Armageddon Heights (a thriller) (32 page)

‘You sure this is the way?’ Samuel Wade called to her back. He looked over his shoulder down the tunnel. He heard the sound of boots rattling on the stone in the darkness, some distance away but closing in on them.

‘Pretty sure, yes,’ Keegan said.

‘Only pretty sure?’ he said breathlessly. His body was now feeling the impact of the beatings he’d taken, his back and shoulders pulsing with sharp bouts of pain, his head throbbing. ‘They’re closing in on us.’

She brought them to a halt before a rust-eaten door with a metal wheel in its centre. A small body of Cain’s men were running down the tunnel toward them, levelling their rifles. Wade let loose a burst of fire with the automatic, and three men toppled under the hail of bullets, their attack collapsing, the remainder falling back.

Keegan turned the wheel, pushing the door open. ‘This way,’ she urged.

‘We’re just going deeper into this shit-hole, Keegan,’ he said.

‘Do you want your friends out or what?’ Her expression was stony. ‘I know where I’m going. Trust me.’

Wade launched himself through the opening, the rattle of automatic rifle fire and the tunnel wall erupting into myriad fountains of dirt telling him in no uncertain terms that Lindegaard’s Sentinels were pretty close. Too close. He slammed the door shut. Keegan handed him a long piece of metal, with which he jammed the wheel on the other side.

They were in what appeared to be a gigantic storeroom of sorts, where every piece of reclaimed metal, no matter how small, twisted or rusted, had been lined up on racking for future use. They quickly ran through the room, meeting no resistance, to a door at the far side.

‘It’s like when an ants’ nest is attacked,’ explained Keegan. ‘The soldiers congregate to fight off the attacker. That’s what’s happening with Cain’s men. It’s how the game’s designed. Lindegaard’s Sentinels will be having a hard time of it out there. It means we shouldn’t encounter too much resistance.’

‘How far to where they’re being held prisoner?’

Keegan opened the door, peered out into the dimly-lit corridor beyond. It was empty. ‘This way, no more than a few hundred yards.’

The smell hit them as soon as they stepped into the corridor.

‘Christ, what is that?’ Wade asked, putting a hand to his nose.

‘Ignore it,’ she said quickly. ‘This way.’

‘It’s coming from in here,’ he said, pausing by a padlocked wooden door.’

‘I said ignore it.’

Then he heard moans, soft and almost whisper-like, coming from behind the door. ‘There are people in there. They sound like they’re in trouble.’

‘We haven’t time for this,’ she said. ‘Anyway, they’re not people, remember? Not really.’

‘They’re crying out for water,’ he said. ‘Shit, Keegan, they may not be real but they sure as hell sound real enough. I’m going inside.’

Before she could stop him Wade had fired at the padlock and shot it off. He grabbed the hefty handle and yanked open the door.

‘Pass me that lamp,’ he said, pointing to one that hung on the wall opposite.

The groans grew louder as the door swung open and came to rest against something on the floor. The smell was overwhelming. Urine, faeces, rotting flesh and death.

‘Oh my God,’ he said, holding his breath and lifting the lamp higher so he could see inside the pitch-dark room.

He was horrified to make out a writhing sea of naked human bodies, blackened by filth, impossible to determine whether they were male or female, their bodies terribly emaciated. As one they crawled or slithered – for none of them appeared to have the strength to walk – across the floor to the far end, desperately trying to get away from the light. The floor was a seething, writhing mess of crushed humanity. As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he saw that a lot of the people had limbs missing, and from the roughly bandaged wounds weeping black, treacle-like blood, he made out the familiar stench of gangrene and decomposing flesh.

It hit him what this place really was and he threw up on the floor.

‘It’s a larder,’ said Keegan, verbalising the words he could not say. ‘Cain’s meat supply.’

Once the people realised Wade hadn’t come to take one of them, they began to flow back towards them, like a rolling, disgusting foetid sea. Wade backed to the door.

‘I did tell you,’ Keegan said. ‘I warned you.’

‘This entire place is the result of some very sick minds!’ he said, bile scorching his throat.

