Mega 5: Murder Island

by Jake Bible

  “That’s anticlimactic,” Shane said as Grendel lay on their stomachs on the ridge overlooking the valley. “All that hiking then climbing just to see a single-wide trailer. I’m thinking the lab isn’t going to be too impressive.”

  “Subterranean levels,” Thorne said.

  “I know,” Shane replied. “I was just joking. I saw the same schematics.”

  “Then why do we have to have the constant idiot commentary?” Thorne snapped.

  Shane recoiled as if hit, but didn’t respond. Not even with a “Sorry, Uncle Vinny.”

  “Daddy, Shane was just—” Kinsey began.

  “I know what Shane was just,” Thorne interrupted. “And I’m tired of it. A member of our team is dead. Grow the fuck up.”

  The three shared looks and Thorne sighed.

  “Or don’t grow up,” Thorne said. “I knew it was too much to ask.”

  “Yeah, okay, nice conversation, but now what?” Shane asked, ignoring his uncle and looking at Darren. “Straight on or do we come in stealth?”

  “If someone is in there, and the building is anything like Ballantine’s other buildings, then there is going to be plenty of surveillance,” Darren said. He looked about the valley and rolled his eyes. “Which makes the position of the trailer perfect. No way to sneak up on it.”

  “Then we don’t,” Thorne said. “If we can’t, then there’s no reason to try.”

  “So, what, we just walk up and knock on the door?” Shane asked.

  “Yes,” Thorne replied and stood up.

  “Daddy, get down!” Kinsey barked.

  “No,” Thorne said and looked about the ridge until he found what looked like a trail. Thorne pointed at it. “Come on. I have a theory.”

  “Want to share it with us?” Darren asked as Thorne made his way down the ridge to the valley floor. “Vincent? Hello?”

  Thorne didn’t reply, just kept walking.

  “Uncle Vinny has left the building,” Shane said and stepped in line, following Thorne down the winding, twisting path.

  “You think he’s alright?” Darren asked Kinsey.

  “No,” Kinsey said. “He’s not a young man, ‘Ren. He’d retired before Ballantine made contact. I think all this craziness has finally caught up to him.”

  “That’s not good,” Darren said.

  “No,” Kinsey agreed then started down the trail with Darren right behind.

  ***

  Ballantine was sitting in the empty conference room, staring at the wall. No screens on, no files next to him, no maps anywhere. He sat alone and without stimuli. Even the blinds on the sliding glass doors that led out to the upper deck were pulled, making the room a gloomy sanctuary from the brightness of the tropical sun.

  “What aren’t you telling them?” Dana asked as she came into the conference room, shutting the door behind her. “You know more about this island than you are letting on.”

  “No,” Ballantine said. “I don’t know much of anything about this island. It was useful for a while, served its purpose, then I forgot all about it. Another X on a map and another file folder tucked into a filing cabinet in some dank basement. Move on to the next great idea. There’s always plenty of those.”

  “That’s true,” Dana said. “But so many of those ideas end up killing a lot of people.”

  “The risk of the life,” Ballantine said and shrugged.

  “But this wasn’t always our life,” Dana said. “We had a much different life before—”

  “Do not,” Ballantine snapped, a rare crack in his calm, cool, aloof facade. “Do not even think of saying those words.”

  “You have to face it sometime,” Dana said. “Look what’s happening to Darby? It’s like the universe wants you to face it. Maybe it’s time?”

  “It’ll never be time,” Ballantine said. “There isn’t enough time in the world for me to talk about this with you.”

  “Then talk about it with someone else,” Dana said. “Talk about it with Darby.”

  “And tell her what, Dana?” Ballantine asked. “What do I say? That we found her in a cage?” He laughed and shook his head. “A cage just like she’s in now. Talk about irony.”

  “I don’t believe that fits the definition of irony,” Dana said. “But yes, tell her about that. She wants to know who she is.”

  “Don’t we all,” Ballantine said. “Don’t we all. Self-discovery will always be part of the human condition.”

