Holes in the Ground (10 page)

So how did that creature know about his biggest fear?

Chandelling sat down at his desk and flopped into the soft Italian leather of his office chair, watching his goldfish, Satchmo, swim around in his aquarium. As the music played, Chandelling thought about the batling. Bub. Very few of the other occupants of the Spiral talked. That suited Chandelling just fine. He didn’t like to talk, either. He maintained professional, if aloof, relationships with his co-workers, and hadn’t discussed his personal life with any of them, with the exception of Dr. Gornman’s required weekly therapy sessions. And those were supposed to be confidential, like speaking to a lawyer or a priest.

Perhaps Bub could read minds. Or was somehow supernatural.

The track changed to
Don’t Fence Me In
, but it failed to sooth Chandelling like it usually did because of the last thing Bub had said to him.

“Hoooooooow issssssss your heeeeeeearing? Think it will laaaaaaaaast?”

Chandelling touched his ear, and couldn’t help but believe he’d just been threatened. And the threat was not only serious, it was legitimate.

While Andy and Sun verbally jousted with the hellspawn, Jerry decided to walk up and down the corridor and check out the various other creatures imprisoned behind the glass walls. It was scary, for sure, but it seemed to be the ‘okay’ kind of scary, like a horror film or a rollercoaster. They were locked up. He was safe.

Supposedly.

He passed by a misshapen bear-like creature with long arms and ropey white body hair. It looked like what Jerry imagined a yeti to be like, but the text on the LED screen read:
Grendaline Historicum.
Long yellow claws. Long yellow teeth. Tiny curled horns, like a ram. It watched Jerry, its bright blue eyes following him as he passed

Another cell gave off a stench worse than rotting meat.
Homo Romero
. It was humanoid, green with decay, and lumbering around like the living dead. Which, Jerry guessed, was exactly what it was.

“So are you a slow zombie, like in all the 80s Lucio Fulci movies, or a quick one like
28 Days Lat
er and the
Dawn of the Dead
remake?”

No reply.

“Do you eat whole people or just brains?”

No reply.

“Can you even hear me?”

The zombie leapt at the glass, much faster than Jerry would have guessed, and grunted out,
“Braaaaains!”

“Okay, questions answered. Cheers. You can go back to your lumbering now.”

The next one actually made Jerry laugh. It was nothing more than a banana, lying in the middle of the cell. According to the LED, it was called
Mu
.

“What do you do?”

The banana didn’t reply.

“Why are you on subbasement 5? How are you dangerous? In case someone walks on you and slips?”

“Nobody likes you,” the banana said. “You’re a loser and you’re ugly and stupid. It’s no wonder you’re a virgin.”

“Hey! That’s mean!”

“Ugly. Small cock, too.”

“Stop it.”

“Ugly virgin with a baby dick. And such a disappointment to your family. Whoops, no family.”

Jerry’s eyebrows furrowed and his hands involuntarily clenched into fists. “Enough!”

“Nobody likes you, and if you ever want to have sex you’ll need to pay for it. Double the asking price.”

“You fucking dick!”

“Sticks and stones, ugly,” the banana answered. “You can try some beauty sleep, but it won’t help.”

Jerry quickly moved on, feeling pretty bad about himself. No wonder Mu was on the bottom level. That banana could really say some terrible things.

The most frightening creature on subbasement 5 was the thing in cell 6 named
Nosferatus Hominic
.
The monster looked mostly like a man, but its jaws were more like a shark’s with rows upon rows of lethal dagger-like teeth, so many they tore through its lips and cheeks. When it saw Jerry it threw itself at the glass, clawing and snapping, its black eyes crazed with bloodlust. Jerry was glad for the six-inch barrier separating them.

In the next cell was Wolfie, or
Lycanus Canini
as the LED display noted. When the hairy, dog-like creature saw Jerry, it too came closer to the glass, but it wasn’t in a threatening manner like the occupant of cell 6. Its breath fogged the window.

“Hey, there.” Jerry placed a hand against it, as if petting the beast’s snout. “Do you want to eat me? Or are you just bored?”

Wolfie sat down, its ears pricking up like a border collie’s.

“Yeah, I think you’re just bored. How long they have you caged-up down here? Years, I bet.”

The creature let out a soft whine. It was somewhere between a begging sound and one of barely-contained excitement.

