptible compassion for his victims or remorse for his actions. He was sorry his actions had landed him in trouble. “Please… don’t.”

  “Is that what my wife said before you glued her eyes shut? Is that what she was saying when you raped her?”

  The tension quickly eroded any sense of decorum that Adrian’s upbringing had instilled in him and he started to sob. Tears leaked from his red-rimmed eyes and a river of snot oozed from his hairy cavernous nostrils. “Please don’t kill me.”

  Dan watched him cowering down the barrel of his gun, weighing his own emotions. If he’d held any faith in the justice system, circumstances wouldn’t have forced him to make this decision. But he knew the system was corrupt. So…

  What to do?

  *

  Saturday, September 18, 2066

  17:34Baltimore, USA

  Jen’s headache was only getting worse and an abdominal cramp had begun singing a solo in the general chorus of pain rippling through her body. Two doses of Esteban’s ‘party juice’ – as the other women called it – and she had tremors. She wished a pharmacologist would explain to her what sort of nightmare she should expect. It’s not going to be pretty…She gritted her teeth through the next wave of gut wrenching and pounded clenched fists against her thighs for distraction. It felt like a hot knife was slicing through her innards. She couldn’t remember ever experiencing more agony and was pleading for unconsciousness. Devils with pitchforks were dancing at the edge of her vision, snickering in delight at her torment.

  Then the wave passed and she felt euphoric from lack of pain. But, with sinking heart, she knew it would begin again in quarter of an hour. That’d been the recent pattern and the spasms were growing worse. Her mouth felt parched despite the water she’d guzzled, and the nausea had returned.

  Jen was unsure which was worse, the nightmares in her sleep or the nightmare reality had become.

  She checked her watch. He’s not coming.It was something else to add to her growing list of reasons for being depressed. It was just a cruel psychological game,she realised, scolding herself for falling for their tricks. Why did I believe him?It seemed silly in hindsight. What possible reason could he have for helping me?She drew a blank. All that shit about his past…It made her angry.I can’t believe I was so trusting, so naïve!Given the opportunity, she’d wind the clock back and do her best to slaughter him and escape using his microchip. Now things looked impossible. Her muddled mind made thinking hard. When the tremors began again, she wouldn’t even be able to hold an icepick. Even between waves her hands were unsteady; she held them tightly in her lap to deny the proof of her addiction. And her blood disorder threw another variable into the mixture. Her stress hormones were far above safe levels and had been for several days. Every additional day of stress added to the probability that she wouldn’t live to see the sky again. Or the ocean.

  She retreated into her mind where she felt safe. They couldn’t touch her there.

  But a furore outside distracted her from the light meditation. She hadn’t heard any commotion since her arrival and it seemed out of character for the Guild so she stood and wobbled to the door.

  The disturbance came from the far end of the compound, about 50 metres from Jen’s room. A man was shouting and a woman shrieked. Then the man yelled at the woman to shut up and Jen heard the slap that landed her on the floor. Jen’s face smarted in sympathy as she staggered down the hall. It had to be something important to gather everyone’s attention. A fire?It was the first explanation her foggy mind offered. What will happen to the captives? Will we burn alive?There were no sprinklers on the barren ceiling, only recessed down-lights. I guess we turn to charcoal…

  But it wasn’t a fire.

  A small crowd had gathered around the portals and people were jostling to gawk at something. Jen’s curiosity kept her inching along and she craned her neck to snatch a glimpse for herself.

  What she saw chilled her blood.

  It was Adrian.

  Or what was left of him.

  The air buzzed with excitement and the onlookers’ expressions ranged from revulsion to horror and alarm. He was naked from the waist up and a message had been carved into his torso. Two words: “You’re next.”

  His eyes were still open and they stared vacantly ahead. Trails of salt were flaking on his cheeks where tears had dried, and his mouth gaped, as if the corpse wanted to speak one final word but couldn’t draw breath to make it happen. He’d died from three gunshot wounds to the head. The entry holes made a neat triangle just to the right of centre. Blood had splattered over Adrian’s face and trousers. One rivulet had made the epic journey down his chin and dripped onto his abdomen, forming a lake in his bellybutton.

  Jen first concluded that Esteban had discovered Adrian’s betrayal. The carnage was precisely what she’d expect of a lunatic like Esteban. It’s a message for me… I’m next.But the longer she gazed into Adrian’s vacant eyes, the closer she came to revealing the truth. It was within her the whole time, just waiting for discovery. It wasn’t Esteban.Realisation sickened her more than the ghastly sight of Adrian’s corpse. Her legs gave way and another wave of pain exploded in her gut as she sat convulsing on the floor. Throughout the tremors, she wrestled with demons that shouted something she didn’t want to hear: Dan killed him.

  *

  Junior wiped his nose and furiously rubbed the stubble on his chin until his skin was so sensitive the touch become unpleasant. This wasn’t supposed to happen.During times of high stress he needed to keep his hands occupied – every few minutes ran them through his curly mat of strawberry hair. “Get back would you!” He took a menacing pace toward the gathering crowd and they began to scatter.

