by D. S Mac
The shimmering reflective doors slid open with a very smooth, well-oiled whoosh. They entered. “Please stand back.” The doors slid shut; the two halves met with a light tap. “Going up.” The elevator lurched upwards, picking up speed. Within fifteen seconds, it came to a halt. The sudden change in speed lurched Drake’s stomach. As the door slid open, they each raised their guns. “Penthouse.” The AI’s voice was barely discernible over their three pounding hearts.
Sweat trickled around the corner of Drake’s eye. He raised his shoulder and wiped it away. He stepped from the elevator into a long, completely whitewashed corridor. Several doors were placed equally along both sides. Each led to what looked like offices, with computers at desks. Some had swivel chairs, while others had exercise balls. The only light inside was from the red standby LEDs on the monitors and the corridor’s fluorescents that leaked through the windows.
Halfway down, they could make out the acrylic sign protruding from the wall by the door at the end. It read ‘Dr B Forrest CEO’. Their progress was slow. Every room was carefully scouted through the windows before they moved up. Once they were happy that every office looked empty, they focused on Brendan’s office. Drake grabbed the handle, twisted and pushed. No movement. That was when he noticed the keypad by the acrylic sign. He released a deep sigh and turned to the others.
“Any idea…” The deafening crack of a gunshot interrupted him. His ears rang, and his hands instinctively went to cover them. “Fuck.”
Fergus stood there. Smoking gun raised. A sheepish smile spread across his face. “Sorry, probably should have said something first, aye.”
Hannah punched Fergus in the arm and gave him a look.
“If looks could kill. At least we can get in now.” Drake stepped back as Fergus pushed through and tried the handle again. The latch clicked, and the door was pushed open. Drake, whose ears were still ringing, raised his gun and stepped in with Fergus. A flicker of white neon burst into life as the sensors noticed movement. It was a large office with a huge beautiful handcrafted desk littered with paperwork and an extremely luxurious Vacheron Constantin watch. Compulsively clean and streak-free windows looked out upon London’s skyline.
They spent a few minutes looking around, to no avail. There was nothing of use here, no Brendan and no hints as to where he might be. Drake slammed a hand down on the desk. “Fuck.”
Fergus and Hannah jumped at the outburst.
“What do we do now?”
As Hannah was about to reply, the TV burst into life, showing a white screen.
“Well, well, well, three rats have come right to us.” Static flickered across the screen. “Not the smartest bunch, are you?”
“Who the fuck are you? Where is Brendan?” Drake stared at the television, both fists clenched tight. The handle of the Glock bit into his palm.
“Now, now, Mr Osborn, I suggest you calm down.” An image of a white corridor filled with heavily armed men flickered onto the screen. “As you can see, you’re in no position to be making demands. But if you must know, I am Henry Ryder, and I’m going to be the last person to see you alive.”
Drake’s face dropped. They were in trouble.
“Fuck me, I know we expected this, but…” Ferg threw his arms up. “We’re fucked.”
“Yes… yes, you are, Dr McCarthy. This time, you will not slip through our fingers.” The television faded to black. They could no longer see what was going on outside.
Drake watched as Hannah ran over to the door and gently pried it open. The corridor was lit up with deafening raucous gunfire. Hannah barely managed to dive back out of the way. Wood chippings from the frame showered her. Her face crimsoned with fear.
“Shit, too close. Anyone have any ideas?” She looked at Drake, panting, her eyes pleading for an answer.
Drake grinned. “You know, I may have an idea.”
Chapter 32 -Face off
Fear can hit anyone at any time. Some may react with cowardice and run or hide, while others will fight harder than they ever have before. What you do with that fear is what matters. Luckily, Drake was relatively battle-hardened. He was able to focus when the odds were stacked against them.
Drake walked away from Fergus and Hannah. He could feel their eyes on him, questioning his plan. He lifted a fire extinguisher from its hook and handed it to Fergus. He took it; frown lines of worry canvassed his forehead.
