“So that’s your angle is it? Why the fuck would I turn the order to incinerate off?”
“Because you may not get off this island in time if you don’t.”
“I’ll get out in time. Besides, if this island doesn’t burn, then the virus could spread.”
A press of the button and Rhys listened to thousands of clicks throughout the city as the shutters lifted. It sounded like huge dominos falling as the hard snaps rang out one after the other in quick succession. Anxiety tightened Rhys’ chest. What the fuck would the city be like when he went back outside?
Once the sound had died down, Rhys did a quick scan of the room. A white lab coat had been tossed over the back of a chair. Rhys took it and walked back out into the corridor.
Without a look at Oscar, Rhys proceeded to thread the thick garment through the two handles above his baseball bat.
He tied the two ends of the coat together and slipped his bat free before he tested the door. It held. When he looked back up at Oscar, his stomach pulled tight and his jaw fell loose. “Fuck.”
The taller man stood on the other side of the doors with a deep frown on his face and a gun in his grip. He had it pointed directly at Rhys. He spoke slowly when he said, “Open the fucking door, now.”
Chapter 23
Every muscle in Rhys’ body fell limp as he stared at the gun. He moved his jaw several times before he got the words out. “How did you get a gun into the city? Where the fuck did you hide it?”
Oscar threw his head back and laughed so hard it echoed in the small room. When he looked back at Rhys all of the humour had left his face. A sneer of derision lifted his top lip. The thick doors muffled his voice. “You don’t think they can actually tell when people are using or carrying guns, do you?” A shake of his head and he snorted a humourless laugh. “You poor deluded man.”
Panicked breaths ran through Rhys and he held back his reply.
“All I had to do was strap the thing to my back so no one could see it. The scanners are a lie they tell to stupid people. If enough idiots believe it, it becomes a fact. That’s how the truth works, isn’t it? But your government’s built on lies, so maybe there’s so many you just don’t see them anymore. It’s the great illusion that is democracy. They fill your head full of bullshit to keep you compliant. That way they never have to take responsibility for being the ones imposing the constraints on you. They blame their actions on terrorism, or the potential threat of war. They lead you a merry dance based on the things you fear most. If you see enough people killed by lunatics, you’ll give up almost anything to remain safe. All the while, they create the illusion of choice and keep the framework big enough that you don’t realise it’s a complex web that you’re trapped within.”
“What are you, some kind of conspiracy nut?”
For a second, Oscar lowered his gun and looked genuinely sad. “I almost feel sorry for you, Rhys. I live in a system that’s far from perfect, but at least I know who’s fucking me up the arse. The system you live within is a convoluted mess of lies that tries to pass itself off as something democratic. But it’s all bullshit. We’re both slaves to those in power.”
Rhys didn’t reply.
“Anyway, back to the matter in hand,” Oscar said as he jabbed himself in the temple with the index finger of his left hand. “Think about it, Rhys; how can someone scan for the production of weapons? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I dunno… I just thought—”
“But you didn’t think, did you? You accepted what you were told like a good little sheep. You’re a fucking moron.”
Stillness settled over Rhys, and he looked straight at Oscar. “I’m not the one trapped in a room.”
“No, but you are the one with a gun pointed at your face.”
Rhys looked down to the left. With enough speed, he could dive out of the way. The small windows restricted Oscar’s aim. He needed to react before Oscar shot. “You know what?” Rhys said as he shifted to the left, “I only locked you in that room because I had my doubts. I wasn’t sure about you, and if you’d have kept your head, I would have unlocked the doors and we’d be on our way now. But you’ve shown your true colours.”
“Are you forgetting that I’m the one holding the gun?”
“That may be true, but let’s say you shoot me, what then?” Rhys walked over to the room on the left and pulled the door open. When he glanced to his right through the window that separated the two rooms, he saw Oscar had followed him with the aim of his gun. After he’d taken another lab coat from the floor, Rhys stepped back outside the room.
