Dead Beat

by Remy Porter

  Throwing back the bed sheets there was nothing to see. Sighing, I knew I was out of time. There was a jacket on the floor, one of Trent’s combat style affairs. Going through the pockets my fingers felt a plastic bag. Bringing it into the light I saw a name, YALE. At the bottom, like a little silver tadpole, was a spare key. I dropped the padlock to the floor and yanked the cabinet door. It was empty.

  Trent must keep his weapons locked in here, I thought. Safe habits, or perhaps just keeping them out of my hands. I’d never got the Glock back after I dropped it in the tunnel. I was about to close the cabinet door and swept my hand over the top shelf, not expecting to find anything. But there was something. I slipped it off the shelf; a photograph, a group of military types standing and kneeling to fit in the frame. Nearly everyone held a gun in their hands and wore a mishmash of clothes. No one person in the same uniform. Alice and Trent were standing together on the second row. Their faces were blank, staring into the distance. Written on the bottom of the photograph was one word in red, Ragnorak. I knew what I had to do now.

  CHAPTER 37

  It was sunny outside. The sausages sizzled on the disposable barbeque Alice had found. I turned them, making room for my burger. The two of us sat on a platform high on the rig, barren paint-chipped metal surrounding us as if we were in the palm of some giant colossus. A huge cylinder behind acted as a break from the insistent north-westerly winds. My eyes relaxed looking out over the rolling sea.

  ‘Will Trent be joining us?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s busy at the moment I think, doing his thing down below. Told me he was making real progress with the bodies, that he’s close to clearing the last clusters,’ her hand playing with her hair, a new nervous tick.

  ‘That’s nice,’ I answered. ‘So what did you two do again after university?’

  ‘Oh I don’t know, travelled a lot. Took our share of shitty jobs. You know the usual Johnny. Why are you digging again?’

  ‘Just passing the time,’ I said.

  Nothing was going to be achieved with simple conversation, I knew that. Looking at Alice I didn’t see laughter lines or a kindly manner anymore; there was something beneath that. It was her hands that gave her away. Hard calluses and dry skin. I felt them when she held my hand. There was a fighter hidden behind her sweet face, a whole life beyond idle chat around a smoking barbeque.

  ‘I forgot something,’ I lied. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Closing the watertight door behind me, I ran, falling round corners and bouncing off walls all the way to Engineering. Trent’s kit bag lay next to the door. He used it to carry his precious guns here before each trip down. I rooted through the zip pockets, and found what I wanted.

  The spare Glock had a full magazine, I pressed off the safety catch and started through the din of the engine rooms. Ungainly, I climbed over the barrier of furniture, nearly losing the gun when the filing cabinet tipped and crashed over. So much for the surprise.

  Passing through the tunnel, I eyed the body of the girl carefully, congealed blood around her crumpled form sticky under the soles of my boots. On the other side I looked out across an unfamiliar network of walkways and stairs. Trent was here somewhere. I wondered if he was watching me now. Taking the first steps down, I came to a smaller, rusted walkway, the heat and the noise intensifying as if we were inside of one giant engine. There was a circular hole, a metal ladder going twenty feet down. The lights were flickering and dim. I thought it was empty, but I wasn’t sure.

  By halfway down, I knew I was an idiot, even before the hand grabbed my ankle and sent me flat onto my back. Dazed and winded, I stared into an angry face, spittle caught and hanging on the edge of his lips.

  ‘What the fuck were you thinking?’ Trent said. ‘Where the hell is Alice?’

  ‘I’m ...’ I managed, before he dragged me to my feet and pulled me into a side room. I’d lost the gun.

  ‘It’s not safe out there, you shouldn’t have come.’

  I looked around and found my feet again. There was a bank of dead computers all along one side of the room. Another larger table at the far end sat next to a swivel leather chair. On the table was a laptop and a cable leading off, connecting to the mains. Trent’s water canteen and favourite brand of nuts were on the table too. This was his workstation. I walked towards it, and felt Trent’s hand grab my sleeve.

  ‘What’s with the laptop, Trent? I thought all the communications were dead?’

