by Robin Crumby
“Now, why don’t we start again. You say you know nothing about the Professor or the scientists you were travelling with. That you’d just met them, that you hadn’t spoken much. Okay, let’s say that’s true. Then why don’t you tell me why they brought you along in the first place. You were in the APV which makes you important somehow. But from what you’re telling me, it sounds like you’re a bit of a fifth wheel, Riley. In which case, we don’t need you either. If I was you, I’d start talking. You might live longer.”
“I told you already, I was brought along as an observer. To keep an eye on the men. Most of these guys are in poor shape, they’re showing classic symptoms of stress, they’ve been running on empty for weeks, months even. Some of them are malnourished. I’ve already treated cases of scurvy, diphtheria, dysentery. My job is to ensure they don’t blow out, stay operational for as long as possible.”
“Fair enough, so you’re part-shrink, part-doc, part-physio. We used to have counsellors like you at Parkhurst. Box-tickers, form-fillers, pen-pushers. Fussing about well-being, whether we were depressed or not. Of course we were depressed. Anyone would be depressed if they had been banged up for fifteen years. It’s not like talking about it once a week with a counsellor would make up for losing your freedom. Still, always did enjoy my chats with the shrink. You could always wind them up. Educated company was in short supply you see.”
Briggs seemed to pause, lost in thought for a second, as a knowing smile spread across his face.
“Maybe you’re not so useless after all. There might be room in my organisation for someone with your skills.”
By Briggs’ standards, Terra realised this was borderline flirting. She certainly didn’t want Riley for competition back at the castle. She squeezed his neck, digging her thumbs underneath his shoulder blades a little harder than she’d intended. Briggs flinched and seemed to get the hint, brushing her arms away, leaning forward again.
“So tell me again about the convoy. You said there were four vehicles, two squads of soldiers. One of the groups was American, the other was from the base at Porton Down. How many men in total?”
“I don’t know exactly, but I’d say twenty, maybe twenty-five.”
Briggs checked his scribbled notes and made sure her story was consistent, that her version of events remained the same.
“And the scientists, you mentioned they are working on a vaccine. Did you see them loading samples of the vaccine? What else did you see in the other vehicles beside food and weapons?”
“I wasn’t there when they were loading up. We were the last to arrive, the other vehicles were ready to go. I only saw what was inside the APV.”
Victor jumped in. “Boss, we’re getting nowhere. Let’s press pause and concentrate on the others.”
“Alright, maybe you’re right. She’s a decoy. She means nothing. Take her back to the holding cell and bring Zed back up again. Now he’s been softened up a little, I suspect he might be a bit more cooperative. We can be very persuasive at times. It’s just a matter of time before he spills his guts. Ain’t that right Copper?”
Terra wondered what they were doing to him down there in the basement. She was dimly aware of the howls and screams in the night when she was trying to sleep. It sounded like a medieval torture chamber. The men helping Briggs who were based here seemed mildly amused as if this was entertaining for them. She knew they would be rewarded well for their cooperation. Briggs had brought two crates full of brand new assault rifles, as a gesture of goodwill.
A few minutes later Zed was dragged in and dumped roughly in the chair. He was in poor shape. Dirt and dried blood covered his face. Terra wasn’t sure if the blood was from the accident or from the interrogation. His head slumped forward onto the desk, breathing hard from the exertion of climbing the stairs. Copper grabbed his head and yanked it back, his face close to Zed’s.
“Remember me, do you? From the hospital in Lymington? Because I remember you,” he snarled.
Doctor Chengmei intervened, her slender hand on Copper’s arm.
“He’s in no fit state for interrogation. This man needs rest, can’t you see? He should be on a drip for God’s sake.”
Copper shrugged off her hand, ignoring her pleas. He leaned over Zed, enjoying his discomfort, watching his eyes struggling to focus.
“Give him a shot of adrenaline. I only need him lucid for a few minutes. Then you can do with him what you want.”
The Doctor reluctantly agreed. She unzipped a small pouch with a needle and syringe filled with a colourless liquid. As Copper held him tight, she rolled up his sleeve, located a vein and injected him with the adrenaline. The effect was almost instantaneous. If it had not been for the restraints and Copper holding him down, Terra had no doubt he would have jumped out of his seat and wreaked havoc. As it was, they waited for the immediate effect to subside before subjecting him to a barrage of questions. When he didn’t answer immediately, Copper slapped him hard across the face.
“Again, what do you know about the virus?”
“I told you before,” said Zed blinking rapidly, sweat forming on his forehead, “you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m not a scientist.”
“We know that. You told us already. You’re an analyst,” said Briggs, reading his notes again. “You worked for the MoD years ago. Special investigator. Iraq. Biological and chemical weapons. Blah blah blah.”
“Who do you think we are?” added Copper, leaning a forearm against his throat until Zed started coughing and choking, struggling for air. “I warned you that if you lied to us or held something back, you would be punished. Remember?”
Copper released the pressure just long enough for Zed to catch his breath, nodding feverishly.
