All or Nothing

by Stuart Keane

Kathryn breathed deeply. She had a plan in mind. Iain had told her about the road but she hadn’t been given any specific details. All she knew was that the road led to her escape, and was her only chance of freedom. She looked up, checking the buildings, the trees, the lampposts and the phone lines that ran across the skyline.

  Kathryn wondered where the cameras were for The Game: she assumed they were everywhere. Not that they mattered now that the Chronicle was out of action. She wondered if anyone was still watching what was happening. Iain had mentioned numbered phases of The Game, and she hoped that now, the live action was in the past.

  After seven minutes, Kathryn moved from the shadows into the street. She expected a sudden barrage of gunfire or noise but nothing happened, and she was greeted by silence. The atmosphere was awe-inspiring in a way. Kathryn decided to be careful anyway, just in case there was something unexpected.

  She edged towards the bushes. She was on an outcrop of grass, the building’s front garden. The bushes lined the grass, serving as a makeshift fence. Kathryn ducked down behind them and observed the scene, reflecting that for seven minutes, nothing had moved. It remained that way. She counted off ten more seconds in her head and moved forward.

  The bushes rustled as she pushed through them and emerged on the slick concrete. To the right, the path she was on stretched back the way she had come. Left, it followed the road before her. As she had noticed before, the road broke into a cross section, four roads angled off to various sections of town. She could just make out shadows of buildings far away. One road branched right and, assuming her geography was correct, must have run parallel to the road Iain had mentioned.

  Or it could be the same road. She decided to find out.

  Kathryn ran across the street, and ducked behind the small wall opposite the entrance. She looked to left and right and hopped over it. Within seconds, she was outside the theatre. A strong smell of urine and alcohol filled the air. Kathryn gagged, placing her arm against her mouth. She unwittingly discovered its source, finding that one of the doorways had become a toilet for anyone who wanted to use it. Pools of urine soaked the steps outside the door, and the concrete wall was soaked and stained with other bodily fluids. Some were obvious, others less so, and a few were probably best left unidentified.

  A shrine of beer cans stood on the ground, and it seemed that someone had sprayed them liberally with urine. Empty bottles and cans littered the lobby beyond the doorway. A solitary display cabinet flickered inside the building.

  Kathryn listened for any noise.

  Silence.

  Kathryn kept to the wall and scooted along the front wall of the theatre, finally reaching the edge of the building. Looking forward, she now knew the layout. The theatre had its own private thoroughfare which looped around the building, and this was adjacent to the crossroads. It looked as if the theatre’s private road served to keep vehicles away from the main road, but could also be used for protecting the privacy of VIP visitors to the theatre; Kathryn remembered seeing a similar private approach road in the past.

  The crossroads stood opposite, lit up by traffic lights which, bizarrely for a deserted road, were working. No cars shot through, no youngsters were showing off behind the wheel. The street itself was isolated and quiet.

  She rounded the edge of the wall. The road continued straight off the loop and took her past three more old buildings. One looked to be virtually made of glass, while the other two contained none. The third building was labelled MUSEUM. She couldn’t see any entrance. Kathryn discovered a side road that angled off to a car park. The museum entrance appeared to be down there, flanked by two huge lion statues.

  She ignored the road and continued on.

  The straight path came to an end after a few more feet, dipping onto another road. This one created a T shape where the two roads merged. The wall that followed the road from the theatre was still there but stopped at the T. From this point onwards, there would be no walls or shadows to protect her.

  The road ahead was brightly lit by various street lamps and shop fronts. Shadows danced off the bus stops and bike holders and metal fences that lined the street. A zebra crossing stood alone, its orange bulbs blinking continuously in the quietness. A huge building labelled HABITAT stood proud in the centre of a street that appeared to continue for many miles. From this angle, Kathryn saw another T-junction which linked to the road that Iain had mentioned.