  ‘Just games. I come down here for some peace and quiet.’

  In the window behind Trent, I saw a body shuffling closer. A woman in life, perhaps a cleaner or cook for the rig, who knew? Torn and rotten, she hadn’t noticed us yet.

  Pulling away from Trent, I marched up to the laptop. Pressing a key, it asked for a password. Above it in red letters read Ragnorak. ‘What does this all mean Trent?’

  ‘It means you shouldn’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong,’ he answered, the Glock now pointing at my head.

  ‘I know it translates as apocalypse, Trent, I just don’t know why you and Alice need a code word. I saw the picture as well; I know you’re not tourists. So that begs the question … who the hell are you really Trent?’

  ‘You’re a long way from your jurisdiction, Johnny. I don’t have to answer your prissy questions,’ Trent said, gun hand tense.

  ‘I don’t think you come down here to play games, Trent. I don’t see you as a game player at all. No, you’re using this to talk to somebody. Do you know something about how this happened?’ I said, a half-step closer.

  ‘Going to your grave not knowing, I wonder if in the afterlife you’ll sit there frustrated?’

  The gun twitched, sweat beaded on Trent’s top lip. I braced myself, my muscles tensed. The window exploded behind and the shot went wide. The woman sent Trent spinning off balance. Heavy set, she had him pinned to the ground. I kicked his gun hand and evened the fight. The Glock spun into space, fingers broken. Trent tried to wrestle her head away, but she was good. She’d done this before. ‘Help me!’

  Looking down, I shouted at him, ‘What did you do?’ But too late, his neck was open. Trent’s blood was a fountain to the ceiling. I reached for a weapon, blood slippery underfoot. The woman turned to me, preferring the living to the dead. At point blank range, I decorated the blood-red walls with her brains. Bagging Trent’s other weapons and his laptop, I was out before any more bodies traced the sounds. There was one person left who would answer my questions.

  CHAPTER 38

  ‘Where did you get to?’ she said. ‘Thought I’d have to send out a search party.’

  I stood in front of Alice, the gun bag stashed away. Part of me wondered what I must look like. Could I simply smile and hide everything that had just happened? The blood washed out, but I felt death had soaked into me. I watched the rich laughter lines spread across her face. I tried to mirror her.

  ‘Making tea. You thirsty, Johnny?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Gasping.’

  She arranged three mugs on the counter. Tea for Alice and me, the coffee for Trent. It was a waste.

  ‘I thought we could defrost the gammon from the freezer. It will help us use up the pineapple can you opened.’

  ‘Sure, why not,’ I answered. ‘Where has Trent got too?’

  ‘He promised he would be back by three. Must have found something that needs his special attention.’

  ‘Quite the hunk your man, isn’t he?’

  ‘He can scrub up. Shame I don’t have a sister to introduce you to. Do you get a bit lonely, Johnny? The oil rig gooseberry?’

  ‘Alice, I need to ask you a few things.’

  ‘Trent will be here soon, he’s better with the question stuff,’ she answered.

  ‘Alice,’ I said, snapping her attention back. ‘I need to know how you really ended up here.’

  ‘I told you already, we were tourists. We found a boat, we were lucky to get away,’ she answered, a nervous look at the door.

  ‘He’s not
coming Alice, so please stay focused. Time for the truth.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s got into you today. What do you mean about Trent?’ She started to walk for the door.

  ‘Alice, this isn’t a game. I want the truth,’ I repeated, grabbing the crook of her elbow and turning her.

  ‘What the hell ... I am going to find Trent. You can’t stop me.’

  ‘I saw the picture, Alice. You’re not a tourist. Start from the beginning.’

  ‘You ever play paintball, Johnny?’

  A pause and then she dashed for the door. I dived and made an awkward tackle. We both sprawled to the floor, my shoulder slamming into the door frame. Blinding pain.

  ‘Proud of yourself Johnny?’ I heard her say. ‘Hitting girls.’