“I told you everything I know. The Millennial Virus, MV-27. First strain detected in Singapore 2000, highly contagious. Spread through bodily fluids. Airborne. No known cure. Immunity limited to less than ten per cent of the population.”
“Yes, yes, yes. We know all that. What about this Project Wildfire? Apparently you’re some kind of expert. Or did that slip your mind?”
“That was years ago. I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. The Professor seemed to think it was. That there might be a link between the virus and a secret weapons programme.”
“No one knows that for sure. It’s just a hunch. A theory.”
“Go on. Humour us.”
“Back in the Eighties and early Nineties, we were investigating the existence of an Iraq weapons programme that was trying to weaponise the flu virus. It wasn’t viable. But the scientists working on it were never seen or heard of again. Some said they continued their research in America, that other countries had similar programmes, that the outbreak was no accident. Like I say, it was just a theory.”
“Doctor? What do you think? Does that sound plausible or is he just telling us more crap to stay alive?”
Doctor Chengmei was standing against the wall, shaking her head. She wanted no part in this man’s torture.
“I’m hardly qualified to comment. I’m a General Practitioner, not a specialist.”
Briggs seemed to be weighing up his options, thinking through what he’d learned from the other occupants of the APV. Terra knew for sure that his talk with the scientists had been unsatisfactory. They had been seemingly incapable of answering simple questions without either dissolving into tears, blubbing like children, or pleading for their lives. Briggs had been frustrated that they spoke in a language no one in the room understood except perhaps the Doctor.
“Whether it’s true or not. You kept that theory back didn’t you? You thought Briggs didn’t need to know about Project Wildfire. He wouldn’t understand. He’s not a scientist. Why should he care? We had to learn about it from someone else. I asked you earlier whether you’d told me everything you knew and you told me you had. In my book that makes you a liar.”
Briggs started tutting to himself, shaking his head.
“You k
now what? I met dozens of people like you in prison. They were two a penny. People who thought they were smarter than everyone else. Jumped up wide-boys who went to college, got a degree, big job, worked in the City or wherever. They were the stupid ones. They learned nothing about how the real world works. I called it a common-sense by-pass. You see, living on your wits, starting with nothing, not having a family to give you a head-start in life, it all teaches you to look after yourself, to be independent, to be a self-starter. You know what I did? I surrounded myself with people smarter than me, taught them how to think, how to act, how to get what they wanted. People like you make me laugh. You’ve spent your whole life learning stuff that doesn’t matter anymore. You’re a wind-up toy in a digital world. The virus made all your knowledge irrelevant. The new world is made for people like me.”
Zed remained silent, staring back like a trapped animal, the effects of the adrenaline beginning to subside, replaced by fatigue and fear. He struggled against his bonds, trying to get up and get out of that room. Terra thought he looked like a man on the edge of sanity, losing his grip.
“Looks like we got ourselves a fighter here. Perhaps it’s time we taught him some respect eh? Copper, grab that axe thing of his will you.”
Terra watched with growing alarm as Copper kicked through a pile of personal belongings in the corner of the room. The pile included various items rescued from the APV. He unhooked the double-headed axe from the backpack it was secured to. Zed had told her once that he liked to keep it about his person as a deterrent more than anything. Copper tested its weight in the palms of his hands. There was something pleasing about it. It was reassuringly solid yet light and perfectly balanced. Reluctantly, he passed the axe to Briggs who patted it affectionately.
“Hold out his arms. We need to teach this one a lesson.”
“Briggs, please. You don’t need to…”
“Shut it Terra, unless you want to take his place.”
Copper grabbed hold of his wrists tied together and forced his arms out on the table in front of him.
“You know, in Saudi Arabia, when a thief was caught stealing, his hand would be chopped off as a deterrent to others. If a man lied then his tongue would be cut out.”
Briggs stood up and switched the axe from one hand to the other. “Adultery, well that was a hundred lashes. Witchcraft was my favourite. You lost your head for that. You Zed, I reckon you look like a bit of a sorcerer, eh?”
He lifted Zed’s chin with his hand, peering deep into his eyes, flicking from one to the other. He lowered his voice, it sounded almost caring.
“You probably don’t remember, but a lot of my people died because of you. That missile that took out my convoy on the island was your doing, wasn’t it? You’ve been working with the Americans all along. Conjuring up mischief wherever you go. Well, not anymore.”
“Please,” said Terra, interjecting again. She’d witnessed similar punishments before and didn’t want to be a party to Briggs’ butchery.
Briggs leaned forward and quickly inserted the tip of the axe in between Zed’s wrists, flicking through the cable tie with one twist. He splayed his two arms apart with the blade and before Zed could react or flinch, brought the axe down hard embedding itself in to the vinyl surface.
Terra screamed and covered her face, not daring to look at what was left of Zed’s arm.
“I’d say your magic days are over, wouldn’t you?” said Briggs, wiping a splatter of blood from his cheek. “Patch that arm up will you Doc. I want this one kept alive.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Riley couldn’t stop crying. She had been standing near the window for the last few hours, craning her neck to distract herself with the dark tapestry of autumnal colours in the surrounding trees. On any other day, the festival of yellows, browns and greens would have lifted her mood, but not today. The screams she had heard from above, shook her to the core.
