Copyright©2017 by Matt Shaw

Matt Shaw Publications

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The characters in this book are purely fictitious.

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Hell’s Reveal

by

MATT SHAW

Table of Contents

Previously in “Voyage to Hell”

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Previously in “Voyage to Hell”

People seemingly picked at random from across the Globe were invited on the maiden voyage of a new cruise-liner. Whilst some people were suspicious, the invitations explained that - as a new company - they wanted word of mouth to help push their business to the forefront of the industry. After all, it doesn’t matter how many adverts you run in magazines, commercials on the television - nothing is better advertising than hearing how great the company is through your friends. The cruise started successfully enough but soon turned more sinister when the patrons started drinking the water. Less than a day into the voyage, the passengers had started to turn on one another with unprecedented levels of hostility and violence. As the ship returned to the dock, only a handful of people had survived. By the following morning, all but four had died from their injuries. Three of those four had remained hidden throughout the escalating violence whilst only one of them had drunk the water and fought.

Her name was Michelle Clevenger, the Guest of Honour.

Chapter One

Michelle was on a hospital bed but not in a hospital ward. Her ankles and wrists were bound by heavy restraints keeping her pinned in place despite her struggles, now that she was awake.

A man in a white coat was sitting a few feet away from her with a clipboard in his lap and a pen in his hand.

‘Do you know how you got here?’ he asked.

‘Fuck you.’

‘I see...’ He made a note. ‘Do you know your name?’

‘Michelle. My name is Michelle.’

‘And do you remember my name?’

‘Cunt.’

The man smiled and made another note.

‘You look frustrated,’ Michelle said. ‘Undo these restraints and I’ll suck

your cock. Ease away some of those frustrations for you. Make you feel all warm inside and nice and relaxed. Unless... You can leave the restraints if you want? Just feed me your cock. I promise I won’t bite...’ She laughed before suddenly clamping her teeth down.

To his credit, the man ignored her, ‘Do you remember what happened on the ship?’

‘Some bitch shot me with a tranquilliser dart…’

The man nodded. ‘You were going to hurt them.’

Michelle smiled. ‘I’m going to hurt all of you.’

‘Oh?’

‘You know what happened on the boat. You made this happen, didn’t

you? You planned all of this... The lucky winners all getting a free cruise so you could run your experiments away from the public eye.’ Michelle laughed. ‘Not exactly in private now though, is it? Tell me - how many people died when the ship hit the docks?’

The man squirmed in his chair, uncomfortable with the knowledge of how much Michelle seemed to know. He couldn’t ask her how she knew so much. He didn’t want to admit that what she was saying had any truth. It wasn’t his place to. If they wanted to talk to her about it, they were more than welcome. His job was to see how much of her was left inside this body and how - unlike the others - she hadn’t died from the exposure to the chemical.

‘Who were you on vacation with?’ the man questioned her.

‘What has happened to my family?’ Michelle asked.

‘Do you know their names?’

‘Keith, Kyra, Dennis and Carol...’ Michelle asked again, ‘What has happened to my family?’

The man had nothing to lose in answering her. ‘At this stage, we would presume they’re dead. How did you survive though? Out of everyone on the boat - no one else has walked away... Did you fight? Did you hide?’

‘When I get out of here, are you going to fight? Are you going to hide away?’

The man smiled at her once again. All the talk of leaving... She wasn’t going anywhere. She had survived the exposure to the chemicals. She was their test subject now.

‘Are you going to tell me what happened on the boat? Are you going to let me know how you came to be one of the only people to survive?’

Michelle teased him. ‘You want my story?’

‘My colleagues and I would be interested to hear it, yes.’

The idea behind the chemical was to poison the enemies’ water supply. Those who drank the water would become increasingly violent towards their neighbours - undoubtedly killing them - before they themselves died from the toxins. The last thing they expected was for anyone to survive from drinking it as that, in itself, would cause a problem... A whole nation of violent, psychopathic individuals ready to rip apart those who entered their personal space. The man pressed Michelle for an answer.

‘So what did you do?’ he asked. ‘Did you fight or did you just stay hidden, only coming out of your hiding space when you felt it was safe to do so?’

‘I’ll tell you my story,’ Michelle said with a smile. ‘When you tell me what has happened to my family. There’s a picture of them in my purse. When you find them, you come back and tell me what happened to them and I’ll tell you how I managed to get out.’

‘It’s unfortunate but I can assure you that they’re dead. Three people survived - a family... Mother, father and a little daughter. They survived because they managed to stay hidden.’

‘I want to know how they died,’ Michelle continued. ‘I want the details.’

The man shifted in his seat. It was hard to give details when the bodies had already been sent for burning. ‘It would be the same way everyone went... They would have turned...’

‘You’re making it up. Go and get me the truth and I’ll tell you what happened to me. Otherwise,’ she threatened, ‘you’ll get nothing more from me.’

The man sighed. ‘Of course, we could just cut you up and see how you survived the ship and the toxins in your body.’

Michelle laughed. ‘You could do that but it wouldn’t be as entertaining.’ She paused a moment. ‘It’s not that I am asking much. I’m asking for you to tell me what happened to my family. Once I know exactly what happened, I can try to move on with my life and...’ She paused. Her mind had suddenly focused on her future and all she could see was violence, hatred and murder... Starting with the man sitting opposite her. Surprisingly enough, though, the thought didn’t scare her. It pleased her... She was looking forward to it and was already planning on what to do to him. She continued, ‘Tell me what happened to my family and take these restraints off and we’ll talk,’ she said with a smile.

The man looked towards a large two-way mirror on the other side of the room. He knew his colleagues were in there now, talking amongst themselves - discussing how best to move forward. On the one hand they could just terminate her and dissect her - find out what was going on in her body. On the other hand, they could stop the bodies from being burned until they found her family... Relay back to her what had happened and then listen to what she had to say. Sitting there, he knew the easiest answer - made even easier by the fact that he knew, for certain, that they would end up cutting her up regardless. But, frustratingly, he also knew they’d already be in there, discussing how best to find out what had happened to her family. They wanted more than what was going on inside her body, with her organs, they wanted a story. They wanted to know what she was thinking, how she was feeling, exactly how much of the woman lying there was the woman who’d initially been invited to the experiment. Was there any trace of Michelle still there or had the toxins replaced the person she was and twisted her beyond recognition now?

The man stood up and tucked the clipboard under his arm. He smiled at Michelle and turned towards the locked door. As he neared it, the door clicked open with a loud buzz - operated by someone on the opposite side.

‘So do we have a deal?’ Michelle asked.

He paused before stepping out. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ And, with that, he left the room.

Michelle called out to him, ‘The offer of a blow job is still on the table. I promise not to bite it off.’ She started laughing. As the overhead lights dimmed down she started doing an over-exaggerated licking gesture with her tongue poking from her dry mouth. ‘I’ll suck it good!’

*

The security guard asked the doctor, ‘Are you tempted?’ as he stepped from Michelle’s room. As the door slammed shut behind the man, the bolt automatically clamping across - locking the room, the security guard peered through the reinforced window that was cut into the thick metal door. The guard pulled away, unable to see Michelle on the other side now that the lights were off. The doctor turned to the guard. He didn’t need him to explain what he meant.

‘Do you know how many people she has killed?’ the doctor asked, the clipboard still tucked under his arm.

The security guard shook his head.

‘No. Neither do we. So - with that in mind - do you honestly think anyone in their right frame of mind would want to stick their genitals in her mouth?’ The doctor raised an eyebrow.

The security guard laughed. ‘She’d be a great fuck though, right?’ He paused a moment to reflect upon the thought of doing the deed with her and then laughed again. ‘Reminds me of what my mates used to say down the pub. You want a great fuck? When you’re banging your wife in doggy position - call her by her sister’s name and then hold on tight as she bucks around trying to shake you off.’ His laughter continued. The doctor didn’t even smile. ‘Can you picture it?’ the security guard asked, unsure as to whether he’d explained it properly.

‘I have a husband waiting for me at home,’ the doctor said.

The security guard frowned a moment, his laughter immediately cut short. A split second, he was laughing again. In his mind, he’d decided the doctor was joking. He hadn’t been. The doctor stepped into the next room to join his colleagues, ever hopeful that the conversation they’d be having was a little more intelligent.