“I used to have an old dog named Betsie.” Part of Jerry knew it was silly talking to a giant wolf, but he didn’t care. “My mom was always working and I was at school, so Betsie would get left alone a lot. Whenever I walked through the door she would go completely barmy. She would run around the flat back and forth between the rooms, whining and yelping. When she finally calmed down she would sit on my lap with her legs in the air and I would tickle her belly. I can’t imagine how miserable she would have been if we’d locked her up and just never came home.”

Wolfie sat down, wagging his tail.

“I don’t think it’s right that they have you down here. You don’t look dangerous to me. You may have bitten that General dude, but he’s an asshole.”

To Jerry’s surprise, Wolfie let out a bark. It was the friendly, yippy bark that Betsie had used to make when he would come home from school.

Jerry grinned. “Dude, I would so adopt you if I could. Ben would shit his pants if he saw me walking you around the block. Oh yeah, right. You don’t know about Ben.”

Wolfie began to wag its enormous tail.

“Ben’s been my best friend since, like, forever. We grew up together, were in the same class in first school. I think I used to get on his nerves sometimes. He was smart, had his shit together, you know? I’ve always been a bit of a disaster zone. He always stuck by me, though, through thick and thin. Thing is, he wasn’t just my best friend, he was my half-brother. Only he didn’t know about it. My mom had an affair with his dad when they were both really young. Mom got pregnant but he didn’t want anything to do with it—the
prick
. He was getting married to another woman who was pregnant with Ben at the time. So I grew up without a dad. Through some crazy coincidence, I ended up making friends with Ben on our first day of school. Of course, I didn’t know then that we were brothers. It wasn’t until I was older that my mother came clean—although it took a bottle of vodka to make her tell me. I was shocked at the time; upset, you know? But in the end I decided to keep it to myself. Ben and I were so close anyway. What difference would telling him have made?”

Wolfie whined again. Ben stroked the glass.

“Ben’s dad used to treat me like shit whenever he caught me hanging around with Ben. Used to warn him that I would bring him down. Who he was really slagging off, though, was my mom. He had money, a business, a nice little family. My mom had me and a crummy council flat. Ben’s dad—huh,
my
dad—looked down on me and my mom like shit on his shoe from the moment I was born.” Jerry took a moment to catch his breath. He was breathing hard and felt anger in his veins. “When my mom died he didn’t even come to the fucking funeral. I was so mad.” Jerry took a breath and let it out in a bitter chuckle. “I showed
him
, though.”

Someone stepped out of the elevator at the end of the corridor and startled Jerry. It was a young bird with auburn hair and pale skin. Her red lips pursed when she smiled at him.

“Oh, hi. Sorry,” he said. “I know I’m not supposed to be walking around here on my own, but the Dennison-Joneses are just down the hall.”

“It’s okay. Don’t see what harm you could do anyway. General Kane is just being overly cautious. Being a hardass is kind of his job.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

The girl giggled. “I’m Nessie. Pleased to meet you. You must be Jerry.”

Jerry took her hand. It was soft and small, like holding a rosebud. “Pleased to meet you too. Take it you’ve been warned about me?”

“Nope. Dr. Chandelling just told me that we had a young Englishman on site. Love your accent by the way. Reminds me of my daddy a little. He was from Belfast. Not the same, I know, but it’s still a nice change from all the American accents I’m used to hearing.”

Jerry smiled. He wanted to say something funny, or at least interesting, but nothing came out.

“So, what are you up to?” Nessie asked him.

Jerry shrugged his shoulders. He wondered if she’d heard him talking to the creature in the cell. If she had, he was embarrassed about it. No point hiding it, though. Last thing to do in a secret underground government facility was act suspiciously. “I was just chatting with Wolfie here.”

Nessie raised an eyebrow and gave him a lopsided grin that was extremely cute. “Wolfie?”

“Yeah, better than calling him
Lycanus Canini
.”

“I suppose you’re right. Don’t know who came up with all the names, but they do lack personality. Wolfie here can be quite playful. I smuggled a few chew toys in and he seems to like them. Don’t tell the General, though. They don’t get along.”

Jerry smiled. He was glad there was at least one person looking out for Wolfie. “So, erm, is there anything I can help you with? I’d like to make myself useful around here.”