  “Do you know what this is about?” asked Terrance Leichhardt, one of the older members who lingered despite Junior’s demand. He was in his late fifties and hefted significant political weight in the Guild’s inner sanctum.

  Junior shook his head and lied, “No sir.” It was imperative that he show due respect to high-ranking members. “I don’t even know where he went.” At least that part was true, Adrian had just up and vanished.

  “Take care of the mess, will you?” Terrance said in a dry, smoker’s voice. He’d curled his words as if asking a question, but from a man like Terrance Leichhardt a question was really a command, which carried severe penalties if Junior didn’t follow it to the letter.

  “Yes sir.” Junior nodded meekly, running another hand through his hair.

  Terrance turned and strolled back to the Imperial Lounge where Junior couldn’t follow, his patent leather shoes squeaking as he went. He was keen to resume a fascinating debate on evolution and hoped the incident with the dead member hadn’t irrevocably disrupted it.

  Now what?Junior looked again at his friend’s naked torso and the message somebody had carved into it with a knife. The pinkish flesh was beginning to turn blue. Or is that my imagination?He didn’t want to touch it. He’d touched a dead body before and the experience had given him the creeps. The cadaver’s cold, livid flesh against his warm fingers had made him want to scream. But, gathering his resolve, Junior approached the corpse and gently closed Adrian’s eyes. He could stand the vacant stare even less.

  It was Dan.He had no doubt about that. And he obviously knows where we are.He wondered how many hours he’d tortured Adrian for information. Junior blanched, unable to admit he would’ve capitulated immediately. An egoist, Junior would never deliberately suffer
on anybody else’s account.

  Adrian’s body was kneeling upright, propped there by wooden slats that’d once been part of a chair. Junior pushed the body forward and it landed on its face with a thud.

  There was no sign that Sutherland had removed Adrian’s microchip. Of course! How else would he make it through the portal?Junior leered at Dan’s error. He blew it. How stupid.Still, it was unsettling to have a close associate murdered by someone intent upon slaying him too.

  He didn’t want to roam outside for long. Not with Dan on the prowl.So he found a thick sheet of plastic and wrapped it around Junior’s corpse. Next, he dragged it to cold storage and unceremoniously dumped it in the corner, next to crates filled with microwaveable dinners. I’ll get rid of it once this is all over.

  Which raised another question: Where the fuck was Esteban during all this? Isn’t he supposed to protect us? Shouldn’t we stick together? He knew it didn’t make sense to huddle in the Guild forever, that way it’d never be over. Esteban was doing the noble thing by using himself as bait. So why did Adrian leave? And where’d he go?

  He cast Adrian’s corpse a final disgusted look before flipping out his phone and pressing the speed dial for Esteban. No answer. He tried again. Same result. Damn you.He trotted to the portals, hesitating before stepping inside. Maybe I shouldn’t…He had a good idea where Esteban would be. And I won’t be long.So in the end his self-confidence overshadowed his mountain of qualms and he dialled the code, vanishing from the Guild’s portal chamber.

  *

  Jen stumbled back to bed between tremors and lay quivering under the sheets, twisting and contorting when flashes of pain needled her body. She couldn’t remember ever being more miserable. She lay there wondering how her life had become so horrendous. A week ago she’d been happy, working on the biggest hack she’d ever dared to hope for. And now?

  How could you?It seemed so barbaric. How can you write a message on someone’s chest with a knife?It dawned on her that she didn’t really know Dan at all, or know of what he was capable. She shivered as she recalled her invitation for him to accompany her in her new life, beyond the grasp of corporate bulldozers.

  She wondered whether she’d be able to look Dan in the eyes again. If I ever get the chance.She tried to imagine looking at him without the chest-carving memory floating like unwelcome refuse to the surface of her mind. What pained her most was that she believed Adrian had intended to help. He’d carried her hopes. And now that he was dead, she was back to square one.

  She wasn’t convinced Dan would be her knight in shining armour. He was too busy inflicting his pent-up rage on the people who’d murdered his wife and wasn’t taking enough notice of what was happening now. If he were, he wouldn’t have killed Adrian.Still, she reluctantly had to admit Adrian had done heinous things. So maybe that justifies…

  Jen’s body convulsed and she retreated from her physical misery, preferring the despair in her mind. In a way, it was Dan’s trial. The outcome would determine her reaction to him if they ever again met.

  *

  Esteban was aiming his pistol at mock targets when the knock came. Again?He doubted Dan would forecast his entry but didn’t want to take unnecessary risks. He quietly eased out of his chair and stood next to the door, ready to ambush anybody that came through.

  “Esteban?” It was Junior’s voice.

  Esteban’s shoulders slumped. “What?” He carefully pulled the door open, ready to shoot whoever was on the other side if it proved to be a trick. Junior rushed into the room, wide-eyed and spooked. He looked like a wild horse before a thunderstorm.

  “It’s Adrian, he’s-” was all he could squeeze out before Michele interrupted them.