‘Ensure that door stays locked!’ the doctor said, referring to the door leading to Michelle’s room. With that, he pulled the door to his own room shut and turned into the observation room. ‘You know, I don’t think that guy is mentally stable…’ He stopped in his tracks when he noticed his colleagues were huddled around a portable television set in the corner of the room. ‘What the fuck…?’

‘Ssh. It’s nearly done,’ one of his colleagues, Jeremy, said.

Alan - the doctor - tossed the clipboard down on the table next to him and approached the television to see what had his colleagues’ attention, grabbing one of the sugar-ringed donuts as he did so. The Game was playing on the screen - a show broadcast around the world via private satellites in which contestants were forced to extreme lengths in order to survive. Whilst it was nothing to do with the government body they worked for, there was a good relationship between the makers of the show and Alan’s own company but - even so - it didn’t mean they were supposed to be sitting around watching it. Alan leaned passed his colleagues and turned the set off.

‘What the fuck?’ Jeremy spun round on his office chair to face Alan, a look of disgust on his face. ‘We have money on that…’ The man sitting with Jeremy, Thomas, turned to face Alan too. A look on his face that also suggested he wasn’t best pleased with Alan’s actions. All three men had worked for the company for a little over the year now and had mostly become complacent in their work, mainly because most days were filled with various admin tasks which had paved the way for this latest experiment. First they had had to file the results from when the contaminated water was introduced to a herd of cows, then they had to file the names of the unwitting volunteers who were going to stay in one of the government’s many compounds - out in the country, part of another experiment to see what people would do if they believed the end of the world had happened. Then there was the preparation of the invitations for the cruise guests. With so little action over the year - now the time had come to see the results of their menial tasks, clearly they had lost the passion that they had once had. Or rather, Jeremy and Thomas had. Alan was still interested but then, he was paid more given his experience.

Jeremy leaned towards the television set’s on switch. Before his finger could connect, he was dragged up from his chair and slammed hard against the wall by Alan. Thomas’ only reaction was to get up from his chair and move away.

‘Get the fuck off me!’ Jeremy spat.

‘All these months, building up to this experiment and we walk away with something worth investigating… Something that could impact our work and lead onto to bigger and better and you’d rather watch some shit show… If you don’t want to be here anymore, do all of us a favour and fucking quit.’ He turned to Thomas, his hands still tight around Jeremy’s collar. ‘Same goes for you too.’ Alan had hated this past year just as much as his two colleagues, and probably more than half the rest of the staff working here. You couldn’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs though and he viewed the last year as just that - breaking eggs. Now, finally, they had the ingredients to start making the omelette and with this new rogue ingredient thrown in - in the shape of someone seemingly immune to the toxins - there was a chance for things to get interesting. Even, maybe, some new experiments to look into. For instance, if this woman was immune - maybe there’d be a way to increase the levels of violence in individuals but have it more aimed towards specific people instead of having them attack anyone and everyone. Imagine - soldiers dosed up on a drug that increases their hostility towards the enemy. They could jack up on this stuff, go to battle and then have it wear off before they returned home. And that idea was just off the top of Alan’s head. There was so much potential here, with this one survivor, and Alan wasn’t about to let these two idiots fuck it up for him because they were more interested in some poxy gameshow. The fucking idiots.

Slowly Alan released Jeremy’s collar.

‘Did you two pay any fucking attention as to what was going on in there or were you too busy watching the television?’ The question was answered with a sheepish look between his two colleagues. Alan shook his head, his frustration continuing to grow. ‘She wants to know what happened to her family. She finds that out - she’ll tell us what happened to her. Until then - she’s saying shit.’

‘They’re probably dead.’

‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Alan slumped himself down in one of the chairs adjacent to the observation window. His eyes fixed on Michelle who was seemingly staring right back even though he knew she couldn’t see him. All she’d be seeing was her own fucked-up reflection.

‘Why do we need to know what happened to her? I mean - emotionally? Surely it would be better to know what is happening to her internally? Run some bloods, keep an eye on her stats and then - all else fails - cut her open! Organs don’t lie.’

And there it was, the clear lack of foresight. Solve the mystery as to why she survived the toxins but lose the opportunity to really understand the consequences of her survival moving forward. She might have survived so far but what’s to say something bad doesn’t happen tomorrow? By cutting her up now, for her, there is no tomorrow. She needed to be studied. She needed to be observed. She needed to live.

For now.

Sadly it wasn’t just their opinion either. The fact of the matter was, that when the superiors learned of Michelle’s survival, and that they’d brought her back to the compound - their exact order was to just terminate her and cut her up. But having spoken to her, Alan couldn’t do that. Not yet anyway. Not until he had a chance to try and figure out what was going on with her.

‘Get her file, get photos of her family and…’

‘You’re joking,’ Thomas cut in. He knew where Alan was going.

Alan shook his head. ‘Get down to the warehouse and start looking through the bodies until you find them.’ Alan turned to Jeremy. ‘You can help. Most have been labelled and identified now so - if you’re lucky - it won’t be that hard.’

‘And if they have been burned already?’

‘Not until morning.’ Without taking his eyes from Michelle, he said, ‘Best be quick.’ Alan knew he’d best be quick too. He needed to talk to his superior, Mr. Clifton and tell him what was going on. Convince him that he would need time with the patient to try and figure out exactly how she was still alive and what was happening within - not just her body - her brain too. He didn’t hold out much hope for being given much of a timeframe though. To the superiors, what happened on the cruise-liner was a success. They wouldn't care why this woman had survived and they certainly wouldn’t be releasing her back to society - not because she was a danger but because they’d worry she would start talking, blaming the government for what had happened. The government had enough eyes on them already, from people dissatisfied with what were perceived as “normal” politics. God only knows what would happen if these tests ever got out too. Alan turned to Jeremy and Thomas and asked, ‘Are you still here?’

Chapter Two

All of the bodies had been removed from the liner and taken to a large warehouse on the outskirts of town. The idea being that each and every one was checked over by the medical examiners - covered head to foot in protective suits - before being taken away for incineration. There were no burials permitted. All who died on the ship were burned and those who came asking for the remains of loved ones - turned away and told of a “contagious epidemic”. It didn’t matter whether the next of kin bought into it at all, they’d never discover the truth: The harsh reality being that, if they ever came a sniffing for it, they’d be made to disappear too.

It was impossible to tell how most of the corpses had died due to the fact the majority of them had consumed some of the toxins which caused them to cook from the inside out. A man with a knife in his shoulder: Did he die as a result of the knife wound or from the toxins that had - looking at him - obviously fried him? A woman with her eye hanging out - same question: Was that enough to kill her? Doubtful. Same for Michelle’s family. Or at least, the same for Carol. She had been cooked from the inside out so any other injuries were practically impossible to see. Dennis and Kyra hadn’t had the water though so - their injuries were apparent. Kyra’s head had been bashed in with God only knew what and Dennis still had a glass bottle inserted up through his brain.

As Thomas tried not to vomit, Jeremy checked through the file Alan had given him to ensure they had definitely been brought to the right bodies. Satisfied, he tucked the file under his arm and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his mobile phone. Thomas looked at him with disgust as Jeremy flipped the camera on. A second later and he was snapping shots, only stopping when he noticed Thomas looking at him with raised eyebrows.

‘She might ask for proof,’ Jeremy said with a shrug of his shoulders. He slipped the phone back into his pocket after switching the screen off. Jeremy took a hold of the file again and turned for the door. ‘Come on, let’s get back to the compound. Any luck we’ll catch the end of The Game.’ Jeremy stopped in his tracks and turned to Thomas with a sudden realisation written all over his face. It was a look that Thomas noticed.

‘What?’

‘You. Walking around this place, trying not to throw up.’

‘So?’

‘But you’re fine watching people kill each other on The Game?’

Thomas shrugged. ‘It’s not real, is it?’

Jeremy didn’t know how to respond. The Game was very much real. People were snatched from the streets and forced to fight their way through various tasks. Not everyone survived and - when they didn’t - the chances are, it was bloody. Jeremy went to say something but stopped himself. He shook his head.

‘It’s on the television. It’s not like we’re standing in the room with the corpses, is it?’ Thomas explained when he realised what Jeremy’s issue was. ‘Anyway, that’s not the problem, it’s the fucking smell. The dead smell…’

‘Dead?’ Jeremy finished Thomas’ sentence for him and shook his head again before walking towards the exit. Thomas hesitated a moment and followed, one final - sickened - look at the carnage around him. He kept telling himself, at least the pay was good.