While he tied the handles of the room on the left as tight as the handles on Oscar’s room, he said, “The only way out of either of these rooms is through one of these sets of doors. The windows are too small for you to climb through, so you need me. Shoot me and you ain’t going anywhere, sunshine.”
Although his shoulders sagged, Oscar kept his gun raised. “It looks like we have a stalemate then.”
“How’s that?” Rhys said.
“Well, if I shoot you, I’m fucked. If you leave, you’re going to get a bullet in your back. It seems that the only way out of this is if you set me free and we go our separate ways.”
“And you expect me to trust a man who’s pointing a gun at me, do you? A lunatic who’s going against his heritage and siding with a bunch of paranoid nutters in The East.”
“Take a look around, Rhys; it was your government who made this weapon, not mine. All we’re doing is making sure it never gets over to us by setting it free over here.”
“So you killed the policemen outside the city?”
“Me? No. My colleagues? Yes. We needed to make sure the virus got out. They would have contained it before it had gotten off the bridge otherwise.”
Rhys’ temperature lifted and he shook as he shouted, “The virus reached my son’s school.”
A slight frown creased Oscar’s features but he didn’t reply.
After a deep breath, Rhys’ rage settled a little. “And that’s why you don’t want the island to incinerate?”
“Naturally. We’re turning your own weapon against you. You may as well say goodbye to your boy. You may as well say goodbye to everything.”
Heat washed over Rhys and sweat stood out on the back of his neck.
“Anyway,” Oscar said, “even if you do get out of the city—which I don’t think you will—you’re all fucked. The only way to survive what’s going to happen over the next few days is to get out of the UK. The airports will be locked down before you get there and no one will be giving you a lift; you’re not important enough. Face it, you’re all fucked.”
“You’re full of shit, Oscar. You’re desperate; that’s where this is coming from. You’ll say whatever you can to get out of that room. You’ve failed. This island will burn with you on it.”
Although he pretended to be calm, Rhys noticed how the gun in Oscar’s hand shook. “None of it matters anymore, Rhys. As you’ve seen with your own eyes, the virus is already out. And even if you manage to stop most of it from getting out of the city, your country’s already fallen. You saw the helicopter, didn’t you?”
The image of the naked man flooded back to Rhys… the way the diseased tore into him and how he turned in just a few seconds. The dark memory scrambled his thoughts. He shook his head to clear it. “What about that helicopter? What do you know?”
“You saw them picking up the diseased, yeah?”
Rhys stared at Oscar and didn’t reply.
“They’re taking them out into the UK and dropping them at random points; they have been for the past few hours. A few of our choppers have headed over to France to start the virus in mainland Europe. It’s going to spread whether you like it or not, and at some point you’re going to see your little boy eaten alive. Or worse, he’s going to see you eaten alive and will be left all alone. You never know; maybe cannibals will get to him before the diseased do.” A wide smile stretched across Oscar’s broad face when
he said, “Maybe paedophiles.”
A mixture of grief and fear wobbled Rhys’ words. “I trusted you. I helped you get here.”
“Shut up, Rhys, you delusional idiot. You wouldn’t have made it here if it weren’t for me. Regardless of how bad my leg is, you needed me as much as I did you.”
A shake of his head and Rhys shifted to the left a little more. It narrowed Oscar’s angle. “I’m not letting you out.”
“Let me out of here or I will shoot you.”
“No. I can’t… not now.” Another step to the left.
The gun shook worse than before in Oscar’s grip.
When Rhys saw Oscar’s finger tighten, he dove to the floor.
The loud bang of the gun seemed to shake the very walls of the building.
Chapter 24
Rhys’ ears rang as he lay on the floor. The sudden movement had triggered the pain at the base of his back from the bike crash. A dull throb resided around his coccyx; however, the searing agony of a hot bullet in his body seemed absent. He moved slowly, as if he’d been shot anyway. The shock had hit him hard. He then looked up at Oscar.