‘The Heights reflects what humanity really is,’ she said. ‘It’s not as exaggerated as you might like to think. But imagine being human and having to live in this place. That’s what we’ve been fighting for. To save the Sentients who have no choice but to exist here. Think of the hell they have to go through. What
you’d
have to endure…’

He staggered out into the corridor. ‘Let’s get away,’ he said. ‘I’ve had my fill.’ He turned to her. ‘Leave the door open for them…’

The look of despair clouding his face was heart-wrenching. ‘We can still do something, though, Wade. We can save your friends.’

‘The odds are against us,’ he said, his resolve beginning to crumble under the acid of his emotions, his body slumping.

‘We’re not far away from the cells,’ she said. ‘Don’t give up on me now.’

Strangely, amid all the horror, he found himself thinking how attractive Keegan was beneath the grime on her face. How drawn to her he was. Was there something of his wife he saw in her features? Was it something to do with archetypes? He shook away the thoughts, clearing the decks for action.

‘I haven’t given up,’ he said firmly. ‘Where do we go from here?’

She led the way down a tunnel that narrowed so that it became wide enough for only one person, the walls closing in on them claustrophobically, experiencing the feeling that tons of stone above their heads was bearing down on them. They turned a bend in the tunnel and were met with rifle fire, two shots in rapid succession. Keegan cried out.

‘Shit, I’ve been hit,’ she said, dropping the AT4 and pressing herself against the wall. Blood pumped bright and hot from her right thigh. ‘It’s nothing,’ she added, seeing Wade’s concern. ‘A scratch. Could have been far worse.’ She nodded down the tunnel. ‘One guard, I think, pretty pissed off.’

Wade closed his eyes momentarily, the image of his wife floating in the black space of his thoughts. It melded at once into Keegan’s face. He stared at her and she caught his intense scrutiny.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ he said. He dashed out into the tunnel, hearing the sound of the guard’s rifle being fired, aware of the bullet smacking into the wall somewhere near his right ear. But before the guard had time to reload, Wade pulled the trigger on the automatic and the guard dropped under a withering hail of bullets. Wade’s gun clicked on empty. Smoke curled into the still air.

‘Now that’s pissed off,’ he said, breathing hard, the guard moaning softly.

‘You’ll get yourself killed doing that sort of thing!’ Keegan complained.

He offered a shrug.

Keegan shouldered her rifle and picked up the fallen anti-tank gun.

‘We’ll be as helpless as rats in a trap if anyone manages to pin us down here,’ he observed, racing up to the door. Again it was a huge oblong piece of rust-smeared metal. Bending down to the badly wounded guard he turned him over and pulled a ring of keys from his belt. ‘I’m hoping one of these fits this lock,’ he said, inserting them one by one into the keyhole in the door. Finally one turned with a gratifying click. He shoved the door wide open.

The room was empty.

‘Jesus, Keegan!’ he said. ‘You said it was this one!’

‘I felt sure it had to be…’ She wiped a hand over her sweat-shiny brow as she thought hard. With a grunt she bent down to the guard, grabbed him by a blood-soaked leather strap wrapped over his shoulder and yanked him hard up to a semi-upright sitting position. The man yelped in agony. ‘Where are they? Where did Cain put the prisoners?’ She punched him, not holding back, in the face. Wade was surprised at the sudden brutality. But the man remained tight-lipped. She put the barrel of her rifle against his head. ‘Tell me, damn you!’ Then she stood upright, letting the man fall back to the ground with a dull thud. He moaned, spitting blood. ‘He was going to use us as bargaining tools,’ she said. ‘So maybe he decided to do the same for the others. He could have moved them up top.’

‘And what if he hasn’t?’

‘Then I’ve no idea where they are. Just pray I’m right.’

‘So where now?’ he asked, changing the empty magazine clip on his automatic for a full one. ‘Where would he have put them?’

‘If Cain needed to bargain with the Sentinels then he’d have to have his prisoners close by, ready to display. The Sentinels would insist on seeing all the prisoners before they’d bargain.’