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
Drake shrugged. “It has to. Or we won’t be leaving here.” He slid up his sleeve, revealing the beautiful classic watch he’d borrowed from Brendan’s desk. It was a heavy piece and weighed his arm down. Especially considering he was not used to wearing watches. Fergus and Hannah did the same. Fergus sported an original Casio digital watch while Hannah had a slim rose gold one. “It’s almost midnight. As soon as we synchronise, I’ll slip through a fracture, and you know what to do.”
Both Fergus and Hannah nodded to Drake. They were ready.
Drake closed his eyes. From the depths of his mind, he willed forward his power. His arm was encompassed with pins and needles. He shuddered from the electric tingle down his spine. From behind his closed eyes, the vast blackness glowed, revealing blood vessels from his eyelids. He opened his eyes to a neon pulsing arm. He was ready. A fracture burst to life. The gravitational strength of the unexplained force pulled Drake off balance. With the momentum, he started to step through.
“Two minutes.” He glanced over at the wall clock. It read 12:00. He pushed the pin, and his voice faded as he became one with the temporal vortex.
Drake floated through the profane expanse. He could see, and he could feel. But his body was molecular, flowing through streams of energy man had yet to name. All around him, fractures shimmered like stars. Some zipped through the carpet of black like shooting stars. He felt serene, a strange sense of peace and belonging. No worries, no problems. Just himself at one with incredible energy. It would have been easy to lose one’s self here. It was paradise.
A fracture zipped past Drake’s molecular form. It threatened to pull him through, which snapped him out of the bliss. With mere seconds to spare, he was able to will it away and refocus on the task. He wondered how much time had passed. Did he have time to do what he needed to do? But he felt himself slipping away, falling back in line with the serenity.
“No! Fergus… Hannah. I’m coming…” With an enormous punch of willpower, he called forth a fracture. He knew where he needed to go. He knew when he needed to go. Out of the black, a fracture hurtled towards him. The shimmering mirror-like portal engulfed his form, and his mind went blank.
***
“How long has it been?” Fergus was pacing beside the door.
“One minute, Ferg, you ready?” Hannah held the fire extinguisher firmly hugged to her chest.
“Aye, but let’s swap. You’re likely a better shot than I am.” They swapped places.
“Twenty seconds.” Hannah reached for the handle and gave Fergus a determined look. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three.” She gripped the handle higher, raised the Glock and yanked the door open.
In one swift movement, Fergus swung the extinguisher through the door. Gunfire ripped into the door; splinters flew everywhere. Hannah dropped to her side, aiming through a gap no wider than ten centimetres. She lined up the shot and fired.
The extinguisher erupted into a cloud of white with a thundering crack. Screams from the heavily armed men filled the corridor. They slammed the door shut and hurried out of the way. Hannah slid down the wall onto her bottom, red-faced and sweating. Wood chippings had grazed several places on her cheeks.
“Let’s hope Drake is on time.”
***
Drake rematerialised in a small polished silver room. It took a few seconds for him to figure out it was the lift. It had worked. Luckily, the door was shut, so nobody would have seen the glowing portal on his reentry. The corner of his mouth curled up into a cocky smile that boosted his ego.
<
br /> “Let’s see how you like this.”
He thumbed the button with the open door sign, and they whooshed open. Fifteen men were in a frenzy. The corridor was engulfed in thick white mist. They were all in such a panic that no one had noticed him. Drake slipped the two Glocks out from his waistline. Stepped out of the elevator. Two men burst from the cloud. Their faces dropped with fear as they noticed Drake. He raised the Glocks and dropped both men with a bullet between the eyes. Red mist burst from their skulls. Fear was the last look their faces would ever show as their bodies dropped to their knees and cracked onto the floor face first.
Drake continued forward. He shot several more men as he casually strolled up the corridor. Thick blood splatters and brain matter painted the walls and floors. The confusion didn’t last long. The remaining ten men realised what was happening and started to open fire back down the corridor. Drake instinctively covered his face and broke into a run. He dropped into a slide. As he did so, two more men appeared through the cloud. He kneecapped them. Their shrill screams of agony were cut short with a shot to the head.
