The Hurst Chronicles (Book 1): Hurst (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

They threw caution to the wind and raced down the stairs to ground level, with Stella leading the way. She was light on her feet and seemed to know her way around the maze of passages and waiting rooms. Riley had to shout louder than she dared to get Stella to slow down. Zed and Sean were bringing up the rear and in danger of losing contact with the lead group. Behind them they could hear raised voices chasing after them. They didn’t have time to wait and risk being caught. Zed’s arm was in a bad way.

It had all happened so quickly. Mila had been grabbed from behind and in the scuffle to free her, he had fallen. In the resulting wrestle with one of the guards, his hand and wrist were badly cut by shards of glass from a smashed glazed partition wall. Mila had done some running repairs. She had torn off a strip of her shirt and bandaged the injured arm as best she could. As they ran, blood had soaked through the cotton material and now bright red droplets dripped on to the grey linoleum tiles, leaving a clear path for their pursuers to follow.

At the bottom of the last flight of stairs, they regrouped. Riley counted heads. “Everyone ok?” She noticed Zed cradling his left arm and wincing from the pain. He nodded back: “I’m fine. Don’t slow down on my account.”

At the doorway to the main corridor on the ground floor, she nudged open the heavy fire door and checked the path ahead was clear. There were voices off to the left and torch light dancing along the walls at the far end. To their right there was silence. In all the commotion, Riley couldn’t be sure whether it was left or right. Which way led back to their point of entry?

Joe caught up with her and pointed right and they wasted no time in retracing their steps and making it back to the way out through the maintenance area. They passed the machinery and out through the fire door, which hung broken on its top hinge. Stepping outside into the cool night air, it was pitch black. A light mist hung in the trees. An evening dew had transformed the grassy slope ahead of them into a sparkling carpet of thousands of water droplets hanging on each blade. Out here, the alarm sounded distant and strangely muted. Their eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness. They couldn’t risk using one of the torches they carried to avoid revealing their position.

They could just make out the large oak tree they’d climbed, its long branches overhanging the fence. Riley raced up to it in long strides and stood underneath the largest branch with hands on hips looking up. It was out of her reach, almost ten feet from the ground. Sean arrived beside her panting heavily and immediately got down on his hands and knees, like they’d planned, to let her climb on to his back. She took a couple of breaths, straddled his shoulders and with a grunt he lifted her high enough. With a small boost, she reached for the branch and pulled herself up. Once she’d maneuvered herself into a secure position, gripping the branch with her thighs and reaching down with her right hand, with Sean’s help she levered Adele and then Stella up with minimal effort. Joe was next. It took a couple of attempts before Sean took a deep breath, changed position and tried something else. Offering his cupped hands instead, he braced with one knee to give Joe a boost up. The others stood guard waiting their turn as Joe was man-handled onto the branch, puffing and soaked in sweat. They were nervously keeping watch on the fire door. Towards the main building they could see a small crowd gathering in the distance, squinting in to the darkness, their lanterns held high. Between Zed and Sean they hauled Mila up and over which just left the pair of them.

The fire door to the hospital burst open and three men emerged into the night. The beams of light from their powerful torches arced round in opposite directions trying to find the Hurst group.

Sean looked back at Zed, pointing at the centre of his chest and in a low insistent voice said: “You’re first, big man. With that busted arm, there’s no way you can pull yourself up on your own. Come on.”

“No way Sean. I’m not leaving you behind.”

“We don’t have time to argue. I’m lighter and I can jump higher. Come on, quickly.” He stooped down and cupped his hands together, waiting for Zed’s foot. Zed tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t like it but he had no choice, Sean was right. He planted his right boot, and with one hand, he reached up as high as he could manage. Between Joe and Riley they heaved his large frame up and onto the branch, which creaked loudly under their combined weight.

The torches flashed up to their position, homing in on the noise, and two of the men hurtled across the parking area towards them. A wild shot rang out, going high and wide. It was enough to get the rest of the group scurrying with more urgency along the branch and jumping down the other side of the fence.

Sean stood underneath the branch practice swinging his arms looking up hopefully, readying himself to jump. Riley and Joe reached down as far as they could, their fingers splayed wide, expectantly. Sean looked back over his shoulder at the approaching pair. It was now or never. He leaped into the air as high as he could but only managed to touch fingers with Joe, who couldn’t grab hold. He landed heavily and readied himself for another go. The armed men were close now and a volley of automatic fire peppered the tree, but Riley and Joe lay flat against the branch and were unharmed. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he leapt as high as his tired legs would allow. Riley grabbed hold of his wrist with Joe reaching down and seizing the sleeve of his jacket. They hoisted him up slowly, straining, every sinew bursting. Sean reached up and got a hand on Joe’s back, a smile forming on his face and he relaxed just a fraction, sensing safety within his grasp.

Riley felt Sean’s whole body tense and go rigid as a shot found its mark in his lower back. His grip weakened and he went limp as his life force drained rapidly. As best they tried, they couldn’t pull him up as he became a dead weight in their hands.  They tried one last time, but his eyes were closing and with a shriek of despair from Riley, his clammy hand slipped from her grasp and he fell on to the grass below. His limbs crumpled awkwardly underneath him, lifeless. Riley stared after him, repeating “No, no, no,” in disbelief.