  “You know what I mean,” Dana said. “Stop playing word games and hiding behind your wit. You’re not as clever as you think.”

  “Yet I’m considerably more clever than anyone else thinks,” Ballantine said. “Is that irony?”

  “Close,” Dana said.

  “If I tell Darby the truth, then it will change everything,” Ballantine said and spread his arms wide. “Everything, Dana. We won’t be able to go on as we have. Or as I have. You were supposed to be dead. Care to tell me how you wiggled out of that?”

  “We all get our secrets,” Dana said. “That one is mine.”

  “Only the one?” Ballantine chuckled. “Not hardly.”

  “No, not hardly,” Dana said. “But it’s the most important. The knowledge of it keeps me going some days. I believe the knowledge of where we found Darby may help keep her going. Does it answer her question? No. But it gives her context.”

  Dana went to the sliding glass doors and opened the blinds. She pointed out at the open ocean that was beyond the harbor.

  “We’re all out to sea, but Darby is out farther than all of us,” Dana continued. “Throw her a lifeline and reel her in, Ballantine.”

  “Those were some fine nautical metaphors,” Ballantine said. “Very fine. Very convincing.”

  “So you’ll do it? You’ll go down and tell Darby what you know?” Dana asked.

  “No,” Ballantine answered.

  “You are such an ass,” Dana said and started to leave.

  “I meant no that I’m not the only one going,” Ballantine said. “You were there in the beginning too.” He steepled his fingers together. “In fact, one might argue that you are responsible for her current mental state. If one were to be keeping track of blame and all that. I wouldn’t, of course. I’m so far above that kind of thing.”

  “Can’t you just ask?” Dana said, exasperated. “Just ask me to come with instead of making it into some dramatic production.”

  “Melodramatic,” Ballantine said. “I like the theatrical approach.”

  “Shut up,” Dana said. “Are we doing this now?”

  “No time like the present,” Ballantine said and stood up.

  Dana turned to leave and he hit her squarely across the back of the head. Dana collapsed into an unconscious heap.

  “Sorry, my love,” Ballantine said as he picked her up under the armpits and dragged her to the wall. “I need just a little more time. The present won’t work with my schedule.”

  Ballantine pressed his hand against the wall and a large panel popped open. Inside was a metal chute. Ballantine quickly tossed Dana into it and her body was lost from sight instantly.

  “Fingers crossed the padding is still intact at the bottom,” Ballantine said to the empty room as he closed the hidden panel. “But, if not, you were supposed to be dead anyway.”

  ***

  Nothing happened on the approach to the building. Nothing happened when Thorne went up the steps and pounded on the door. Nothing happened when he turned the doorknob and tried to yank the door open. It was locked, but that was beside the point.

  The point was, no one tried to kill them, no one started shooting, no boobytraps went off, nothing happened.

  “Cut it,” Thorne ordered and stepped away from the door.

  Darren hurried up, took his pack off his back, and pulled out a handheld torch. He lit it, adjusted the flame until it was bright blue, then went to work on the part of the door directly around the knob. He cut a perfect square, then set the torch aside, fished out a hammer from his pack, and
gave the knob a hard whack.

  The knob fell inward, lost inside the building, and the door slowly creaked open towards Darren. He stood, put the hammer back, put the torch back, and slung his pack again.

  “Good work,” Thorne said. He unslung the black potato cannon-looking weapon from the Toyshop. He nudged the door all the way open and stuck the barrel of the weapon over the threshold, peering into the darkness. “Clear. I’ll take point on this.”

  “Yes, you will,” Shane said. “Since you are the only one with one of those.” He patted his own pack. “I get the jumpsuit from Hell.”

  “You want to put it on?” Kinsey asked. “Kind of useless in your pack.”

  “You only say that because you haven’t worn one,” Shane replied. “I have. Freaky, Sis, totally freaky.”

  “Still helps no one if it’s in your pack,” Darren said.

  “Put it on, Shane,” Thorne ordered. “We may need it.”

