Strangeways
Page 22
At first, the two guards looked at each other, unsure of what to do. They didn’t move, desperately searching for guidance. They knew all too well the rumors of her father and how he punished failure with utter finality.
Alix turned to her father. “Order them to release Isaac. Order them to bring him down here.”
Her father’s eyes speared into her. The hatred intensified. “You disappoint me, Alix,” he winced. “No. I will not release him. He must die in these cells.”
“Jack,” Alix uttered the one word, but it was enough to get her instruction across.
“With pleasure.” He twisted her father’s neck a few more inches and Lucien screamed with pain.
“It won’t matter anyway!” he shouted back at her. “You’ll never get out of the building. You’re done! You’ll follow your brother into the cells!”
Alix didn’t even need the word, this time. She simply looked Mad Jack in the eye, and he applied the pressure.
“Alright!” her father screamed, almost before the pressure began. He knew there was only so far his neck could turn before it snapped. He felt on the limit now and didn’t want to risk twisting another inch.
The pain stopped and he fixed Alix with a look of fiery malevolence. “This is not over, Alix!” His head turned to the gallery. “Bring the boy down!” he yelled, his voice attempting to maintain the authority he’d accrued over the years. The authority that was currently imperiled.
Upstairs, the guards tapped in a code and the cage withdrew. Isaac stepped from the cage and was immediately seized under the arms by the guards.
“Bring him down,” Alix shouted, not waiting for her father to give the order.
His guards began moving, disappearing out of sight as they made their way to the cell level.
“Give me a baton,” Alix ordered, turning to the nearest guard in front of her, his weapon still crackling with electrical energy.
He hesitated. This was the next step. It was the next level of danger for the people. One prisoner had been released and now, the ones who’d effected the escape wanted a weapon. She knew she might need to incentivize them again.
When they didn’t give her the weapon, she uttered Mad Jack’s name again, which was followed by a scream of agony as her father suffered for their hesitation. It only took one scream for the baton to skitter across the floor to her feet.
The moment she picked it up, its dermal sensor completed the connection and the energy flowed through it once more, the blue power dazzling and licking across the weapon’s tip.
At the edge of the walkway, just inside the arena floor, her brother reappeared. He was still held by the guards. They stopped there.
Alix held the weapon out in front of her but turned to Mad Jack. “Let’s go,” she said. Slowly, he began moving himself and her father up the walkway.
Alix allowed them to go first, she covered the rear, in case the two guards considered rushing them as they walked.
“Alix,” guttered Mad Jack, his baritone voice cutting through the gasps and murmurs of horror from the crowd.
She turned to look. One of the guards holding her brother was advancing down the walkway, flicking out his baton as he did so, the weapon crackling into existence. She scuttled to the front of Mad Jack and ordered them to put down their weapons and release her brother.
It was slow, but they complied. They were catching on that any refusal would result in agony for their boss and if he lived, he would be certain to seek vengeance on anyone who’d caused him to suffer.
Isaac’s laser cuffs were deactivated, and the two guards lay down on the ground. Isaac strode over one of them, picking up a baton as he did so. “Alix, look behind you!” he shouted and rushed around her.
One of the first guards was taking the initiative and advancing from the rear as they ascended the walkway.
Isaac saw the cell in the background, the walkway sloping down to the entrance door. He could have taken up a guarded posture and ensured the guards didn’t come any closer, but he didn’t. He closed on them quickly, not content with just getting out of there, he wanted a measure of revenge for what they had done to him after he returned from Strangeways.
The guard swung his baton at Isaac as he advanced, but it was aimed uphill and lacked the pinpoint accuracy needed to strike home.
Isaac brought his baton up to meet it and there was a tremendous flash and hiss as the two batons met. Isaac’s baton was stronger, and the guard’s assault died there. Isaac planted a kick into the guard’s chest, doing enough to topple him backwards, even though his chest armor protected him from any damage.
Before he’d even hit the floor, Isaac was on him, bearing down over him and driving the baton’s tip into the exposed flesh of the guard’s neck.
The guard convulsed as the baton contacted his skin, but lay paralyzed afterwards, his eyes opening and closing automatically as they should, but no conscious movement followed.
Seeing what had happened, the other guards became more cautious. If any of them had been contemplating similar actions, the thought had ceased.
Finally, they reached the veil that led to backstage. The crowd was still in an uproar, paralyzing themselves by the unusual set of events. Things weren’t going as part of the plan and their safety net had been removed. This wasn’t justice. This was anarchy! They were watching an attack on their safety and peace of mind.
There were surprisingly few guards backstage, most having been preoccupied in the arena itself, and there was a clear road to the stairs.
“We need to get to the roof,” Alix said, her eyes scanning the area and making sure there were no threats.
“Agreed,” replied Mad Jack
The stairwell was situated along the concrete wall of the entry area. It led all the way down to the transfer area, the underground tunnel running straight to the prison across the road and all the way up to the roof.
Her father seemed to understand what they were planning. “You disappoint me, Alix,” he whispered to her, his voice volume low as if he wanted only her to hear it.
She ignored him.
“Do you think you can escape this?” he continued.
She again ignored him.
