Into the Fire (33 page)

“No!” Lena wailed, “I should've remembered this wasn't the way out!”

“You been here before?”

“They brought me here after I tried escaping. Don't worry,” she said, seeing the reaction on my face, “they didn't do much. Too scared of harming the baby.”

I paused for a moment. “You know?”

“Yeah . . . Sorry,” she said, as if even amongst all that was happening, it should've been acknowledged.

And there, trapped in a torture chamber in the Infinity building, with God knows who on their way, we actually took a moment to briefly unite in celebration over what we'd created. I know that might sound a little crazy when we had far more pressing problems to deal with, but that was what we did.

“How do we get out of here?” I asked, as we reluctantly broke away from each other.

Lena just sighed and shook her head: it was hopeless, and I guess I'd known before I'd asked the question. Out of sheer frustration I picked up Nora Jagger's artificial arm and swung it at the bars, and was amazed to see one buckle slightly.
Jesus
,
what
is
that thing made
of?
I swung again, this time bending the bar substantially. I was about to try once more, to give it everything I had, when a group of Specials came running down the corridor and into the room.

I had no choice. Even though I'd drawn my laser, I knew there was no way I could get involved in a fire-fight, not with Lena and the baby right next to me.

“Let it go,” one of the Specials told me. “Nice and easy.”

With a sigh I dropped it, the laser clattering to the floor.

“Kick it under the bars.”

I kicked it with such frustration that it shot across the room and kinda lodged under an air-conditioning unit. Dr. Simon peered around the frame of the doorway, making sure it was safe before reentering. To be fair to the guy, he didn't look that pleased with himself.

“This is much bigger than you two,” he muttered, seemingly more to himself than anyone.

I was about to tell that slimy bastard exactly what I thought of him, what I'd do if I ever got the chance, when I heard another sound approaching down the corridor. At first I couldn't believe it—it couldn't be, not here. And yet those familiar clanking pneumatic footsteps, the slurp-slurp of every stride, it couldn't be anything else.
There was a growler approaching.

I turned to Lena, noticing as I put my arm around her that her eyes were almost clear of whatever she'd been given. Or maybe it was just fear shining through . . .

And yet, as the footsteps drew closer, it occurred to me that there was something different about them—no less frightening, and in fact, when I looked around I could see the Specials were every bit as intimidated as we were. They sounded less busy, less repetitive somehow, and it soon struck me why; whatever it was wasn't moving on four legs but two. It wasn't a growler at all—but I reckon I might've preferred it if it had been.

I guess it's a similar technology, maybe it was even where she got the idea: the way those things can instantly rend flesh and bone into nothing is probably something she admires. Nora Jagger
came striding into the room and I gotta say, if she'd been unnerving before, naked and without prosthetics, she was utterly terrifying now. Those eyes damn near bored through me with their white heat, and her scowl would've sent the sun screaming back to the horizon.

She never said a word, just glared at me as she gestured to one of the Specials to release the lockdown. The bars rose and she walked over, snatching her artificial arm away.

I tell ya, it was the weirdest thing. She just pushed it up the empty sleeve of her coat, with no ceremony at all, and as it got close to the stump of her arm it almost seemed to come to life, like some kind of animal wriggling up there, going into its hole.

“You must be the biggest fool ever,” she told me. “Did you really think you were just going to come waltzing in here and take your little maid?”

“I'm the father of the child!” I blurted out, like it gave me the right to do whatever I wanted.

“Yeah, well, let's hope it doesn't inherit your brain,” she said, checking her arm, that it felt right. Apparently satisfied, she whirled around, scanning the room, as if, now that she was whole again, she had a little business to attend to. “Who was in charge of guarding my quarters?” she asked.

For the first time I noticed the older Special, the one I'd sneaked past while he'd been looking out the window. He wasn't gonna answer her, you could see that. He was one of five lined up a little like they were on parade, that she began to circle around, glaring into their faces, waiting for one of them to crack.