*

Alan was sitting in a plush office, across a large table from his superior - a stern looking man whom he only knew as Mr. Clifton despite working there for a while now. His boss - a balding man in his fifties - peered over the rim of his glasses as Alan tried not to squirm in his glance.

‘You made a deal with her?’ Mr. Clifton asked, a bushy eyebrow raised. ‘Why make a deal with her when you can find all the answers we need with nothing more than a medical officer and a scalpel?’

‘I think just cutting her up would be a mistake.’

‘I see.’

‘We can learn more from her if she is alive. I mean, just because she hasn’t died from exposure now - it doesn’t mean it won’t happen.’

‘No, it doesn’t.’

‘By keeping her alive, we can evaluate what it has done to her mental state and…’

‘But we don’t care about her mental state. The whole point of the serum was to poison people. With most of the people who’d taken it dying from the toxic levels and all of them turning hostile, as intended, it’s fair to say we have a successful new weapon on our hands, yes? Nothing stopping us from mass-producing it and shipping it off for insertion into the enemy’s water supplies.’

‘And nothing saying the enemies will react the same way as the cows, or the people on the cruise-liner…’

Mr. Clifton smiled. He liked the fact Alan liked to question him from time to time. Not because he liked a challenge but rather, he liked the opportunity to remind him who was in charge.

‘Do I need to remind you,’ he started.

Alan finished, ‘I know you’re in charge and I know I’m paid to do what you tell me to but if we kill her and cut her up - we will be losing so much more that we could learn. We should keep her alive, learn all we can from her mental state - see how much the toxins have changed her mind… See if - in time - she will turn back to the woman she was before the trip and - more importantly - see if the toxins will eventually kill her or whether her immunity is a genuine fact. What if the internal changes are more subtle than the others? She might suddenly burn up tomorrow but we won’t know that because we would have cut her up today.’ He continued, ‘We could learn from this and devise something better that the government can use.’

Mr. Clifton sighed as was often the way when he was bored. A loud, audible noise which silenced those who heard it as they knew they were skating on thin ice. This wasn’t the kind of job you were fired from. It was the kind of job that got you killed if you didn’t toe the line - a fact that was only made apparent once you’d started and been exposed to secrets that would never be allowed out and if that meant a rogue employee having an “accident” at work then so be it. Mr. Clifton’s sigh suggested you were one step closer to said accident.

‘I want to know what is happening to her insides. We need to find out why she survived and eliminate the possibility of others being able to do the same. We don’t want to poison towns, villages - whole damned countries - and then head on over to claim the land as our own only to find pockets of individuals who are immune. Do you understand?’

‘A week? If I could just have…’

‘Do you understand?’ Mr. Clifton’s voice didn’t raise but the tone definitely changed. The thin ice Alan had been standing on had now started to crack.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. I’ll expect a report on my desk tomorrow night.’

Alan nodded and stood up as Mr. Clifton turned his attention back to the various emails on his laptop’s computer screen.

‘Thank you for your time,’ Alan said, fully aware which side his bread was buttered on. Mr. Clifton didn’t answer as Alan made his way to the office door, desperate to get out. No sooner had he stepped outside, and closed the door behind him, Alan reached for his mobile phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. As he walked down the corridor, he scrolled through his contacts for Jeremy’s number. Hopefully they’d have some news for him with regards to what had happened to Michelle’s family. If they did, he could talk to her tonight - glean all he could about her mental state before they cut her up the next day. He pressed on Jeremy’s name. The line connected and the phone started to ring. ‘Come on, you son of a bitch, pick up…’

‘Hello?’

‘It’s me.’

‘I know. Caller I.D.’

‘Tell me you have some good news for me?’

‘We found them.’

‘And you got the pictures?’

‘I did.’

‘Finally. Some good news. Where are you now?’

‘On the way back.’

‘I can’t wait that long, Mr. Clifton wants her to be cut open tomorrow. Just send the photos through via text so I can at least spend the night with her before we lose this opportunity.’

‘Does Mr. Clifton know?’

‘Just send the fucking photos through…’

‘Not until you send me a text stating this is your idea and we’re only going along with it because we answer to you in this department.’

‘Are you having a laugh? Taking the piss?’

‘Send the text and I’ll send the photos.’

‘You realise I could have you fired for disobeying me, right?’

‘You could have us disciplined, yes, but - you’re going against your own boss so wouldn’t that make you some kind of hypocrite. Send me the message and I’ll send the photos. I’m not playing. You might be happy to try and fuck up your career but…’

‘You want to talk careers? You were watching the television earlier…’

‘Sorry, you’re breaking up…’

‘Fuck you. Just send the photos through…’

‘I can’t hear you. Hello? Hello? Anyone there?’ Before the line was cut off, Alan heard the sound of Thomas laughing.

‘Son of a fucking bitch!’ He raised his phone ready to slam it down onto the hard floor pausing only at the last minute. He took a few deep breaths and then lowered his arm. Opening his text app, he sent the requested message in the hope that - before he got back to Michelle’s room - the text would have reached the recipient and, more importantly, the photos delivered to his.

Chapter Three

Michelle opened her eyes. The security guard, standing at the foot of the bed startled her but she didn’t show it. The same man from earlier, watching her sleep from the foot of his bed - his left hand in his black trouser pocket. Catching her eye, he smiled at her and she smiled back.

‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ Michelle said.

‘I can be really quiet when I need to be,’ the guard said. He continued, ‘The pay in this job isn’t the best and the people working here can be stuck up pricks but,’ he continued, ‘I do like the night-shifts. You know, the early hours of the morning when you’re left to your own devices to do what you want.’ He grinned wider. ‘Some people like to bring a book to work but I like to find other ways to occupy myself, you know?’

Michelle had already noticed the fact that his hand was moving, slowly but surely, in his pocket as he stroked himself through the material of the trousers. Michelle pushed the thin blanket away from herself so that she just lay there in nothing more than a hospital gown. ‘Hot in here,’ she gave as her excuse. The guard’s eyes went wider. She continued, ‘I’m not sure what I would do if I were in your position. I mean, I don’t know where we are so not entirely sure what is around us. You know - things to occupy myself with on a boring shift.’

The guard smiled. ‘Nice try.’

‘What do you mean?’ Michelle said, acting innocent.

‘You want me to tell you where you are. Well, doesn’t work like that.’

‘Why would I care where I am? I’m comfortable and they’ve gone to get my family.’ Michelle’s eyes drifted downwards to the movement within the man’s trousers. Without a word, she slightly parted her legs - enough to tease the guard without actually showing him what he clearly wanted. Her eyes moved back to his own gaze which was exactly where she had thought it would be - looking right between her eyes. She grinned as - probably without even realising it - he licked his lips.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

‘Not important.’ His eyes didn’t move from where they were fixed.

‘Well, not important, when you said you liked to walk around looking for things to do… I can think of something that might pass some time…’ Her tone, seductive and silky. The guard’s eyes wandered to Michelle’s face. Her eyes, glistening with a twinkle of naughtiness.

‘Oh?’

‘You said you can be quiet when you need to be,’ she continued, ‘well - so can I.’ She pulled at the leather cuffs binding her to the side-rails of the bed. An obvious attempt to move her hands down to her crotch as her legs parted a little further. A frustration brewing that she couldn’t touch herself as he was doing to himself. The guard was so obviously straining to see up her snatch. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. ‘You want to see?’

‘Yes.’

‘You first,’ she teased - moving her legs ever-so-slightly again.

‘What?’

‘Get it out. Show me what you’re working with,’ she said with a nod towards his cock.

The guard, a foolish man named Joseph Pimenta, grinned and - without needing to be asked again - reached into his pants and withdrew his uncut cock. He continued stroking it as Michelle smiled and licked her lips. It wasn’t the biggest of dicks but neither was it the smallest. The girth wasn’t much to write home about though, not that Michelle said this. Instead of talking, she opened her legs a little wider so that now he had a full view of her unshaven bush and pussy.

‘You like?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’ Joseph was practically salivating. He knew better than to touch though despite there being a desperation to do just that. A need to stick his cock in. A desire to taste the sweet sweaty juices… He started stroking himself harder despite knowing he couldn’t cum - not outside of his pants at least. Not on the floor where the evidence would likely remain no matter how well he tried to clean it up. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

Michelle opened her hand closest to him out, stretching her fingers wide as though trying to reach for him. ‘Come here,’ she purred.