“We need to leave now,” interrupted Joe. He had to drag Riley away. She was sobbing lightly. Gunshots splintered the wood over their heads but their pursuers couldn’t see them well through the foliage. Zed stood next to the fence, his revolver raised, taking careful aim at the approaching group. He fired a single shot and didn’t stay to see if he’d hit his mark. The others jumped down on the other side of the fence and followed Zed up the bank and away to their rendezvous point in the dip by the wall where they would be safe, for now.

Zed paused on the crest of the bank and counted the others in. As they passed him, he put his hand on each shoulder, a weak smile on his face as he welcomed the new arrivals, Stella and Adele. Riley was the last to arrive. He reached out to pull her up the bank, but she refused his help and stared past him, “Don’t touch me.”  He shrugged and took one last look at the hospital before turning away. Their pursuers hadn’t tried to follow them over the fence, but he could be sure they were assembling a search party. They would not wait till morning to hunt them down. They had a few minutes head start only. There was no time to waste.

Chapter twenty-five

Will’s eyes flicked open and he sat bolt upright, gathering his senses. The fire alarm was real not part of the restless dream he had been having. There was a commotion outside his room. He was still handcuffed to the bedpost, but stood up as best he could, trying to better understand what the raised voices outside were saying. If it was a fire, someone would come and let him out. They wouldn’t just leave him in here, would they? Maybe someone had set off the alarm deliberately. Who knew?

He sat back down, and tried to ease the handcuffs over his balled fist, but it was no good. He had tried a hundred times already. How did they manage it in the movies? Was there a trick to it? He spent a couple of minutes hawking up some spit from an otherwise parched mouth and throat. He spat on his wrists for lubrication, but however he contorted his thumb and fingers, the result was the same. His thumbs were red raw from repeated efforts and he gave up.

Footsteps in the corridor were followed by the familiar jangle of keys. The handle turned slowly and the door was slammed open. The shrill wail of the alarm alternated pitch every second. The noise was deafening and for a second he shielded one side of his head with his free hand. Three men he recognized from earlier surged in to the room, boots heavy on the tiled floor. The first man had a swagger about him, an automatic rifle held one handed at the stock, pointing towards the ceiling. Behind him stood the man in black. He pushed the door closed, his head cocked to the side.

“Looks like your friends from Hurst have come to rescue you. Shame they won’t find you. Must be nice to have friends,” he mocked.

The two henchmen laughed sycophantically. The thug at the rear of the group looked on menacingly, chewing gum, with a fixed snarl on his face. He looked like a down-on-his-luck bouncer from an after-hours club. He was dressed head-to-toe in paramilitary black. They all were. Perhaps it was the fashion round these parts. Paramilitary black was the ‘new black’. The thuggish man’s cold impassive eyes stared straight through Will as if he wasn’t there. On his shoulder there was a discoloured patch where an epaulette or rank insignia would have normally been. This had to be the man they called ‘Copper’, though he’d never seen his face until now. He was barrel-chested, with a thick neck, the hint of a colourful tattoo just visible above the collar and heavy stubble on his chin that had been shaped into a goatee. He shaved his scalp to within a millimetre. Will could smell the man from where he sat. There was a heady blend of sweat, alcohol and unbridled aggression. He was a powder keg of testosterone with a short fuse, just ready to go off. The back of Will’s neck throbbed as a timely reminder of why not to provoke a psychopath without good reason.

“Well, your ‘friends’ have made a wasted journey. They won’t find you up here. They’re looking in the wrong place for starters. Don’t worry Will. We’ll catch them, that’s what these guys do, catch people. Isn’t that right Copper? They’ll hunt them down wherever they’re hiding. And when we do, we’ll send them back to Hurst in pieces, won’t we boys?”

It struck Will that the man in black was trying just a little too hard. Trying to appear tough and ruthless. Playing a part and living up to the expectations of those around him, but not altogether convincingly. He tried to imagine what this man might have been before the breakdown, before the world had collapsed in short order, like a house of cards. He imagined a downtrodden middle manager in a regional office. Years of frustrations heaped upon him, of being talked down to. A broken family. Absent parents. A messy divorce. Children taken away from him by court order. A lifetime of bitterness and disappointments that had led to this point: the birth of a monster. Will pitied and despised him in equal measures. Wasn’t he just the product of a dysfunctional society, one that had deserved to collapse? Or maybe he was just born an evil bastard. Nature or nurture, he wasn’t sure which.

The man in black half turned towards Copper, but didn’t look directly at him.

“Take your squad and go set up a little surprise party for them. A roadblock on the main road. Don't bother bringing me prisoners. I want them all dead.”

“You got it.” Copper turned and left with a final dead-eyed glance at Will.

“Oh he really likes you,” said the man in black. “I think he’s dreaming up something special, a fitting demise, something truly monstrous for you when the time comes.”

