by Stevens, GJ
My ears felt stripped back. The drums exposed. The bullets blasting off every surface, men screaming and the high-pitched zing of metal against metal.
Soon the chaos receded and I saw no movement in my narrow angle, just the light haze of smoke and the spray of blood up the walls. Whatever had issued the screams, however many there were, they’d won the battle and from the light pad of feet, the victors did not wear heavy boots.
Still, I peered out as my ears relaxed and took in the view as wide-eyed as I could, whilst trying not to remember the hunger in my belly which had hidden by the terror of the wail.
Peering out, a face shot up at the window, blocking most of the light and sending me backwards as I struggled to keep my balance.
Dan screamed and the face at the window erupted with a noise so high I thought the reinforced glass would cave and pelt us with clear shrapnel. The whites of his eyes were deep red and sunken and locked on to Dan at my side, the skin on his forehead missing. Beside dark patches of blood, I saw the white of his skull.
He reared forward, but the glass stayed intact to leave only a dark, sticky film on the window each time he pulled away, only to smash his head again.
The air pressure changed; distant boots ran on the tiled floor. Shots leapt out and I stumbled further until my back was against the wall.
The face had gone and the cell lit again, but between the scrape of lead running down the walls and the bang of each gunshot, I could hear the wail losing volume.
I looked to Dan curled in a ball on the bed, but I couldn’t comfort him; the temptation brought tears as I fought the urge and the question burning my senses.
What had they done to me?
All was soon quiet again, the cell bright from the lights in the corridor. I closed my eyes, pushed my hand on my mouth, but still the scent licked at my nose, the sweet taste dancing on my tongue.
I took a step forward, a step closer to the bed. Perhaps it was for the best.
Dan lay ruined, gently sobbing in the foetal position.
Perhaps it was the right thing to do to put him out of his misery and do the deed I knew would fill the aching cavern inside me.
But what was the noise I could hear from the corridor?
It was a sound I’d heard before. The slight cry of a child, but it wasn’t from a kid.
The rupture of terror filled the air with a feral scream as my hands pushed again to my ears.
I barely noticed the second call soon adding to the chorus; barely noticed the third and the fourth.
My ears could take no more pain. One thought remained.
There was only one way this could get worse.
As if by command, the lights in the corridor went dark and with a snap, the locks released their heavy steel doors.
Our door relaxed open and the din magnified, searing through my brain.
8
With a collective breath, the pained echoes died away. My hands held out to the wall, hoping to keep upright. As my head rolled from side-to-side, movement in the corridor shifted.
I heard the change in mood as clear as if I’d watched from above.
Footsteps. Bare feet padding, stalking with a single aim; slow and cautious in the dark.
I turned to Dan, still on the bed. Listened to his desperate low whimper. Listened to the thoughtless steps outside, each in time with his low, self-destructive cry.
I moved, keeping my feet slow. Outside theirs were quickening and I pulled Dan reluctantly to his feet. His eyes were so wide, his weight nearly empty as I pushed him against the wall.
I could almost see the shadows in the gap as I leant against him with my back, a foreign instinct holding my arms out wide to shield him from their arrival.
But they didn’t come. All I saw was a shadow pass the door. A figure bent low. There and gone in a flash, right before a confusion of scents caught me from the corridor.
Gunfire burst out, tiny flashes lighting the corridor for an instant. Each peppered with a riot of movement.
Screams ripped again through the loud bangs. Dan grabbed around my waist, holding me tight as he sobbed.
The chaos was soon out of the corridor. Soon beyond the far door, echoing further away, leaving just the two of us behind.
I hoped.
The lights in the corridor flickered on and I jumped out of Dan’s grasp. A breath unbidden pulled into my lungs. Dan’s smell wafted all around and I turned, wide-eyed, a painful emptiness raking at my insides.
Dan looked up and I closed my mouth. He stood watching my silhouette as I backed up to the doorway. I wondered if he could tell I was weighing up if I should take this last chance to kill the pain. To take his life. To fight against these new feelings and not take the step I knew I could never come back from.
I welcomed the scream echoing in the distance, forcing my attention to the call rushing down through the corridor. I turned, placing my hand on the cold of the metal door and peered through the gap.
I stared at the floor strewn with bodies, my gaze roving the blood soaking into almost every space; the white of the floor only visible through the smeared foot marks. The rush of boot prints scattering shattered tile with plaster from the walls, lead and flesh crowding its surface.
I counted seven bodies, four of them soldiers, but could only tell by their thick body armour, doubting their mothers could recognise what remained of their faces. The other three I didn’t have enough words to describe, but knew they were like the man, the Bodmin Body-snatcher, who’d smashed his head against my door. Now he lay at my feet, a dark ooze of clots filling where his eyes had been.
Stepping out, blood sucked around the sole of my foot. Warm to touch, it felt like stepping into a lukewarm bath, sending tingles of pleasure along the inside of my thighs.
I peered along the corridor and saw the door at the end ajar. Light burned bright the other side and I pulled my foot from the cell, breathing slow and considered as the blood wrapped around my heel.