Nessie chewed the side of her mouth and seemed to think. “You can help me do some research in the library, but I’m only going to be in there for an hour or so.
Fatal Autonomy
is on later and I never miss it.”

Jerry laughed. He was surprised that someone so bookish could be a diehard fan of a flaky TV cop drama. “You actually like that show?”

Ness nodded enthusiastically. “I love it.” She put her hands up in front of her. “I know I know, it’s kind of lame, but I just find it fascinating. I hear they base the killers on real life psychopaths.”

“I think that fat lady cop is annoying, but the private eye hero is pretty cool, I guess.”

“I know. He’s so… dark. I wonder if he’s like that in real life.”

“Do you do that, too?” Jerry asked. “Whenever I see a show I like, I wonder how they’d act in person. I mean, I know Bruce Willis doesn’t kill terrorists for real, but I wonder if he really is tough and funny.”

“I love Bruce Willis. I’ve seen the
Die Hard
movies a billion times.”

“Or Sigourney Weaver.”

“Aliens!” Nessie squealed. “That scene where she has Newt and they walk into the queen alien’s nest, surrounded by hatching eggs. I could never be that brave.”

“But here you are, surrounded by monsters. That’s pretty brave.”

Nessie blushed. “It’s not the same.”

“It’s not the same because that was a movie, and you’re really here. Seriously, how would your friends freak out if they knew you were giving chew toys to a giant wolf?”

Nessie’s smile fell away, and she looked at her clipboard. “I, uh, am going to go watch my show now.”

“Maybe I’ll give the show another chance,” said Jerry, feeling his mouth go dry but not knowing why. He also needed to go to the toilet real bad all of a sudden.

Nessie didn’t say anything.

Tell her you want to come with.

Come on, chicken. Tell her!

“Mind if I, um, tag along, watch it with you?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. There’s a TV in the library. It’s at the end of this floor. It’s pretty cool, if you’re into that kind of thing. Lots and lots of old, rare books.”

“Sounds neat.”

Neat? Lame! What am I, eight years old?

Nessie smiled. “Yeah, it’s actually super neat. Come on. I’ll lead the way.”

“What about co-existing peacefully?” Andy asked the demon.

For more than twenty minutes, he and Sun had been trying to get through Bub’s surface malevolence, only to realize how deep the evil actually was.

“
Nooooooo peeeeeace.”

“You have the ability to heal, to resurrect. You could save millions.”

“Humans are vermin. Doooooo you invite roaches to dine at yooooour taaaaable? Or doooo yoooooooooooou squaaaaaash them?”

Perturbed, Andy said, “Our species could learn from each other.”

“Your speeeeeeecies will be myyyyyyyy slaves.”

“So you say. But I can’t help but notice that you’re the one locked up.”

“Foooooooor noooooooowwwww.”

“You’re really hung up on this evil trip, aren’t you, Bub?” Sun asked.

“Eeeevil issssss subjective. There are twoooo opposing forcesssssss. Order and disorder. Both require enerrrrrgy.”

“So you’re disorder?”

“I am become death, the destroyer of wooorrrrrrrlds.”

Andy recognized the odd-sounding quote. It was last said famously by Robert Oppenheimer, after creating the atomic bomb, quoting the Bhagavad Gita.

“But you can also create,” Sun said, “and give life. They say a cheetah can’t change its spots, but you literally can. Why the fatalism?”

Bub’s body began to twist and contort, and he abruptly turned himself inside out in a spectacle of splitting skin and cracking bone and churning organs, blood and tissue exploding out in all directions. Then his body began to reassemble itself into something human.

Something human, and recognizable.

Bub had transformed himself into their friend, Dr. Frank Belgium.

“Frank?” Sun asked.

Frank blinked. He was nude, a thin sheen of blood covering him. “Andy?” he said. “Sun? Is is is that really you?”

“It’s not Frank,” Andy said, backing away. “It’s a trick. Bub can change into things, remember?”

Frank put a bloody palm on the glass. “Sun, you know it’s me? Right? We we we worked together a long time.”

It looked and sounded exactly like Frank. It even copied his strange speech patterns. Andy’s heart rate doubled, and he felt as if he’d been slapped.

“Why am I I I locked up?” Frank said. “And and and naked?”