‘I don’t know…’

She frowned. ‘Come on - what can I do from here?’ She smiled sweetly. ‘If you let me stroke you, I’ll let you stroke me…’ Her invitation was enough to entice him over. He closed the gap between the pair of them so that she could run her fingers across the smooth skin of his shaft. He sighed in pleasure. A little pre-cum on the tip of his cock’s head. Still smiling, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and started to stroke him as best as the restraints permitted. Without being asked, he leaned down to between her legs with outstretched fingers. Nervously, he started stroking her pussy - first running his fingers up her slit and then having them circle her clitoris. ‘You’ve done that before,’ she said - still with the smile on her mouth. ‘You know, if you undo the leather cuff…’

‘I can’t do that.’

‘And I can’t wank you as well with it on. Wouldn’t you want me to masturbate you until you climax? My strong hand stroking up and down, milking you of every last drop…’

‘Fuck…’

‘Come on - what am I going to do? A little girl like me against a big, strong man such as yourself?’

‘Fuck it…’

Joseph pulled his fingers out of her long enough to fumble clumsily with the one restraint stopping her from being able to hand-fuck him properly. He opened it up and she pulled her wrist free with a sigh. An imprint left behind on her wrist. She rotated her wrist a couple of times, with some audible clicks of bone in the process, before reaching back for his dick. He - in turn - started pushing into her moist cunt once more.

‘See which of us can cum first, yeah?’ she purred.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t care if she had an orgasm or not. For now, all he was thinking about was his own sweet release. Typical, selfish prick.

‘Do you like it when I do this?’ she asked, stroking him harder.

‘Yeah…’

‘Or like this?’ She slowed her hand movements.

‘Faster.’

She increased her speed again.

‘Fuck,’ he said as he closed his eyes.

‘What about when I do this?’ she asked. Without further warning, she tightened her grip on his dick before violently snapping his erection upwards with a whip of her wrist. Joseph immediately screamed - a scream more high-pitched than Michelle had ever heard before - as he fell to the floor, both hands grabbing at his dick. He screamed again when he looked down and realised - halfway down the shaft - there was a ninety degree angle in the flesh with a bleeding rip across the top of the skin. By the time he screamed for a third time - higher pitched still - Michelle had undone the other restraint and jumped from the bed. Joseph made no attempt to stop her as he continued rolling around in agony, screaming loudly. Without uttering a word Michelle crouched over him and started to repeatedly chop her hand down into his throat, the hard bone smashing into his windpipe until it finally crushed it - cutting off his air supply (and screams). She stayed there, watching, as he coughed bubbles of blood. A minute later and he was still - his green eyes fixed onto her own emotionless gaze.

Michelle stood up and then leaned down towards Joseph’s identification badge which was clipped to the dead man’s leather belt. She pulled it away and turned for the door without so much of an attempt to find any proper clothes. She scanned Joseph’s I.D badge over the door’s electronic scanner and - as soon as the lock buzzed across - she stepped from the room with her naked arse exposed in the crack of the hospital gown.

The door shut behind her. The lock clicked across.

*

As the elevator jerked to life and started its downward journey towards the required floor, Alan’s mobile phone pinged through a message. He smiled when he noticed it was a picture message. Clearly his text of reassurance had hit the sweet spot required. His smile broadened when the pictures loaded through: Dennis, Carol and Kyra. One missing. Michelle’s husband. No more photos. Alan sighed. Hopefully this would be enough. It had to be enough otherwise this experiment was at a close for him and he was back to doing menial admin tasks until the next “thing” came through for him. He sighed, on the plus side, he knew it wouldn’t be long before the next set of experiments. That was the good thing about this place, and these people, there was always some new test, or scheme, that they wanted to experiment with - all, apparently, for the greater good.

The elevator pinged and the lift jolted to a violent stop as it reached its floor. A quick glance to the digital display above the numberless buttons to check it was the right floor (it was) and the doors slowly parted. Without paying much attention, Alan stepped out only to stop when he finally looked up. His heart skipped a beat.

Chapter Four

The battered old Ford Focus turned into the compound and was immediately stopped at the check-point barrier. Those without proper authority were turned away and those with the correct forms of identification, let through with little question. Thomas held his I.D card up as the military-dressed soldier leaned down to the window. The officer’s eyes quickly scanned the card before he stood up straight and waved the car through. A second officer, standing within the small checkpoint booth, operated the barrier which quickly rose. Thomas nodded his head as a thank you and Jeremy drove the car towards the main compound.

The compound itself was mostly a series of small buildings - most only one room, much like a brick-work shack. Inside each of these buildings were computer desks and monitoring stations - each shack assigned to a different experiment. The experiments themselves unfolding beyond the large concrete wall at the far end of the compound, all tucked away and all top secret.

In the centre of the compound was a much larger building. The main hub of the operations. When viewing the building, as you drove up to the parking spaces outside of it, it looked as though it was two stories tall but - unseen by most - beneath the earth’s surface, the building continued down and down and down. Multiple levels filled with experimentation chambers, operating theatres, a hospital ward, offices, levels dedicated to admin and, lower still, a floor dedicated to the darkest of the government’s secrets. Most employees only had access to a handful of the levels and had little to no idea what happened on the floors they couldn’t go to. All employees knew better than to ask questions too.

The Ford Focus pulled into a parking spot with minimal effort. Jeremy reached for the key, sticking from the ignition, and twisted it. The engine shut off immediately. The car’s lights did the same when the key was pulled from the ignition. Jeremy leaned back and grabbed his phone from his inside pocket. A quick check to see if any further messages had come through from Alan. Nothing. Not even a thank you for the photos which Jeremy had sent through to him.

‘Did you hear about that guy who suddenly grew a conscience?’ Thomas asked.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘That experiment. You know, the one where they inject the prisoners with that shit…’ Thomas was referring to another of the government’s experiments. On paper, if you had no morals, it was a fairly good idea: All prisoners would be injected with a serum that effectively turned them into brainless bodies. People who could be easily manipulated to work in any situation. Instead of having a prison filled with people likely to repeat offend when they were released, you would - instead - have an army of people who would do exactly what was asked of them without hesitation. Half slave and half zombie. People who could be used to do the unpleasant jobs that no one wanted. Sadly the serum was never a hundred percent effective and so the tests continued. Most tests ended with the prisoners dying from multiple organ failure, or brain-death, but occasionally the prisoners would turn into… something else. Deformed creatures with a taste for flesh. When this happened, those prisoners were dumped over the wall to help with the back story of what was happening on the other side: A second experiment where people were dumped with their memories wiped and two new memories placed. The first memory being that the people they were with were family. The second memory being that the end of the world had happened. The point of this experiment? A simple test to see if it was worth trying to save people if the end of the world did happen. Without a government in charge, without rules of society - what would happen to the average person? The tests were revealing some interesting results. As for the prisoners, what was there part in this test? The prisoners - the ones changed by the serum - were left to roam in the woods between the houses over there. On the rare occasion the “families” tried to venture out to see if they could find help - they would come across the prisoners. Sometimes they’d run back to their houses and barricade themselves in - their fear that the end of the world was very real, confirmed. Sometimes the prisoners would attack - and eat - them. Either result was seen as a win by the people watching said experiment. With regards to Thomas, he was talking about one of the medical bodies whose job it was to inject the screaming prisoners with the latest serum. One day the guy - whose name Thomas had forgotten - just snapped. He woke up one day and decided he didn’t want to do it anymore. Again, this wasn’t the kind of job you refused to do or simply gave notice for. When you signed up for this, you signed up for life.

Thomas continued, ‘There was a guy who started to kick off about what was going on. He said he didn’t want to do it anymore. Did you not hear about this?’

‘I did.’

‘They killed him.’

‘I know.’

‘Not only that, they killed his whole team as an example to everyone else.’

‘I know.’

‘They said they wanted to be sure they’d caught all of the traitors. Because they worked under this guy - they said they couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t poisoned their mind to the scheme too. Easier to wipe them all out and hire a fresh new team. One, they said, that would be grateful for the opportunity.’

‘I said I fucking know.’

‘If they think Alan is going against what is asked of him - and you must already be thinking this too given the fact you got him to text you saying that this is all his idea and you’re only a part of it because he is your superior… They’ll not only kill him but they will kill us too.’

Jeremy looked at Thomas. ‘Why would they kill us when I have the text? It’s proof that we’re just following orders. It’s proof that we do what is asked of us without question.’