A gentle waft of air passed my nose and I turned, following the scent and beckoned for Dan to follow. I didn’t wait for him to move.
As I passed each door, I peered in to find every cell empty, the former inmate either dead or a player in the melee echoing in the distance.
The lights outside were brighter this time, the place lit up like a football pitch with no corners in shadow. The gate in the fence hung to the side and I ran before someone could play their awful trick again.
I knew Dan followed, even though I didn’t turn to look. Beyond the gate was another doorway, lit from behind. The body of a soldier lay across the threshold, his gun still cradled in his arm, both limb and weapon out of his reach.
The next corridor was much the same, but with the bodies of two of the former inmates mown down, side-by-side halfway along, each riddled with wide gaping holes strafing their bodies. At least half of their heads were missing.
The doors in this corridor were glass, had been at least, but none remained; each shattered into cubes blown across the floor of the examination rooms, laboratories and store cupboards.
I continued to add my red footsteps to the jumble of prints whilst gasps from Dan confirmed he was close. By now the screams had lessened, the gunfire more sporadic and way off into the distance. Cold chilled my bones and I knew this chance would end soon, my time to form a plan shortening with every moment.
I ran.
Precious seconds had passed since the last gunshot, since the echo of the demonic scream, since any sound could have hidden the loud crack as I kicked the locker room door, sending a throb of pain up through my toes.
To my surprise, the metal caved in, but stole my breath as I marvelled at the inhuman feat.
Beckoning Dan into the room, I pushed the door closed. Paying him no further attention as I busied myself, barehanded, I pulled open each of the small metal doors, the locks snapping with my effort.
Glancing at Dan, I wasn’t sure if he was gawking at my feat of strength or my naked curves as
I dressed in someone else’s clothes. I soon lost the thread of thought, caught between adding to the list of questions, asking myself what this could all mean whilst trying to stop myself freaking out when I couldn’t stop fantasising about how his flesh would taste.
I’d heard the steps long before the door swung wide, but still we cowered in each corner at the sight.
The burst of flavour almost leapt me to my feet, despite the red dot on Dan’s forehead and the scream of the voice to get face down on the ground.
9
I expected a bullet as he barked orders for us to get to our feet. I knew he would shoot as his gaze locked with what I feared would be my new mutated features.
I expected a bullet, but he gave himself no chance to recognise someone else’s ill-fitting clothes underneath the lab coat.
I expected a bullet as footsteps built to a roar in the corridor, heavy boots sending cubes of glass scattering in all directions.
I expected a bullet as he herded us through the doorway, turning right as he led the way.
I expected to be shot, falling to the ground as I forced my hand across my mouth, trying to lock out the dreamy wake of flesh left by those who had once raced in our direction.
I expected a bullet after each instruction, each left turn, each wait.
I expected a bullet as he spoke to someone else, a voice on the radio as we arrived at a braced metal door twice as wide and half as tall as those barring the cells.
I expected gunfire from within as the door slid.
I expected the beast of a black soldier on the other side to swing his gun down from his shoulder, to smash the butt across my face and send me spiralling to the ground.
I hadn’t expected him to look surprised, his eyebrows twitching and mouth curling to a smile. I hadn’t expected that recognition I’d grown so used to; those words no one could hold back.
“Are you…?” he said, stepping aside to let us in the room.
I walked past, not able to talk, fearing the deep breath I couldn’t hold. It came with a surprise; a lungful of smoke, a great blanket blocking out everything else.
My nostrils filled, the buds on my tongue clogged. I took in more of the thick air, twisting to see all around.
My vision no longer blurred with the need to fill my urge.
I saw people. I saw the small, under-lit room, an old incandescent lamp hanging bare from the ceiling.
We were in a kind of strong room, dining chairs set around the edge, each alternating its space with white plastic crates stacked to the low ceiling.
I saw pairs of eyes on me. A small collection. Four young women huddled in lab coats in the dark room and a man sat on the floor in the corner, a laptop on his lap and a cigarette dangling from his lip.
Surprised, I felt no desire to tear their flesh. I wanted to know who they were. I wanted to get their story. I was me again.
A rush of hope warmed my insides as the soldier ushered us to seats in the corner. Dan joined me to sit meek at my side, with his head in his hands as I watched the soldier who’d found us walk away with his huge colleague pushing the door closed at his back.
Guilt pushed the hope away as I searched the room again in case I’d somehow missed Mike sitting in the corner.
The soldier came over and I smiled, forcing my public face to the surface whilst trying to hide my surprise that I could hear his words.
“Are you the woman off the tele?” he said, his accent thick with West Midlands rhythm.
I shook my head whilst hiding my pleasure that my face had not turned hideous.
“I’ve just started,” I replied. “A week ago. Graduate programme.”
He smiled, showing teeth as white as snow. I didn’t think he believed me, but I lived a few moments more to tell the tale.
“What’s going on?”
I couldn’t help saying the words and watched as, despite my low voice, two pairs of eyes glanced in my direction.