“Do you honestly think I can let you live now?”
This piqued her attention and her eyes turned to look at him. They were out of the main corridor and out of sight. They still didn’t have time to engage in wordplay, but she couldn’t ignore the threat. She knew that she couldn’t be allowed to live. She knew because it was the conclusion she’d come to as well.
He really had trained her well. She thought like him. She thought like a man who thought himself a king. The narrative was so vitally important and if Isaac was going to be executed for his supposed crimes on Strangeways, she must certainly die for springing him. “I know you can’t, father, but ask yourself this, if my daughter is dead anyway, why should she be worried about whether I live or not?”
It made him pause as well. “I’m your father, Alix and right now, I’m the victim. The people are on my side. If you kill me, there will be uproar. They’ll hunt you down and nowhere will be safe.”
Isaac stepped forward. “We don’t have time for this, Alix,” he growled, drawing the baton and spearing her father in the gut. The electric current passed straight through his dress suit. His eyes opened wide with stunned shock and then relaxed as his body went limp. They continued to open and close, but his body crumpled to the floor, landing in an awkward position, his legs bent too far underneath him. The way he looked on the ground, it was obvious he would be in great discomfort, but couldn’t move to correct the soreness.
“I’ll take over from here,” said Mad Jack, his voice light-hearted and airy. He was completely unfazed by their situation. He whistled a jaunty tune as he grabbed hold of her father’s arms and hauled him up, cleaning him onto his shoulders in one movement. The sheer power of the man was obvious again. He began climbing the stairs, slowly. Too slowly, as if he didn’t need to ru
sh. As if they were not trying to escape with their lives. He continued whistling as he did so.
From down below, through the closed doors leading back to the arena concourse, Alix could hear speech. Guards. They were being hunted. The guards were searching for them, but they didn’t know where they’d gone. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize their route. They’d head to the roof and try to make their escape.
It was an accident that he had started to climb the stairs first, but she was glad that he had. Had she gone first; she’d have been unable to jostle him along. She’d have rushed on ahead and had to watch as he continued to whistle his way up the stairs.
From behind, she could also ensure he didn’t abandon the plan completely and turn to face the guards. Mad Jack had just been beaten and would want some blood satisfaction. The guards who pursued them might be too tempting a snack.
As it was, Alix pushed him in the small of his back. “Jack, we need to move faster. They’re coming.”
“Whatever you say, young Alix,” he replied, the whistling recommencing as his footsteps speeded up.
Alix noticed her father’s body. It was draped over Mad Jack’s body and his head dangled down Jack’s back. It was turned towards her, and the eyes opened and closed in usual time, but they bored into her with hatred.
Alix had to look away. The man shouldered by Mad Jack did not seem like her father anymore. The betrayal she’d caused. She was breaking Isaac and Mad Jack free in front of millions and whatever relationship was left between them had been utterly crushed. They were no longer father and daughter. They were enemies and Alix felt, for the first time, that they always had been. She’d told herself lies to put up with his behavior, but deep down, she’d known it was always wrong.
Her newly realized understanding; the skills granted to her by her father’s training, were the very skills that told her his behavior had always been wrong. Her betrayal had simply removed the final defense and she could now see clearly. Her father was evil and gasped for power. He craved it and he’d carved out a niche that would lead him to it. As it has always been, the will of the masses provided all the power any despot ever needed and if they could harness it, they’d be unstoppable.
Her father, Lucien Venner, had crafted the Wardens to harness that power and she had threatened it. Not only was she a threat to her father, but she was also a threat to the people.
She’d attacked their safety net, their way of life. Her father was right. They would hunt her down. They’d hunt all of them down until the balance was redressed and the people no longer felt scared again.
“There’s a door, Alix,” Mad Jack said, his voice still higher pitched than their situation dictated. “Shall we proceed?”
“Open it and head straight ahead. The control room should be on the right. If there’s no one in there, the staff room is the next one along.”
“Not a problem, young Alix.”
Alix couldn’t see the door open. She couldn’t peer around the mass of Mad Jack, but she heard it and watched the muscles of his back flex as he reached out to pull the door handle.
Jack threw the door open, slamming the handle into the wall and sending a sound spiraling down the stairs and rocketing through the landing floor.
Alix winced. The sound would have been heard by anyone standing in those areas, but Mad Jack just didn’t care. He was in charge of his emotions and enjoying the nonchalance with which he survived this most testing of times.
Sure enough, two people did hear the sound and they emerged from the second room on the right, the staff room. First, one head poked out and then the other as the first person moved into the hallway.
They were both young, sporting short cropped brown hair, nursing steaming cups of something, probably tea. They both wore flight suits and it was clear they were the crew of the hovercraft Alix knew would be sitting on the landing pad, ready for liftoff whenever it was called on.
There was no sound coming from the staff room. There was a video player in there, but the crew clearly didn’t have it on. If they had, they’d have seen the chaos coming from the arena floor and be more prepared. The escapees had caught a break.
But now they were spotted and the sight of Lucien Venner, their employer, sprawled across the shoulders of Mad Jack Brooks set their alarm bells ringing. They darted back inside the staff room and closed the door.
