Vigo's Lament: A Dystopian Thriller (Age of End Book 3)

by Chris Yee

  Alan thought of Melinda. Her beautiful eyes. Her laugh. Her smile. Everything she did filled his heart with joy, but she was no longer around, and a black void filled that spot instead. The void was impossible to fill. It would remain there forever.

  Charlotte thought of her friends and coworkers. It was the only community she had, and now many of them were gone. A few had made it out, like Trevor, but she would never forget the others. They were all good people. None of them deserved to die.

  Izzy thought of her father. The others called him Greene, but to her he was Daddy. He was the only person she knew, other than the labbies, and he was certainly the only person she loved. The one person in her life was taken, the only home she knew was left behind, and now she wandered with strangers, amidst a crowd of people. There were so many faces, but the only one she wanted to see was gone forever.

  Vince thought of Saul. Who else was there to think of? Their loss in Snow Peak was tragic, but Saul was his best friend. He was more than that. They defied death for two hundred years, and now for Saul, it was all over. A life spanning two centuries was turned to dust with the pull of a trigger. Behind that trigger stood a mad-man, the one responsible for all of it. Simon, the psycho, as Alan would put it. Vince’s memory of Saul was stained by the image of his headless body lying at the feet of that monster.

  They had all lost someone close. Death had risen up and snatched their loved ones from the mortal plane, dragging them into the mysterious depths of the afterlife. And what the afterlife brought, no one knew. None would know until death returned to claim their own lives. All they could do was show respect, and pray that life after death led to happiness.

  “Thank you,” the man continued, breaking the silence. “Now I would like to introduce our special guest. She is one of Mr. Greene’s former employees. She spent her days in the labs, working with subjects and helping to improve the City. Her name is Trish Beaumont.”

  A young woman joined the man on stage. He handed the microphone over and stepped back. The woman wore the familiar white lab coat. A pair of thick-framed glasses sat on the top of her nose.

  “Thank you, Warren,” she said, with her voice projecting through the speakers. “As he said, my name is Trish. I used to work in the Spire. I was there during the attack. There were a lot of brave men and women defending their home. Defending what made this City so great. Victor Greene was a triumphant man.”

  “I guess this is a ceremony for Greene,” Alan whispered.

  “Of course they’re going to mention him,” Charlotte said. “He’s one of the fallen, and had such a big impact on these people.”

  “He was a man with a vision,” the woman on stage continued, adjusting her glasses every few minutes. “A man whose only wish was to help others. We were all touched by his kindness. His generosity was boundless.” She paused and lowered her head. “In the last couple of years, I worked very close with Mr. Greene. I saw him every day. I worked by his side on a project close to his heart. Sadly, in his absence, the project will never come to light. Too much was lost in the wreckage. But that doesn’t mean we will forget what he did for us. He sacrificed so much to make our lives better. It is not only our duty to carry on his work. It is our privilege. It’s not what he would have wanted, but what he would have expected.”

  The crowd broke out in hollers and cheers, clapping and stomping their feet. Looking around, it became apparent to both Vince and Alan, that these were true supporters of the man they were trying to kill.

  The woman waved to the crowd and handed the microphone back to the man. “Inspiring words, Trish. An appropriate way to start off this ceremony. With a vision of hope for the future. It is true, we will carry on Victor Greene’s work. His body has perished, but his name lives on. We will not let Simon scare us with acts of terror. We will come together and strengthen as a community. Simon thinks we’ll just give up, but he’s wrong. We will not quit. We will persevere—”

  A blast shook the ground and bodies flew up in the air. The crowd scattered in fear. They screamed with terror and cried for help, shuffling to escape the area, but they were too tightly packed. Another blast went off, this time from behind. Vince turned away as a mist of blood moved past them. The taste of warm iron filled his mouth and lungs.

  There was no room to move, but the crowd pushed anyway. A great force pushed Vince forward and slammed his chest into the person in front of him. The increasing pressure cut off the circulation to his fingers. Alan stood by his side, screaming with discomfort.

