Holes in the Ground (42 page)

Kane grinned. He nodded as if he understood.

Then Kane struck Jerry in the side of his head with the butt of his gun.

Jerry’s legs folded and he collapsed onto his side, moaning and crying. His blurry gaze met Wolfie’s as the two of them lay on the cold ground, suffering and alone; far away from their homes.

Wolfie whimpered. His eyes focused intently on Jerry as his pink tongue lolled out between his jaws. Jerry reached out, managed to place a hand on Wolfie’s snout. There was a brief wag of the animal’s tail and Jerry felt a lick against his wrist.

Then Kane stood over the animal and fired another shot.

Jerry fought back tears as he watched Wolfie die.

Andy stood up at Sun’s bedside. “Was that a gunshot?”

Sun said nothing. She was sleeping.

There was another distant gunshot.

Andy sighed. “I really hate this place.”

He took off, heading out of the infirmary and into the conference room. Dr Gorman was standing around, looking irritated with her arms folded.

“What’s going on?” Andy asked her.

Gorman tutted and shook her head. “That young buffoon you brought along with you has just jeopardised the entire safety of the facility.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the fool opened up one the cells.” Her eyes narrowed. “With your wife’s access fob, no less.”

Andy didn’t understand. He needed to see for himself. He raced out of the conference room and into the cell block. What he saw didn’t alleviate his confusion, it added to it.

Something lay on the floor dead, bleeding and covered in thick matted fur. Jerry was on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back, Rimmer standing behind him with a pissed-off look on his face.

Kane was standing over the dead animal with a smoking revolver in his hand. The look on his face was almost trance like.

“What the hell is going on?”

Rimmer glanced up at Andy. “Stay there, Mr Dennison. You’re wayward companion has just screwed-up big time.”

Andy shook his head.

What the hell is going on?

Rimmer elaborated. “Kid opened up cell 5 and let the dog out.”

“The bastards killed him,” Jerry yelled. “They had no reason to. He was just chasing his ball. The…the
bastards.
”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.” Rimmer struck Jerry in the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. Jerry lurched forward and flopped onto his face with his hands behind his back.

Andy stepped forward. “Hey, you don’t hit someone in handcuffs.”

Rimmer pointed his gun at Andy.

Andy sneered. “What, you going to shoot me as well? For what?”

“For bringing this shit to my doorstep.”

“Put the gun down, Sergeant,” said Kane, walking over to join them. “Mr Dennison, I suggest you step very carefully. The boy you so vehemently vouched for has just released a subbasement 10 captive from its cell. If the situation had escalated further, we would all be encased in concrete right now.”

“He was only on subbasement 10 because you hated him, you Nazi fuck.” Jerry’s words were muffled by the concrete against his face.

Kane didn’t look away from Andy, but his words were addressed to Jerry. “Mr Preston, your recent actions qualify as a terrorist attack by a foreign national. Your actions could have seriously compromised this facility and its agenda. Therefore, Sergeant Rimmer is going to incarcerate you under the terms of
The Patriot Act of 2001
. You will remain in custody for whatever time I deem fit.”

Jerry spat out the side of his mouth. The saliva was mixed with blood. “Do what you gotta do, bitch.”

“You can’t be serious,” Andy said. “He’s not a terrorist. He’s just a kid.”

“A kid who just let a goddamn werewolf out of its cell,” said Rimmer, he grabbed the cuffs behind Jerry’s back and yanked the boy to his feet aggressively.

Jerry cried out in pain as he shoulders were yanked about in their sockets, but he wore a defiant mask on his face and even seemed to smirk. “It’s okay, Mr Dennison. These dickheads didn’t get enough muff when they were younger so they have to take it out on innocent people. You should feel sorry for them really; especially this brain-dead prick.” He nodded at Rimmer.

Rimmer punched Jerry in the stomach, making spit fly out of his mouth as he doubled over. “We can make this as easy or as hard as you like,
mate
.”

“Don’t hit him again,” said Andy.

“Or else what?”

“Or else you’ll see.”

Rimmer just smirked and dragged Jerry away, down the corridor in the direction of the elevator.