  “Esteban?” Her voice was nasal and irritating, made infinitely worse because Esteban knew she’d never say anything intelligent.

  “God, this place is a fucking zoo. What the hell do you want?”

  She didn’t often come to his office; he usually went down to hers. That way he didn’t have to clean the milky sex-mess from his desk, but his ulterior motive hadn’t dawned on her yet. “I wanted-”

  “Close the fucking door, would you?” Esteban snapped, cutting her off. He didn’t want Dan to surprise him when he had unwelcome guests.

  She pulled the door shut. “Jackie’s been trying to find you, how come you’re not answering your phone?”

  That’s a good question,Junior thought. It would’ve saved me the trouble of coming out here.

  Esteban rolled his eyes. “Because I’m busy doing my job you brainless bimbo. I expect Sutherland will turn up any minute.”

  “He already has,” Junior said with a sour expression.

  “What?” Esteban turned to face him, wearing a harrowed mask of disbelief.

  “That’s what I came to tell you – he fucked Adrian up real good.” Junior wasn’t one to sugarcoat words.

  “Adrian? That’s impossible… he was only just here.”

  “Well he left the Guild hours ago and turned up dead.” Junior was trying unsuccessfully to gouge a grain of dirt from under his fingernail, unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze.

  “The dumb fuck said he’d go straight back,” Esteban said, frowning deep in disbelief. “So Sutherland must’ve snatched him from thisbuilding.” It was a perturbing thought.

  “Well he was naked from the waist up and had a message carved into his-”

  “Carved?” Michele’s horrified expression betrayed precisely what she thought of that.

  Junior nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty fucking grisly. He carved the words ‘you’re next’ into his chest.”

  “Post mortem?” Esteban hoped. He wasn’t that sadistic.

  “I think so. He had three holes in his head so Sutherland probably blew his brains out first.” Junior spread his grimy hands. “I was told to take care of the mess so I shoved him in cold storage.”

  That’s disgusting.Michele felt a panic swelling within. “We’re next. He’s going to kill us all.”

  Esteban shook his head. “No he’s not. He has another thing coming if he thinks he can take me.”

  “Don’t you understand?” Michele gasped. “Haven’t you read his file?”

  “What file?” Junior asked, having no idea what she was talking about.

  “Dan has a very colourful history,” Michele shrieked in a higher pitch than usual. “It reads just like a Craig Murphy novel.”

  In 2048, a few months after his eighteenth birthday, Dan joined the Australian Defence Force. He spent six months in the army’s gruelling training program before accepting his first assignment in the Sixth Border Defence Division. But he didn’t stay there long. Due largely to his high intelligence and physical aptitude, his commanding officer sought to reassign him somewhere that wouldn’t waste his talents. In 2049 he went back into training, this time to refine his skills to work with FIRE, the highly specialist division responsible for 89 Australian-led black-ops between 2049 and 2053. Dan had personally been involved in 61 of those operations, and had commanded 12 of them himself. The year 2053 also saw Dan receive his final promotion and he went to work for the Australian Republic’s blossoming shadow-intelligence division. But, three years later, the funding dried up. The Australian government, led by Xantex at the time, hadn’t deemed anyone fit for reassignment and the cabinet had retrenched all shadow-intelligence officers. But Dan had departed with a glowing recommendation that the New South Wales Police Department simply couldn’t ignore and he’d commenced his service in law enforcement.

  Esteban nodded. “I’ve read it. So what? I’m not worried. Now go back to your room.” Then he turned from Michele to stab Junior with an impatient look. “And you go back to the Guild, and for Christ’s sake stay there!”

  “Whatever you say.” Junior just hoped it would all be over before work on Monday. The last thing he needed was another sick day on his record.

  But Michele wasn’t so easily placated. She snarled with fear. “You don’t understand! He’s going to kill us
all. We’re all dead! Oh my God, I should’ve run when he told-”

  Esteban slapped her across the cheek, hard enough to whiplash her neck and raise a red welt on her skin. She reeled to her knees and Esteban derived cruel pleasure from seeing her there. Maybe if I keep going I’ll eventually slap some sense into her.He could make it into a science experiment, one that was truly worthy of his time and devotion. With a smirk, he vowed to bear it in mind for the next day of knuckle-biting boredom. Something to contribute to the scientific community: can beating the shit out of a retard knock some brains into them?

  Michele got silently to her feet, too scared to voice her fears.

  “Get out of here, both of you. Sutherland could be here any moment.” I know he’s coming…In truth, Adrian’s demise amused him. It proved Dan was a worthy adversary. But I’m better.And he was looking forward to proving that.

  Michele nursed her stinging cheek and scuttled from the room. Junior followed a few paces later, finally leaving Esteban in peace. He sat in his chair and resumed playing with his handgun. Come on Sutherland, show your face… be the next person to knock on my door.He’d already carefully considered the potential access points to his office. There were two and he had them both covered. No matter where Dan showed up, Esteban would have the perfect opportunity to riddle his skull with bullets. And then his colourful, Craig-Murphy-novel past won’t matter a damn.