Children of the Cull (9 page)

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Authors: Cavan Scott

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BOOK: Children of the Cull
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“I’m sorry—” I began, but the technician interrupted me.

“No, I am,” he said, rubbing his chin with a shaking hand. “I shouldn’t have said that. Look, I may not be entirely... comfortable with what we’re doing here, but he didn’t deserve that. I like the kids, and what happened to Sam...”—he glanced up at the empty monitor again—“it was horrible. I’m just... I just trying to figure out what happened, that’s all.”

Or trying to cover your back
.

The thought came from nowhere. At first I thought Olive had said it, but my assistant remained tight-lipped, glowering at the technician’s back.

“Okay,” I said, trying to calm the situation. “Okay. Can you compile a report?”

Lam looked puzzled. “A report?”

“Everything that’s happened, step by step. It might help... make sense of this.”

While keeping you nice and busy, fat boy.

I frowned. What was wrong with me? Was it time for more meds already? My mouth was dry, my throat raw. I licked my lips. It was just the pressure of the day, everything that had happened. I knew that Olive had shifted her gaze to me now, assessing my condition, my risk. I concentrated on Lam.

Hold it together, girl
, my mother said in my ear.
You can do this. I know you can.

An electronic buzz made all of us jump, the walkie-talkie at my hip crackling.


Dr Tomas?

I blew out in shock, snatching the handset from its belt-clip.

“Yes, chief?”


Where are you?

“In the hub.”


The hub?

“I’ll explain later. Is everything all right.”


Stay there
,” Moore ordered. “
I’m on my way
.”

I exchanged a worried look with Olive. “To the hub.”


I need to check the cameras.

“Why?”


I’m not sure. I think I saw something. Outside.

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

KILL

 

 

T
HE SILENCE IN
the tunnel was stifling as we waited for Fenton to descend. He got to the bottom rung and jumped the remaining metre to the floor, his boots splashing in the shallow puddles at the bottom of the shaft.

I shone my torch in the direction of the base, picking out crumbling concrete walls.

“Is this place safe?” asked Beck.

“It was built to last,” I said, even as the light found cracks in the ceiling, roots hanging down.

The passage was about two metres from side to side, just about wide enough to drive a jeep down without removing too much of the paintwork. The floor seemed smooth enough, save for a scattering of debris from the damaged roof, which thankfully didn’t look too substantial.

“Aren’t there any lights?” Fenton moaned.

“Not this far out. There’s security doors that way,” I said, waving ahead. “Things get more civilised when we’re past them.”

Brennan shone her own light into the gloom. “And how easy will that be?”

“Well, they open from the other side...”

“Of course they do,” groaned Fenton.

“Then it’s a good job you’re here to help Curtis with the battering ram, isn’t it?” pointed out Brennan.

Fenton sneered and spat on the floor, while behind him, Curtis looked like he’d bitten into a shit sandwich.

Evidently deciding that the conversation was at an end, Brennan took the lead, marching into the darkness. “Let’s go.”

I fell in beside her, the lights of the other’s torches bobbing behind us.

“Are there cameras?” she asked.

“I doubt it, not this side of the security doors.”

“‘Doubt it’? I thought you knew this place?”

“I performed a security review nearly two decades ago. A lot’s happened between now and then.”

“So, this is what you do now? Travel the country, offering your services?”

“I get around.”

“I bet you do. But why?”

“I told you.”

“Because you need drugs.”

“That’s right.”

“To numb what exactly?”

This was getting uncomfortable. It was time to deflect the spotlight.

“What about you? Why do all this?”

“All what?”

“Playing general.”

“I’m not playing.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But how—”

“How did I end up with this lot?”

“She got lucky,” Fenton piped up, behind us.

“Or I was very bad in a previous life,” Brennan shot back.

Fenton laughed with something that almost resembled camaraderie.

“There’s nothing much to tell. I was a kid when the world went to crap. Joined a gang to survive life on the streets, and soon learnt to use my fists to survive.”

“Until you’d beaten everyone else into submission?”

“For a man who doesn’t like talking about himself, you sure ask a lot of questions.”

That shut me up. I laughed it off. I liked this woman. She was quick and smart, and told it like it was. It made what I was trying to do easier.

Get your contact on side, soldier. Feign interest, ask questions. Get them talking about themselves. Never fails.

Except when it does.

We marched on, our boots scraping on the concrete, until the doors appeared in the torchlight.

I felt my mouth go dry.

I must have slowed up, Brennan immediately picking up on my subconscious hesitation.

“What’s wrong?”

“They’ve redecorated,” I replied, raising my hand to stop the group.

“What do you mean?” Beck asked, coming to a halt.

“There used to be double doors here.”

We all looked ahead. A solid metal plate barred our way.

“They upgraded their security,” Brennan said.

Fenton wasn’t so subtle. “I knew it! I fucking
knew
it!”

“Knew what?” Beck snapped.

“This is what happens when you trust jokers like him.”

I didn’t respond to the insult. I didn’t have to.

“Stow it, Fenton,” Brennan ordered. “You’re not helping.”