‘But do you honestly think that will be enough? Something feels really wrong about this. Did you see Alan’s face. After they’d brought Michelle in, he called upstairs to say what was happening. Did you see his face when he made that call? One minute he seemed to be excited and the next - before the call finished - his mood had changed. And he has been on edge still.’ Thomas paused a moment, waiting for Jeremy to say something. He didn’t though. He didn’t have to. ‘Something was said on the phone, something he didn’t tell us.’ He reiterated, ‘I’m telling you, I have a bad feeling about this.’

Jeremy spoke slowly so Thomas couldn’t misunderstand him, ‘I know. Why do… you… think… I… I have… the text….’

Thomas sighed. ‘I’m glad you’re confident a text will be enough. From what I’ve seen, and heard, the bigger bosses aren’t exactly the most forgiving of people. If he has gone against them - they will kill him. I’d be surprised if they don’t kill us too just to teach everyone else another fucking lesson.’

Jeremy’s fingers tapped on his mobile phone’s screen. A second later and Thomas’ own phone pinged through with a message. Jeremy had forwarded the text from Alan.

‘I’ve sent you the message too so you have it on your phone too.’

‘A fucking text. These people… Do you honestly think these people give a fuck about a text message? If they think they’re being taken for fools or that their staff are going against their plans then…’ Thomas stopped speaking. ‘We should just turn this car around and fuck off. Get out of here. Leave.’

‘And go where? Home? Because you don’t think they will find us there? Look, we leave and we look guilty of something. They will kill us and our families. That is a lesson they will be looking to teach the other staff here. We stay, we do our job and if shit kicks off - we stick together and show the texts and hope for the fucking best.’

Thomas sighed again. ‘This is bullshit.’

‘Come on, let’s get in there.’

Jeremy opened his car door and went to climb out. Thomas stopped him.

‘Now what?’

‘What about if we talk to Mr. Clifton ourselves? We could say that Alan is acting strange.’

‘For one - do you even know where his office is? Because I sure as hellfire don’t. For two - what if Alan is doing exactly what he has been told? We immediately look like cunts for questioning it. I’m sure there won’t be any comeback to that one, huh?’

‘I told my wife I wasn’t sure about taking this job. I was offered another at the same time but the money was nowhere near what this was paying. I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like had I taken…’

‘Just shut the fuck up. This is our life. This was our choice. Now, come on, we need to get in there to see what’s what. You watch, he’s probably just tired or some shit like that. For all we know he is doing exactly what was asked of him and he’s just grumpy because he was hoping for an earlier night. Come on.’

Jeremy didn’t wait for Thomas. He grabbed the file from the back seat and climbed from the car, slamming the door behind him. He leaned down to the window and looked through to Thomas. Thomas sighed again and climbed from his side of the vehicle. Jeremy locked the car up when Thomas closed his door and the two of them walked towards the central building.

Chapter Five

‘I know what happened to your family,’ Alan said with a desperate attempt to keep his voice calm and collect even though he knew this woman - Michelle - was dangerous and particularly unstable. To his surprise, Michelle started to laugh from where she stood - further down the corridor. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘I don’t give a fuck about what happened to my family.’

‘What?’

‘They’re dead, yes?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘So what good - exactly - would it do for me to know how they died? Will it bring them back? Will it give me some peace of mind? No, I don’t think so.’ She laughed again. ‘The only reason I told you I wanted to know was because I was buying myself enough time to get out of here.’

Alan noticed her hand was red with blood. His mind immediately played back the earlier conversation with the security guard. It took less than a second to put two and two together to figure out how she had got out.

‘To be honest I’m surprised you even bothered to find out what happened. Clearly, given what happened on the ship, you weren’t expecting people to survive. I’m surprised that - when that bitch shot me with the tranquilliser gun - it wasn’t with a real bullet. Still, fair to say it won’t be long before it is a real bullet used on me. Am I right?’

‘We’re trying to figure out what happened on the ship,’ Alan said with both his hands raised defensively. The elevator doors tried to shut for the second time since he had noticed Michelle standing in the corridor. They were, again, stopped by his heel.

Michelle shook her head, almost disappointed that he was so blatantly lying to her. ‘No,’ she said, ‘you’re trying to figure out how I survived from whatever shit you put in the water.’

Alan squirmed again. How did she know this? The only explanation was - when she was supposedly out cold - she was actually awake and listening, taking in all of the information that she could.

‘You’re right,’ Alan said. A different approach. ‘I work for the government and we were running an experiment. We wanted to make an invisible drug that we could slip into water supplies in order to turn people homicidal. Something we can smuggle into the water supplies of countries we’re at war with in order to tear the countries apart from the inside out without having to send in our troops or drop bombs. A silent killer that eventually kills the people who have ingested it. No survivors, just an unbroken landscape and some bodies to clean up.’ He continued, ‘We don’t understand how you survived but want to try to learn more.’

Michelle laughed. ‘Nothing silent about that boat. Lots of people screaming as they had their faces caved in, heads stamped on, limbs removed… Lots of screaming.’

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Alan asked.

The elevator door tried to shut again. Stopped for a third time.

‘I’m going home.’

‘Home? The people I worked for picked innocent people, like your family, and killed them all as part of an experiment. Do you really think they’ll let you go home?’

Michelle smiled. ‘I’m not asking.’ She playfully teased ‘I’m offering hand jobs in return. Would you like one?’ She winked.

‘They won’t let you out.’

‘I’ll kill anyone that stands in my way.’

‘And if you do manage to get out, this isn’t the only compound. There are others just like this. Bigger ones too. They’re all over the country. If you do get out of this one, there are more people who know about you and who will come to terminate you before you get a chance to tell anyone what really happened on that ship.’

‘And what are they saying did happen?’

‘An unknown outbreak that caused mass-hysteria. Something they will say they are looking into although no answers will ever be given.’

‘Innocent people died, do you really think the people will leave it?’

‘They’ll create a war overseas and get them talking about that instead. Or there will be an outbreak of Ebola, or something similar, to cause mass panic instead. Bird-flu maybe?’ Alan continued, ‘How did you think AIDS started?’

The elevator doors tried to close on the back of his heel for a fourth time. Michelle took another step forward. Her fists were clenched, ready for a fight - a fight which Alan normally wouldn’t be worried about but given the fact she was jacked-up on the serum, he knew she would be more than a handful.

‘They want to kill you,’ Alan said.

‘Of course they do.’

‘But I don’t.’

‘Really?’

‘I want to learn from you. I want to know how you survived. I want to know have it has affected you psychologically and how it will do so over the years. Cutting you up to look at your organs isn’t what I would call progress. If anything it is a backward step but these people don’t see that. Same as when the aliens land. Instead of trying to learn from other beings, they’ll just want to cut them up to see how they work on the inside.’

‘You’re calling me an alien?’

‘I’m calling you something that should be learned from. They will kill you if you try and leave this place. They will put the compound on lock down and all of the people out there with rifles will come hunting for you.’

‘How many do you think I can kill before they kill me? I reckon a lot.’

‘Let me help you.’

‘Help me?’

‘You don’t even know the way out of here. It’s not a simple jump in the elevator and a quick ride to the exit. It’s like a maze to people who don’t know the area. Trust me. The lift doesn’t even have buttons… You don’t know what floor you’re on and - believe me when I say it - the buttons in the lift make little sense to people. They’re purposefully not labelled up so as to make it more confusing for - well, this very scenario. You might get off this floor but you won’t find the way out. Let me help you. Trust me to get you out of here.’

‘Trust you?’ Michelle couldn’t help but to laugh.

‘Let me help you. I’ll get you out of here and I’ll come with you. I’ll learn from you and keep you safe from them.’

‘You really expect me to trust you? You’ll try and stab me in the back the moment I turn it on you.’

‘I’ve already gone against what I was told to do - by finding out about your family. When you piss these people off - they don’t reprimand you with a suspension of pay. They kill you. The ice I am standing on already is cracked to hell and it’s not long before I fall through. Come on, you know you don’t have much of a choice. Sure you can make your own way and hope that you kill some of these people but you know they’ll gun you down in the end.’ He paused a moment. ‘Do you really want to die today?’

Michelle took another step forward without saying a word. The look in her eyes though suggested that the answer to Alan’s question was, she didn’t give a fuck if she lived. He took a step back.

‘I’m not standing in your way,’ he told her, ‘but you’re not going to survive this.’