The large man worked his jaw in large circles. His ears clearly hurt. But more importantly, Rhys saw the grey splash on the unbroken window in front of him.
Rhys stood up, picked up his baseball bat, and stared into Oscar’s cold glare. He laughed, “The glass, it’s bulletproof. Ha, who’s the fucking idiot now?” He pointed at the big man. “You’re fucked in there, Oscar, and there’s fuck all you can do about it. Although you should consider yourself lucky—burning’s too good for you. I can think of many more ways to kill you that would be far more appropriate. Terrorists should have their balls removed without anaesthetic just for starters.”
“Terrorist? You were the ones who created this cursed virus. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for your vile government.”
Two slow steps forward and Rhys had closed the distance between them. The stained pane of bulletproof glass separated them.
In a blink, Oscar raised his gun again and cracked off another bullet at the window.
A flash exploded between them and Rhys recoiled from the loud bang.
The splash on the window, although darker, remained as just surface-level damage.
Before Rhys could say anything else, Oscar screamed and kicked the doors. Veins stood out on the man’s thick neck as he savagely beat the barrier that kept him contained.
Each blow moved the doors ever so slightly before they returned to where they were. The lab coat’s tight knot held them better than the baseball bat ever could. “There’s no way you’re getting out, Oscar. Face it, pal, you’ve lost.”
Red-faced and wide-eyed, Oscar turned to the large window that separated the two rooms and shot it—a loud bang, a grey splash, but still no broken glass.
When Oscar lifted the office chair in the room, Rhys laughed at him.
Oscar threw it against the window and the thing bounced off it with a loud crash. When it came back at him, Oscar had to jump out of the way before it clattered on the floor.
Rhys watched the big man as he stood lame on the other side of the glass. “It looks like you’ve run out of options. Not so confident now, are you?”
So close to the window his breath turned it misty, Oscar watched Rhys for a moment. “You were quick to realise that the story about my brother was bullshit. I do have a brother, but he lives in Kent and doesn’t have Down’s. I imagine he’ll be vomiting up his own blood before the week’s out… if he even lasts that long.” A grin stretched across his face. “You’ll see the same happen to your boy soon, and when you do, think of me saying ‘I told you so’.”
Rhys wrung the handle of his bat but didn’t reply.
“You fucked up by leaving him with Vicky, you know? Oh, and you were right about that too; you never told me her name. I’ve known Vicky for some time now. We go way back. She’s not who you think she is, and you trusted her with your child… pretty fucking dumb, if you ask me.”
Rhys’ breath quickened. “What are you talking about?”
“Turn the order to incinerate off and let me out.”
“No.”
“I’m not telling you anything then. Let’s just hope your boy’s okay when you get to him, eh? Not that you’re going to make it back through the city.”
Rhys shook as he retrieved his walkie-talkie from his tight pocket. He took a deep breath to calm himself before he switched it on.
Static hissed out of the small speaker. No signal. Rhys pressed the button anyway. “Vicky, it’s Rhys. Can you hear me?”
Nothing but static.
Oscar laughed. “Poor little foolish Rhys. The man who trusted too much.”
“You’re right, I did trust too much. I knew you were a bad egg from the start, but I ignored my gut feeling and that’s on me. I should have cut you loose immediately, Oscar, you fucking prick.”
“Brendan,” Oscar said.
“What?”
“My name’s Brendan. Tell Vicky that Brendan says hi when you speak to her. Watch her reaction.”
Rhys frowned so hard it hurt.
“She was a good fuck, you know.”
While he backed away, Rhys shook his head. He had to get out of there. Time spent with Oscar ate into the time he needed to escape. He looked at Flynn’s Superman watch. Just over one hour and forty-five minutes before the city burned hotter than hell.