  Charlotte grabbed Izzy and held her over her shoulders, above the crowd. Izzy’s scarf hooked one of Charlotte’s buttons and pulled right off. Charlotte ignored it and placed the girl on her shoulders. Some people nearby showed a glimpse of recognition when they saw her face, but most were too panicked to pay attention.

  “How do we get out?” Alan yelled to Vince.

  As the words left his mouth, two more blasts hit. They were closer and louder than the others. All sounds were muffled by an incessant ringing in their ears. A pocket of dead bodies fell inward to the ground and with the force of the pushing crowd, Vince, Alan, and Charlotte toppled over. Alan guided his fall to catch Izzy from Charlotte’s shoulders. A soft bed of corpses broke their fall and more were thrown on top. They were trapped in a sandwich of flesh and blood. Izzy screamed and cried. Tears and drool mixed together, dripping from her chin.

  Vince saw the pain in her eyes. He took a deep breath and pushed against the people on top of him. His face turned red, and his veins bulged out as he expended his energy. He lifted three bodies and tossed them aside. He got to his feet and wobbled left and right, dizzy from overexerting himself. After a brief moment of rest, he ran over to Alan, who had caught Izzy in his arms. He pulled bodies off one by one until he could reach Izzy. He pulled her out of the pile.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, forgetting about the ringing in his ears. The words came out garbled and nonsensical. He searched her body for cuts and bruises and placed her on the ground to help the others.

  Once Alan and Charlotte were up, he glanced around at the chaos. The crowd was scattered with people running in every direction. Limbs littered the ground, and thick blood stained their boots. Amidst the confusion, he saw a woman run into a crowd, strapped with explosives.

  “Suicide bombers!” Alan yelled. “That sick bastard. This is a funeral. Does he have no respect?”

  “Of course not!” Charlotte yelled back. “Haven’t you learned anything about him?”

  “But nobody’s this cruel.” Alan’s tone was of disbelief.

  “You would usually be right, but Simon is the exception.”

  “We need to get out of here!” Vince yelled, with the ringing in his ears finally dying down. “Fast!”

  Charlotte frantically looked around. “Follow me!” She led them away from the stage towards the back.

  A clear path opened up to a street. They sprinted towards the opening, Charlotte holding Izzy in her arms. Bombs exploded on either side of them. Screams echoed, and blood splashed onto the path.

  Alan slipped on a fresh patch of blood and fell hard, landing on his back and knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for air, but his lungs would not work.

  Vince stopped to help him up. He stuck out his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

  Alan clenched his chest, finally able to breathe. “Yeah I’m good.”

  Vince nodded, and turned forward to continue, but the gap in the crowd was gone. There was no more path the follow. Instead, four large Crowns were blocking their way. Vince turned in the other direction to see four more.

  “You ain’t going nowhere,” the biggest of the bunch said. They starting closing in, forcing Vince and the others to group together. “Nice scarves you got there.” He pointed to Izzy. “It looks like you’re missing yours. What a shame.” He yanked the scarf from Vince’s face. “Oh look who it is. The infamous Vincent Vigo. I would really enjoy killing you. You’re lucky he wants you alive.
” He charged in and punched Vince right in the nose. Vince’s eyes rolled back as he fell unconscious.

  FOURTEEN

  ELLA WAS BLINDED by the glaring light that was hanging from the ceiling. It swung back and forth in a rhythmic pattern. The screech of a chain pierced her ears with each swing. She tried to shade her eyes, but her arms were stuck. She turned her head to see a group of guards holding her wrists to the table she lay on. They were all dressed from head to toe in combat gear. A thick vest, rough gloves, and shiny helmet. She opened her mouth to yell, but nothing came out.

  A large figure, the silhouette of a man, hovered over her head, blocking the light. His face was hidden behind a surgical mask. His breath was loud and in sync with the swinging chain.

