Monday 8 August 2011

One short chapter

…Wake up…

…Jack…

…Come on dude, wake up seriously…

…They’re coming…


Jack slowly opened his eyes and could make out the silhouette of his buddy Sam in the dim light of the squat.  The dust he had taken earlier still hadn’t worn off. He was still high, but was coming down and he knew it was going to be a bad day.

“Who’s coming dude?” Jack asked irritably, “Why’d you wake me? I was having the best dust-out.”
Sam was clearly distressed, but through the haze of the drugs Jack hadn’t noticed.
“They dude! THEY!” Sam was pleading with Jack to understand. Jack, sat upright, rubbed his eyes and looked around the dingy room they were in.  The squat they had chosen this time. All of the windows were poorly boarded up and sunlight filtered in through the filthy, grime covered windows. What little sunlight did penetrate the room, did not illuminate a pretty picture. Jack and Sam were in one corner on an old, musty mattress that looked as though it had served as somebody’s death bed. Old newspapers, dead insects and rodents, broken glass and various other detritus supplied the remaining décor. Jack’s mind was fogged from the dust, but slowly the reality of what Sam was telling him started to creep in.

“OH FUCK! We have to get the fuck outta here dude. Like now!” Jack jumped up and started heading for the door. Sam followed,
“No shit! Why do you think I was trying to wake you up. I told you this place wasn’t safe anymore. I told you we should find somewhere new before you dusted-off, but you, you couldn’t wait you…you fucken junkie!”
“Hey fuck you! You wanted to do it just as much as I did, so don’t get all high and mighty on me now when everything has turned to shit!” Jack took a deep calming breath, wrestling with the dust for complete control of his mind.

“Look, we’ve come closer than this before. We just need to relax. If we panic we’re fucked”.
“Ok Jack, I trust you, but if I fucken die, everytime you dust-off I am going to be haunting you and you’ll never have a good high again”. Sam was half joking, but Jack knew the threat was serious.
“Ok, ok. Here”. Jack thrust something at Sam. It was small mechanical box, no bigger than a wallet. There was no display or interface except for a big red button and a smaller green one on the side. Protruding from the top was a coiled black wire with what looked like a large hypodermic needle attached to the end.

“You know what to do” Jack said as he pulled out his own box. “Go on plug it in”. Jack lifted up his shirt to reveal a small hole to the left of his belly-button. It looked red and inflamed. Jack forced the needle into the hole and held the box in his hand, his finger hovering over the green button. He waited for Sam to do the same.
“Hurry the fuck up. They’re coming. You know it doesn’t hurt. What’s the problem?”
“ I can’t fucken do it Jack, I hate it. Shoving dust up there is one thing but this…it’s weird and wrong”.
Jack spoke matter-of factly “Listen Sam, either you do it or you die what’s it gonna be?”
“You do it” Sam pleaded.
“I told you last time that it was the last time”
“PLEASE Jack!”
A crash from downstairs cause them both to look around.
“You don’t have much time Sam, it’s now or never”.
The sound of boots on the stairs and the muffled screams of other squatters filled the small room.
“This will be the last time I promise Jack. Please just do this for me, I don’t wanna die and I just can’t jack-out by myself”
“FINE! But this is seriously the last time”
There were voices coming from downstairs now, getting closer and louder.
“Alright men, we’re here to find these dirty dust-bunnies. No fuck-ups and no corpses, we need ‘em alive”.

Jack and Sam could hear the whine of the power-cuffs powering up.
“Give it to me!” Jack said as he grabbed the box out of Sam’s hands. “Turn around”
Sam lifted up her shirt and Jack plugged her in.

“Ready. We need to do this together”. Their fingers hovered over the green buttons.
The bootsteps, voices and power-cuffs were getting louder. The sounds had reached the door. Jack mimed three fingers. Three. Two. One. Jack and Sam hit the green buttons simultaneously. The small boxes started to vibrate and grew rapidly hotter, until they were almost too hot to hold. Sam had a pained look on her face as she struggled to keep hold of the box as it grew hotter and hotter in her hand. Jack grabbed Sam’s free hand and whispered something to her, she gave him a weak smile and steeled herself. They both knew that any second the Harvest soldiers would break the door down and come for them, they just needed a few more seconds. The heat from the boxes travelled up the coils, through the needles and into Jack and Sam’s bodies.
“Here we go again” Jack said through gritted teeth. The soldiers had started trying to break down the door. Again and again they bashed against it steadily weakening it.
“HOLD ON SAM! It’s happening!”. The heat from the boxes had now enveloped Sam and Jack’s entire bodies and was flowing through the whole of their beings and their joined hands. The soldiers finally broke down the door power-cuffs in hand.

“GRAB THEM! DON’T LET THEM JACK-OUT!” The lead soldier was determined not to let Sam and Jack slip away again. The soldiers readied their power-cuffs and took aim.
“NOW!” Jack shouted, and he and Sam hit their red buttons.
“NO!” screamed the lead soldier, as Jack and Sam appeared to vaporise in front of his very eyes.
“FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. SHIT!”, the soldier shouted as he tried to tear the room apart with his bare hands. “Let’s go”.

As the Harvest soldiers slowly filed out of the room, the lead soldier stayed behind for a few seconds and stared at the scorched floor where Sam and Jack had stood moments before. He turned with a snarl and followed his men into the stairwell.  Dozens of junkies hovered a few feet above the floor, ensnared in the field generated by the power-cuffs. A small amount of distortion appeared to shroud the captured junkies. What appeared to be a small bolt of lighting extended from the shroud and back into the power-cuffs held by several of the Harvest soldiers.
“Any of these pieces of shit dust-bunnies?!” asked the lead soldier.
“None sir, just a regular collection of junkies, a few crack heads, and even a few using Heroin. I didn’t even think that existed anymore?”
“It doesn’t matter what they were using, if it wasn’t dust I don’t care. Kill them all.”
“But sir..”

The lead soldier turned and glared at the man holding the power-cuffs who had questioned him. “Are you questioning my authority? Do you want me to take you to meet “our cousins”?
“No sir, no sir. I will comply with your orders sir. My apologies sir.”
“That’s what I thought. No get on with it. Oh and I know most of these pieces of shit have no feeling left since they dissolved their brains, but try and make it painful”.
The back-talking soldier gulped and croaked “Yes, sir”.
The lead soldier turned and headed down the stairs. As he opened the doors at the bottom he stepped out into the sunlight to the sound of screams from the dying junkies.
“What a day to be alive”. A chilling smile creeping across his face.

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