“And he is? Standing there gawping at the fucking door? What are we going to do? Use this?” He slapped the battering ram on Curtis’s back, drawing a glare from the giant.

“It would have taken down the old doors, no problem,” I admitted. “This... well, I guess we’ll have to improvise.”

Fenton wasn’t giving up the argument. “Improvise? What are you going to do, knock on the door and hope one of the little piggies let you in?”

“Enough,” Brennan bellowed, her voice echoing down the corridor.

“Quiet,” I hissed, raising a hand. “We need to keep our voices down.”

Fenton scoffed. “Worried they’re going to hear us?”

“Not yet,” I replied, turning and marching towards the bloody door. “But they will in a minute.”

Brennan took after me, rushing to catch up. “What are you thinking?”

I reached the door and rapped lightly on the metal.

Little pig, little pig, let me come in.

It was solid, too solid. Resting my hand on the cool metal, I looked up, running a beam of light around the edges.

“It must slide down,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “There isn’t room for it to swing open, not if they want to drive vehicles through, so it has to come down from the ceiling, on hydraulics.”

“So, what? We blast our way through?”

“And bring the roof down on our heads?” Fenton spluttered.

I crouched down and slapped my palm on the concrete floor. “It wouldn’t work anyway. These things are built to withstand most explosions...”

“But...”

I swung the pack from my shoulder, unzipping the main compartment. “What time is it?”

Beck shone her light over her wristwatch. “Six forty-nine.”

“We haven’t got long.” I started unpacking what was left of my plastic explosives.

“I thought you said explosives wouldn’t work?” Fenton pointed out. I briefly fought the urge to stuff the C-4 down his stupid whining throat.

“Not against the door,” I replied. “Now shut the fuck up and let me get to work.”

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CURE

 

 

M
OORE GROWLED AT
Lam as he stalked into the Ops rooms. “What are you doing here?”

I raised a hand. “He was trying to access the computers. The system’s in lockdown.”

“It’s what?”

“We’re shut out,” Lam told him. “None of the passwords work.”

“What about the cameras?” the chief said, barging the technician out of the way to get to the security controls.

“They’re on a different system. Everything else seems up and running.”

“But for how long?” Moore asked, pulling Lam’s chair towards him and sitting down. He jabbed at the CCTV control console, cycling through the feeds, the grainy images switching from one camera to another on the screens.

“What are you doing?”

Moore peered up at the central screen. “I’ve established patrols around the perimeter.”

“Patrols? Chief, I said two guards, max—everyone else is supposed to be confined to quarters.” Couldn’t anyone follow a simple order today?

The chief glared at me. “And you’d rather we were left unprotected?”

How many times would I have this argument today? “Until we find out—”

“The medical staff are contained, as are technical support”—the security chief scowled at Lam—“at least, most of them are. I’ve only got a few men out, a handful; the ones I can trust.”

“Can we trust
anyone?
” Olive asked by the door. I raised a single finger to silence her. Not a fight worth having.

“So, what are we looking at?” I asked.

Moore manipulated a joystick, the image on the screen zooming in to focus on a section of fencing illuminated by floodlight.

“The east perimeter. Team Three called it in.”

“Called in what exactly?”

“Movement, beyond the fences. In the bushes.”

The picture continued to zoom in. There was nothing there, save for blurry, pixelated images of overgrown shrubs.

“Isn’t that where we were attacked this morning?” Lam asked.

Moore nodded, sitting back in the seat. “Yes. I wouldn’t have expected them to come back for more, not so soon.”

“Could it have been an animal?” I asked. “A dog, or something?”

“My men know the difference between a dog and a human being.”

Still the screen showed nothing.

“Well, if there was anyone there, they’ve gone now,” Olive added unhelpfully.

Moore snatched the walkie-talkie from his belt and opened a channel. “Control to Team Three. Come in.”


Team Three responding, chief.

“I’m in Ops. There’s nothing on the camera.” He flicked along a line of buttons, scrolling through corresponding feeds. “On any of them.”

On screen, we saw three guards cautiously approaching the wire mesh, torches mounted on their rifles. Circles of lights swept across the no-man’s land between the two fences.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked.

“They know what they’re doing,” Moore insisted, before bringing the walkie-talkie back to his mouth again. “Well?”


There’s nothing, sir,
” came the distorted reply, the lead guard raising his own handset on screen. “
It might have been kids, mucking about?

“Remind me of the last time we saw kids?” Moore’s eyes flicked up to the top row of screen. “Outside the perimeter, I mean.”


There was definitely something there, chief, but it’s gone now.

The three men stood their ground, swinging their gun-lights along the perimeter.

My stomach was in knots. This was like those old movies we used to watch before horror became an everyday occurrence, the hero creeping into an empty house, the soundtrack dropping away to nothing; no music, no dialogue, just the poor hapless bastard inching forward. You were yelling at the screen, knowing what was coming.
Get the hell out of there! What are you doing? Haven’t you seen these films before?
And then the monster would strike.

My nails stabbed into the palms of my hands.

Moore had seen enough. “Okay, pull back. There’s nothing there. Continue your patrol.”

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