All or Nothing

by Stuart Keane

  He also made himself a promise to burn down the actual house it had been copied from, too.

  Creating this illusion of Rupert’s home had been a work of genius, he thought. He had copied the dome idea from The Truman Show. He looked up at the black dome itself. In reality it was only forty feet above their heads. It stretched out and covered the entire property. He’d set up a little terror experiment that was all covered by a black dome. It had taken him seventeen minutes to purchase an abandoned industrial park in which to build his masterpiece. It was certainly doing the job he’d planned for it now.

  John had to be aware that he was live to The Game now. Anything he did, said and executed would be seen by thousands of customers, who were paying a fortune for the privilege. “Fan out, boys, be careful. This doesn’t look tidy.”

  The men moved forward while John stayed back, unsure of how to proceed. For the first time, he was concerned about his part in The Game. Taking part via viewing everything on a monitor was one thing, being in The Game itself was something else altogether, and it could be dangerous.

  Where the hell are you, Rupert?

  THIRTY-TWO

  “So, Abel, why are you here? You came here with your brother, right?”

  Moments ago, Heather, Kieran and Abel had passed through the loading bay doors. On the other side was a winding vehicle path, which was still indoors, the surroundings painted black as before. The room was high enough and wide enough for a multitude of vehicles to drive to the loading doors unhindered. Each light on the walls was untouched, lighting the path as normal. There were no boxes or vehicles present, just a winding tarmac road.

  To the right of their entrance was a small security booth. It was plain white, the glass was clean and its door stood open. Kieran imagined a lonely security guard whiling away his hours in the booth, expecting to receive maybe two or three deliveries a night, passing the time with a book or an iPod or a porno magazine. A lonely job. The booth housed a chair, a table and a TV. A radio charging hub sat next to the TV. The booth was empty.

  Shit! thought Kieran.

  Just as well, he reasoned, there’s no point advertising our presence – assuming that anyone is alive in this place.

  Kieran stepped away from the booth, while Heather was taking a bottle of water from her rucksack. She handed it to Abel, who took it gratefully and drank. She looked towards Kieran, and he walked over to her. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  Heather nodded. “Everything is fine. I just wondered, well, do you think the drugs have any side effects? Abel seems extremely thirsty. From what I can see, he’s not behaving oddly in any other way so far. But what if there are other symptoms? Dangerous symptoms?”

  “Not much we can do about that,” Kieran muttered grimly. “We need to continue forward and cross that bridge when we come to it. We are armed so we can—” Kieran ushered Heather away from Abel, so they were out of earshot. “—take him out if need be.”

  “You wouldn’t?” Heather was aghast.

  “We may not have a choice. If it becomes necessary and we are in danger because of Abel, I’ll have to do something about it. I’m perfectly happy for Abel to stay with us, but if he becomes a danger, well, I might not have a choice.”

  Heather lowered her head, resigned to Kieran’s decision; she knew he was right. Having an unstable man in their group would be suicide for all concerned. “Yes, I realise that.”

  There was a long silence. Abel turned around, searching for his allies. Heather noticed and walked over. “We’re over here, Abel.”

  Abel smiled, saying nothing. Heather patted him on the shoulder.

  Kieran came up behind them both. “So, Abel, why are you here? You came here with your brother, right?”

  The blind man nodded. “Yes, we came here looking for work. You see, my brother and I are scientists. We were head-hunted for our work in the genetics field. We were part of the team that first successfully cloned a sheep. Top secret stuff until it makes the news. Anyway, we were asked to work on a secret project. The sheep we cloned was a team effort, which we learned from, but this project would be our own. All the glory would come to us. Our names in lights. We came down here for interviews and tests several weeks ago. We were invited back for a final exam and, well, that was today, or maybe it was yesterday. And here I am.”

  “Do you know the name of the company?” Kieran asked.

  Abel shook his head. “No, it didn’t have a name. We were told it was just referred to as The Company. You know, like an actual name. But I don’t think that was its real name. We weren’t told any more than that. In fact, we were sworn to secrecy about anything we were likely to see. Not that any of that matters now. We hardly saw anything anyway before they started using us as human pin cushions.”