When it happened, it was so swift, so brutal, it took your breath away. She suddenly lurched forward, grabbed the older guy and spun him around, getting him in a full nelson. The others panicked, scrambling outta the way, presumably 'cuz they'd seen similar scenes before. But I hadn't.

Jesus! I'll never forget it as long as I live. She just squeezed and squeezed, with those incredibly powerful arms of hers, and at first the guy was bewilderingly silent, almost compliant—then he began
to scream, to squeal like a pig being butchered. You could hear the crack as both his arms came out of their sockets, as his body began to break apart, but she hadn't finished with him yet. She just kept on applying pressure, those prosthetic arms locked at the back of his neck, pushing him down, doubling him over, 'til eventually—and God help me, I'll never get the image outta my mind—the flesh and bone simply gave way. His head detached from his shoulders and plopped on down onto the floor, rolling a little ways then stopping, briefly rocking back and forth.

There were muffled cries and gasps and one of the Specials looked away, retching repeatedly, and Lena and me took refuge in each other's arms.

“Clear it away!” Nora Jagger barked, then turned back to me, her sudden smile making her even more repulsive. “Get the picture?” she asked.

I never replied but I discreetly shuffled away from Lena. I was the one under threat and I didn't want to put her at risk. Anyways, what could I say? All the things I've seen in my life, the bad old days, even the very worst atrocities, were as nothing compared to this. This was violence of an order I could never have even imagined. And yet no matter how shocked I was, how concerned I'd be next, it still hadn't distracted me from the question that had reared up in my mind the moment Nora Jagger had entered the room: how the hell had she got free so quickly? I'd checked those bandages myself; there was no way she was going anywhere, and the door to the outer corridor had been jammed shut. We should've been well away before anyone was able to release her. I just didn't get it—and being the witch she was, she read it in my eyes.

“Yeah, like I said, none too bright,” she sneered. “You should've searched my quarters properly . . . I had a guest.”

I cursed to myself as my thoughts immediately went to that games room.

“A friend of mine,” she told me, “. . . and yours.” She waited for me to say something, but I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. “Come on in, my little stool pigeon!” she called to someone
obviously out in the corridor, breaking into yet another wickedly self-satisfied smile. “Or should that be . . . ‘seagull'?”

It was one of those moments when you're so shocked your brain simply refuses to handle it. I just gaped at the door, staring at who was standing there, desperate for everything to go on rewind. Gigi came shuffling in, not looking at me but still exuding a certain air of defiance.

“Oh, Jeez!” I groaned, collapsing inside as I instantly recognized that I should've known. She always had that slight air of mystery about her; always knew way too much for someone who'd only been off the Island the same amount of time we had. Her story about being recruited by one of the guys off the garbage boats had sounded plausible, and maybe it was true; the only thing was, at some point she'd obviously been recruited by Infinity as well. No wonder she wouldn't tell us where she lived, and why she was so cagey about the organization she'd joined. She had friends on the inside, all right—right at the very top.

“Why?” I asked her.

It was the obvious question, but I should've known how she'd answer—with one of her all-too-typical shrugs.

“When times are tough,” Nora Jagger chipped in, “people'll sell anything. Even their soul.”

“And lay down with the devil?”

“One day maybe,” she smirked, giving Gigi one of the creepiest looks I've ever seen.

“You make me sick, lady,” I told her.

“Oh, I'll make you more than that,” she promised, practically licking her lips in anticipation.

I knew she was gonna take revenge for what I did, especially messing with her prosthetics; I also guessed that, no matter how old, I was still a big guy, and she was gonna enjoy putting on another demonstration of her strength.

I glanced around the room, clocking her various sinister-looking toys, the many methods of torture, wondering what she had in mind.

“Oh, I won't be needing them,” she assured me.

“Just your bare hands,” I sneered.