“Take him to my office,” Kane said. “I’ll deal with him later.”

“Roger that.”

Kane turned his attention back to Andy. “Now, Mr Dennison, the only question remaining is whether or not you had anything to do with this.” He produced one of the blue rubber fobs from his breast pocket. “This is, after all, your wife’s access fob, yes?”

Andy shrugged. “I didn’t even know that Jerry had taken it. My wife nearly died. I was by her side.”

Kane rolled his upper lip over his lower lip; nodded very slowly. “Perhaps you were. I hope for your sake I do not find out otherwise.”

“What are you going to do with Jerry?”

“Nothing that is any longer your concern. I made it very clear to you that I would not tolerate nonsense and that the boy was your responsibility. You have let yourself down, Mr Dennison. You gave me your word you would keep Mr Preston in line.”

Andy sighed. What could he say? Whatever madness may have overtaken Jerry, he had indeed released a dangerous animal from its cage.

“Just let the boy go. Send him home to face the music. There’s no need to come down so hard on him.”

Kane glanced at the dead animal on the ground. “I beg to differ. Now, if I were you, I would return to your wife. We will discuss this again at a later occasion. I’ll summon you.”

Andy crossed his arms. “Fine, but I’ll tell you right now that I am taking my wife and leaving. I can’t work with you people.”

Kane grinned like an alligator. “Return to your wife, Mr Dennison. I’ll decide later if you can leave or not.”

“We’re not your prisoners,” Andy spat.

“Mr Dennison, everything and everybody stuck down this hole is a prisoner, whether they realise it or not. And nobody leaves unless I say they can.”

Kane spun on his heel and walked away, just as two security guards approached carrying mops and buckets and an extra-large body bag fit for a werewolf.

Andy headed through the conference room and back into the infirmary. When he got there, there were a couple nurses milling about, and he asked them if his wife had woken while he’d been gone. He’d only been gone ten minutes but it felt like longer.

“We haven’t checked in on her,” said the nurse. “We thought you were still with her.”

Andy wasn’t happy to hear that, but he had left without informing anyone, so didn’t feel he had the ammunition to complain.

“Was that a couple of gunshots I heard?” asked the nurse.

Andy sighed. “Yes, but everything is under control.”

“Thank God for that.” The nurse smiled and went back to her duties.

Before Andy made it to Sun’s room, he bumped into Dr Chandelling.

“Ah, Mr Dennison. I was hoping to bump into you.”

“You were? Why?”

“I learned something about our Irish guest.”

“Lucas?”

Dr Chandelling nodded enthusiastically. “All of the previous tests I conducted were fruitless. Then I had the idea of running his face through the NSA and CIA databases. I figured if we can’t find out anything about his insides, we could see if there’s anything we can find about his outside—his identity. You see, I found that by cross-checking-”

Andy waved a hand. “Okay, okay. What is it you found?”

“Of course. I’ll get to the point.” Dr Chandelling mumbled something else before producing a small tablet from the large side pocket of his lab coat. “Here, take a look.”

Andy squinted at the shiny screen and saw a black and white photograph of a white man standing next to what seemed to be an African warlord.

“This is Lucas in Sierra Leone during operation Khukri in 2000. The man with him is Abdullah Gborie; one of the key members of the rebel RUF forces.” Chandelling swiped his finger on the tablet and changed the picture. “Here Lucas is again in 2007 with Atiyah Abd al-Rahman, second in command of Al-Qaeda. Here he is a third time during the Columbine shootings. You see, there, in the background.”

Lucas was indeed present in the background of the picture, nestled between a group of onlookers.

Andy shook his head. “I don’t understand. How could he have been present during so many awful situations? How could he know they were going to happen? Coincidence maybe?”

“I thought you might play Devil’s advocate, so…” Dr Chandelling typed something into his table before turning it back around so that Andy could see. “I thought I would show you this picture last.”

Andy’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. “Is that…is that Adolf Hitler?”

“Yes? And that’s Lucas standing right behind him. The CIA have never been able to identify the man in the picture before. He has remained a mystery.”

“And now we have him locked up down the hall.”