  Heather cringed at the thought. “Why do you think they cut your eyes out?”

  “It was a test,” Abel went on. “They wanted to prove that the drugs worked. My brother, older and protective as he was, asked to be the guinea pig, but they chose me. I suppose they wanted to demonstrate how pain is dulled and emotion voided. My brother cried. Which, I suppose, means it didn’t work on him. They then injected him with two more vials of the green stuff. Yes, the drugs are coloured green. I heard the cries and the noise as he struggled. They used a kitchen knife to remove my eyes. But, like I said, I didn’t feel a thing. So the drug must have worked in some ways. All I remember then is noise and chaos. My shackles were released and I ran away from the noise as fast as I could.”

  Kieran bit his lip. “So the drugs. What’s their purpose? They must be pretty strong if you couldn’t feel a thing when they did that to you.”

  Abel nodded, contemplating his response. “The only information they provided is that the drugs are pumped into the clones to render them immune to pain. There are different kinds of this particular drug. Some last for mere minutes. Some last for hours. They are trying to create one that works as a ‘blocker’, something that totally removes pain from the body. If they pull that off, well, who knows how and where it could be used?”

  Kieran gasped in disbelief. “A pain blocker? They want to remove pain from the body altogether?”

  Abel nodded. “They feel that if they can do that, it opens another revenue for them. It’s still in the experimental stages so nothing has been confirmed yet. That’s the one that they injected me with.”

  “Why did they inject you with it?” Heather asked. “You said they use it on the clones?”

  Abel coughed. “I think Kieran touched on it earlier. Turning actual humans into unfeeling soldiers is high on their agenda. Preferably using subjects who have intelligence. Which makes sense if you think about it. They aren’t a business that has to cut corners…” Abel didn’t finish the sentence. Heather and Kieran waited in silence for him to continue, and Heather felt Abel’s hand grip her arm. “I hope my brother is all right. It was my fault we were here—”

  “—You can’t blame yourself, Abel,” Heather interrupted him. “You weren’t to know they were going to do this. It seems as if they’re signing up brilliant scientists in order to construct the best clones possible. You were duped into this, and I can assure you that other people must have been too.”

  Abel smiled. “Thanks. I suppose you are correct. You know, I haven’t seen one of these clones you mentioned. Are they hideous?”

  “Not really, they look the same as you and me,” said Kieran. “Only paler and balder. And eerily enough, it doesn’t seem as if they can talk. Soldiers who can’t talk back or voice an opinion. The ultimate weapon.”

  “Do you think they are actually soldiers?” Abel posed the question.

  Heather and Kieran looked at one another in silence; it was a good point.

  “Of course we don’t know for sure. But making clones for the armed forces makes sense,” Abel continued. “Fewer casualties, better trust from the families of the military. It’s a win-win situation for all concerned. If what we’re considering is true, this would pos
sibly be the best war deterrent since the nuclear bomb.”

  “Besides, it’s the one place they can make the most money,” Kieran interjected. “I suppose they could use them for the police and fire brigade too. But you hear stories like this all the time. If such a thing did happen to be true, it might not be that much of a surprise.”

  They set off walking, and soon came to a bend in the road. The hallway forked off into two separate directions. The right fork ended just beyond the turn: a heavy metal door blocked the way, with a pass code entry machine on the wall beside it. The other fork led them through an archway, which was covered with plastic strips that hung down loosely. Beyond it was a brightly lit room, the dangling plastic strips blurring the view beyond. Kieran unclipped his pistol holster. He didn’t like this.

  Heather sighed. “Where to, then? I suppose the key code door is out of the question?”

  Kieran said nothing. Once again, they were being forced to go in one direction. Kieran was getting a little sick of it. He turned to face Heather and Abel. “I assume the key code door is the way out. Without that key code we’re stuck in here. I don’t want to try tapping in any old numbers, who knows what might happen. We have to go left.”