  She peered around the edge of the building, along to the right of the T. In the distance she could see the street curve off into darkness. An ASK restaurant, beautifully crafted in glass and steel, stood on a corner. Its red letters stood stark against the darkness. The nearby street lamp cast an elegant glow onto the glass. In another world, this place would have been beautiful to explore.

  Kathryn turned back to the road. It ran across the front of the HABITAT building. At this point, the street was immensely bright. She stepped onto the road and moved across to a building that had thick red double doors. She realised it was some kind of a nightclub. This was the back entrance, the one used to eject unwelcome customers. Kathryn concluded that the entrance was likely to be on the road opposite HABITAT. She moved towards the street and investigated.

  The road continued straight and followed a gentle bend. The black tarmac was pristine and slick in the street lamps’ glow. The footpaths were made of red brick. An HSBC bank with its interior lights on stood on a corner. Kathryn could see a card reader on the door; there was an all-night ATM machine. A photography shop was its neighbour, with a Thomas Cook travel agents standing next to that. The road was immaculate and clean, and very well maintained, with a small speed bump. No vehicles at all were present. A small residential street ran between the bank and HABITAT.

  Kathryn crossed the road, guessing that the bank would provide her some cover whilst she checked out the rest of the street. Crossing back again, she noticed the nightclub entrance. The sign outside read ‘The Playhouse’. From its appearance, Kathryn guessed that it was an old building that had been restored. Grand steps led up to glass and bronze doors. The darkness beyond indicated that the club was not open for business. A butcher’s shop stood next to it, with a sign proclaiming ‘50% off prices’ in its empty window.

  She looked along the street. A few metres down, the road opened up into a shopping plaza. The street widened as it progressed, and arched off behind the buildings that were in front of her. However, some of the shops were in view: NEXT, River Island, McDonalds and a Costa. All of the shops’ signs were lit up, but the stores were all closed. Where the shopping plaza branched off behind the buildings, Kathryn could make out an electronic map, a couple of benches and an overflowing dustbin.

  In other words, it was just a standard high street experience.

  Kathryn looked at the shops. In no particular order, she decided that she fancied a cheeseburger, a coffee and a nice new set of clothes.

  Her stomach rumbled.

  And a massage wouldn’t go amiss either.

  Nor would a shower.

  Kathryn pushed on the HSBC bank door. It didn’t budge. She checked the card reader and it was intact, so no damage had been done. She wondered if Sputnik and company had actually made it down here. Had they come this far down the street? Or had they been positioned further back, for her benefit?

  For that matter, if she had been part of The Game, surely they wouldn’t have replicated this whole street?

  Kathryn looked up into the night sky. Were they stars up there?

  It suddenly dawned on Kathryn that this was a real street. Everything she was seeing now was real. Since this was The Game, something she was certain of, then the organisers had cordoned off a street in some suitable town just for her benefit. Which meant that only one building had been internally renovated to match her own office. Meaning that the other buildings were very real.

  Yet that couldn’t be the case. No one could have that kind of power to close an entire street, let alone an entire town. Surely if the town was
inhabited, she reasoned, there would have to be some background noise: a baby crying, people singing after a night out, a car honking its horn. There would have to be normal human noises. Such sounds were absent.

  In a way it was impressive. Very impressive. The scope of the idea was both phenomenal and terrifying at the same time. If Iain was correct, and all that was happening to her was occurring in secret, then some very powerful people were responsible for keeping everything under wraps.

  Kathryn felt a smile tug at her lips, she couldn’t help it. It’s unbelievable.

  At that moment, Kathryn knew she had to escape. This mayhem couldn’t be allowed to continue. What she had witnessed was probably just a small part of the overall picture. People had died, some innocent, some unknowing. Who knew how many had died in the entire history of all The Game competitions over the years? The sheer thought of it was incomprehensible.

  Kathryn moved into the street. She started to cross the road, heading for the opposite side, stepping up onto the red bricked pavement.

  And then she saw the boy.

