by Haywood, RR
They all looked at each other, frowning in puzzlement. ‘You told us, Neal,’ Donegal said. ‘We release A and the world ends.’
‘Not the blasted virus! This! The project. The scientists. Why do this?’
‘Gentlemen,’ Alexander said, addressing the other two. ‘Perhaps now might be a good time for me to talk with Dr Barrett.’
‘Aye. You do that, Alexander,’ Donegal said, getting to his feet as he winked at me. ‘Glad you’re with us though, Neal. We’ll need bean counters in the new world, eh?’
‘You can make the cheese and mayo sandwiches,’ Hussein added as they clapped my shoulders and headed off.
Silence followed as the door closed. Sealing me inside with Alexander.
‘We needed a true reaction,’ he said after a while.
‘Reaction to what? You’ve already made your minds up.’
Alexander shrugged. ‘They’re scientists. They like testing things. I said it’s pointless, but there we are. They wanted to see the reactions of their peers. And it was meant to be Donegal in favour of A, and Hussein in favour of C, but they swapped over at the last minute. They thought there might be a racial or religious tone if Hussein said he wanted to kill seven billion people.’
‘But it’s fine for a Scotsman.’
‘Apparently so,’ he replied with a smile at the humourless joke.
‘And you?’ I asked. ‘How are you involved in this?’
He shifted and thought for a second. ‘Professor Donegal is good friends with a British minister. Alistair Appleton. You have heard of him? I think everyone has heard of him. Donegal reached out to Alistair when they realised what they had. Alistair reached out to me. Neal. May I call you Neal? Neal, this is a very exclusive club, but both Donegal and Hussein wanted you on board very much. Your expertise will literally shape the new world. It will guide our decisions so that we can be a better society. We want to learn from the mistakes of humanity. We need to know how we are best served to protect our immunes and help re-grow our populations once the culling is complete.’
I could hardly believe my ears and I wondered how many times he had given that same speech. But I suddenly stopped and realised what he’d said. ‘Immunes?’ I asked.
‘Yes. The people with immunity. C only targets 98-99% remember. The survivors will be the building blocks for our new world.’
‘Building blocks?’
‘Well of course. Once we’ve gathered them all together and commenced an effective breeding programme. That’s where your expertise will come in.’
‘I’m a statistician!’
‘Exactly! You of all people know how to manage populations. For instance. Which country do you favour?’
‘What?’
‘My view, personally, is that we remain in Europe. Germany for instance. It has a fantastic infrastructure. Should we base our new world there do you think?’
‘What?’
‘We’d been in reach of France. Spain. Italy and other countries. Ha! But listen to me. Still thinking like the old order. We wouldn’t even call it Germany! We could rename the whole of the European landmass to one entity. How about that? Then we decide where to populate. How to populate. And, of course, everything is owned by everyone.’
‘You mean communism.’
‘No! Our hardest workers will get rewards. And we’ll encourage free trade. As long as it is controlled and managed of course. No weapons. None at all. Apart from personal defence. And sanctioned military and law enforcement. But the hospitals. We won’t need them will we. Or the drug stores. I say, what do you think about the use of recreational drugs?’
‘What?’
‘We’re split. I think we should allow them. I mean. They can’t cause physical harm can they. We’ll have the Panacea by then. But perhaps the psychological impact is something to worry about. We’ll have to monitor that one. But yes. Yes, you are right, Neal. No drugs within the breeding programme. We only want the best. And the best education too. But then we still need workers. Manual labour will still be needed. Ha! They can’t all be geniuses like you and I, Neal.’
‘What the fuck.’ I rarely swear, but right then that phrase seemed the most fitting. The man was crazy. Deluded even. ‘And Donegal? Hussein? They agree with you?’
‘Oh, we have great discussions! I can’t wait for you to join in. Hey! We could even name a university after you! The Neal Barrett school of excellence! How about that?’
I was wrong. It wasn’t just Alexander. They were all deluded.
‘How are you going to get them all together?’