The fog started to clear, which was an advantage but also a disadvantage. He could see them. But no doubt they could see him too. Drake shot before they could react, some dived to the floor, and others collapsed after bullets ripped through their chests. Four left, Drake aimed. Click, click, click. He looked down at the Glocks, disappointed in himself for not counting his shots. The remaining four shouldered their assault rifles and pointed them directly at Drake’s head.
“Shit.”
The man furthest right dropped his weapon, which slung under his arm on a strap. He began to clap. The thunderous cracks shook Drake to the core. He had failed.
“Shit, indeed, Mr Osborn. A very clever trick you pulled there.”
“Just get it over with.”
The door behind the men quietly slipped open. Drake spotted Fergus and Hannah peering through. He quickly diverted his attention so they wouldn’t get spotted. “Go on! What are you waiting for? A kiss?”
“Mr Osborn, I must say, your attitude offends me.” Henry stepped forward and squatted next to Drake. “Dr Forrest will be so pleased we finally got you. He’s been rather angry, shall we say.”
From the corner of his eye, Drake saw his backup raising their guns. “I’m not surprised. You’re fucking useless.”
Henry throatily laughed. “Once we are done with you, I’m going to take your girlfriend to Forrest. Oh, the things he will do to her.” He licked his lips. “Goodbye, Mr Osborn.” He turned to the three men. “Kill him.”
Gunshots lit up the corridor, and Drake grinned. Confusion crossed Henry’s face as his three men dropped to the floor, blood pooling beneath them. Drake put all his force into a left hook and smashed his fist into Henry’s face. With a wet pop, his nose folded inwards, and he collapsed backwards. Drake jumped up, rammed a new mag into his Glock, and aimed it at Henry’s face. He cowered, holding his pulped nose.
“Please don’t. I was doing my job. Brendan would kill me.”
“Now, now, Henry, I suggest you calm down.” Drake knelt and pushed the gun against the side of his skull. “As you can see, you’re in no position to be making demands. Where is Brendan?”
Sweat coated Henry’s forehead. A violent shiver ran through his body. “I can’t. He’ll kill me.”
“I’ll fucking kill you.” Drake spun the gun around and smashed Henry on the cheek with a loud crack. The skin split open; blood gushed from the wound. “Where?”
“Ok… ok, he’s down on B1. There’s a key card in my pocket.”
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Ple—” Bang. His pleas were cut short by a close-range 9 mm boring through his skull. Ninety per cent of his brain turned to mush as it was forced from his skull, his eyes left forever open in shock.
Drake grabbed the key card and pushed himself to his feet. “That was a close one, thank you.”
Hannah ran into his arms. She almost knocked him off his feet. “You did it. That was amazing.” She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.
“Aaaah, not again.” Fergus threw his arms up and turned around.
Drake and Hannah laughed.
“Can’t you do that later? We got a world to save, you know?”
While staring into Drake’s eyes, she nodded back to Fergus. “He’s right, you know.”
Drake winked. “Later.” He took a step back and headed to the elevator. “B1 it is, then.”
Chapter 33 - Sub Level
Brendan hit redial. He had attempted to call Henry several times in the last few minutes. He paced the Faraday box as the ringtone jangled in his ear. He could feel himself being engulfed in anger. Why was Henry not answering? Had he failed yet again? The call went to the answerphone.
“Fuck.” He smashed the phone on the desk. The crack of glass and plastic rang out, amplified by the acoustics of the small room. Brendan repeatedly hammered the phone into the desk until all that was left was a husk of trailing cables and components left dangling over blackened score marks.
Brendan hobbled over to the viewing window. He pushed his thumb onto the intercom button so hard it went completely white.
“Dr Ashbury.” He waited impatiently for her to appear from the hive of activity. He finally spotted her climbing out of the central chamber. She looked up into his malicious eyes. “Begin…NOW.”
She fumbled, perhaps trying to think of a response. They were not quite ready, but it would have to do. Brendan watched as she receded into herself and nodded. Dr Ashbury called over a handful of the other doctors and fed out commands with several hand gestures.