“And I’m saving something special for him too.” Will blew him a kiss, but it was too late. Copper didn’t look round and kept walking out the door and down the corridor, his rifle slung over the shoulder at his side.

“Didn’t we teach you some manners last time? You’re not learning are you? I can forgive rudeness once, but if it’s repeated, well then…” He wandered closer and caressed the back of Will’s head, lingering around the fresh dressing which was already stained a light brown. He pressed his fingers softly into the wound, enjoying Will’s discomfort. “Those stitches look sore. We wouldn’t want them opening up again, would we?”

He grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked Will’s head back hard. Will looked up at him undaunted as the man in black sneered. “You people are pathetic, holed up in that big castle, cowering behind your high walls. Do you really think they’re going to stop my men from barging in there and taking it for ourselves? Don’t make me laugh.”

“How about it, John?” he said, addressing the remaining henchman, who didn’t appear to have a neck at all. Head and shoulders with not much in between. “I’ve always fancied myself living in a castle. Perhaps I’ll choose a wife from your group, eh? Or maybe I’ll just slaughter the whole lot of them in their sleep.”

He pointed to the handcuffs and gestured to the other man. “Unlock him from the bed but keep those cuffs on him. We’re all going for a little drive.”

“If you’re going to try and make me talk about Hurst again, forget it.”

“There’s really no need. You see, you were kind enough to tell us everything we need to know already. One of the doctors here injected you with a potent cocktail of drugs that would have made a condemned man sing like a canary. Let’s just say you were more than helpful. I’ll make sure to tell all your friends before I kill them that you were the one who gave up all of Hurst’s secrets.”

Will looked confused. He had absolutely no memory of what he’d said, but at the back of his mind, he was beginning to think he’d told him exactly what they’d wanted to know. He knew Hurst’s defences like the back of his hand, having repaired walls, fixed drains and leaking roofs, even fortified doorways over the last few weeks. There were a couple of places where, with a grappling hook and some climbing skills, you could get over the castle walls unseen. Once inside the main wall, a single person could get in and open the main gate to a larger force. There were only ever a couple of guards at night, a single patrol every hour. The castle would fall. There was no question. Unless. Unless he could get a message to them first and make sure they were ready and prepared to repel the attack.

“Your plan will never work. Whatever you think you found out, whatever you think I told you, you don’t stand a chance. Hurst has never fallen in more than five hundred years. It’s a fortress. And don’t go thinking you can just waltz in there and everyone will lay down their arms and surrender. They’ll fight to the death to protect what’s theirs. I can assure you, they’re heavily armed and the castle is well defended. Your men will die and you will lose. My life is unimportant.”

The man in black was puzzled by Will’s bravado. He spoke in a soft voice, leaning close to Will’s ear, studying the side of his head. There was almost tenderness to his words when he spoke again. “I admire your spirit, Will, really I do. In fact, that’s exactly why you’re coming along for the ride. You’ll be my personal guide when Hurst falls. I want you to see the whole thing.”

They heard footsteps in the hall. A man in a white coat was running down the long hallway towards them. It was the same Indian doctor who had treated Will earlier. The guard stepped in to his path, blocking the doorway and motioned for him to slow down. Raj skidded to a halt, bent over, hands on knees, just outside the door, trying to get his breath. Just then the alarm fell silent and a sense of normality returned. The guard glanced at the man in black, who nodded, and he stepped aside to allow the doctor to pass.

“Sorry to interrupt but I was sent to deliver a message. The girls are gone,” said Raj apologetically.

“What girls? What are you talking about?” asked the man in black.

“Both the test subjects. You know, the clinical trials you’ve had the lab team working on? Adele and Stella.”

“How is that possible? What about the men guarding them? Were the girls not locked up like the rest of them?”

Raj looked uneasy, unsure how to respond.

“I’m not sure. I was just asked to deliver the message. Perhaps the guards were not at their posts. They were downstairs with the rest of us, listening to your address.”

“Amateurs,” he spat in disgust. “How many times have I told them?” He ran his fingers threw his hair, and scratched the back of his neck lost in thought for a few seconds.

Will seized on this set back. “What’s so special about the girls? You have hundreds of prisoners here. Why them?” he asked provocatively.

The man whipped round in a flash. He drew a knife and held it to Will’s throat. The blade nicked the skin so that a tiny pinprick of blood pooled and trickled down his neck.

“Did you have something to do with this? We thought they were here for you, but perhaps you were the diversion all along.”

Will shook his head, breathing heavily, leaning his head away from the point of the blade. “I assure you, I had nothing to do with this,” he whispered.

He slapped Will hard with the back of his hand across the face, knocking him backwards on to the bed.

Turning back to face the guard and doctor, his face was red, his throat and chest blotchy with rage.

“Those girls are critical to our research. We’ve got to find them. Do whatever it takes?”

The henchman attempted to calm the man in black with some reassuring, carefully chosen words. “Don’t worry sir, we’ll get them back. We know where they’re heading at least.”

The doctor chimed in: “They can’t have any idea how important those girls are to our research.”

He turned and shouted at the guard. “Get them back, unharmed. Hurst will pay for this.”