Oscar grinned and waved at Rhys as he backed away. “Bye bye, Rhys. You ain’t making it out of this city before it burns. Not with the hell you’ve just released out there and not without someone to bail you out as much as I have.”
“At least I have a chance, you sick fuck. You have none. Good fucking riddance, you horrible bastard.”
The sound of Oscar, or Brendan, or whatever his fucking name was, chased Rhys as he ran down the corridor away from him. “I should have fucking shot you when we were in the lift.”
Rhys stopped and turned around. “But you didn’t, did you? And you know why?”
Oscar paced up and down as he stared at Rhys.
“Because you needed me to survive; that leg of yours is fucked and you couldn’t last without me. Sure, you did bail me out, but with your leg as it is now, you’re less than useless.” Rhys headed for the first set of doors.
A string of shouted abuse preceded several more thuds as Oscar kicked the shit out of the doors. But Rhys didn’t look back. When he got to the first quarantine door, he swiped his card through the reader and it opened.
After he’d stepped through, he waited for the door to close behind him, lifted his baseball bat, and looked at Oscar one last time. With gritted teeth, he yelled and smashed the small black box off the wall.
Chapter 25
Once Rhys had passed through the last door at the end of the long corridor, he smashed the card reader from the wall as he’d done with the others. The brittle plastic shattered and tinkled on the ground. A black rectangular plate remained with wires that hung down from it like entrails.
The section closest to the lift stank from the metallic stench of blood combined with the diseased reek of rot. Rhys could almost taste it.
A glance back to the room at the end sent a chill through Rhys when he saw Oscar. The big man dipped his head and watched Rhys from beneath his brow while he rocked from side to side. If he doesn’t burn when the city goes up… Rhys shook the thought away. It didn’t serve him to think about it. Besides, how the fuck would Oscar get out of that room and off the island before it burned?
The lift doors closed most of the way, but bashed into the leg of the dead scientist lying half in the lift and half in the corridor. Then the doors opened again. Each time they opened, a pre-recorded ting punched through the silence. The repetitive sound rang as the final ingredient of the madness that surrounded Rhys. Like a broken child that did nothing but head-butt a wall, it needed someone to stop it.
When Rhys got close to the man, he looked at his name bad
ge again rather than the deep wound in his face. As he lifted his feet, he said, “Sorry, Wilfred,” and pulled him back.
The first tug didn’t move the fat man. A deep breath and Rhys pulled harder. This time he moved, but only slightly.
After several more tugs, a layer of sweat stood out on Rhys’ body and his shirt stuck to him. He put his foot in the way of the door so it didn’t close and removed his walkie-talkie again. The hiss of static responded when he turned it on. He pressed the button. “Vicky? Vicky?” A loud wash of white noise answered him. “Fuck it.”
The confined lift smelled as bad as the hallway, if not worse. No matter where he stood, Rhys couldn’t avoid the sharp vinegar tang of decay. Although Rhys had fought the scientist in the hallway, Oscar had killed him in the lift and a large patch of blood had spread out over the floor.
Adrenaline shook Rhys’ hand when he pressed the ground floor button. As the doors closed on the nightmare that had spawned this entire fiasco, Rhys took deep breaths. He’d not even begun to see the worst of it yet. Thousands more people released into the city could only end badly. The only way he could survive would be to take advantage of the early insanity. If he did, then maybe he’d have a chance… maybe.
Rhys’ stomach tingled as the lift lowered with a monotonous whir. He checked his watch; one hour and forty minutes left for him to get out of Summit City.
When the button for the tenth floor lit up, Rhys rolled his shoulders and swayed from side the side. The diseased fuck who had tried to get into the lift when they went up would no doubt be waiting for him at the bottom.
At the ninth floor, Rhys chewed the inside of his mouth and waited. Oscar had said Vicky couldn’t be trusted, but Rhys had trusted her.
Floor eight.
He’d trusted her with the most important thing in his world. What an idiot.
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