‘Who? The immunes? We’ll gather them up and get them to where they need to be. The infrastructure still remains, don’t forget. And we’re actively sourcing protected skill sets to be within the safe zones when the culling starts.’
‘And what if these immune people don’t want to be gathered up?’
‘Why wouldn’t they? They’re the new race in our new world order. They’ll be chomping at the bit to get stuck in. They’ll all be living in mansions and driving luxury cars. Ah no. Donegal thinks that’s a bad idea. He said they’ll get lazy and they should earn what they have. No freeloaders in the new order. I know, right,’ he said at my expression. ‘I can see you are excited, Neal. I can see your brain spinning away with ideas. And between you and I,’ he said, leaning in with a wink. I knew what was coming and I prayed that he didn’t say it. ‘We’ll have the pick of the bunch. Our sperm should definitely be involved in the breeding programme. I mean. We’re at the top of our food chains already. What do you fancy? Blondes? Brunettes? Oh! You like black women. Camilla. Of course. Say no more. The first ones in from Africa are yours. No. I won’t hear any more about it. They’re yours. No need to thank me. They’ll be ripe too. I’ve got a thing for Thai girls personally. The slanted eyes and lithe bodies. Thailand is mine haha! But we can swap. It’s fine. Swapping is fine.’
I think the greatest fear came upon me at that point right there. Because I’d assumed there was a strong organisation behind it all. But there wasn’t. This was a horny Hitler dreaming of boat loads of young Thai women who of course would all welcome his sexual advances. Within the space of a few minutes he’d mentioned slavery. Brutality. Class structures. Forced work camps and assigned compulsory living sections with higher education reserved only for the best. Rewards for the hardest workers and forced manual labour.
This wasn’t communism. This was a bizarre totalitarianism, and in a way, the future he painted within those few words was far worse than the one I predicted if A was released. At least A allowed some element of free will. It allowed some hope. This allowed for none of that. They weren’t culling for utopia. They were culling to keep the best for themselves.
‘You’ll like this,’ he then said with a click of his fingers. I looked over at him, but my head moved too slowly. Like I was stuck in a dream. He swung a laptop about and flipped the screen up. Delight was on his face. He even hummed as he took a memory stick from a pocket and popped it into the USB port while I watched on. Feeling sick to the core. Feeling more trapped than ever before.
‘There,’ he announced and proudly spun the computer about for me to see the screen filled with a spreadsheet of sorts. Names on a list. Hundreds of them. Thousands even. The scroll bar at the side was tiny.
‘What is that?’ I asked.
‘Those,’ he said with a grin. ‘Are the immunes. And remember. These are immune to C. Not to A. They can still receive the Panacea. We’ll break them down eventually into regions and ages and so forth. That will help with the breeding programme. I was even thinking we could attach images eventually. You know. So we can see what they look like in advance. Like a dating site. That sort of thing. But yes. We’re accessing medical records to identify those with a certain genetic structure. Our access is unprecedented actually. Hospital records. Prison records. Military records. Pretty good eh? Ha! I knew you’d like that.’
Again, I couldn’t speak, and for a moment I wondered how the he
ll they’d gotten so much access. But they have a cure for all known diseases. You offer that to anyone, and they’ll give you anything you want. Access to anything at all, including secret underground mountain facilities.
‘I er. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed, actually.’
‘You do look a bit pale,’ he said and turned the computer back to shut it down and pocket the memory stick. ‘But of course. A lot to take in. Dr Chirabati was the same. She took a good few days to get over the shock. We gave her some sleeping pills. I’ll ask Camilla to bring some to your room,’ he added with a grin and another wink. ‘Come on. I’ll show you back up. You look ready to pass out.’
‘When can I go home?’
‘Soon. But not yet. We’ll let the project run its course and see if we can’t convert a few more to our side. You can help with that actually. Get mingling and talking to people. Once you’re up and about again that is. Then, sadly, we’ll have to work out the best method of dealing with those that don’t agree with us.’
We were walking back when he said that and I stopped to look as he winced while behind him, through the windows, I could see the rabid beasts attacking their cages and tanks in the section marked C.