The elevator doors started to shut for a fifth time. As they closed together, Michelle charged towards them - slamming against the cold metal with her fists clenched. Alan backed up against the rear of the elevator, worried that she’d find the strength to prize the doors open. He only felt relief when the lift started to move - heading towards whoever had called it.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck…’ he muttered to himself as he started to pace the confines of the lift. He had already pushed his luck by not terminating her immediately and then pushed it further by asking for time to interview her. If she was to get out now, that would be the final straw. She would be killed and so would he for allowing this to happen. He could hear Mr. Clifton’s voice in the back of his head, this wouldn’t have happened had you followed your simple orders. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!’ Only when Mr. Clifton’s voice quietened did Alan’s own inner thoughts get heard. There are only two ways out of this. Kill her himself, before anyone else is hurt, or - leave with her and learn all he can before then doing what was originally asked of him and learning about her internal state too. Get the truth from the organs and the thoughts from her brain. Come back with facts about how to prevent survival of anyone else as well as an idea for further experiments on a new serum that could be used on our own troops. Come back a hero or die a zero. ‘FUCK!’ he shouted again as he realised that - even if he was to kill her now - there’d still be a 99% chance they would terminate him for failing them anyway. A zero tolerance policy.

The elevator stopped with a jolt and the doors opened revealing Jeremy and Thomas standing there. Jeremy still with the file tucked under his arm. None of the men looked pleased to see one another. As Jeremy and Alan stepped into the lift, Alan stopped in the doorway to stop it from closing whilst he spoke to them.

‘Did the pictures come through okay?’ Jeremy asked first.

‘Yes, thank you. And my text?’

‘Received. Forwarded it to Thomas too.’

Alan shrugged as though to say he didn’t care. Despite trying to play it cool, he wondered whether either of the men could see the panic in his eyes when he realised that the text could be used against him further. If she gets out and they show the text to Mr. Clifton - it immediately looks as though he had been a part of her escape. ‘I need to get something from my car but we’re making good progress with Michelle.’

‘First name basis now?’ Jeremy asked, an eyebrow raised.

‘Gaining trust. I think you two will be interested to hear what she is saying. I think we’re onto something here.’

‘Really?’ Thomas asked - suddenly interested. The superiors liked progress and if progress was to be made, then so was money. And he was always in the market for a pay-rise.

‘Really. Look, I’m going to get something from the car - you two, if you’re not too busy, head down to the observation room and listen to what she has to say when I get back. I think you’ll both be pleasantly surprised.’

Jeremy smirked. He could see what Alan was doing, pretending that he was onto something big when - really - he knew he had fucked up by continuing down this path. Now he would want to do all he could to save face and try and redeem himself. The way Jeremy saw it, a new management position was about to open up. Play his cards right, act accordingly and - chances were - he might be up for it himself. Alan recognised the smirk.

‘You’ll see,’ Alan said.

‘We will.’

‘I’ll be right down.’

Alan stepped out of the elevator. Jeremy pressed the button for the relevant floor. He turned back to Alan with the same smirk still on his face - a look that said, I’ve got you. Alan didn’t say anything else as the lift doors closed. In an ideal world, he knew how this would play out now. He just wished he could be down there to see it happen.

Chapter Six

‘He’s a dead man,’ Jeremy said as the elevator started to move downwards. There was a tone in his voice of pure glee. The two men had never gotten on since they first started together. Both men having applied for the same role with only Alan being successful.

‘Maybe he has had a break through?’ Thomas said.

Jeremy looked at him in disbelief. ‘Did you not hear the crack in his tone? He has fucked up and he knows it. Seriously fucked up.’ He laughed. ‘I reckon there might be a vacancy coming up in our department soon. What do you think?’

‘Or three or them,’ Thomas said.

The smile faded from Jeremy’s face. That was always another possibility, even with the text message.

‘Just have to have faith, my friend.’

The elevator door opened and the two men stepped out into the empty corridor. Together, they headed towards the observation room. Neither of them cared, or noticed, that the security guard was missing. Jeremy opened the door and stepped in first, followed by Thomas.

*

Alan climbed into his Mercedes Estate and reversed it from its spot, right up to the main door of the complex. If Michelle did make it out this far, he would be there to invite her into the car. A quick way out of the compound where he’d continue trying to convince her to let him help her. And if she said no? He reached over to the glove box compartment and hit the release switch, letting the compartment fall open. Inside, resting on top of the car’s owner manual, rested a small revolver - a gun purchased on the black market pretty much as soon as Alan took the job on. Knowing there were risks, and previous employees had died from strange accidents or unexplained causes - Alan didn’t see the harm in keeping himself as safe as he could.

He released the gun’s chamber and noted it was fully loaded, just as he had thought it had been. Satisfied, he clicked the chamber shut and slid the gun between his legs. If she comes quietly, he won’t need to use it. If she didn’t then he would shoot her in the throat - a shot that would kill without causing damage to the needed organs inside of her body. Feeling nervous at the prospect of all that was to happen, he sucked in a deep breath and held it there in an effort to slow his racing heart. Slowly he let the breath out. One burning question predominantly in the forefront of his mind now: Will she make it out and - if she does - will it be before the sun is up?

‘Come on…’ he muttered. His eyes were fixed to the rear-view mirror which was pointed directly towards the building’s only exit point. If she was to make it out, this was the only place she’d be able to as all windows were secured with iron bars.

*

Jeremy was standing in the centre of the room with a shocked look on his face. The file, once in his hand, now scattered on the floor where he’d dropped it with pages everywhere. Thomas was standing a few feet away, facing the door he had just closed. Between him and the door, Michelle.

‘It feels funny,’ Thomas said, his speech slow and slurred as he slowly turned to face Jeremy. Jeremy took a step back when he noticed the silver pen protruding from Thomas’ left eye. ‘Is it bad?’ Thomas asked.

Before Jeremy could answer, Michelle leaned around Thomas and - with the palm of the same hand that had killed the guard - she shoved the pen deeper in, through the eye-ball and into the brain. Thomas jerked his head back with the force of the blow and fell to the floor where he sat - up right - for a while, his one good eye still fixed on his petrified work colleague who’d now spotted the scissors in Michelle’s other hand. Michelle leaned down to Thomas and ran the scissors across his throat - opening it up. A spray of blood spurted out over the floor and scattered pages of the file as Jeremy jumped back to avoid being splashed. Michelle stood up straight and raised the bloodied scissors towards Jeremy.

‘Do you want to die?’ she asked.

Jeremy looked at Thomas’ twitching body as his colleague struggled with his last few breaths on this planet. He looked back up to Michelle who raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer that she could work with. Jeremy promptly shook his head.

‘Your friend told me that it’s not easy getting out of here. You’re going to tell me how to get out,’ Michelle said - scissors still pointed towards Jeremy.

‘My friend?’ Jeremy snorted through his nose as he realised who she’d meant. Alan. ‘Alan knew you had escaped…’ It made sense. He had seen her, he had run and got into the elevator and out of the building. Jeremy shook his head and muttered, ‘He knew you were down here waiting for us…’ Jeremy laughed. The clean-up crew who’d come in to clean whatever mess Michelle made would find the mobile phone on Thomas - and Jeremy if she killed him. They’d see the message and, if Alan survived, they would still think he was something to do with all of this. He might have escaped out of the building before she’d got to him but - he wouldn’t escape the fall out from this. ‘He set me up,’ Jeremy muttered to himself.

‘Did you hear me?’ Michelle snapped. ‘I want you to show me how to get out of here.’ She continued, ‘It’s the only way you’re going to survive this encounter. You should really think about that. No one else has had such an offer from me.’ She asked for the final time, ‘Do you want to die today?’

‘You’re going to kill me anyway.’

Michelle shook her head. ‘I’m many things but I am not a liar.’

‘Of course I don’t want to die.’

‘Then how do I get out?’

Jeremy’s mind raced through the various options. One option: Tell her the way out and hope she doesn’t kill him and the superiors go easy on him for making it so easy for her. Second option: Don’t tell her and die right here in this room but give the company further chance to stop her getting out. Third option: Try and get the scissors from her and kill her himself. The third option was the only one that was likely to get him labeled a hero and let off from any possible reprimanding for this whole situation. But then - there was a fourth option too. Send her to the wrong floor. Send her to the floor of secrets. So many guards down there, armed to the teeth, that she wouldn’t stand a chance of getting out. The only problem with that - they’d get the credit, even though it was him that had sent her there. They don’t care about the smaller details, just the one who pulled the trigger.

