Furnace 3 - Death Sentence (7 page)

THE TEST

Something was dripping on my face and it was driving me insane.

I snapped open my eyes, saw that the world was made of silver. I was confused for only a moment before I remembered my new eyes, the night vision letting me know I was in a small room made of rock. At first I thought I was back in the hole, in solitary confinement, until I looked to the side and saw a narrow passage leading off into shadows.

Another trickle of water brushed down my cheek and made my whole face itch. Looking up, I saw a hatch embedded in the rock maybe ten metres above my head. Even as I watched, two more globules peeled their way loose from the metal and fell, every detail perfectly sharp as they danced then merged with one another – platinum teardrops against the dark stone. I went to move out of their way but a cold grip on my wrists stopped me. Manacles, bolted into the wall.

What the hell was going on?

I thought back. Remembered the warden’s last words.
Let the test begin
. What kind of test was this?

Tugging on my chains did nothing but almost deafen me in the small space. I waited for the echoes to die out before searching the floor for a key. The cracks in the rock were laid out like a spider web of light, and there was nothing there but my own bare feet. I noticed the scars on my skin and remembered the surgery, the way my torso had looked the last time I’d seen it. I don’t know how long had passed since the wheezer had sent me to sleep, but it must have been a while because the pain had vanished completely.

And the warden was right. There had been no more nightmares.

Something groaned above me, so loud that I felt my heart stutter through a couple of beats before finding its rhythm again. I clambered to my feet as the trickle of droplets became a steady flow, as if somebody had turned on a tap on the other side of the hatch. The groan came again and this time I knew what it was. I felt my blood run cold, and it had nothing to do with the freezing downpour that was already starting to form puddles in the rock.

It was the sound that metal makes when it is under a huge amount of stress. The kind of stress that might come from an immense weight of water.

Before the third groan died out I had wrapped the chains around my hands and was pulling on them with all my might. There was now a veritable waterfall sluicing down the narrow shaft, making the floor slippery
and preventing me from getting a grip on the metal. Although the passageway next to me meant that the water wasn’t getting any deeper, I knew it was only a matter of time before the hatch gave out under pressure and I was crushed beneath a fist of white foam.

Swearing at the top of my voice, I braced my leg on the rock and leant back, tensing my arms and shoulders until I thought the muscles would burst through my skin. I could feel the strength inside me, feel every fibre of my being put to work. It was power I had never dreamed of possessing, but it wasn’t enough.

The hatch groaned again, then one corner popped loose from its casing. I looked up in time to see a jet of water cut down the cell, slapping me hard enough to make me lose my footing. I scrabbled up, screaming in rage as another hinge snapped above me and the jet became a blade.

This time I wrapped the chains around my chest and turned away from the wall, pulling on them like I was hauling a cart. The adrenaline pulsed through my veins like acid, and I could feel the nectar in there too, giving me strength, urging me on.

I wasn’t going to die like this. Not now that I finally had power at my fingertips.
I wasn’t going to die.

I gritted my teeth so hard I thought they might snap, pushing my foot back into the join between floor and wall and putting every muscle to work. There was another groan, and I almost dropped earthwards, thinking it was the hatch finally giving way. But then I felt the chains stretch and knew that this time they had made the sound.

I stopped for a second to recover my breath, then threw myself forward again. The chains cut into my wrists, into my chest, but the pain was good, spurring me on. With the squeal of metal on rock one of the bolts in the wall flew loose. Facing my strength alone, the other bolt didn’t stand a chance, ripping out a head-sized chunk of stone as it surrendered.

Momentum caused me to fly into the passageway, which probably saved my life. Above me the world seemed to collapse in on itself, a sound like the sky falling. The floor trembled as the water struck it, but by that time I was running along the passageway at full pelt, my chains dragging behind me.

My legs were like jackhammers, the silver cracks in the walls and floor flashing by like catseyes on a midnight motorway. I could feel the wind on my face, the sheer exhilaration of being able to run this fast making me grin despite the fact that death was right behind me. I risked a look over my shoulder, the unleashed river like a swirling torrent of mercury, gaining quickly. Too quickly.

I forced myself to run faster. There was nothing but rock ahead, no sign of a door or a junction or anything that might let me escape. I was stronger and faster than I had ever been, but my lungs were burning, my heart was threatening to burst its stitches, and I knew I couldn’t go on like this forever.

I felt the first cold tendrils of water on the back of my neck, the roar like some vast creature that saw its prey was trapped. I knew why it sounded so triumphant. It had held me in its teeth before, this river, an age ago.
I had escaped, and now it wanted to finish the job.