‘I know,’ he said heavily. ‘But maintaining secrecy is vital. I don’t need to tell you that.’
We hit the stairs and started going up, but my legs felt heavy and solid. My chest felt too tight. My whole world had been skewed.
‘Give it a week or two I say,’ he added.
I couldn’t stay here another day, let alone another week.
‘But now you’re one of us you can come down in the evenings and have a few drinks. and join in with the discussions on how we’re going to build our new world. Maybe get stuck into sorting those names out for us. You could start with the African women.’
We reached his office and it all seemed so desperate and cobbled together. The way the secret door was hidden in his wood panelled office, but anyone could see through the windows.
The way he talked about it all too. The way Donegal and Hussein were playing with people to get them to choose. The stress being caused. The arguments. The fights. The plans for slavery and hearing him talking about sorting the names out as though I would be choosing invites for a party.
It was too much. The Panacea existed. The zombie virus existed, and seven billion people were going to die. But the biggest crushing fear was that I had to stay there for another two weeks.
‘Get some rest, Neal,’ he patted me on the back and walked me to his office door.
I stepped out and saw I was behind the counter. Camilla was there. She turned to look at me and blanched at the expression on my face. Albert was on the other side of the counter. Sweeping up after fixing a light socket. Scientists were still shouting and arguing.
‘You agree with me, Hussein! I know you do,’ Donegal shouted from somewhere. Back to playing his role. Back to playing games. But it felt so closed in. So very closed in. I thought I would die right there. I thought my heart was going to give out.
‘Neal?’ Camilla said, staring at me strangely. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I agree with the science yes!’ Hussein shouted back. ‘But not with the method. Convince me. Tell me how it is right to kill seven billion people.’
I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t. My chest. It was so tight. I couldn’t breathe.
‘Neal!’ Camilla said.
‘I think perhaps Dr Barrett is somewhat exhausted,’ Alexander said.
‘It’s real,’ I whispered.
‘Come now, Dr Barrett. Let’s get you to your room,’ Alexander said, taking my arm but I pulled away.
‘It’s real,’ I said again. Louder this time. ‘IT’S BLOODY REAL!’
‘Neal!’ Camilla said. I saw Albert staring at me. The guards too. Someone else stopped and looked over. One of the other scientists, but I couldn’t process that or anything else. My mind was unravelling. My heart was beating too fast. The dread I’d felt building inside was rushing up.
‘THE PANACEA IS REAL,’ I yelled out. ‘I’VE SEEN IT. THEY’RE RELEASING C!’ I couldn’t cope. I couldn’t deal with it. With the manipulation. With the stress. With being played. ‘IT’S REAL! THEY WANT TO MAKE EVERYONE SLAVES!’
‘Neal,’ Alexander said, lunging at me. ‘Shut your mouth.’
‘Get off me,’ I said, pulling away from him, but I moved too hard and fell against the counter, sending papers and stationary flying. ‘IT’S REAL! IT’S REAL!’ I yelled out, trying to right myself but I floundered into a chair as Camilla tried to help me, but in my mind, she was one of them so again I wrenched free.
‘Neal!’ Donegal shouted. ‘Whatever’s wrong with you?’
‘YOU!’ I screamed out, pointing at him then at Hussein behind him. ‘AND YOU! THEY’RE WORKING TOGETHER! HUSSEIN MADE THE VIRUS. AND AND…AND CHIRABATI. SHE KNOWS TOO. THEY ALL KNOW.’
‘The wee fella’s having a breakdown,’ Donegal said.
‘DOWN THERE. DOWN THE STAIRS. THEY HAVE TEST SUBJECTS. IT’S REAL. I’VE SEEN IT.’
My mind was gone. The fear and stress had reached breaking point, and, as I said, the foremost issue for me right at that point was not the genocide or the planned slavery. It was simply that I had to get out. Camilla tried to calm me. Donegal shouted for me to get a grip. Hussein even tried to come closer. Alexander too. More guards were running in, but I shouted. Oh, I shouted everything I could think of. ‘They have names! Immune people on a list. He wants the Thai women. They’re going to make everyone into slaves. It’s real! The Panacea is real. And this… This is to make you believe in culling.’
