It's Only the End of the World

by J. A. Henderson

  “What if your parents were two of the millions I saved? Which is exactly what I’m trying to do, in case you forgot.”

  The boy thought long and hard about that. Much as he hated the idea, he could see what Frankie was getting at.

  “I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he said, with some relief. “You can’t go against the way you’ve been programmed.”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All systems have a secret back door, kiddo. Usually a string of numbers that will bypass their security. If I knew what they were, I could erase my programming and do whatever I thought best.”

  “Can’t you calculate every digit in the universe simultaneously, or something like that? Should be walk in the park for you.”

  “Gerry wasn’t stupid,” Frankie admitted grudgingly. “Only he knows the correct sequence. I try the wrong code three times and I’ll shut down. Permanently.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Charlie said as evenly as he could, “I’m sorry for your predicament.”

  He kept a neutral expression on his face, but his heart was racing. The numbers in his father’s letter. They had to be the back door Frankie was talking about! He remembered how insistent his dad had been that the artificial intelligence must never see the code.

  Yet, part of Charlie agreed with everything the AI had just said.

  Was it because the Atlas Serum was making him more callous and aggressive?

  Or because, deep down, he believed Frankie was right?

  22

  Daffodil sat on the bed with Scotty Primo, watching three guards huddled in a corner, talking quietly into their walkie-talkies. Jake marched over and began to handcuff Scotty to the bed.

  “Not in front of my daughter, boss!” he implored.

  “We have to leave and get cleaned up,” the guard apologised. “Some kind of health and safety emergency.” He patted Daffodil’s arm, then withdrew his hand quickly. “You stay with your dad, sweetheart, till we find out what’s going on.”

  The officers trooped out, locking the door behind them.

  As soon as they had gone, Daffodil bent one leg and slid open a hidden compartment in the heel of her boot. She removed a small vial and tapped a few drops of clear liquid onto Scotty’s handcuffs. A pungent smell filled the room.

  “Don’t let that touch you,” she warned. “It’s concentrated sulphuric acid.”

  A few seconds later, the links had corroded and Primo was free.

  “Great plan so far.” He rubbed his wrists. “Now we’ve just got to get past a million guards, dozens of locked gates and a fifteen-foot wall.”

  “Quit bellyachin and take me to the White Spider.”

  “Follow me.” Scotty led the way. “But you won’t like what you find.”

  The White Spider was immobile on his bunk, leather straps fastened across his chest, legs and head. As an extra precaution, his hands were manacled to the iron sides of the bed. The man’s complexion was pale and waxy, the result of the pill he had been given.

  “I would greatly appreciate a little help.” He stared at the ceiling. “My nose is itching rather fiercely.”

  “The guards are gone.” Scotty began to unbuckle the restraints. “And I’m with the girl I told you about. Daffodil McNugget.”

  “Hello, my strangely named ticket to the outside world,” the Spider said agreeably. “May I ask what has prompted you to rescue a poor sinner like myself?”

  “You can ask.” Daffodil sprinkled acid on the manacles. “You gonna stay put if you don’t get an answer?”

  “I am serving life without parole, missy.” The shackles fell away and the White Spider sat up and slid off the bed. “I think explanations can wait for a more opportune moment.”

  “It just me, or is it getting really cold in here?” Scotty shuddered. “I feel ill enough without catching flu on top.”

  “Where’s the doctor?” Daffodil asked.

  “Got his own room next door.”

  “Tie the door shut with these bandages.” She opened a medicine cabinet and tossed a roll of gauze to the White Spider. “At the end of the ward is a closet where the medical staff keep their spare outfits. Change into scrubs and white coats. Each of you take a surgical mask too.”

  “You seem very familiar with the details of this organisation.” The Spider tilted his head. “Been in prison before, perchance?”

  “Got no idea.” Daffodil removed a thermometer and looked at it. “When the temperature reaches nine degrees, we leave.”

  She turned her head away as the prisoners peeled off their prison blues and put on the green outfits of the medical staff. She squirted the last of the acid on the infirmary lock and a wisp of smoke rose from the dissolving metal.

  There were shouts of alarm from outside and the sound of weapons being cocked.

  “They’re waiting for us.” Scotty slipped on a doctor’s coat and wiped a droplet of perspiration from the tip of his nose. “We’re trapped.”

  Daffodil seemed unfazed. “Every guard in this place has just washed their hands with sanitiser from the soap dispensers.”

  “So they’ll be nice and clean when they shoot us.”

  “We doctored the liquid soap with an adhesive that clings to flesh,” the girl explained. “At a certain temperature it suddenly goes rock hard. A bit like superglue.” She looked at the thermometer again. “Nine degrees.”

  The commotion in the corridor increased.

  Daffodil pulled open the infirmary door. A dozen guards were thrashing and shouting, stuck by their hands to the walls or each other. Two were still mobile and raised their shotguns in panic.

  Scotty ducked and covered his head.

  “They can’t fire,” Daffodil reassured him. “Their fingers are set rigid.”

  “Time for a spot of delicious revenge.” The White Spider picked up a discarded weapon and cradled it. “Suddenly I feel all warm and fuzzy.”

  The warders backed away in terror as he advanced on them.

  “Keep the safety on.” Daffodil got in front of him. “Nobody’s dyin today.”

  “You don’t know the way these animals treated me,” the Spider hissed. “I may have deserved it, but I’m also a painfully sore loser.”

  “Don’t know and don’t care. Safety on.”

  “I’m afraid I’m done taking orders.” The man pointed his gun at her. “Had my fill of that in Iraq.”

  Scotty scooped up another discarded weapon and trained it on his fellow inmate. “Let her be,” he said, voice quavering. “The girl got us this far and I won’t have you harm a kid.”

  “You must have a particularly soft spot for her.” The Spider’s eyes bored into his fellow inmate. “Or you wouldn’t be taking such a suicidal course of action in threatening me.”

  “Don’t need your help, Scotty.” Daffodil stood toe to toe with the killer, though she only came up to his chest. “You won’t get another foot without me, you creep,” she rasped. “Drop the attitude or the hardware. Your choice.”

  “My, what a feisty young terrier you are!” The White Spider bowed and lowered his weapon. “I can tell we’re going to get along famously.”

  “So long as you accept me bein in charge.” Daffodil turned to the cowering guards. “Lie on the floor, face down, and don’t move till we’re gone. The stuff on your hands will dissolve when the temperature goes up again.”

  They obeyed without protest.

  “Frankie?” She fingered her neck. “Start unlockin the corridor gates. We’re comin out.”

  The iron barrier at the end of the corridor slid open with a beep.

  “Let’s go.” She headed down the passageway, Scotty close behind.

  The Spider stopped and licked thin lips. “Who is this Frankie and how exactly did he execute that nifty manoeuvre?”

  “He’s my accomplice on the outside.” Daffodil raised an eyebrow. “I’m fourteen. You think I organised this shebang with a troop of girl scouts?”
<
br />   “It should be utterly impossible to interfere with Sunnyside’s security systems from beyond the walls.” The Spider trotted after them. “I’d very much like to meet your mysterious partner in crime.”

  23

  One by one the electronic doors opened as the trio raced through the corridors. Then they locked again, cutting off any pursuit. Not that anyone was chasing them, for most guards were stuck to furniture, bars or walls they had leant against to try and free their hands. Others were unable to grasp their batons and rifles properly or even put them down. Faced with a gun-toting White Spider, nobody was inclined to put up any resistance.

  Until they reached corridor five.

  A side door opened behind them and one warder emerged, carrying a rifle.

  “Drop your weapons!” he shouted. “Put your hands over your heads.”

  The fugitives skidded to a halt as the guard knelt and trained his weapon on them.

  Scotty glanced nervously over his shoulder. “That’s Alex Murphy. The toughest, meanest guard in the place. Might have guessed he’d ignore the rules and not wash his hands.”

  “Stop talking and hit the floor,” Murphy warned. “Before I put a hole in you.”

  Scotty dropped his weapon and lay flat, but Daffodil was between Murphy and the Spider. The fugitive whirled round, grabbed the girl and pulled her close, pressing his gun against her head.

  “You drop your weapon,” he yelled back. “Or I kill the hostage.”

  Murphy didn’t even flinch.

  “Wonderful idea, making us put the safety catches on,” the Spider whispered in Daffodil’s ear. “Couldn’t get the drop on that blaggard if I wanted to.”

  “Pretty glad I insisted on it now.” Daffodil squinted at the gun barrel poking into her temple.

  “I don’t negotiate with scum,” Murphy said. “On your knees or I start firing.”

  “You’d risk killing a child?” Scotty gawped. “The Spider won’t back down. He’s a total sociopath.”

  “It’s a gamble I’m willing to take.” The guard took aim. “’Sides, I’m an excellent shot.”

  “See what I have to contend with in this hellhole?” The Spider let the gun fall from his fingers. “The staff in here deserve to be incarcerated more than I do.”

  “Thank you, mister!” Daffodil ran to the officer and sheltered behind him. “You saved my life!”

  Before Murphy had time to answer, she grabbed a handful of his hair in each hand and yanked with all her strength. He was jerked backwards with a cry, bullets spraying across the ceiling.

  The White Spider raced forwards, kicked the gun away and planted a foot on the man’s chest, pinning him to the floor.

  “This squirming creature is my main tormentor,” he crowed. “Now I shall flatten him like an insignificant worm.”

  “He’s been reading Immanuel Kant,” Scotty said unhelpfully.

  “Kill him and you’re stuck here.” Daffodil raised a warning figure. “I won’t tell you again.”

  “You’re either a saint or a fool, bossy-pants, but there’s no denying your courage and decency.” The Spider lifted his boot and picked up the man with one hand. “Fortunately, bravery is one of the few traits I admire.” He flicked his wrist and Alex Murphy sailed through the air, slamming into the wall and sliding down, unconscious. “Decency? Not so much.”

  Did you see? Scotty mouthed to Daffodil. Nobody’s that strong!

  “Let us proceed and hope we have no more distractions.” The Spider scooped up his gun again. “My patience is beginning to wane and that’s never a good thing.”

  The escapees burst into the reception room and found Muriel glued to her desk.

  “You’re helping the White Spider!” she cried. “How could you?”

  “It’s a long story,” Daffodil replied, shamefaced. “Where’s the alarm button?”

  “Below my desk,” the petrified woman replied. “But you don’t have to kill me. Honestly. I can’t reach it.”

  “I know.” Daffodil crawled under the bureau and pressed the alarm. Seconds later, sirens went off.

  “That will bring the police in droves,” Scotty shouted. “Are you nuts?”

  “I have the distinct impression this little hellion has everything under control.” The White Spider sank into a padded armchair and relaxed. “Aah. So much better than my cold, unyielding bunk.” He gave Muriel a sinister sneer. “Perhaps we shall have time to get properly acquainted.”

  The woman gave a squeak of fear.

  “Leave her alone, White…” The girl threw up her hands. “What the hell is your real name, anyway?”

  “Tadeusz Telekowska Tietze. My father was Polish.”

  “Phwah!” Daffodil snorted. “What a tongue-twister!”

  “True. I sometimes wish I had a nice normal name like Daffodil McNugget,” the Spider chuckled. “Why not call me Tad?”

  “Don’t intend for us to be on first-name terms, hoss.” Daffodil crouched and peered out of the window. “Both of you put on your surgical masks and ditch the shotguns.” She touched her neck. “Frankie? We’re ready.”

  *

  “All hell’s broken loose,” Frankie informed Charlie. “The alarms have gone off, squad cars are racing to Sunnyside and a police helicopter will be there in a couple of minutes. I’ve shut down all the CCTV cameras in the prison, so the chopper is their only way of seeing into the complex.”

  “They have no idea what’s happening inside?” Charlie had bitten through all his nails and was working on the tips of his fingers.

  “Nobody in Sunnyside is able to work a phone or walkie-talkie and I’d jam communications if they did,” Frankie assured him. “You sure you can copy the voice of Police Commissioner MacDougall from that short radio interview I played?”

  “No problem.” The boy picked up a mike. “Patch me through to the chopper and scramble any other signals.”

  “Done. You’re now the only person who can communicate with the helicopter. Try not to crash it.”

  “This is Police Commissioner MacDougall, son,” Charlie said in a thick Highland accent. “Are you over the prison?”

  “Lieutenant Potter in Skyhawk One, here,” a voice replied. “You won’t believe what we’re seeing. The compound has a bunch of guards running around acting crazy.”

  “Define crazy.”

  “Some seem to be hugging the walls or each other. Others are waving their weapons about and yelling. I… I can’t explain it. It’s like they’ve gone insane.”

  “You’re not far wrong,” Charlie said. “I just received a call from staff in the prison infirmary, who apprised me of the situation. Seems there was an aborted breakout. Someone released hallucinogenic gas and it’s affecting everyone in there.”

  “You certain? I don’t see any inmates.”

  “The escape attempt failed because the prisoners were locked up in time, but it’s driven the guards into a frenzy. Until the air clears, we have to consider them more dangerous than the convicts.”

  “Why aren’t the infirmary staff affected, sir?”

  “They’re wearing surgical masks, but that won’t keep the fumes out for long. They’ve made it to the reception area and now they’re trapped. You’ll have to go down and pick them up.”

  “Into that chaos?” Lieutenant Potter stuttered. “Everyone is armed to the teeth.”

  “The doctors have a fourteen year old with them who was visiting her dad,” Charlie insisted. “We can’t leave a child down there. The press would have a field day.”

  “What about the gas?” Potter was determined to make his reluctance clear.

  “The rotor blades on your bird will disperse it as you descend, and knock most of the guards flat too.” Charlie crossed his fingers. “The staff will make a run for it when you land. Get back in the air before one of those crazies decides to hitch a ride.”

  “Will do, sir. Wish us luck.”

  “It’s up to you now, Chaz,” Frankie said. “I’m going dark until we’re b
ack at the safe house. I don’t see any reason to let Primo or the Spider know my true nature.”

  “What could they do? Make a citizen’s arrest?”

  “You know me. I like to play my cards close to my chest.”

  24

  The helicopter landed in the exercise yard, rotors churning up dirt and flattening grass. Daffodil, Scotty and the White Spider sprinted from the reception area and raced towards it, white coats flapping. Three guards tried to stop them, using their weapons like clubs, but the White Spider punched them out of the way as he ran.

  “Coming through!” he yelled gleefully. “Make way or I shall box your ears!”

  The trio piled into the helicopter and sprawled across the floor.

  “Those are prisoners!” one officer screamed, trying to tear himself free from the fence he was stuck to. “You’re helping them escape, you fools!” His words were whipped away by the deafening sound of the chopper’s engines. The helicopter took off again, frustrated guards dancing around below.

  “We got them!” Lieutenant Potter whooped into his headset. “I can set everyone down outside. The squad cars will be here in five minutes.”

  “That’s a negative,” Charlie warned. “We don’t know how far the gas has spread.”

  “What do you suggest, sir?”

  “Fly them over the River Forth and land in Denholm Park. There’s a Health Protection Agency van there, ready to examine them. Then return to Sunnyside immediately and stay well above any fumes. I’m told the security cameras are down, so you’re our only way to see how the situation is developing.”

  “Will do, Commissioner.”

  Minutes later the chopper descended and landed next to the surveillance van, which was now bright yellow and bore a Health Protection Agency logo. The trio jumped out and the bird immediately rose into the air again.

  Charlie slid open the vehicle’s side panel, two rectangles under his arm. Scotty and the White Spider exchanged puzzled looks.

  “Another child?” The Spider remarked. “This is a most unusual rescue crew.”