And it would. Up ahead the passageway was sealed, a dead end of solid rock. I was strong, but there was no way I could pummel my way through it. Not before the seething mass of water ground me to a pulp against the stone. This wasn’t a test, it was an execution.

I thought of the warden, his cold laughter as I died, and the anger clawed its way up from my stomach. Uttering an animal cry of pure rage, I charged at the wall, my fists raised. The water was almost upon me, its cold fingers the touch of death. So this is how it would end. Crushed between the unstoppable force of the river and the immovable weight of the rock.

I had almost smashed into the end of the passageway when I noticed the tunnel angling upwards. I reacted instantly, propelling myself off the ground and bracing myself in the narrow chute. The water flooded the space I’d occupied only moments ago with a sound like an atomic bomb being detonated, flecks of foam resembling pale talons reaching up for me. The river wasted no time in continuing the chase, bubbling up against the rock with frightening speed.

Snatching in a lungful of air, I began to climb, my silver eyes picking out cracks and crevices in the rock and my massive arms pulling me up with ease. The heaving breath of the river made the stone slick and slippery, but every time I thought I’d lost my grip I rammed my legs against the sides of the vertical tunnel, locking myself in place. The water was fast, but I was faster. I was going to outclimb it.

And then the top of the shaft came into sight, sealed tight by a hatch.

I vaulted up the last few metres with a grace that surprised me, leaping from side to side like an ape. Wedging my feet in opposite corners, and hooking one hand into a crack in the ceiling, I reached up and felt the ring of metal. A single touch told me the hatch was solid steel, at least as big and as heavy as the one that had kept me in solitary. The water was still rising, maybe five metres between its icy depths and me. I had only one chance.

Furious, I bunched up my fist and threw it at the hatch. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but the sound it made when it connected almost made me lose my footing. The crack of bone on steel, and my cry of pain, were twin echoes that dropped down the shaft until they were swallowed by the roar of the river.

It felt like my hand had been put down a garbage disposal, the pain unbelievable, even when compared with everything else I’d been through. But when I looked at the hatch I was amazed to see a dent in the metal, as though it had been struck by a sledgehammer.

Grunting, I smashed my other fist against the hatch, this time causing the edge to buckle. Blood dripped from my knuckles, turning the white foam red inches beneath my feet. This time I wrapped the heavy chains once around each hand and lashed out again, and again, left and right, the steel barricade bending out of shape with each strike.

The water reached my ankles, its touch seeming to drain all warmth from me. I gripped the ceiling harder,
tensed my legs and my back to give my arm more leverage as it blasted upwards again. The hatch bent even further outwards, but still it didn’t break. Past its warped edge I could see the flickering light of torches, and more than anything I wanted to be out there. I didn’t want to die like this, swallowed whole by a beast of ice.

But the river was up to my waist in seconds, so cold it made me feel as though all the bones had been filleted from my body. By the time it had reached my chest, my muscles had no strength left in them. I tried to take in one last breath but the water was too eager, filling the top of the shaft in a heartbeat and sliding its cold fingers down my throat.

I choked, spasms ripping through my body as it fought for air. But there was none to be had. No air, no warmth, no strength. All I had left was my anger. It seethed and coiled inside me like a living thing, telling me to bunch up my fist again, ordering me to lash out one last time.

The punch was slowed by the water, but not by much. It tore towards the hatch, impacting with enough strength to send a shock wave pulsing down the river. I felt something snap – a pistol shot, deafening in the maelstrom – and thought it was my bones breaking.

Then the hatch swung open and I was pushed through it by the very force that had sought to drown me. I landed hard, slapping my still-bunched fists against the rock as I fought for breath. The water continued to
pump through the hatch, but I was lying in a huge chamber full of rocks and the tide pooled harmlessly on the uneven floor.

It couldn’t touch me here. I was safe. I’d passed the warden’s pathetic test with colours flying, if a little ragged. I started to laugh, hacking coughs that were more liquid than air, and so loud that I didn’t hear them approaching until too late.

And it was only when a dozen needled teeth sunk into my flesh that I realised the test wasn’t over yet.

It had only just begun.

SELF-DEFENCE

I kicked out, connecting with something soft and sending it reeling back. The needles slid from my flesh but I barely felt them, my survival instinct forcing me to my feet in time to see a constellation of silver lights turning towards me.

Rats. The chamber was full of them.