‘I’ll point you in the right direction but I’m not taking you out there.’

Michelle laughed. ‘I’m not asking for you to hold my hands. Just tell me, or show me, the right button on the lift. Think you can do that, sugar-pie?’ She moved slightly causing the blade of the scissors to catch the light. It was a move that didn’t go unnoticed by Jeremy. He looked from blade to face. Michelle winked. ‘What’s it to be? Ready to die?’

*

Alan was still looking into the rear-view mirror, not daring to blink. Part of him kept expecting to hear an alarm start to sound. Part of him expected to see Michelle stagger out, bloodied. Instead there was nothing but silence. Well, near-silence. The occasional bit of banter from one of the nearby shacks, followed by laughter. People working the night shift whilst others tried to sleep ahead of their own shift.

‘Come on, come on…’

He wanted to know what was going on inside the compound but also knew he couldn’t go and check. Did she get into the elevator and just try and guess her way out of the building, pressing random buttons and hoping to find the right floor for the exit? Did she wait down there and find Jeremy and Thomas? If so - how did that go? What’s happening in there?

In an effort to stop himself reaching for the door handle, Alan gripped the steering wheel harder with both hands until his knuckles went white.

‘Come on…’

A knock on the window startled him, causing him to visibly jump. He turned to see who was standing on the other side of the closed window: A soldier on his patrols.

‘Everything okay in there?’ the man asked.

Alan nodded and called through the window, ‘Waiting on a call back from the wife.’

Alan pulled his phone from his pocket and held it up as though it proved his lie to be truthful. The soldier didn’t say anything, he simply turned and continued on his way. Alan couldn’t help but notice the man’s semi-automatic rifle. Tonight wasn’t going to end well. He turned back to looking in the rear-view mirror.

‘Come on… What are you doing in there?’

Chapter Seven

Of course Michelle wasn’t going to let him live. She stepped back, a smile on her face, as Jeremy staggered across the room with his hand raised to his throat in a futile effort to stop the stream of blood. He had given Michelle the answer she was looking for, the way out. Or rather, he had pretended to at least. There was no trust there on her part and - in truth - she was surprised he had trusted her enough to at least pretend to give a correct answer.

Jeremy slammed against the wall before turning his back on it, using the wall as a leaning post as his legs started to give out on him. Slowly - eyes wide with fear and blood flow slowing - he started to slide down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. He lowered his head as - finally - the life slipped from him. Michelle didn’t say anything, she just wiped the dirty scissors on her hospital gown and turned for the corridor - and elevator - beyond the door. Scissors still gripped firmly in her hand on the off-chance anyone else decided to come to her floor.

As she walked down the corridor, back towards the lift where she’d originally bumped into Alan, she couldn’t help but playback moments of her life. Happier times before all of this, before the cruise and the run-in with whatever fucked-up company this was. A wish to turn the clock back. A wish to refuse the invitation to join the other passengers on this once in a lifetime trip. She mentally berated herself for wasting her time and taking her mind from the escape at hand. What was the point in wishing for things gone, impossible to get back. All she would do was get herself upset. Upset? Don’t let them see emotion. Let them believe you’re different. It’s the only way out if they catch up with you again.

At the elevator, Michelle leaned towards the call button and pressed it with her index finger. Beyond the doors she could hear the mechanics kick in as the elevator started its journey to her floor. She wasn’t able to tell if it was coming from a floor beneath or above. Truth be told, it didn’t matter. Waiting, she gripped the scissors tighter in her hand just in case she was about to be greeted by people in the lift. Jesus. If they are in there, talk about wrong place and wrong time. She smiled to herself at the tasty prospect of killing more of these suited and booted fucks. Please let someone be in the lift.

When the doors opened and the lift was revealed as empty, Michelle couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Regardless, she stepped in and turned her attention to the console of numberless buttons. There were ten rows in total with two numbers on each. Michelle counted down to the third row with her index finger. The same finger moved to the right button. She hesitated a moment.

‘It’s the third row down…’ Jeremy had answered that part fast enough for it to be true but then paused. It was only a slight hesitation but still a hesitation. Enough for Michelle to hesitate herself now. ‘… Right. The button on the right.’

‘You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?’ she had asked him.

‘Of course not.’ He had added, ‘I want to live.’

It was then she told him, ‘Too bad,’ before slashing his throat open.

Michelle moved her finger to the left. She smiled and pressed this button instead. As the elevator doors closed, she raised the scissors up. When the doors open, if there is anyone standing there - anyone at all - they’re getting the pointy end in their neck. No exceptions.

*

‘To hell with it,’ Alan said as he pocketed the revolver in his jacket pocket. He reached to the car door and opened it before climbing from the vehicle. Heart racing - beating hard enough to be uncomfortable - he approached the compound only to stop dead in his tracks when the door opened and Mr. Clifton stepped out - a suitcase in his hands.

‘Is it done yet?’ Mr. Clifton asked with barely a glance in Alan’s direction.

‘On the way to take care of it now,’ Alan lied.

Mr. Clifton didn’t stop walking. Instead, he spoke over his shoulder, ‘Good. Then I can expect the report on my desk first thing, yes?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Excellent.’

Alan stepped into the building. He turned back to the door and watched Mr. Clifton. Mr. Clifton walked to his car. Before he got there, he pulled his key fob from his pocket and pressed the top button to unlock his ride. Locks unlocked, he opened the driver’s door and climbed in before closing the door. Still watching, Alan’s heart calmed as the car’s engine fired to life with the familiar roar of a V8 engine. A rev of said engine and the reverse light flicked on before the car slowly started rolling backwards. The car stopped, the reverse light went out and - then - the car pulled away, up towards the security barrier leading the way from the compound. Alan slowly exhaled the breath he had subconsciously been holding.

The elevator opened behind him. The lift doors opened. Alan turned in time to see Michelle running towards him with the scissors raised and a look of hate on her face. Panicked, he fumbled for his revolver before pointing it at her. She stopped running and waited for the bullet.

‘Two men went downstairs. Their names were Jeremy and Thomas…’

Michelle didn’t need Alan to finish. She answered him, ‘They’re dead.’

There was a slight pause.

‘Good.’

Michelle looked confused. Alan lowered his gun. Michelle took a couple of steps forward, still with the same look in her eyes. Alan raised his gun again and - for a second time - she stopped.

‘You had a question. I get one,’ she said.

‘Okay.’

‘If I were to have pressed the button on the other side of the one that brought me here… Where would it have taken me?’ she asked.

‘Sleeping quarters.’

‘Sleeping quarters?’

‘Some of the guards stay here. Others live close-by so can travel. Why?’

Michelle didn’t answer but instead laughed. She took another step forward, ignoring the gun.

‘You’re not going to shoot me,’ she said.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because you want to help me get out of here. That’s what you told me.’

‘You didn’t want my help. You said you would kill anyone who got in your way.’

‘And so far I have done pretty well for myself but… You have a gun, you could have just shot me already. You didn’t so… Maybe there is some truth in you wanting to help?’

‘I told you, they wanted to just cut you open to find out what is going on inside your body. I think that is a waste. We should…’

‘Learn from me, you said.’

‘That’s right.’

Michelle laughed.

‘What’s funny?’ Alan asked.

‘You want to stop me from being cut open so you can learn from me.’

‘Yes.’

‘Never mind the fact I am an innocent person in all of this. I’m only here because your shitty government wanted to run some tests. They ran their tests, got the results they wanted and now I can be killed too.’

‘I don’t want you dead.’

‘But you didn’t say you wanted to save me because I am an innocent person and that you think it is morally wrong to kill me. You said you wanted to save me so that you could learn from me. You want to learn what you can to ensure other experiments…’ She stopped talking. Alan didn’t have a come back. ‘Do you see the problem here?’

‘I don’t want to kill you.’

‘And yet, to live, you might have to.’

‘There is due a change-over of shifts. People are going to be stirring soon. You can let me help you get out of here or we can stand here, like this, until the staff change. When they do, they’ll come from both the doors and the elevators. They will have guns.’

‘And how are you going to get me out of here? My personal hero.’

‘I reversed my car up to the door. It’s an estate. You can hide in the back and I’ll just drive us out.’

‘That simple?’

‘That simple.’

‘They won’t check?’

‘They never do.’

‘How do you know I won’t kill you as soon as we’re in the clear?’

‘Because I have a gun.’