When she had seen with her own eyes what they had done to some of the other prisoners, she found it hard to control her anger. How could they do something like that? What could possibly have justified such brutality? She worried about Zed, that his stubbornness and refusal to cooperate would get him into deeper trouble. That those inhuman animal screams she heard had belonged to Zed.
When the Doctor had looked in on Riley the next morning, she could tell from the troubled look on her face that something was terribly wrong. It took a few minutes for the whole truth to reveal itself, for her to come clean.
At first, Riley didn’t dare confront her fears, preferring to believe the Doctor’s unease related to betraying her Hippocratic oath, ignoring professional medical responsibilities, or something. She was evasive in her answers, avoiding eye contact. In the end, when Riley asked after Zed, the Doctor could contain herself no longer. She told Riley in breathless sobs what they had done to him. Riley turned away, fighting for breaths. It felt like all the air in her lungs had been squeezed out of her. Her chest was held in a vice, like the panic attacks she had suffered as a child. She remembered her mother’s advice, coaxing her to slow her breaths, to regain control.
“I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea they would do that. To punish a man in that way. It was unspeakable.”
“Why didn’t you stop them? You’re a doctor for God’s sake. You’re sworn to save people, not stand by and let this happen.”
“There was nothing I could do,” she said, shaking her head, covering her mouth with her hand in anguish. “We should never have agreed to help these people.”
“Then why did you? Briggs is a monster. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“We had no idea. They came here offering gifts. They told us they needed our help to stop the convoy from Porton Down reaching the coast, to capture their leaders and send them back where they came from. They promised us weapons. They already knew how much we distrusted the soldiers after what they had done to the surrounding communities. Those bastards kidnapped two of our group. We never saw them again. Briggs told us that they infect the people they capture with the virus, to test some vaccine they’re developing. They all deserve to die for what they are doing at Porton. They’re the ones who are evil.”
“It’s lies, all lies. They’re twisting the truth to suit their purpose. The team at Porton Down is trying to develop a vaccine that could save us all. Can’t you see that Briggs is duping you? He’s telling you what you want to hear, to gain your trust. Those men you helped capture are scientists and researchers. They might well be our last best hope of salvation.”
“You really believe that there’s going to be a cure? Don’t kid yourself.”
“Not yet, but in time, they’ll find the answer.”
“You forget, I was there, during the outbreak. Watching all those people die. There was nothing we could do. We tried everything. We threw the kitchen sink at that virus and it just laughed back at us. Is it true what Briggs said? That the virus was bio-engineered?”
“We don’t know that. It’s just a line of enquiry. No one knows that for sure.”
“I wouldn’t put it past those bastards at Porton Down. It beggars belief. Millions of people died, and for what?”
“You really believe our own government, or any other government for that matter, could do something like that? No way. Who would possibly gain from the mass extermination of the human race?”
“Don’t be so naive, only every terrorist and extremist in the world.”
“The only way we’ll find out for sure is if those scientists are allowed to finish their research. What if they can figure it out? Shouldn’t we give them the chance? It might be our single greatest hope. Why snuff that out, give up before we’ve given them every opportunity?”
“Listen. I gave up hoping a long time ago. When you lose everyone you care about, you stop believing there’s someone upstairs looking out for you.”
“But hope’s about all we have left. It’s what keeps us all going. Camp Wight, the island, it’s a fresh start. Somethi
ng to look forward to. The belief that we can rebuild, make a better world. That the human race isn’t finished, it’s just going through a painful readjustment. That we’ll find a way. Can’t you see, it’s our duty to keep trying until we figure it out.”
“Listen, I don’t want to rain on your parade. Really, I admire your resolve. But getting people’s hopes up like this, is wrong. Promising them false dreams, luring them to the island like they are, when the only thing waiting for them is hard labour. We’ve all heard the stories, the truth about what’s really happening on the island. What the Americans are up to. We’re much better off staying where we are, making the best of our lot, working together with the local communities, becoming self-sufficient. Not upping sticks and leaving this behind so we can start again, working for someone else. People like us, call us the disenfranchised, we don’t want anything to do with those guys, the military, the government. They’re the people who got us in this big mess in the first place.”
“You’ve got this all the wrong way round. They’re trying to save us.”
“Who says we want to be saved? We’re doing fine. We’re making the best of our lot here. The sooner you give up spreading false hope, the sooner you can accept your reality.”
“You’re wrong if you think surviving is going to be enough. Things are only going to get worse. The last few years have been easy. It’s what comes next that I worry about, a descent into savagery.”
“Not here, we’re good people. You brought that wickedness with you and you should take it back with you when you’re gone.”
“Then don’t stand in our way. Open your eyes and see who these people are, what they’re capable of. Briggs is an escaped convict, a career criminal. He’s not one of the good guys.”
“We’re not taking sides here. We’re just doing what we need to survive.”