  “Oh, man, this sucks,” Shane said.

  He set his pack down, fished out the robin’s egg blue suit and helmet then got undressed.

  “This would be a shitty way to die,” Shane said. “Standing here in my underwear next to a single-wide trailer.”

  “And yet, I think no one would be surprised you went out that way,” Darren laughed.

  “I didn’t say they would,” Shane said as he wriggled into the suit. “Hand me the helmet.”

  Kinsey handed him the helmet and helped get it sealed.

  “Hey, cool, looks like Moshi added an external mic so I can hear what the hell is going on,” Shane said. “It’s patched right into my earpiece.”

  The suit shrank and molded to Shane’s body. Kinsey turned away, blushing.

  “Jesus, does it have to be so form-fitting?” she cried.

  “Hey, I dress to the left,” Shane said. “This has me to the right. That’s going to bug me.”

  “Shouldn’t Shane take point?” Kinsey asked, looking at her father, at Darren, at anything but her cousin. “That suit will protect him, right? He should be point.”

  “I’m taking point,” Thorne insisted. “No way I’m having his spandex ass staring back at me.”

  “So true,” Kinsey said. “Can he be behind all of us then?”

  “I vote for that,” Darren said.

  “You guys suck so many balls,” Shane said.

  “No, I want him behind me with you two taking up the rear,” Thorne said. “That way he can rush forward and save my ass, if needed.”

  “More ball sucking,” Shane replied and picked up his M4. “You know what? Screw it. I’ll take point. You all can suffer with the view. If I need saving, I’ll call you, Uncle Vinny, and you and your evil potato cannon can come to the rescue.”

  “Call me? I’ll be right here,” Thorne said. “How are you going to call me?”

  “It’s a joke,” Shane said. “Shut up.”

  “After you,” Thorne responded and nodded at the open door.

  Shane stepped over the threshold and froze.

  “Stinks,” Shane said. “Bad.”

  “We’re catching some of it out here,” Darren replied.

  Shane continued in, M4 up, his suit glowed bright enough blue that it cut through the darkness, giving the inside of the trailer a hazy watery look like at an aquarium. The rest followed close behind, each turning a different way as they stepped into the trailer, making sure every shadowed corner was covered and inspected.

  The inside of the trailer was empty. Completely empty. Not a single piece of furniture or even a reception counter. It was nothing but a windowless space with dusty, stainless steel walls.

  “That’s not good,” Shane whispered, nodding at the walls. “Stainless steel has one purpose and that’s easy clean up.”

  “It doesn’t rust,” Kinsey said. “It is a tropical island. Maybe Ballantine was worried about corrosion.”

  “These aren’t original,” Thorne said, placing a hand on a wall. He pressed and it bowed inward slightly, showing them there was a bit of space between it and the original wall. “These were put up after.”

  A fluorescent light set in the center of the trailer’s ceiling flickered to life.

  “Welcome,” a voice said, making everyone jump. “Please state your business.”

  All eyes turned to Thorne.

  He cleared his throat and said in his most convincing commander voice, “Facility inspection.”

  “Facility inspection denied,” the voice replied.

  It was obviously a simulated voice, one heard a thousand times in sci-fi movies and bad TV series. Obviously female, but cold and impersonal. There was no humanity in the voice.

  “Please state your business,” the voice ordered again.

  “Medical emergency,” Kinsey stated.

  “Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” the voice responded.

  “Neurological decay,” Kinsey said.

  A light as bright blue as Shane’s suit flashed then was gone, leaving swimming spots in everyone’s eyes except for Shane’s.

  “What was that?” Shane asked. “My helmet just filtered something out. What happened?”

  “I think we were scanned,” Darren said.

  “Scanned? What the fuck?” Shane said and looked back at Thorne. “It’s your call, Uncle Vinny, but I say we get back to the ship and have another chat with Ballantine. This was not in the program.”

  “Good idea,” Thorne said. “Grendel, fall back. The op is blown.”

  “No neurological decay detected in any subject,” the voice stated. “Medical emergency denied. Please wait for detainment protocol.”