‘Can you shoot it?’

‘To save myself.’ Alan continued, ‘And, to show me you’re onboard with me helping you out, you’re going to toss the scissors to one side.’

‘I am?’

‘Yes.’

‘But how else would I protect myself?’

‘You said it yourself - if I wanted you dead, I could have shot you already.’

‘Tell me,’ Michelle asked after a slight pause, ‘what happened to the survivors you told me about? Did they get to go home.’

Silence.

‘They’re dead now?’

Alan nodded slowly.

‘But not by you?’

‘Not my department.’

‘Had it been - would you have done it?’

‘I’m all for getting you out of here. For whatever reason - to learn from you or whatever… Doesn’t that answer your question?’

Silence.

Michelle looked at the door over Alan’s shoulder. Then she looked back to the elevator behind her, at the far end of the corridor. Without a word she tossed the scissors down onto the floor. Slowly, still unsure, Alan lowered the gun. When Michelle didn’t rush him, he put it back in his jacket pocket. For a moment, the two of them just stood there - neither one knowing exactly what to say to the other. Michelle was first to speak.

‘So what now?’

Chapter Eight

Alan climbed into the driver’s seat of his car when the first of several gunshots rang through the air.

‘What’s that?’ Michelle called from the rear of the vehicle where she had hidden beneath a tatty picnic blanket.

‘Stay down!’

The next batch of gunshots pierced the air. They weren’t close, as they would have been had they been aimed at Alan’s Mercedes.

‘Wait here…’ Alan said.

Revolver now in hand, he climbed from his car as another round of shots were fired off into the air. A second later and a shrill, high-pitched alarm sang out from the main building. Alan didn’t know where to stand, or look. Something was obviously going down and - whatever it was, guards were coming. The more guards on the ground, the tighter the security was going to be to get out. Of all the times for something to be going down…

*

His name was John Burley. Another name from another file from another experiment. Just as Michelle was making her escape, so was John although with a little more attention than Michelle had gained in her progress. He hadn’t come from the building though, he had come from over the wall - for the second time. The first trip over being the one that taught him his reality - what was happening beyond the concrete barrier, the fiction planted in his brain that turned him into a Sick B*stard. The second trip, just as alone as he had been the first time he’d come over, was the one that would see him a free man or dead. Either way offered a freedom that would be welcome compared to how he had been living beyond the wall: Starving and eating whatever (or whoever) stumbled across him and his “family”.

Another gunshot sang through the air. The bullet smashed through the rear window of the car he’d managed to steal from outside one of the shacks. A shot that was too close for comfort and a reminder that he shouldn’t hang around - not having come this far.

With the car in gear, he put his foot down and accelerated towards the barrier and - with luck on his side - freedom. Fuck this place… His car collided with a guard who stepped in front of it with his gun raised… Fuck these people. John couldn’t help but laugh as the guard bounced off the bonnet.

More gunshots as the car sped past the main building and the parked Mercedes Estate containing the other survivor. Alan watched from close by the Mercedes. He flinched as more guards burst through the door of the main building with their weapons raised - no one really knowing what was happening and only that the speeding car needed to be stopped.

Alan jumped back into the driver’s seat of his car.

‘What’s happening out there?’ Michelle said - this time in a more hushed voice as it was now obvious to her that the commotion wasn’t because of her.

‘Someone else has seen the light,’ I guess.

Two cars gave chase to the one John was driving - straight out of the compound, through the barrier he had already broken moments earlier.

‘But this is good for us,’ Alan said. ‘This works in our favour.’

Alan put his own key in the ignition and started the engine up. Before Michelle had a chance to argue, he sped from the compound too - pretending to give chase.

‘Okay, we’re out of the compound,’ he said with a sigh of relief. ‘At the end of the road, there’s a fork, we’ll go in whatever direction these guys aren’t.’

‘You sound like you have done this before,’ came the voice from the back.

‘I’ve seen a lot of films.’

‘Tell me about the company.’

‘Company? Not a company - the government. Same team always win the elections because they’re rigged. Rich people playing God in their own country. They conduct experiments on normal people to see if they can find ways of making things run smoother.’ He laughed. ‘They get away with it because they have money and there is no one else to stop them but - whatever evil there is in the country, you can bet they are behind it.’ He paused a moment. ‘You hear about Harold Shipman? A mad doctor who was killing his patients. Supposedly the worst serial killer this country has ever seen.’

‘I’ve heard of him.’

‘Wasn’t sure. Your accent… Sounds like you’re American.’

Michelle was indeed from America.

‘We do get the news over there, you know.’

‘Wasn’t sure if he would have been big enough to make it over there.’

‘He was.’

‘Well - what would you say if I told you there was a file on Shipman in that compound we’ve just come from. The first part of an experiment. Can doctors get away with killing their patients? If he could have gotten away with it then they would have expanded. Got more doctors to kill members of the older generation. A way of culling the ever-increasing population.’ He finished, ‘Needless to say it didn’t go the way they had planned.’

‘And you work for them.’

They reached the fork. The car chase went left. They went right. Alan checked the rear-view mirror. They were alone.

‘We’re in the clear.’

There was movement from behind as Michelle climbed through to the front where she joined Alan. She noted the gun in his lap. Part of her wondered whether she could reach it before he did. She decided not to attempt it. Not yet anyway. Maybe later.

‘Why do you work for them if they’re that bad? Surely you’re part of the problem?’

‘You think that was the job I applied for? That wasn’t what any of us thought we were applying for but once you apply - if you were successful - there was no way out. No way to quit. You quit, you get a bullet. Properly fired. You probably don’t believe me but that’s the truth… You want out, they kill…’

‘I believe you. Of everything you’ve said - I believe you. That’s why I had to get out of there and I knew the truth wouldn’t work…’

Alan frowned. ‘What?’

‘I had to lie. They had to think I was different otherwise I would be dead like the other survivors, just as you confirmed. They survived because they didn’t drink the water and instead of going free - they’re still killed. I would have been in that room where they were murdered. I’d just be another of the bigger statistics. I thought this was the only way.’

Alan slowed the car to a stop.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You don’t see?’ She laughed. ‘And you’re supposed to be intelligent to get these jobs?’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t drink the water.’ She reiterated, ‘On the ship - I hid away… I didn’t drink the water. Did I kill people? Yes but only because I had to to survive. That was nothing to do with the water though.’

Alan didn’t say anything. He just sat there, a look of horror on his face.

‘So where are you going to take me? You need to help me get out of this country and back home. You owe me that much. A way to right one of your wrongs.’

‘You didn’t drink the water?’

‘I saw what it was doing to people.’

‘You didn’t drink the fucking water…’

Alan’s plan had been simple: Get her out of the compound, learn all he could and then kill her and learn more from the organs. Go back to the compound a hero with new ideas for the government, new results and old results confirmed and improved upon. Now he had nothing. He was nothing. A black mark. He could go back but given how Michelle had got out and that the security guard was dead, as were Jeremy and Thomas… He would be killed for letting it get to this stage. There was no way back for him, certainly as a hero. Unless he could somehow pin it all on whoever had escaped from over the wall. Was that even possible? Could he pin it on them? They broke in - maybe - found the right floor with Michelle on, saw her as another test subject, freed her and then the two of them disappeared together?

Alan grabbed the gun and - without thinking further - pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through Michelle’s stomach. A look of shock on her face as the pain gradually set in. A second bullet through her eyes and her brains splattered the car window.

The rest of the storyline he was making up in his head, before pulling the trigger, involved the other escapee murdering Michelle and dumping her body. One escapee gone and one still out there. Alan sighed. It didn’t help explain how he had survived though. With bodies piled up and Alan seen moments before The Great Escape… how had he survived it all without so much as a mark on him? And then of course - how many people saw the other escapee leaving in the car by themselves? Or what if they have already run the car off the road? If they have, they’ll know now that the person is alone and that Michelle was never part of their escape plan. And what of that? A huge coincidence that they found the right floor where she was anyway, let alone got back out with her. Alan sighed again. Whatever his story was, they were going to come for him. They were going to come and they were going to kill him. And, knowing the people involved, they weren’t going to make it quick. These people enjoyed the suffering of others.

Alan looked down at the gun. The way he saw it now, he had two options. The first option was that he put the barrel in his mouth and - a quick prayer to God - pulled the trigger. The second option being, instead of hiding from the government - he went for them.

Kill or be killed.

They are Goliath. He is David.

To be continued…

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