‘Alexander,’ Donegal said. ‘You need to calm him down. Give him a sedative.’
It wouldn’t be sedative. I knew that. I’d be killed. Or worse, I’d be one of the human test subjects and turned into a mouth-frothing beast. I think that’s when the panic attack really took hold. When Alexander tried to rush at me.
I don’t recall exactly what happened. My memory of it is patchy. I do know I threw a chair at Alexander, perhaps some other items too. I also know everyone was shouting my name. However, even in the midst of that breakdown, I observed, with rather surprising lucidity, that several scientists were listening very intently and calling out to let me speak. I also remember seeing Albert watching me with a very strange expression.
Then some of the guards rushed in and gripped my arms. I thrashed wildly and Camilla shouted at them to let me go. She even tried to intervene, but they shoved her away.
‘Get your hands off him!’ she told them and tried again, but it was to no avail. There were too many of them.
‘Take him down,’ Alexander ordered.
‘Down where?’ someone shouted. One of the other scientists.
‘IN HIS OFFICE. THE ENTRANCE IS IN HIS OFFICE,’ I screamed. Then a great hubbub went up when another guard rushed behind the counter clutching a syringe with a needle exposed at the end. I went wild with panic and fear, but that only made them use more force to keep me still. One of them even punched me in the belly, which made me gag and wheeze as Camilla yelled louder. I was hit again and forced over the counter as the needle jabbed into my backside. Everyone was rushing over. Everyone was screaming out.
‘NOW, FRANK!’ I remember hearing Camilla’s voice and wondered why she was yelling at her uncle.
Then I saw Albert take the cut throat razor from his pocket and walk up behind one of the guards and slit his throat. I saw it happen. I saw Albert simply bring his hand forward and sweep it across the man’s neck. Severing the jugular with blood spraying out. The guy gasped and tried to move, but Frank had already gripped the pistol in the guard’s holster and yanked it free before shoving the dying guard away. Then he turned and shot the other guard through the head.
A great scream went up at the loud gunshot, then suddenly the weight of those pinning me down was gone and I fell backwards to see Camilla attacking the guards.
She’d grabbed the one trying to inject me and thr
ust the syringe into his eye then hit the base hard with her palm, driving it into his socket. His eye popped. The man screamed and fell away as she twisted on the spot and kicked into the leg of another and slammed his face down hard on the counter.
It was all so fast. So very fast, but perhaps the half a dose of whatever drug they’d got into me made my mind slow enough to take it all in. Bits of it anyway. Like flashbacks, I guess. I saw Camilla fighting like she was someone from a movie. She’s not a big woman at all, but she was dropping men twice her size with apparent ease. Punching them in the throat and driving her knee into their groins. I saw her break an arm and get in position to pull a pistol from a guard’s holster.
Alexander lunged at her from behind at that point. He got her into a bear hug, but she threw her head back and broke his nose. He grunted and fell over me, spraying blood over my face while the air filled with screams and gunshots.
I don’t know why I did it, but right at that second, with all of that going on, I reached into Alexander’s pocket and took the memory stick containing the names of the immunes.
The next thing I know I was being dragged across the lobby floor by Camilla and saw Albert pistol whipping Alexander hard in the head.
‘TELL THEM TO OPEN THIS DOOR!’ Albert yelled at him. Then he aimed into the mass of terrified scientists and shot Dr Chirabati in the leg before aiming at Alexander again.
I blacked out again. I don’t know. Then I recall smelling smoke and hearing the screams growing louder.
‘I’LL BURN YOU ALIVE!’ Albert shouted.
Then it was cold. So very cold and I was being forced to my feet. ‘Neal! You have to run,’ Camilla shouted into my face. We were outside in the access corridor. Outside of the facility. I glanced back through the door to see bodies lying here and there and flames licking up behind the reception counter.
A moment later. Maybe an hour. Maybe a day. I have no clue, but we were outside in the biting wind and there were more dead bodies bleeding in the snow.