The one I had kicked shook itself like a dog, its long forelegs flapping limply from side to side. It wasn’t particularly big – smaller than me – but its bulging jaw was packed full of teeth which glinted in the torchlight. It opened its maw and let loose a chilling scream that echoed round the large room. Then it charged, pounding across the wet rock and throwing itself at me.

I threw up my arms to protect my face as the creature slammed into me like a freight train, locking its jaws around my wrist. We tumbled back, rolling into a pillar of rock which jutted out from the floor. Luckily the rat took the brunt of the impact, the shock loosening its teeth from my flesh long enough for me to wrap a hand around its throat.

It snarled, its entire body bucking against my grip, but I held on as tightly as I could. My knuckles were already starting to swell, the bones grinding against each other inside my torn skin, but I had no other weapons. Pulling back my chainmail fist like a spring, I unleashed another punch, this one catching the rat on the jaw. It sounded like a gun had been fired inside its throat, its head snapping round at an impossible angle and the convulsions becoming weak death throes.

There was no time to gloat. I spun round at the sound of claws on stone, saw a second rat hurtling my way. This one was so disfigured I couldn’t tell what it had once been, its skinny legs and body that of a dog but its face too flat to be canine. Its hairless form glistened in the soft light, every strand of muscle flexing then contracting as it bounded this way.

It was on me in seconds, straightening up from four legs to two and slashing at my chest with razor-sharp claws. I leapt out of its reach, preparing to turn and run, but before I could I heard a growl behind me.

Something slammed into my back, pushing me into the path of the rat. This time its claws raked my stomach, pulling loose stitches. I yelled out as the pain flared, but the sound was cut off by a filthy paw inside my mouth. It ripped at my jaw, jagged claws against my tongue as it pulled me to the floor. Then they were both on me, their hands like some monstrous machine tearing chunks of flesh from my torso.

A long time ago, in another life, I would have laid
down and died. But not now. I was the predator, not the prey. I was the hunter, not the meat.

I bit down on the thing inside my mouth, feeling hot blood gush into my throat. I spat it out, heaving in a breath before letting my rage explode from me as a guttural roar. It was a howl of pure animal fury, the cry of a killer, and the rats knew it.

The first leapt off my chest, backing away with a feeble whimper. The other wasn’t so lucky. Before the ghost of my battle cry had faded from the walls I had my hands around its head. The first time I smashed it against the rock it let out a squeal of pain. The second time it was silent. By the fifth time there was nothing left in my fingers but mush.

I got to my feet, the nectar pumping me full of strength, full of anger. Arching my back, I let out another cry, this one tearing around the chamber like a demon. I had never felt so alive, so powerful. This was my domain now, my territory.

The second rat bolted, its razor-clawed feet skidding as it swung round the rocky pillar and vanished. I cracked my swollen knuckles, tightened the chains around them, then charged after it. Anything that tried to mess with me now would pay the price.

I rounded the pillar to see the floor moving. There must have been a whole nest of rats in here, almost a dozen of them squirming across the rock. Most were clustered in one corner and I soon saw why.

Tied to a wooden post like some sacrificial offering was a figure far smaller than any of the rats, a boy whose
face was covered in blood but still familiar. I thought he was dead, but as the creatures turned to face me the kid raised his head and opened his mouth. Even from across the other side of the chamber I could understand what he said.

‘Help me.’

I charged, too fast for the rat in front of me. Snatching it up in my giant hands I hurled it across the room, its squeal dying out as it slammed into the main pack. It was like watching skittles fly, the creatures lurching to either side as they saw their brother dashed to pieces on the rock. I didn’t give them a chance to get angry, throwing myself into their midst with my arms flailing.

I caught one with a blow to the temple, hard enough to crack its skull. The second had its teeth in my shoulder before I could stop it, but pain was a distant memory and I used my other hand to pull it loose, barely noticing that it took a strip of skin with it. I threw the creature at the wall, not needing to look to see whether it would get up again.

The rats were starting to panic, crashing into each other as they scrabbled out of my way. I caught one by its hind legs, swung it round like a club and took down two more before launching it into the air. Before they could get to their feet I had a knee on each of their backs, wrenching their heads up until their spines snapped.

‘Jesus, Alex – is that you?’ said the kid tied to the pole. I looked up from my killing ground, fixed him a glare that made him shrink back against his chains. ‘It’s
Ozzie. Simon’s friend. Remember? Help me, get me out of here.’

I heard the patter of feet behind me. The last three rats had closed ranks, charging forward as one. The two on the outside were savage but small, running upright. One must have had surgery on its arm, the overstuffed limb hanging uselessly from a narrow shoulder. The other had a monster’s legs attached to its skinny torso.