  He held up a scalpel, its metal edge glistening in the artificial light. “Don’t worry young girl.” His voice was deep and muffled. “You won’t feel a thing. You’re fast asleep.”

  Ella tried to tell him that she was not asleep, but still, her voice would not work. She heard her heart thumping in her chest, again, to the rhythm of the chain. As the man’s hand moved closer, she saw the sharp edges of the blade. She pulled and pushed her arms, struggling to break free, but the grip on her wrists was too tight. The scalpel plunged below her vision, towards her stomach. She shut her eyes, anticipating the feel of cold metal on her bare skin, waiting for the blade to slice through her belly like butter.

  She waited, but nothing came. She opened her eyes to see the man was gone. The rhythmic screech of the chain had stopped, and the swinging light had disappeared. Her arms were free from restraint. There were no more guards in the room. No one in the room at all. Just her. She sat up and looked around.

  The room was empty and well-lit with ceiling and floor lights. There was only the table she sat on and a desk in the far corner. A mug sat at the center of the desk. She hopped off the table, touching her bare feet to the cold tile, and walked to the desk. The mug held a steaming liquid. She leaned in and inhaled the scent of fresh tea.

  A thump came from across the room. She twisted around, waiting to see if it would happen again. Thump. It came from behind the door in the opposite corner. It was a sliding door, like the ones from the Spire. She approached it with caution, keeping an eye on the flashing button to the left. Thump. Thump. It was the sound of someone pounding on the metal from the other side.

  She opened her mouth and found that she was now able to speak. “Hello? Who’s there?” She crept even closer and pressed her palm against the door.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  She moved to the left and pressed the flashing button. Nothing happened. She pressed it again, and this time held it down. Still nothing. She pressed it a few more time, and gave up, stepping back to examine the door from a distance.

  The thumping grew louder and more rapid. The distressed sound of clawing joined in. She watched the door, both confused and scared of whatever was on the other side. Why did they so desperately want to get in? Thump. Thump. Thump. The rapid frequency reached an intense peak and then fell silent.

  She tilted her head, hesitant to do anything at all. She lifted her foot and stepped forward.

  The door slid open, and a body shot out towards her, slamming her in the face.

  Ella sprung out of her bed in a cold sweat. Her breath was short, and her head was spinning. She was not in the Spire. There were no soldiers. No man with a surgical mask. No thumping. She was safe and sound in her own cabin, stowed away from any danger. An unpleasant feeling dropped to her stomach. She sensed that Vince, Alan, and Charlotte were in great peril. Something had gone horribly wrong.

  FIFTEEN

  VINCE’S EYES SPRUNG open at the sound of a loud clang. He jolted up in confusion, disoriented by the blinding light through the bars. His eyes adjusted as another loud clang echoed off the walls. He sat up and turned towards the cell next to his. “That won’t do any good, Alan. Those bars are thick.”

  “What else am I going to do?” Alan asked, leaning back and slamming his heel into the steel bars.”

  “You’re wasting your energy.”

  Alan ignored him and continued to kick. “I can’t believe we’re back in Greene’s goddamn cell room.”

  “It’s Simon’s cell room now,” Charlotte said from the cell over. “I don’t know why he’s keeping us here, though. Why didn’t he just kill us?”

  “Because that’s the kind of sicko he is,” Alan said, finally giving up on the bars and falling back to lean against the concrete wall. “He enjoys watching us squirm.”

  “He knows we’re here to kill him,” Vince said. “Is he really that confident?”

  “That’s what taking down an empire does to you. It explodes your ego.”

  “Where’s the girl?” Vince asked. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s not in here with us,” Charlotte answered. “And if she is, she’s not responding.” She cleared her throat. “Izzy! Are you there?”

  They waited, but there was no response.

  “They must have taken her,” Vince said.

  “But why take her and leave us?”

  Alan sighed. “I don’t suppose we’re going to make sense of this anytime soon. Can we just focus on getting out of here? Then we can go searching for the girl.”

  “Right,” Charlotte agreed.