She must've been at least ten feet away, but I got an immediate illustration of just how powerful those legs were when she kinda bounced at me, made this pneumatic spring and suddenly was right in my face; toppling me backward, trying to twist me around and grab me from behind the way she had that Special, but somehow I managed to wriggle free.

Lena screamed at her, told her to leave me alone, but you could see she was really in her element.

“If you hurt him, I'll kill this baby!” Lena threatened.

“How?” she asked. “You're going back into clamps and this time you won't be able to move a muscle, not until it's born.”

“I'll will it dead!” Lena told her. “I'll starve myself—I'll do everything I can to make it die inside me.”

“Lena!” I said, unable to suppress a protest.

“I don't care, Clancy. You come first.”

“We'll feed you intravenously,” Nora Jagger told her. “And in any case, if this sad old bastard can make you pregnant, there'll be others from that island who'll serve just as well.”

She turned back to me, again that wet-lipped smile appearing, and even though I'd already had one demonstration of what she could do, she leaped forward so quickly, I barely got out of the way in time. Even so, her outstretched fingers raked a mark across my forehead like I'd just fallen headlong into a shredder.

Whether I wanted to or not, I was getting a lesson in exactly what those limbs were capable of. So far I knew that her legs could jump, spring, and I'd be willing to bet, run further and faster than any animal on this earth, but it was the arms that really worried me. There didn't seem to be any kind of delay between her thinking what she was gonna do and them responding, almost as if they were ahead of her, even adding something of their own. No doubt Jimmy would be able to shine a little light on it, but all I knew was that this lethal hybrid of human and machine was rapidly closing in on me.

It didn't take a genius to work out that if I was gonna stop her, I needed to concentrate my efforts on that soft center the doc had
been massaging. I tried to get blows in at the points where her limbs met her body, hoping I might dislodge them somehow, but she was way too fast for me. I went for the stomach, try to knock the wind outta her, but again she blocked me and I was forced to back off.

I thought I had a pretty good idea what she was capable of, what to expect from her and her limbs, but suddenly she dropped to the floor, balanced on one hand and swept me with her legs. It damn near demolished me. Both my shins and kneecaps felt like they'd been shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and down I went. Before I could recover, she'd leaped on me and grabbed me around the neck. Somewhere I could hear screams, cries of “
No!
,” but all I knew was the all-encompassing force of those arms locked around my throat.

I must've passed out for a second or two, but when I came to, Nora Jagger was sprawled out on the floor in front of me. She didn't look that badly hurt, but had been dumped unceremoniously on her face. I turned around, wondering what the hell had happened, and saw a couple of Specials struggling with Lena, doing their best to restrain her. At her feet was this piece of fairly solid-looking machinery, maybe for giving electric shocks—but she'd used it as a far more basic form of weapon.

Nora Jagger pulled herself up, her expression demanding blood, leaping at Lena and hitting her so hard she flew across the room and collided with the wall.

“No!” Dr. Simon shouted, “
the baby!
”

I tell ya, I went crazy: throwing punches left and right, swinging and missing, doing everything I could to nail that damn ogress. But it was as if she'd put those arms in defense mode, no matter how many punches I threw, they were always in my way, and it wasn't long before I started to puff and blow and had to back off. Immediately she went on the offensive, swinging those prosthetics like sledgehammers, and with such force, all I could do was to dodge or run. A couple of times I wasn't quick enough—it was like being hit by a speeding truck, battered aside by some almighty force. I tried counter-punching, using moves I remembered from my old boxing
days, concentrating on the body, and maybe it did worry her that bit 'cuz she suddenly switched to trying to kick me.

The first time she did it, she damn near took my head off. She could jump almost as high as the ceiling, her legs scything through the air so fast you could barely see them. I leapt out of her way, backing off, dodging from side to side, but it wasn't long before I was seriously out of breath again. Mind you, to my immense relief, I saw I wasn't the only one, that she needed to stop too. I guess the thing was, no matter how powerful those artificial limbs, they still needed lungs, a heart, whatever, to sustain them.