Chandelling nodded slowly. “There are two things to be gleaned from this. Number one is that Lucas has been present at several truly awful human events—genocides and mass murders. Number two; I will allow you to come to a conclusion on your own.”

Andy stared at the tablet for a few moments; looked at the spitting image of Lucas standing behind the
Fuehrer.
Then it came to him. “He hasn’t aged. He looks exactly the same in this photograph of World War Two as he does now.”

“Bingo! Absolutely fascinating, wouldn’t you agree?”

Andy rubbed at his eyes with his palms. He felt exhausted. “I need to speak with my wife,” he said. “I need to think this through.”

“Of course,” said Chandelling. “I hear young Nessie is in the library. I will join her there.”

Andy waved his hand. “I’ll see you there later, once I’ve spoken with Sun.”

But when Andy reached his wife’s room, Sun wasn’t there.

Lucas clung to the steel-mesh fence and watched as the batling unfurled its wings on the other side. It still had not yet fully recovered from its injuries, but had little ways to go until it was once again restored to full health.

And then the fun and games will no doubt begin.

Lucas sighed. His presence here had been of his choosing, but as time passed by he was growing apprehensive.

Just stuck here waiting for the trailers to end.

The batling opened its eyes and glanced around. When its baleful gaze fell upon Lucas; its eyes opened yet wider.

“Youuuuu!”

Lucas nodded. “Aye, ‘tis me.”

“It has been…an
age.”

Lucas folded his arms, pressed his forehead up against the steel mesh and sent a spark through it. “It has indeed been some time. Yet our re-acquaintance has come about far too quickly for my liking.”

The batling stretched out its wings, rolled its head on its shoulders with an audible
crack
, and then grinned wide. “I remember the first time that we met: Those glorious days in Gomorrah. You were magnificent. Your lust for agony, your thirst for human blood equal only to our own insatiable desires. You were the angel of death, while we were the bearers of destruction.” The batling’s eyes rolled back in its head and its tongue escaped its lips and tasted the air. “The despair that ran through the city at our hands was
orgasmic.
”

Lucas closed his eyes, not to reminisce but to forget—to force away the images that rushed through his mind like a blood-red waterfall. “I was a different man back then, old friend. I was ignorant to many things. Many things that are clear to me know.”

“What riddles do you speak of, light bearer?”

“I speak of beauty and strength. I speak of humanity and its ceaseless endeavour to find hope where there is only despair. I speak of Manchester United and Reality TV. It’s not so bad down here.”

The batling spat at the ground furiously. “You speak fallacy. You speak of weakness and disease. The human soul is a blight, and yet you speak soothingly of it?”

“I speak truthfully of it. Your hatred has blinded you.”

“I see all.”

Lucas laughed. “Didn’t see that bullet to the back of your skull so well, did you now?”

“Insolence.”

“I do not serve you, creature, so speak not to me of insolence.”

“You shall be among the bodies when this place turns to dust. Your remains will smoke for all eternity.”

Lucas grinned. “I’m not much of a smoker. Bad habit, you know?”

“Curse you.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m already cursed, but by one far greater than you.”

“You speak of God?” The batling snarled. “You speak of fairy tales. We are the only gods of this earth, and when we reform as one mighty being, the time of humanity will be over.”

Lucas pulled away from the fence and turned his back on his cellmate. “You underestimate humanity, as once did I.”

“I underestimate nothing. Humanity will fall; and you will watch like the impotent being that you are.”

Lucas nodded his head slowly. “We will see.”

“Yesss,” The batling hissed. “All will see as I bathe in the blood of the weak. It will begin soon. The pieces are in play.”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. He paid closer attention. “What pieces?”

“Pieces that are moving even now to our glorious will—pieces with a sole, glorious intention. You will be among the first to die.”

“Killing me isn’t going to be as easy as you think, but you’re welcome to try.”

“I will do more than try.”

“I expect you will.”

“You will not have long to wait.”

Lucas nodded. “As I fear.”

Jerry spat yet more blood from his mouth as the fascist asshole, Rimmer, shoved him down in a chair in Kane’s office. Kane entered the room immediately after and sat opposite him, behind a large cherry wood desk.