  Well, he was more of a teenager. He was sitting on a bench, acting in a very ‘teenage’ way. His rump was on the back of the seat, his feet where his backside should have been, and he was playing with a green yo-yo. It dropped from his fingers, down, then up, in the toy’s standard sequence of movement.

  The boy had long black hair which covered his face. He was looking downwards, absorbed in what he was doing. He was dressed all in black, wearing baggy clothes, his trench coat crumpled underneath him. He hadn’t seen Kathryn. She stood frozen to the spot.

  She slowly moved to the wall beside her.

  And then the teenager looked up. He stared at Kathryn in silence.

  Kathryn didn’t move.

  “Hello.”

  It was a female voice. It took Kathryn by surprise.

  “Hello?” Again, a female voice.

  Kathryn said nothing. She wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “I said hello,” the youth continued. “The decent thing is to say it back.”

  Kathryn cleared her throat. “Hello.”

  The girl stood up. Once the trench coat fell into place, the rest of her clothes followed her body’s contours. No longer hindered by the teenage slouch, it was apparent that this stranger was a heavyset woman with large breasts. She was wearing dark blue jeans, and a chain hung from the belt and looped back up into her pocket. She wore black boots which gleamed beneath the light from the street lamps, and her coat hung to her ankles. The T-shirt beneath revealed a SLIPKNOT logo. Kathryn had heard of these musical performers before, she thought they were quite good for a ‘metal’ band. A metal pendant hung just above the band’s logo. The girl walked over and stepped up onto the red brick pavement closer to the other woman.

  Up close, Kathryn noticed that the girl had a pretty, if slightly chubby, face. Her left eyebrow was pierced with a small metal bar, and Kathryn detected a lick of red in her hair, which was faded but visible. Her right ear was pierced several times with small silver rings. She had ferocious green eyes, and her skin was pale and unblemished. Beneath the street lamp, she looked like some kind of weird, black angel.

  Kathryn stepped back a pace. “Can I help you?”

  The girl eyed Kathryn in silence. Kathryn stood still, aware that she was being scrutinised. After a moment, the newcomer said, “Where did you come from? You look like hell!”

  Kathryn suddenly realised that she hadn’t looked in a mirror for some time. She imagined that she must appear bruised, battered and bloody, her face further ravaged by crying and lack of sleep. She managed a weak smile. “It’s just been another normal night, really.”

  The girl smiled, running her tongue over her lips. Kathryn noticed that she had a tongue stud, noting that this person had a penchant for sticking pieces of metal into her body.

  “So what’s normal for you?” the black-clad woman asked her. “Did your boyfriend beat you up?”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s… It’s just been a long night. What are you doing out here?”

  The girl gave a whistle. “Oh nothing much, just hanging out, I’ve got nothing much to do.”

  Kathryn eyed the girl with disbelief. “Where are your parents?”

  “Fuck off, I don’t need any parents. I’m old enough to be out on my own.”

  “So how old are you?”

  “Old enough to smoke, drink and fuck, if that’s what you mean! What’s the matter, have you got a lady boner for me? Sorry, lady, it’s just my mummy always told me never to speak to strangers. And I made the decision myself never to fuck them. So back off!”

  Kathryn took a step back. What a weird woman. After a second, she questioned herself as to why she’d done so. She shook her head and rubbed the back of her neck. What a crazy night it was turning out to be. “I wouldn’t worry about my intentions. I have a boyfriend,” she lied.

  “That’s totes cool. Have to put it out there, you see, didn’t want you trying to take advantage of me.”

  Kathryn stopped rubbing her neck. “How long have you been out here?”

  The girl seemed amused about something. “You mean tonight or in my lifetime? Tonight it’s been about three hours. As for in my lifetime, man, I don’t remember—”

  “—Tonight, I meant tonight!” Kathryn cut her off, feeling awkward.

  “Yep, well, as I said, three hours, maybe four. Why?”