But the one in the middle was big and mean, every limb except its left leg stuffed with muscle and its torso so huge it looked like it had been chiselled from rock. The creature limped, but that didn’t stop it covering ground like a bear. None of them took their eyes from me and I recognised the expression in their twisted faces. They were angry, they were furious. And it gave them strength.

I ducked my head and charged, knowing that to show any sign of weakness would mean death. One of the smaller rats skidded to a halt, shaking its head and whimpering, but I didn’t care. I kept the big one in my sights, never breaking eye contact with its silver gaze. Travelling this fast, the distance between us shrank away in a split second, and we collided with a thump of flesh on flesh.

The impact ripped the breath from my lungs, giving the rat the advantage. It grabbed my face in one giant paw, slamming it down against the rock, then rammed its knees into my chest. Stars exploded in my vision, fading into blackness. I felt the other one grab my arm, its jaws snapping like a bear trap on my flesh, but with
the huge creature pinning me down I couldn’t get leverage to shake it off.

Snarling like a rabid dog, the huge rat lunged towards my throat, its teeth glinting like broken glass. I barely got my other arm up in time, wedging the chains into the corner of its maw and pushing it away with what little strength I had left. The rat lost its balance, toppling from my chest. I saw my chance, swinging my leg round and ramming my knee into its head.

I didn’t wait to see what damage I had done before wrenching my arm free and backing off. Blood was pouring from me with the same force that water had been leaking from the hatch back in the tunnel, and I was starting to feel light-headed. I knew I couldn’t last much longer. I had to finish this.

With another cry of rage I threw myself back into the melee. Using my left hand this time, I smacked the smaller rat square on the nose, sending it sprawling back onto the rock. Before it had landed I lifted my right arm in an uppercut, catching its bigger friend in the stomach. It was like punching a wall, the muscles like paving slabs, but it was obviously winded as it staggered away from me, growling weakly.

I took my eyes from it for a second, scoured the floor for something I could use as a weapon. It didn’t take long. The chamber was littered with scraps of broken rock, and I hefted one the size of a watermelon. Both rats turned to run, but I was on them in a single leap, molten fury turning my vision white and making my body act as though it had a mind of its own.

The first went down with a sickening whack, somersaulting twice before coming to a rest. The bigger rat almost outran me, but there was nowhere for it to go in the chamber. It didn’t have time to turn and face me before I crushed its head between the wall and my rock.

Turning, I spotted the last rat bolting to the corner where the kid had been tied. I don’t know what it was doing, but there was no escape from the anger that drove me. Three huge strides and I was across the chamber, a scream of defiance bubbling from my bloody throat as I brought the rock down onto its skull. It sagged, its death instantaneous.

‘Thank you –’

Still drunk on adrenaline, I had turned and lashed out before I even knew what I was doing. Somewhere in my head I knew the rats were all dead, knew there was nothing left to kill. But my mind was so exhausted, so filled with fury, that I couldn’t stop myself.

The kid, Ozzie, looked at me in disbelief. His mouth dropped, and from it ran a single thread of dark blood. It trickled down his chin, arcing under his throat and merging with the crimson tide which flowed from the wound in his temple.

‘Alex,’ he said, and although his lips continued to move there was no breath for them to make words with.

I dropped the rock, staggered back, unable to take my eyes from his, even when the light had left them, turning their sky blue to pale grey. He slumped, held up by
the wooden post as though his body was refusing to acknowledge its own death.

What had I done? Even though the nectar still seared my mind with darkness, my heart pumping with my victory against the rats, I knew I had committed a terrible crime. The kid had been helpless. He wasn’t a rat, he was a person. And I had killed him.

‘No,’ I growled, fighting against the burning wave of emotion that rose from my stomach. ‘You deserved to die. You deserved to die.’

He
did
. He had been pathetic, too weak to even free himself. He had been nothing but prey for the rats, nothing but prey for
me
. I pictured his face, doe-eyed as the vermin closed in on him, too scared even to scream. This was how all the weak of the world would meet their end, devoured by predators like me. Ozzie had been nothing, a nobody, and he had deserved to die.

And I kept telling myself that, even as I stood in the middle of the chamber, racked by tremors that caused my teeth to chatter and sent blood showering from my wounds. I kept telling myself that because it was the only way to survive the guilt. It was the only way to survive the knowledge of what I had just done without taking the rock and stoving in my own brain. It was the only way to survive the test.

Because the warden was right. I was a monster now. And there was no going back.