  ‘Get up and go and sit down,’ I said, straightening up. I saw the screwdriver before I felt the pain, a two inch point in her hand. She made two puncture wounds before I even got chance to react. ‘Bitch!’

  A knuckle popped as I drove it into her nose. It flattened to one side, an ugly squash. Alice’s eyes rolled back, and she fell in a heap. My hand went instinctively to my side, hot, red blood flowing out. I grabbed an old towel off the canteen worktop and pressed it hard into the wound. The rag was instantly crimson.

  Alice began to stir on the canteen floor, moaning and gurgling with the blood in her throat. Taking her hair, I dragged Alice back to her chair. My blood pooled at my feet as I took the cord strips out of my pocket and tied her down. I’d known from leaving Trent this would be my only way to get the truth. Never expected to get stabbed though.

  ‘Wake the fuck up,’ I shouted, slapping her cheek.

  ‘What the fuck did you do, Johnny?’ Her voice was distorted by a nasal slur.

  ‘I’m asking the questions. The group in the picture, who are you?’

  ‘I wanna speak to a lawyer,’ she said with a defiant smile. The lines working, despite the damage. ‘The wounds will kill you, Johnny. You should let me take a look.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘You should work more on that interrogation technique, Officer Silverman.’

  The next slap broke the skin on the corner of her mouth. ‘You need to start giving me something.’ The effort made me dizzy.

  ‘Trent will be here soon,’ she answered. ‘You better be ready to run.’

  ‘Trent is ... somewhere safe. But, I can assure you that he won’t be making your three o’clock appointment. However, if you give me something then I might consider feeding him later. Ragnorak? Let’s start with that.’

  Her eyes narrowed, she stared me out, a different person. ‘Ragnorak was a code name for the end. Stupid name if you ask me.’

  ‘So the government knew about this disease before it happened? Are they all in bunkers?’

  ‘You really don’t get it do you, Johnny? We’re not the government, Johnny. They were caught with their pants down same as everyone else. We are independent of anybody’s rule. We did this for our planet, Johnny.’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about? No one could make the whole world turn upside down. You want me to believe you and those people in the picture did all this?’

  ‘Tip of the iceberg,’ Alice said, a blood bubble coming out the side of her broken nose. ‘Ragnorak was the name for a collective of people who believed in global warming. Global groups with similar concerns talking through internet forums, nothing wrong with that. But, out of that came the militant side, the ones that never believed the governments would ever give more than lip service to the boiling of our world, Johnny. We thought there would never be change until it was far too late. That the people of this earth would continue to belch out carbon dioxide like it was going out of fashion. I’ve never been what you would call a people person, deep down, Johnny.’ She laughed and grimaced.

  ‘How the hell can a bunch of environmentalist freaks cause the nightmare I’ve been living for the last six months?’

  ‘We had a scientist; his name was Hilton. He made something that we could put in the water. I don’t know how but it worked on the neuro-system. It shut down organs, ruined people’s brains. We were told it would kill people who drank it, end them cleanly, with no pain. It was designed to be invisible, to pass through water treatment works into people’s taps undetected. Somewhere along the line, it must have mutated, or maybe someone wanted this to happen all along. There were thousands of activist cells all over the world, people who really care about the world. Trent and I were part of a team of four who attacked a water works on a coast. Unfortunately, by morning we were fighting zombies to survive, the other two in the group turned into those things. We were given injections; promised we would be immune. Placebos, I guess. Trent found the rig for us to wait it out, ready to start the world again. We did it to save the future, Johnny.’

  ‘You killed everyone I loved, Alice. How are you going to make that right again?’

  ‘There can’t be any going back, Johnny. There will be enough people left to start again, but global warming will end. The planet will be safe for the future. No more selfish destruction.’

  ‘You’ve killed billions of people, Alice,’ I said, woozy now. ‘There’s nobody left to thank you.’

  ‘When I die, my conscience will be clean. How is your conscience, Johnny? I’ve heard you talk about your wife in your sleep. Kateyana was it ... what happened to her?’

  ‘She died, like nearly everyone else.’ It was a brush off. In my mind, I could see the bath.