  “No reason.” Kathryn didn’t want to leave the girl behind here if she could help it. Who could tell if she’d be safe? Kathryn closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, allowing her breath to escape slowly before she opened her eyes again.

  “You okay?” the girl asked in concern. “You don’t look so good. I can hook you up with some dope if you want to relax?”

  Kathryn laughed. “Trust me, that’s the last thing on my mind right now. I need to get going, okay? You take care out here. I hear there are some unsavoury characters floating about.”

  The girl nodded. Kathryn turned around and continued towards the McDonalds. The gradual bend now straightened out into a long road that led uphill. She knew that, ten minutes away, lay her freedom. Kathryn, for the first time, felt a glimmer of hope, although a shred of doubt still lingered.

  Expect the unexpected, thought Kathryn.

  “Excuse me, lady?”

  The girl was back. Kathryn turned and smiled weakly. “Yes?”

  “I have a message for you—”

  As Kathryn turned, at first she didn’t see the baseball bat swinging towards her head. By the time she’d ducked, it was too late. The wood connected with the side of her skull. A sickening wooden clonk filled the still, night air. Kathryn felt a white-hot searing pain, then she felt groggy. Her knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the floor. Just before she lapsed into unconsciousness she was aware of the cool concrete pressing against her face as the girl walked into view.

  “Nice to meet you, Kathryn.”

  Her mind faded to blackness.

  A glimmer of hope. Dashed.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  The BMW idled slowly. Rupert sat in the driver’s seat, unmoving. The vehicle’s lights were off and the car was parked in a small alleyway.

  Following the GPS, Rupert reached the end of the journey. It was a tall, slick building, all glass and smooth edges. Rupert had seen buildings like this before, they radiated wealth and class: places such as insurance offices and banks. Generally speaking, it seemed to him that a high cashflow meant shiny black glass. It was the norm, apparently.

  He saw the structure on the horizon and before he even pulled up outside, he knew it was where he needed to be. It was the only building in the street with any charisma, and the only one with a presence. The other structures nearby were warehouses, empty lots and storage rooms. This ‘shiny black glass’ building looked out of place, but after the events of this evening, nothing surprised Rupert anymore.

  After leaving his ‘home’, Rupert had driven the route as direc
ted by the GPS. He drove past a Range Rover that was parked on the roadside. It looked new and clean. He assumed it had been Gunnar’s car. After half a mile he came to a sloped wall and had to stop because his path was blocked. However, once his car had halted, a small red laser beam appeared in the wall. It scanned the number plate on his vehicle, and after a few moments, a hidden door opened up. The road obviously led to the outside world. Rupert quickly drove through it. The red laser repeated the number plate recognition process once he was outside of the structure. Once through the opening, having driven a short distance, he stopped and turned around in his seat and had a look.

  He was dumbfounded.

  Rupert was looking at a black dome, something similar to the Millennium Dome in London, a lot smaller in size, but very similar in design. It was pure black, with no visible windows or other noticeable entrances. Rupert wasn’t good at estimating measurements, but he guessed that it must have been about forty feet high, maybe a bit wider.

  Evidently John had built a dome, constructed a copy of his house inside it, and created a miniature universe just for him. Revenge, it seemed, didn’t have a price tag. John had pulled out all the stops for this. The sheer audacity of something this vast amazed Rupert. How could this be happening without anyone knowing about it?

  He got his answer a few minutes later. Rupert was back in the BMW and drove past several structures, some of the same design. He was in an industrial estate of some description, with warehouses, storage lockers, and empty lots. Some buildings were still in the early stages of construction, and the entire estate seemed to be in a huge, isolated plot of land. No one would even notice the black dome was there. No one apart from the business owners would have a reason to drive there.

  John had been clever about it.

  Rupert drove for twenty minutes, taking in the surroundings.

  Then Rupert had seen the large building with the black glass windows. He slowed his pace a little, taking in the scenery, not wanting to lose his bearings. As he came closer the GPS chirped to him in its electronic voice: