He smiled sadly.
“But,” she added, her voice turning low. “If you ever come near me or my friends again after this, I’ll kill you myself.”
Toby’s smile fell, and grief entered his gaze. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” His voice was quiet as he pressed one hand against the metal table top behind, his long brown coat rustling. He reached down towards the fallen body of the old man, reaching inside the pockets of the overalls, searching for something. After rummaging through most of them, he finally dragged out a thin, white plastic strip with letters and a photo on it, waving it in the air. “But this is going to help you find what you need, first.”
Freda suppressed what she wanted to say as Harris and Reilly moved towards the stairs, snatching the identity card out of Toby’s outstretched hand before limping past. She groaned as she eased herself up off the ground, allowing herself one last shudder as she gazed around at the laboratory. Then she looked down at the mad old scientist with a grimace. His face was gone, replaced by a mass of red flesh and blood, Toby’s chair leg rolling next to it in a final show of victory. Human nature was the same, no matter where you went in the wastes. Toby’s actions didn’t surprise her. The old man’s plans hadn’t surprised her. But Harris and Reilly’s hope continued to surprise her.
Chapter Fifteen
Evening, September 15th, 2063 – the Present
Still limping from weariness, Harris pushed his way into the records room, shrugging his rucksack off his shoulders. He threw it down on the ground, reaching inside and pulling out a small bottle of pills hidden in a side-pocket, the zip ringing out in the still air. Popping it open with a grunt, he tipped it upside down and knocked a few of the white pills inside out, offering two across to Reilly and Freda. “Here. It’s for radiation sickness. It’ll take some of the damage off, slowly. I’ll give you another one in a few hours.”
As both women obediently swallowed the medicine down, he made his way over to one of the digital keyboards, now lit up with the returned power. The hallways and corridors felt a lot less spooky with the high-wattage bulbs turned on overhead. Toby stood in the doorway, one side of his jaw already swollen and purple from Harris’ well-aimed thump, his hand resting on the shoulder of his little sister in front of him. Emily watched the adults silently as they strode over to the computers, tapping expectantly on them. Reilly slid the identity card she held through the slot on one in the centre, and a holographic monitor hesitantly appeared above it, projected onto the metal screen on the wall. “Yes. This one’s working.”
Everyone crowded around the screen as it flickered for a few moments, numbers and letters appearing across it in random order as it attempted to reboot itself. Freda gave a sniff. “Won’t it have security or something? How are we getting around that?”
With a grin, Reilly waggled the identity card in one hand. “With this. He was an employee, and this badge states that he’s,” she paused, glancing down at it, “a level-one employee. Hopefully that means he had clearance to their top secret stuff. He certainly sounded like he did.” Her shoulders shook as a shiver went along her spine.
A few more loud beeps and flickers, and the screen finally stabilised itself. The glow from the white screen was soft enough to allow it to be looked at as Reilly hurriedly used her finger to point and click at different folders marked on the desktop. “No…not that one. No, that’s just employee records.”
“What about that one?” Harris tapped his finger twice against the screen and metal behind it, opening a folder marked ‘TESTS’.
Gazing back at him with a worried expression, Reilly grimaced. “After what we heard down there, I was nervous to look at that one.”
“Look!” Freda gestured at the screen, dragging their attention back to it. “Bunkers—all the names of them. Which one’s yours, Reilly?”
“Ours was Bunker Forest. Um…here.” She took a deep breath, tapping twice on the small icon. A long list spilled out over the screen, and Reilly’s hand shook as she lowered it to her side. She blinked for a moment, gripping tightly to the edge of the desk as she read, as though to steady herself. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. “My god. It’s all here. It was all planned. See?” She drew one fingernail beneath some of the words. “Water purifier designed to break after only a few years. Food decontaminators to be faulty, ensured to break after at least ten years. Not enough vaccine for whole bunker; only for those entering the bunker, not their offspring. Keep tabs through life of bunker. Door will be programmed to open only after thirty-two years, regardless of bunker conditions.” She breathed heavily, swallowing hard. “They…they were meant to watch it happen. They did it on purpose.” She turned and looked at Freda, her nails clawing the desk as her face turned ashen. “Cary died…because of an experiment?”
Freda didn’t reply, simply putting out a hand to rest it on Reilly’s arm, lowering her gaze. She didn’t know what to say. Reilly turned back, and Freda lifted her eyes again, reading over the expanded explanation beneath the list of ‘objectives’ for the bunker. It detailed how all the bunkers but a few were nothing more than experiments, designed to test how people would react to various differences of the Illness. Brit Bunker hadn’t even planned for the Big Hit.
“It even says the water tablets contained a mild strain of the Illness,” Harris said hoarsely, scanning the list himself. He shook his head, drawing his eyebrows together. “How…how could they do this to people? How could they live with themselves?”
A sob came from Reilly as she hunched over the keyboard, her shoulders heaving as she broke down. “I don’t know, but I hope they burn in hell.” She wiped furiously at her face, trying to stop the flood of tears as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Not yet.”
The others turned in surprise to Freda’s quietly spoken words. She nodded her head at the screen, her gut squirming as she thought of the long list of bunkers she had seen a moment ago. “I want to check mine.”
“Freda, I don’t—”
“I want to check mine.” Her voice was firm as she rebutted Harris’ comment, and he held his hands up and took a step back. She knew he couldn’t understand her need to be sure. Army bunkers had nothing to do with Brit Bunker. She took in a calming breath, squeezing past Reilly to stand in front of the monitor. “Reilly did it. I need to know, too.”
Her fingers moved quickly over the screen, her eyes hurting as she stopped herself blinking, afraid to miss anything as she ran down the list of bunkers. Her heart stopped as she spotted two familiar words. Bunker Ure. There it is. Named for the river that flowed through the dales, she would have recognised her bunker’s name in her sleep. Her chest squeezed as she tapped on the small icon, waiting for the new screen to load. Ice stabbed through her as she followed the words appearing on the white glow in front of her.
‘All classrooms to be pumped with weak strains of the Illness, along with various drugs, to test readiness for the outside world. As all occupants will be inoculated, this is more a study of their reaction to the drugs, to see if the experiences can be exacerbated by the Illness.’
Freda’s fingers curled tightly as she remembered the teacher stepping out of the classroom when she was a child, always for ten minutes or more. Which meant some of the staff in the bunker, some of the people deemed a friend or loved one, had known about the experiments. Had allowed children to suck in the poisonous air. Someone try to gently grab her shoulder and pull her away, but she shrugged it off, glued to the screen.
‘Pills containing radiation and strains of the Illness to be given to expectant mothers if they complain of morning sickness.’ Underneath it was a later note, dated as such. It proved that Brit Bunker had survived long after the Big Hit, in some form. ‘It appears that many of the pills have caused deformities, mental trauma, and even death in some cases. It would show that at least young children are unable to cope with the raised levels outside the bunker, without proper vaccination.’
Her
head buzzed with dizziness. “My mother had morning sickness with Gareth,” she rasped.
“What?”
“My mother. She had morning sickness with Gareth. She told me once, in one of her soberer moments. She never had it with me.” White-hot anger burned somewhere in the depths of Freda’s soul, and she dearly wished there was a way to bring the old man in the basement back to life so she could kill him all over again. Then find the other employees, and kill them the same way. The reason that Gareth had been hated by her mother, ignored by her father, and cast aside by the rest of her bunker, was all the fault of scientists thinking they could play God.
There was a loud bang from somewhere in the distant lobby of the building, and Freda tore her gaze away from the monitor, her heart still aching as though it had been trodden on. “There’s someone here.” Pushing aside her emotions for the moment, she snatched up her rifle, glancing between the faces watching her. She paused as she took in Reilly’s grey expression, her hands slipping on the heavy shotgun in her grasp. “Reilly, you take Emily and hide somewhere. If we don’t come to find you again, just go once it gets light. Get yourselves back to York.”
“But—”
“No buts, do it.”
“Okay.”
Emily twisted around, grasping her brother’s hand tightly. “No! I don’t want to go without you.”
Toby gave her a firm but brief hug, pushing her carefully over towards Reilly, who held her hand out with a kind smile. “I’ll be fine, Emily. You just go and hide with Reilly, and…” he took in a deep breath, gazing between Freda and Harris, “I’ll be back soon.”
Emily sobbed as Reilly snatched up Harris’ rucksack and tugged her into the hallway before the others, disappearing into one of the many rooms that led off it. Freda, Harris and Toby all passed them quickly, breaking into a run for the lobby as they heard shouts and more loud bangs. The corridors were easier to traverse with the lights on, but as they drew closer to the sounds, Freda wished for some darkness as cover. She recognised the howls and cries as belonging to the bandits they had managed to sneak past earlier. Either they had known they were there all along and had followed them, or—much more likely—they had spotted the lights coming on in the old building. Damn it, why didn’t we think of that? Anything changing out here is like a red rag to a bull.
The three of them burst through the employees’ door that led into the curved lobby, and they opened fire on the surprised bandits before they had a chance to react. Freda quickly counted six of them, tables and chairs tossed on their sides around them as they had clearly been rifling through. She snapped the bolt back on the rifle, firing smoothly into the chest of a bandit still staring back in shock. It hit with a dull thud, and they gave a groan, clutching at their chest. They raised their own small pistol, but she dived out of the way before it fired, avoiding it by sinking behind an upturned couch.
A sharp glance to her left confirmed that Toby and Harris were both perched behind the long receptionist’s desk, and they had brought down another two of the bandits. A woman in a tattered jacket and jeans lay prone near Freda’s foot, her eyes glassy and open as a small knife gleamed in her open hand. Moving quickly, Freda snatched the knife up, thrusting it into her waistband as she peered around the corner. Aiming carefully, she let off another shot, slamming herself back behind the couch as she saw the barrel aimed at her head. It sank into the sofa with a loud judder of noise, shifting it just enough for Freda to panic and slide away from it. She leaned from the other side of the sofa this time, giving herself just enough time to narrow her eyes and fire a shot at the bandit’s leg. It hit squarely, and he gave a howl, limping as he twisted his body to shoot blindly in her direction.
Freda pulled back against the sofa, breathing hard as the floor around her was peppered with shots, her pulse almost painful with the speed it rushed against her skin. She gazed back over to Harris, who gave a cry of triumph as he managed to shoot down another bandit stood by the windows. She breathed in hard, making her head feel light as she primed herself to lean out again. Grasping her weapon tightly, Freda closed her eyes for a second, gritting her teeth, before rolling out onto the floor as flat as she could make herself. Propping her rifle against her shoulder as she had when hunting as a teenager, she took careful aim, and squeezed the trigger. There was a dull pop, and smoke spilled from the wrong of her gun. The bullet had misfired. The bandit gave a gleeful smile, aiming in return. “Shit!” Darting back behind the sofa, she hoped Toby and Harris could keep the bandits occupied while she dragged the magazine out and spilled the ruined casing of the bullet to the ground. Hand shaking as shots fired off somewhere close to her head, she delved into her pocket and snatched more bullets up, reloading the gun hastily. Slamming the magazine back into its slot, she rolled out again to the floor, squeezing the trigger hard. This time the shot flew true, and the bandit only had time to yell out as he watched the inevitable flying towards him. The bullet lodged itself deep inside the bandit’s head, and a thin line of red soaked against his temple as he staggered for a moment, before falling in an ungraceful heap. Five down, one to go.
Another shot from near Toby’s side confirmed that he had managed to shoot the last one. He let out a shuddering cry of distress, turning back and resting his head against the desk for a moment. Freda recognised that cry. It was the same one everyone made the first time they had to kill another human being. Not so much after you got used to it.