  ‘I told you everything, Johnny. Get Trent here from wherever you’re holding him. Show me that he is safe,’ she said, in tears now.

  ‘One more thing first,’ I said, putting Trent’s laptop on the table. ‘Is this how your cells communicate?’

  I jogged down the corridor, a blood-sodden bandage wrapped tight around my middle. Trying to focus, I stopped to look at a wall map, finding where I was in the maze of levels and walkways. My bloodied fingers traced a path to the room I wanted. The Emergency Room, an apt description I thought. Jogging on I hoped to find a life raft, someway to return to the mainland. I couldn’t live with a woman who would undoubtedly kill me, or alone where madness would creep up and have me whole. Better to go back, feel the earth under my feet again. The rig was a mirage, a stilted nightmare. I wanted no part of it anymore.

  The door opened, and I fumbled for the light switch. The sidelights came on casting out red gloom. Main lights seemed inoperable. I moved past the hanging all-weather rubber suits, baggy wet suits for the workers who had to work outside in the lashing North Sea weather. Next to one of the lockers I found one of the things I’d come for, a packaged inflatable life raft. I tried it for weight, heavy but moveable. On the packaging, it warned it would explosively inflate. I dragged it out to the centre of the room, and started to pile in the things I would need.

  The door into the room slammed open making me jump. A body crashed in, more running than walking. It was moving faster than any zombie I’d seen before. I hurled a metal locker over and ran around the corner of the room. There was no way through, a painted breezeblock wall and no door. In my confusion, I couldn’t even remember where I’d left the Glock. The body snarled its way nearer, I recognised it now in the harsh light. The wound in Trent’s neck was still raw and fresh, the black eyes and dead skin showed life’s spark had snuffed out. He bared his teeth and sprang for me.

  No time to react, he barrelled into me. Trent bounced me off the wall and drove me painfully off my feet. Strong in death, as he had been in life, Trent over-powered my arms and looked to sink his teeth in. I brought my knee up full force and caught his head with a glancing blow. I staggered up as Trent recouped and came again. Kicking out, I missed, then blindly ran up one side of the room. Trent was so fast, he was already ahead, blocking the exit. He lunged in again, teeth snapping next to my face, breath rank. My fist found his face, my knuckles screaming with pain. I might as well have been hitting a shop mannequin for all the effect it had.

  My breaths were
getting shorter, insides not right, punctured and broken. I faced him again, my hands pushing his mouth up from under his chin, trying to keep his mouth closed. We rotated in the centre of the room, our dance of death. My strength was fading, time for me to give up. Would we stumble back to where Alice sat tied up, each taking turns to pick her bones clean?

  My vision was in and out, the light more black than red. Buckling, I fell back with Trent on top of me. The objects felt familiar, my hand reaching out and grasping a plastic cylinder. My other hand was slipping from his jaw. Trent forced his mouth down towards me, an open chasm trying to swallow me whole. I forced the cylinder upwards into his mouth. Pulling the toggle, Trent’s mouth erupted into a volcanic show, a supernova of burning light. The fire from the flare took his head, and I crawled away.

  The flailing creature that was Trent flung itself around the room, clothing alight. I ran back out into the corridor, hit a fire alarm for sprinklers, but no water came. Fire quickly spread to the ceiling. I ran down the corridor, licking flames following. Around a corner, three dead bodies. They found a purpose and moved towards me. Trent must have dislodged the barriers.

  Changing direction, I ran for an external door. Cold air hit my face, as behind me I heard the shatter of glass, yellow flames spreading over the super-structure. Another explosion, close enough that I felt the metal walkway under my feet move and start to give way. At the edge, I found the steps down. There was no time left.

  Trying to climb down the ladder the dizziness gripped, and then I was falling. The shock of the water woke me, and I flailed to resurface in the freezing sea, drawing breath as the rig burned above like a Roman candle. Somewhere inside the fire Alice was burning too, for her sins and what she did to us all. I paddled slow backstrokes away towards the night horizon. Directionless, I had no idea where the land lay. Too far anyway. I knew these would be my last hours.