Brendan sneered at his thoughts. Humankind had destroyed and persevered for too long. New world order would be created today, and he would embrace the new future. He would be a god amongst the select few. He would rebuild in his image. Humankind as we knew it would be over.
Foolish Dr Ashbury couldn’t even see through his plan. For such an exemplary leader in her field, she was blind. Blinded by what could be instead of what was. Brendan returned the computer to watch the different parameters being met. Firstly, the power needed to pull several gigawatts of electricity from the grid, but to do so without causing a blackout meant it had to be done slowly so that the grid had a chance to refill the gaps. It was at thirty per cent. The Penning trap was at full capacity and ready for antimatter insertion. For this experiment, they would use antihydrogen. The gas itself would appear the same as standard hydrogen until the proton pulse was engaged. That was when the exciting bits would happen.
Brendan watched as the antihydrogen was injected into the Penning trap. Brendan could not hear it from there, but he knew that the clear cylindrical chamber would be humming a dissonant tune from the electromagnetism. The machine-like whirring would be enough to send a shiver down anyone’s spine. He checked the energy levels. Sixty per cent and rising. Excitement and pleasure warmed through Brendan. It was impossible not to feel excited about his plans coming to fruition.
A voice burst through the intercom, which set his ageing heart off. He felt each thud pulsing through his ears, the pressure threatening a headache.
“Dr Forrest, everything is set. As soon as power levels are full, we shall begin,” came Dr Ashbury’s voice.
Brendan rubbed his temples in a circular motion with his thumbs. “Or end, you might say, Doctor… or end.” A last glance over at the screen showed Brendan that energy levels were at ninety-nine per cent. “And so it begins.”
A gnarled smile that could easily be mistaken for a grimace spread across his face. He stood back up and made his way to the viewing window. With one last look around, drinking in his success, he thumbed the intercom. “Begin, Doctor.” He found her amongst the crowd.
She gave a curt nod, looked down at her keyboard and pressed a button.
The proton pulser growled and whistled as the beam of protons was blasted from its muzzle. Brendan shielded his eyes from the ph
osphorus glow. Metallic grinding resonated, even through the Faraday box. As the blinding light began to waver, he unshielded his face. A swirling mess of technicolour, not unlike a galaxy, was wavering where the antihydrogen once sat.
He noticed a bustle of panic from the scientists downstairs. This, to them, was not meant to happen. But Brendan knew better. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the beautiful creation. Dr Ashbury’s voice came through the intercom. It was full of anxiety.
“Dr Forrest, I… I don’t know what’s happening. We can’t shut it down.”
He pulled his eyes away and found Dr Ashbury. Even from here, he could see she was visibly shaking. The pure fear in her eyes excited him even more. Brendan raised a hand. He waved and smiled. “Goodbye, Doctor.”
Another burst of magnesium light pulsed. The Penning trap crumpled; the tinny crunching of metal grinding on metal filled the room. Every piece of equipment followed suit, crushed by a thousand tonnes of invisible pressure and sucked through into an infinite void. The scientists were mangled amongst the mess. Some were squashed so fast they morphed into floating puddles of biological waste, while the ones farther away were dissected in pieces. The invisible forces ripped off hands, feet or heads at a time. The lab would have been a bloodbath had there not been a vacuum. A third burst of brilliant white light followed. When Brendan was able to look again, the sight made him let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stood there with wide eyes, mouth fully open. Everything had worked, and Drake was too late. A shimmering fracture floated in the centre of the room; its blood-red glow lit up what was left of the lab.
Chapter 34 - Negative Fracture
After the doors slid shut, a slight judder shook the cabin as the elevator began its descent. The automated voice rang out with its programmed statements. Drake barely heard them, as he was lost in thought. He stood behind the others. A glance over at Fergus, and he couldn’t help but think of their ridiculous journey, one that would ultimately lead to stopping a full-blown cataclysm. They had come so far since being shot at on the streets of London.