He shook his head, turning to the rest of the group as if for show, shrugging his shoulders in an overactive move to add to his point. The cigarette smoke thinned and I watched the wisps of blue air glide up into the ceiling vents.
Dan’s smell came first as he leant over, still with his head in his hands. Panic rose as new tastes soon followed. The hope had vanished as I sampled the air, thick and meaty. The soldier’s scent, I guessed.
The group of women were delicate and perfumed. I hadn’t quite got the older man’s scent until I stood next to him. Pale and gamey, like mutton.
“Have you got another?” I said, nodding towards the rectangular package on the floor. He smiled up, showing yellow teeth, his flesh strong as he breathed in my direction. I’m sure I would have found out his taste if he hadn’t flipped up the lid of the box next to him to reveal long cartons of white-boxed cigarettes.
The first draw was bliss, the taste empty, saliva retreating down my throat as my vision cleared.
The women in the huddle coughed as I passed. If they’d kept that up, I might have shown the alternative.
A cold wave of fear rushed across my face and it felt as if the blood had drained to my feet when I realised what I had just thought.
I took a long draw of the cigarette, holding my breath to make sure it filled every part of my lungs. Letting the smoke slowly escape, I pushed on a smile to the women, thankful the need to tear their eyes out had passed.
Dan had grown quiet, but flinched up, his red-ringed eyes wide with the dull knock rattling the heavy door.
Words boomed from someone new after our guard pulled up the bolt and swung open the metal with his pull.
“Five unaccounted for.”
It wasn’t the soldier who had escorted us but another. I wanted to say rescued us, but that wasn’t right. A Scouse accent hung heavy in his voice.
The right words tried to form in my head as I savoured my blank taste buds and listened to the drivel. “I had to bring her here. Watch her. She’s trouble, the brig’s overrun.”
I looked up hearing those words and knew before I saw her face in the orange light. I knew it would be her stepping through the gap.
I hadn’t guessed about the hands cuffed at her front. Hadn’t guessed at the side of her face black and blue. I hadn’t thought I’d see her swearing under her breath, the muscles in her neck tense and face fixed with anger as she kept her head low.
I stubbed the unfinished cigarette under my foot and flushed with panic as my smile dropped.
10
She wore a bright orange jump-suit, three or more sizes too large, the kind lifers wore in American jails. Her feet shuffled across the floor, restricted by manacles clipped at her ankles. What could she have done to prompt such fear of escape?
A great black hand reached my way as I stepped forward, but with all eyes on me I let myself cower back, watching her downward face as her escort led her to the opposite side of the room.
Thankful the huddled women gave her their attention, fixing their sneers in her direction, I turned my back to the four women to make sure our eyes didn’t meet as I half listened to the soldier’s chat, catching only some of their words as a bunch of keys changed hands.
Soon the new soldier left our guard to his task of pushing the metal bundle into a pouch on his utility belt.
Still, she hadn’t looked up. I wasn’t ready for her to see me.
Lighting another cigarette, I pushed away my returning senses, smothering the sweet honeyed scent I could almost see drawing out from her like an aura. Remembering my determination as we’d driven here, reminding myself I needed to do this on my terms.
Staring at the top of her bowed head and as the door sealed closed, I spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.
“What’s going on?”
Toni looked up, my plan a success. The anger fell from her features, her eyes fixing wide in my direction but her left not as much as her right. Her chest heaved as she struggled with pain from the sharp intake of breath.
She couldn’t
have looked more surprised to see me if I’d been dead for ten years. I could feel my determination crumble.
I turned away after lingering just enough. The soldier stood at the door with a wide smile shining back, his voice booming when he spoke.
“It’s under control, but we’ll be moving as soon as they clear the compound.”
“Moving where?” said one of the women who’d broken from the pack, a chorus of repeats at her shoulders, but I didn’t dare move to look.
“I don’t know. All they've said is we’re going mobile. You have work to do,” he said, and letting his rifle relax on the straps, he held his hands in the air. “That’s all I know.” He turned toward me, raising his brow to test my satisfaction.
I gave a shallow nod and waited until he turned away before I let my view radiate in Toni’s direction.
Staring right at me, I saw the pain clear in her hanging features as her view moved from the stick between my fingers with tears rolling down her cheeks. But they were tears of joy. Tears of elation, plain to see from her wide grin and the affection pouring my way.
I’d already done all I needed to do. I knew my only choice. Sit and wait this out. I had to keep smoking to stop myself from going crazy.
Pushing away the air thick with mouth-watering smells, I stared at Toni while fighting my growing anger at the damage to her face, whilst trying not to imagine what they’d put her through.
Her phone call made more sense now, although the words were fading. She must have found out the terrible truth. She must have discovered they were testing on humans; were testing medicine for a new disease I hadn’t even heard of.
They’d silenced her. Shackled and chained. But why hadn’t they killed her? A shudder ran down my spine at the thought.
Shaking off the growing tension, I let myself fantasise as another option came to mind. Stub out the cigarette and burn no other. Let the smorgasbord of flavour engulf me.
I didn’t kid myself about what would happen next.