  “Check your pockets,” Vince said. “They must have searched us, but maybe they missed something.”

  They patted down their clothes. “Nope,” Alan said. “I got nothing.”

  “Me too,” Charlotte said.

  Vince patted down as well. His fingers ran around his belt. There was nothing there. He felt pants pockets. Also nothing. He felt through his cloak. There was something in his side pocket. “Wait a minute,” he said, holding it up between his thumb and index finger. It was a small capsule. “It’s the poison capsule.”

  “From the stealth mission?” Alan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why are you carrying that around?”

  “I forgot a had it. I don’t suppose it will help us get out of these cells.” He slipped it back into his pocket. “You were locked in here before. Did you learn anything about these cells?”

  “Not really,” Alan said. “We didn’t have to. You came to the rescue with Humphrey.”

  Vince glanced at the railing where Humphrey had tumbled over. “Humphrey can’t rescue us this time.”

  Charlotte pointed to the kiosk across the catwalk. “We can use those stations to call Greene’s workers. That doesn’t do us any good now, though.”

  “Do they still work?” Vince asked.

  “Why does it matter?” Alan said. “It’s not like we can reach it, and even if we could, there’s no one to call.”

  “I’m just gathering all of the information we have. You never know what will be useful.”

  “It should still be functional as long as the power is still on,” Charlotte said, “which seems to be the case. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to lock us…” She trailed off and moved closer to the bars to see the kiosk. She pointed to the bottom panel. “That’s strange. That light should be on.” She looked down to examine the lock on the door. She wiggled the latch with her hand. It was suspiciously loose. She backed away, leaned against the wall for balance, and kicked her weight into the latch. The door popped open. “I’m out.”

  Alan glanced at her as she walked by. “How in the world did you do that?”

  She approached the kiosk and tapped the screen. Nothing happened. “The power is off. At least on this level. The locks don’t work properly when the power is off. Simon must have shut it off when he freed everyone, and never bothered to turn it back on.”

  Vince kicked the latch, and his door swung open as well. Alan looked at him, both surprised and annoyed. “That’s what I was doing, and you told me to stop.”

  “You must have been kicking too softly,” Vince said blandly.

  “Hey, I take offense to that. I can kick just as hard as either of
you.”

  “You were kicking in the wrong spot,” Charlotte said. She tapped her finger against the metal latch. “This is the weak spot.”

  Alan assumed his kicking stance and slammed his boot into the latch. The door swung open just like the others. “See,” he said with a goofy smile. “I kick just as hard.”

  “Don’t hurt yourself,” Vince said.

  Alan’s eyes widened. “Woah, is that sarcasm coming from Vince?” He patted his back. “Would you look at that. He’s coming out of his shell.”

  Vince did not respond.

  “So Simon just forgot to lock us in,” Alan exclaimed. “We are damn lucky.”

  “Let’s hope that luck keeps up,” Charlotte said. “Now that we’re out, we need to find Izzy. Our best bet is the top floor, in Greene’s office. He’s probably up there, and if not, we can use Greene’s system to pinpoint recent activity in the Spire.”

  Alan clapped his hands. “Let’s go!” He took a step and hit his foot on the railing. “Ow! It’s so dark down here. You don’t have one of those portable glowing light doodads, do you?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “They took mine away when Greene locked me up.”

  They took a few deliberate steps, carefully watching their feet. Their bags sat in the cell next to Charlotte’s. Alan trotted over to find his. “Wow, he really didn’t try to hide our stuff. It’s all just lying right here.”

  “He’s getting sloppy,” Charlotte said. “I expected him to be smarter than this. These are silly mistakes. Things that a rookie would do.”

  Alan strapped his bag over his shoulder. “Hey, I’m not complaining. It just makes things easier for us.” He pulled out his rifle and examined its condition. “He even left our guns. How considerate.”

  They gathered their things and headed for the stairs, wading through the darkness of the lower cells. As they ascended the stairs, towards the glass ceiling, the sunlight grew brighter. They passed by numerous empty cells.