  There was a long silence, during which Kieran regarded Abel. The blind man was just standing there, listening intently. Heather picked up on Kieran’s furious expression, first looking at Abel, then back at Kieran. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I don’t like this,” Kieran said grimly. “We have come a long way today. First through a hallway of bodies, then we found a locked loading bay door that had to be opened by a panel. Then this, this fucking plastic-covered door. Yes, we navigated our way through. But how did Abel do this?”

  Abel perked up at his name. “Huh, what was that?”

  Kieran gave a cruel smile that sent shivers down Heather’s spine. “You heard me, Abel! It has taken us the best part of an hour to get here. We were armed, and had all our faculties about us. Whereas you are blind. How did you make it to us, getting past all of these obstacles without getting hurt or lost or worse, killed?”

  “I don’t know, I was lucky I guess.”

  Kieran laughed. “So you didn’t trip over any bodies? Or get whipped in the face with plastic? Or walk into a fucking doorway that needed opening with a button being pressed on a panel? You managed to get through all of that without telling us anything that would be ahead? Is that right?”

  “What can I say? Luck. It works in fascinating ways.” Abel talked blithely, initially unaware of the anger in Kieran’s tone. When the other man didn’t reply, he sensed something was wrong. “Kieran, what’s wrong? I don’t know why you’re getting at. Are you angry?”

  “I’m not angry, I am just frustrated,” the other man replied. “I feel as if I’m going around in circles.”

  “You are.”

  Kieran looked up in surprise.

  Heather looked at Abel, frowning. “What do you mean?”

  Abel ran a hand over his head, and Heather heard the rasp of close cut hair brushing against his palms. “Well. I overheard the soldiers talking before, as I was running away. The reason they didn’t follow me was that apparently this facility is monitored by people. Our every move is being watched. The soldiers said, and I quote: ‘good luck getting anywhere with The Chronicle watching’, whatever that means.”

  Kieran’s eyes were narrowed to slits, his rage not dissipated. He looked up at the ceilings, checking for cameras, but saw none. “You said we are running around in circles. What has that got to do with any of this?”

  Heather held Abel’s arm. Abel paused before he replied. “It might not have anything to do with it. But I never entered any codes into doors, or saw – sorry, felt – any bodies. The coppery smell, blood, wasn’t there the first time I walked through. That was new to me.”

  Kieran frowned. “But you said you smelt copper on the way through, when we discussed the SWAT bodies.”

  Abel aimed his eyeless gaze in Kieran’s direction. “That’s…that’s right.”

  Heather and Kieran were still confused. Neither said anything. Abel, sensing the mood, continued: “Maybe they’re manipulating the environment? If they’re watching, I assume they might have some control over proceedings too? Who knows what they are capable of, or why they are doing it? You said yourselves, you felt like guinea pigs. And I certainly do.”

  Abel started walking towards the wall, and Heather followed him. “Abel, I’d stop walking,” she advised him. “The doors are the other way.”

  Abel didn’t respond. He reached the wall and bumped into it. Using his hands for guidance, he pushed against it and held himself up, looking as if he might fall. Heather looked across at Kieran, and they both moved closer to the blind man.

  “Abel?” Heather called out.

  Abel was taking quick sharp breaths. “Heather, sorry, but I don’t feel too good.”

  Heather took his arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “My heart. It’s burning in my chest.”

  Kieran interjected. “Have you got pains in your left arm?”

  Abel shook his head. “No, it’s not a heart attack. It feels like heartburn, but worse. Feels as if my chest is on fire.”

  Heather held her hands against his chest, massaging the flesh, doing her best to ameliorate the pain. She had noticed that Abel’s skin had paled. Holding Abel’s arm, she guided him away from the wall. “Abel, you’re losing colour in your skin, sit down, and take the weight off your feet. Maybe it will help.”

  The suffering man pushed her hands away, backing. “Get away, Heather!”