“Isaac,” Mad Jack said, the one word conveying all the instructions needed.
Alix knew what Isaac was going to do. “Don’t hurt the pilot,” she called after him as he took off down the hallway. “We need him.”
Isaac reached the door and shoved it with his shoulder. Locked. He stepped back, bring the sole of his naked foot up and planting it by the door lock. It splintered and rushed open. Isaac disappeared inside.
Alix was still trapped behind Mad Jack, who was unmoving as if he knew Alix would try and break up what was happening inside the room down the hall. “It’s wonderful hearing him work, Alix. He’s a genius, isn’t he? So much potential,” Mad Jack spoke behind himself.
He was doing it on purpose. He was stopping her from going to intervene. She had to hope Isaac was in his senses enough to spare the pilot. It was their only way out. She closed her eyes as if the extra focus would somehow telepathically tell Isaac not to do anything stupid.
There was an almighty commotion coming from the staff room. Thuds, crashes and the occasional scream of pain. Furniture toppled and the sound of mugs and ceramics shattering, echoed down the corridor. Finally, it quietened down with a final grunt and crash. The fight had ended with someone losing their senses.
No one emerged from the room afterwards, but Mad Jack finally moved. He walked faster. He wanted to see what had happened inside the room.
When they reached the door, two things became obvious. Firstly, Isaac had lost the stun baton very early in the skirmish. It lay near the door, over by the wall. It had been knocked from Isaac’s hands and rolled to the wall out of harm’s way. Secondly, Isaac had won.
He sat on a table covered with upturned plates and mugs, his face showing some signs of damage. The eye; his left eye, the one that had been so badly beaten by Mad Jack, had been split in the corner, a trickle of blood running down his cheek. That area was probably permanently weakened, the scar tissue would always be prone to rupture from now on. He grinned at them in the doorway and his teeth showed a ruddy outline, a sign of cut gums.
Mad Jack flicked his shoulder, sending Alix’s father careening to the floor in a heap. Jack didn’t even bother to see how he handed; just leaving him wherever he fell. He immediately strode towards Isaac, his arms outstretched, the muscles bulging.
“Well done, Isaac. I knew you were special. I knew you had the gift. You just needed the proper impulse to realize it. It worked. A few good punches crack your skull and all that talent pours out.” He was referring to the beating he’d given him. He thought it was the reason Isaac was able to do what he’d just done. It was almost like he expected Isaac to thank him.
Alix scoffed. Thanking someone for beating them. She couldn’t believe it.
“Thanks,” Isaac said to Mad Jack, embracing him as a brother, each man clapping the other on the back.
“You see, Alix,” Mad Jack said to her. “He’s something else, this brother of yours.” He shook Isaac’s shoulders affectionately, making his head bobble back and forth.
Alix couldn’t believe she’d heard Isaac thank Mad Jack for pummeling him to within a hair of his life. He was truly lost to his old life. Had he still been her brother, she would have disowned him there and then. As Mad Jack released Isaac’s shoulders and turned away, Alix saw Isaac try and shadow his pride at Jack’s words.
In the middle of the room lay a body, his face a mosaic of different shades of swollen red. It was difficult to tell which of the two men it had been. The patch above his left breast pocket read ‘Officer Owens’. Officer. The co-pilot. Isaac had focused his beating on the co-pilot, as Alix had said.
Isaac looked at her and realized she was looking for the pilot. “Over there,” he said, pointing into the corner of the room, behind an upturned table.
Sure enough, cowering in the corner was the pilot, his knees drawn up to his chest, trying to hide the shaking. He was a picture of pure terror.
Both Mad Jack and Alix stepped towards him and shrank he back even more, his eyes not leaving Mad Jack’s bull face, who watched the root of fear in the pilot’s mind.
Alix spoke first. The pilot did not fear her, but he should. If he refused to take them from the arena, he would consider Mad Jack the pussycat of the trio compared to her.
She glanced down at his nameplate. “Captain Ambrose,” she said, and his eyes shifted to her. “We have a small favor to ask.”
23
He didn’t have much choice really. He was so petrified; he’d have done anything to ensure the same fate that had befallen his co-pilot did not happen to him. Was it a bluff?
Probably for Alix, but the pilot wasn’t to know that. He feared the hulking form of Mad Jack far more than Alix, even though she swore that she would have meted out a far worse punishment for him than Mad Jack would. After all, wasn’t punishment the name of her game.
As the pilot got himself together, opening his locker and removing the flight keys, his ignition passes and his formal flight coat, Alix considered what she would have to become to truly overcome Mad Jack. She’d beaten him in the cells, that much was clear, but he didn’t seem especially bothered about this. He continued to comport himself like he was the victor. It was the threat of sheer, unadulterated violence that made people bend to his will.
Alix didn’t have that. Would she need to develop it if she was to ever fully lead? She sensed that this part of her life was ending, but that a new, far more dangerous chapter was beginning.
She had lost the safety of the law. She was beyond it, outside its comforting blanket. She was in the cold, hunted by those who claimed to love her. And while part of her wanted to call the escape off, she knew that her father, the prostrate form lying crumpled in the hallway, was not the man she had known growing up.