  “Not good!” Shane yelled.

  Thorne didn’t have to give the order twice. They all sprinted for the door. Kinsey and Darren made it out first, followed by Thorne. But Shane was cut off before he could get to the threshold. A solid steel plate shot up from the floor, barely missing Shane by half an inch, and locked into place. The doorway was sealed from the inside.

  Shane began to pound on the steel plate, but it did no good.

  “Hey! Let me the fuck out of here!” Shane shouted.

  “Request denied,” the voice said. “Detainment protocol initiated. Calculating disposal scenarios.”

  The floor fell way and Shane fell with it.

  ***

  Standing outside in the hot sun, Thorne, Kinsey, and Darren stared at the trailer. The place where the open doorway had been was triple sealed by heavy steel plates.

  Kinsey had watched in horror as the first plate sealed Shane in. Two more plates, filling the doorway completely with steel, shot up and locked into place. She’d leapt at the plates, banging the butt of her carbine against them, but the blows didn’t even leave a dent.

  “Ballantine!” Thorne shouted into the com. “I know you’re listening! I want your ass off that ship and to my location now!”

  There was a hesitating crackle then, “You want me to join you on the island?”

  “Damn right I do!” Thorne replied. “We just walked into some sort of trap! You’ve got a computer security protocol in place on this trailer and it just locked Shane inside!”

  “Computer security protocol? I’m not aware of authorizing that,” Ballantine replied. “This should be a low-tech facility. Enough equipment for basic needs, but nothing sophisticated enough to warrant a computer security protocol. The only island I would have had a security protocol on would be… No.”

  “What was that?” Thorne asked. “No what?”

  Ballantine didn’t respond right away, but Thorne could hear him breathing as he thought.

  “Did you say trailer?” Ballantine asked.

  “I did,” Thorne said.

  “Like a trailer park trailer?” Ballantine asked.

  “Exactly like that,” Thorne replied. “It looks like a contractor’s trailer on a worksite.”

  “Can’t be,” Ballantine said. “The intel I gave you was that the building would be simple concrete block, just like the
building here in the harbor. It shouldn’t look like a trailer. Not if we’re where I think we are. No. Not a trailer… Shit…”

  Kinsey, Thorne, and Darren looked at each other, all with the same scared eyes. Even Thorne’s gruffness was gone as they heard the tone in Ballantine’s voice.

  “Ballantine?” Thorne called. “What’s wrong?”

  “Give me a second,” Ballantine barked. “I’m checking something. I need to get back to the conference room and the maps.”

  “Hurry your ass,” Thorne said. “My nephew is in this trailer and I’m not happy about it.”

  “Nor should you be, Vincent,” Ballantine said. “I’m going to be honest. I fear I have made a terrible mistake.”

  “I don’t doubt you have,” Thorne said. “Just tell me what that mistake is and I’ll fix it. It’s what you hired me to do.”

  “Very true,” Ballantine said. “But if it is the mistake I think, then I’m not sure even your skills can set this right.”

  “You better be joking,” Darren growled, joining the conversation. “Shane’s in there and we aren’t leaving until we get him out.”

  “Understood,” Ballantine said. He was huffing and puffing, obviously racing through the ship to get to the conference room. “Give me one minute.”

  “We don’t have one minute!” Thorne roared. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Ballantine didn’t respond, but the sound of papers being riffled through was clearly heard over the com.

  “Okay, okay, here we are,” Ballantine said. “I have the info I need…”

  “Ballantine!” Thorne yelled.

  “Hold on!” Ballantine snapped. “Here. Right here. We’re supposed to be right here. But if that trailer is what you say it is… Then, no, we aren’t right here. We’re… Right. Here. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

  Thorne growled low in his throat, a rumbling sound of pure rage.

  “You need to return to the ship now,” Ballantine said. “We have to rethink this entire situation.”

  “Why?” Darren asked, seeing that Thorne was too enraged to engage Ballantine any longer. “What’s changed?”