Easing herself to her feet, she dusted down her coat casually, sliding her rifle strap up onto her aching shoulder. She winced as she moved it, testing the muscle as she reached up to brush her loose hair out of her eyes. Nodding over to Toby, she gave him a thumbs-up. “Nice work.”
“Nice work?” Toby struggled to his feet, his head continually shaking from side to side. “I just…I just rescued you guys, then I shot one of them. I shot someone. I…killed them.” He looked down at the gun as though it might turn on him.
“Before they killed you,” Freda reminded him in an icy voice. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s how it is out here.”
The door behind them burst open, and Reilly and Emily ran into the lobby, both looking around with wide eyes. “We heard your voices,” Reilly explained. “Emily didn’t want to wait in there anymore.”
Everyone spun around sharply as they heard shouts in the distance outside, through the open double doors of the building. The light was gone, and night was already upon them. Harris turned to Toby, who clutched his sister tightly to his side when she broke away from Reilly’s hand, his mouth set in a grim line. “So, I know you said there’s no other way around, but is there? They know something’s wrong now—they’ve heard the gunshots, and seen the building. We have to get out of here.”
Toby ran a tongue over his lips, running a hand through his matted curls. Emily tugged hard at his sleeve, throwing her hand towards the door. “What about the tunnels? Can’t we go through them?”
Clarity spread over Toby’s face like a radiant beam, and he sighed in relief. “Yes, of course!” Racing across to the main doors, he peered over his shoulder and shouted back. “Follow me, there is another way. You can get into the city through the old sewer tunnels. The bandits don’t use them, and they’re perfectly safe.”
He vanished around the side of the building, and the others sprinted after him. He and his sister led the way down narrow streets and around collapsed buildings, but they could still hear the bandits catching up behind them. They must have guessed we’d gone a different way, Freda thought to herself grimly as she dared to look backwards the way they had come. She was right. They were still a good quarter-mile away, but the bandits could be seen chasing them, and they were closing the gap. She snatched up Reilly’s hand, pulling the struggling girl harder as she raced faster. “Come on!” she urged through gritted teeth, hating herself for putting Reilly through it. “It’ll only hurt for a moment, then we’ll be safe.”
Seeing the two women struggling, Harris reac
hed back and grabbed Reilly’s other hand, aiding her as her legs went full-pelt trying to match the speed of the two people either side of her. Freda looked forwards, searching for any sign they were almost there. Toby had paused over a large grating, and with Emily’s help, he was easing it open. She hoped the bandits wouldn’t follow them. Not knowing it led into the city.
Then Reilly gave a piercing cry, before sagging against Harris and herself.
One of the bandits gave a cheer in the distance.
It took Freda only a second to work out what had happened. As both she and Harris paused beside the grate, their lungs burning for the need of oxygen, she twisted Reilly around. A bullet was lodged inbetween her shoulder blades, and blood was pouring freely, soaking the back of her dress. Freda grasped her friend’s cheeks as Harris lifted her into his arms, anger and grief flooding her as she watched Reilly’s eyelids struggling to stay open. “Reilly, don’t you fucking die! Not yet, you hear me?”
“Want…you guys…I’m…okay.” Words tumbled brokenly from Reilly’s lips as she disappeared down the grating over Harris’ shoulder.
Freda let out a howl of anger, her emotions too charged, and her chest squeezing too painfully for her to cry. It wasn’t fair, that this was how Reilly left the world. In pain, and by the hand of some arsehole who didn’t care. Uncaring for own safety as more shots rang out, she raised her rifle and fired wildly towards the oncoming hoard of bandits, winging a few of them. Someone shouted her name from behind, but she ignored them. Her vision disappeared into a red mist, and she let off shot after shot, willing the bandits to come closer, to die by her hand for killing her friend.
Two strong arms latched around her from behind, and she felt herself being dragged backwards, the sky spinning as her perspective was knocked out of place. Kicking out and screaming with anger, she didn’t calm until she heard Harris’ soothing voice in her ear. “Later. We’ll come back for them later. Let’s get Reilly back.”
We Are The Few Page 21