  Heather moved closer. “Seriously, Abel, if you sit—”

  Abel swung his right arm at her, his hand smashing into Heather’s chest. The blow winded her, and she staggered backwards, tripping over her feet and collapsing to the ground. She gasped for breath.

  “Stay away, Heather! Stay!” Abel’s words were tortured, and it was obvious that he had trouble breathing. “Shit! My—”

  He bent over and vomit poured from his mouth, splattering on the ground. He gave a low groan. Kieran ran across to Heather, who pointed at Abel and sat up. Kieran came closer to the older man.

  Abel stood up. For seconds, he remained still. Then his body contracted and he bent forward again. Blood started oozing from his nose, while his right hand continued to clutch his chest. His left hand clawed at the rag around his head. A low moan escaped his lips as he turned towards Kieran and collapsed forward. His face smashed against the ground and finally his body came to a rest. He convulsed for a few seconds and then stopped moving.

  Kieran dropped to his knees and placed a finger on Abel’s neck. The pulse was very weak, almost non-existent, in fact. Kieran tried rolling Abel over. As he did so, the suffering man’s body convulsed again and arched in pain. Veins stuck out on his skin. Every muscle seemed to stand out, as if they might explode at any second. Kieran heard Abel’s teeth snapping against each other, was aware of a squealing rasping sound as if they were breaking. He saw foam on the man’s lips. Then Abel’s body went limp. Kieran knew that he was gone.

  If he had possessed eyes, Kieran would have closed them out of respect. He lowered his head. Heather climbed to her feet. She staggered over, rubbing her chest. “What happened?”

  Kieran just shook his head. Heather’s hand came up to her mouth. “Poor Abel,” she said, bending down to look at the body.

  Neither of them said anything.

  Several minutes passed. Heather felt tears running down her face. Kieran stood up and breathed deeply. He turned to Heather. “Are you okay? Can you breathe okay?”

  Heather tried to smile. “Yep, I should be fine. What do you think happened?”

  Kieran shrugged his shoulders. “A side effect of the drugs, I should think. It came on very quickly. I don’t think it could be anything else. Unless it was a delayed reaction to the mutilation.”

  An awkward silence followed. Heather started breathing rapidly again, as Kieran lo
oked down at the body. “I suppose he wouldn’t know what happened. They just dosed him up. Used him as a human guinea pig.” He stepped over to Abel and rolled the body onto its back, as a sign of respect.

  Heather shook her head, to try and dispel the horror she’d witnessed. “What sort of a human could do this to another person? Experiment or not, this is manslaughter. Do you think they call this science?”

  “I don’t think there’s a name for it. There are some fucked up people in this world and Abel just happened to work for some of them.” His words trailed off.

  In silence, they both moved towards the plastic-draped doorway. Not once did they turn back and look at Abel. Kieran placed a hand on her shoulder as Heather wiped the tears from her eyes. They stepped through the door. As they did so, Kieran turned to Heather. “If I get out of here, these people, ‘The Company’ are going to pay.”

  Heather lowered her head. “Who says we are going to get out of here? Like Abel said, we are being watched, our every move is being monitored.”

  “That’s right. That means they know we are coming. Let’s see what the fuckers throw at us next.”

  ***

  Delta started to relax. Initially, the shock of his team being slaughtered had put him on edge. He still hadn’t discovered the cause of the chaos. A rogue clone, maybe? Surely not, he reasoned, they obey me. They don’t have sentient feelings. He pushed the problem to the back of his mind.

  He organised a replacement team to go in, for he would need one regardless. He didn’t care for the old team, they were disposable, easily replaced. Losing them was an occupational hazard.

  When he saw Abel die, he was delighted. It was at that moment that he realised his team had provided him with a unique tool. He had instructed them to go into the facility, create a group of clones in order to provide entertainment and to use them as they thought best. It seemed that they had done more than this.

  Delta smiled. He was one step closer to being able to turn humans into mindless war machines. Abel’s death confirmed that there were chinks in the process. He would need to iron out the imperfections. Abel wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last who had sacrificed their lives for the greater good.