‘But what if they never intended bargaining? They had the firepower to break into Cain’s stronghold, you saw that. The prisoners would have been moved again at the first sign of trouble.’

Keegan gave a groan. ‘Damn, I think I know where they might be…’

‘Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get moving,’ he demanded.

‘It’s back where we came from.’

‘You’re kidding?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s where Cain was obviously taking us when the Sentinels attacked. He’d planned on putting us all together. They must be locked in a room somewhere near the exit that the Sentinels stormed.’ She ransacked her memory of the layout of Cain’s makeshift city but struggled to recall any room near the exit.  Then her face darkened. ‘If the Sentinels might have tracked their signal to wherever it is they’re being held. They will have orders to destroy – to kill – them, as a precaution against them having become sentient. If they’ve found them they’re already dead, Wade.’

‘But maybe they haven’t…’ He looked down the tunnel. ‘We have to get out of here; we could be found by either Cain’s men or the Sentinels, and I don’t reckon much for our chances if we’re caught here. Which way do we go – please tell me it’s not back the way we came…’

Keegan bent to her haunches, began to draw in the dust on the floor with her finger.

‘What the hell are you doing now?’ he asked.

‘Shut up. I’m trying to concentrate. I’m pulling together a map of this place. It’s been a long time since I…’ She trailed into silence.

‘Since you what?’

She didn’t look up at him as her finger quickly drew squares and lines, the whole starting to look like a complex maze. ‘Since I designed the place,’ she said.

He digested the comment. ‘Since you designed the place?’ He angled his head. ‘Are you telling me…? ‘

She nodded. ‘I helped design this entire sector, in the early days. Cain’s Territory is one of the older parts of Armageddon Heights. It’s been added to since, but it’s basically the same beast with a lot more nasty frills attached.’

‘You serious?’

‘Never more so. Sorry to have to tell you, I’m the primary sick mind behind all this…’

‘So what are you? Some kind of software engineer, or whatever they call them?’

‘I was.’ Her finger scratched away furiously in the dirt. ‘Later. Let me concentrate.’

‘You’re one of the bastards responsible for this entire twisted monstrosity? For creating Cain – them?’ he said, wafting a hand at the dying guard. ‘Responsible for creating
me
?’

She stopped drawing. Her eyes met his. He didn’t quite know what he was seeing there. Pity? Guilt? Fear?

‘Yes…’ she said softly. ‘It was my software design that ultimately gave you the ability to become sentient. But it was never intended to do that…’

His mouth hung open, the words sponged from his lips by disbelief and shock before they even had time to form. He put a hand to his eyes, trying to find solace in the darkness behind his closed lids. ‘You’re my Maker?’ he managed eventually, his voice choked. ‘You’re telling me I have you to blame for giving me this – this shitty existence? You that gave me a life, a wife and kid, that never existed, only to see them murdered in an act that never happened, too?’

‘Listen, Wade…’

Wade lifted the automatic rifle, his face flushing with anger, his eyes welling up, the gun vibrating in his trembling grip. ‘Listen? To what? Your excuses?’

‘OK, I hold my hand up to it. But I had no idea – no one did – that character sentience would be an issue. It just happened. I have tried to make amends. I’m trying now…’

‘You played God. Look at me, Keegan, look at all this. Is
this
life?’

‘Tough. We have the cards we’re dealt, Wade,’ she said, her own rage rising. ‘I never chose the hand that was given me either. I’ve got serious troubles of my own!’

He sneered. ‘Sure. But at least you can get out of here and go back to your troubles – your real troubles. Me, and any other unfortunate bastard that happens to develop sentience, we’re stuck here inside your fucking nightmare.’

‘I have nothing to go back to, Wade!’ she burst emphatically. Emotions misted her eyes. ‘We’ve got what we’ve got, Wade. Sure I berated God for giving me my own private hell, but you know what? At least I’m here! I’m
alive!
And, damn it, so are you, like it or not. And I aim to keep you that way for as long as I can. So go ahead, if it pleases you, blow my head off. I’ll die –
really
die. What good is it going to do you?’