Endurance Page 8

  Miller got up and watched as Smith galloped after Tom.

  A black van approached Miller and stopped. The side door slid open. A muscular, ebony man stared at him. Miller hastily jumped into the van and it sped off with a sharp screech.

  I don’t know how long I can run. I’m not the fittest person. Should I hide out in a building? There must be an abandoned building nearby where I can hide out and plan my next move.

  As Tom reached the next street corner, he took a left under some trees. He entered another street, similar to the last; busy traffic, suited men running or cycling, the occasional tourist or foreign tourist observing, taking photos of the buildings. Tom didn’t pause; he kept running. He looked behind him. There is no sign of Smith or Miller.

  Tom continued to run in the boiling temperatures. His cheeks overheated and his whole body ached. His shirt was damp and it stuck to his skin. His mouth was dry, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He could no longer swallow. His breathing was wheezy.

  Come on. Get to a hideout.

  Tom was in an area of London he didn’t recognise. The graffiti was everywhere; sides of buildings, backs of signs, overhangs. The buildings were tinted with dark grime. Dust stained the windows. He looked down the empty street; tissues and plastic bags rolled across the road and gathered on steps of homes. Tom slowed the tempo of his run to a jog.

  As he continued to look at his surroundings, he heard a screeching noise, and an aggressive rev of an engine that started to gain on him. He looked round to see a black van speeding through the streets. It overtook him and skidded to a stop, the back swung around with the sliding door facing Tom. The door slid open and out stepped Smith with a bloody nose and shirt. He pulled out his gun and aimed at Tom, as did the other suited, ebony man.

  ‘Mr. Williams. Stay calm, put your hands up and turn around. If you make a move, we will shoot you,’ Smith said, taking cautious steps toward Tom. ‘This is Malcolm. He’s an agent like me, sent to look after you, he’s backup. He’s going to cuff you and you’re going to come in this van with us and go back to the home now okay?’

  Tom didn’t answer as he stared at Smith and Malcolm.

  Shit, what can I do now?

  Miller stepped out of the van and folded his arms.

  ‘What have you achieved here, Tom? We want to help you, you’re not well,’ Malcolm said cautiously.

  ‘I’m not ill.’

  Tom looked at Miller’s stubborn, wrinkled face as he frowned at Tom’s words. His eyes darkened.

  ‘Yes, Tom. You are ill.’ Miller said forcefully.

  Malcolm approached and lowered his gun.

  Fuck it. Run.

  Tom spotted an alleyway to his left, he sprinted toward it. Smith shot at Tom and continued to shoot at him as he ran.

  Tom reached the alleyway and sprinted through the steam and the rat infested dim path and ducked behind a large container. Smith and Malcolm shot the metal container. The bullets travelled through the bin and into the wall around Tom.

  They weren’t joking about real fucking bullets.

  ‘Tom, this is getting ridiculous now, you’ll get yourself killed. Just come out with your hands up.’ Miller shouted.

  Tom leaned against the bin, scrunched down as small as he could make himself. He looked for anywhere to go. If he attempted escape, he would be shot. Located to his left was a door.

  I could try to make that door. If it’s locked, I’m screwed. If it’s unlocked then maybe, just maybe I can hide out and take them out one by one.

  Tom launched himself off the bin and darted to the door. The gunshots rang through the alleyway and the bullets whistled past Tom, chipping the bricked walls and cracking empty beer bottles on the ground. As he reached the door he used his prosthetic leg to kick it open. The force the leg had was unreal. The door flew open and Tom entered the building. Smith and Malcolm chased after him into the dark.

  Tom began to run up countless flights of stairs, leading to rooms that all looked identical. The rooms were big, empty, dark, and smelled horribly dusty. The windows were covered in white plastic that eerily moved in the breeze that entered the cracked plastering.

  Tom walked across an open room and found a stairwell. The room had a gaping hole, with stairs leading up from the lower floor to the level he stood on. Tom held his breath as he leaned over to look through a gap between the stairs. He sees Smith and Malcolm, as they exchanged hand signals upon entering the building.

  Tom stayed on the level he was on and entered a room under construction. Tools and machines were scattered around the partially demolished room. He walked through the opening in the wall to his right. The next room had a hole in the wooden flooring the size of a beach ball. Tom peered down the hole.

  He saw Malcolm pass beneath him. As Malcolm disappeared into darkness, Tom sat on his backside and slid toward gap. He dangled his legs through it. Then he lowered himself into a sinister corridor. He tried to drop silently, but his left leg made a slight thump. Malcolm paused in his steps to listen. Tom carefully stepped to his left, deeper into the shadows, and leaned against the wall.

  Malcolm aimed his gun and walked in Tom’s direction. As he neared Tom, he slowed. He stopped almost directly in front of Tom. Tom could smell his perspiration and hear him breathing. The floorboards creaked as Malcolm shifted his weight and continued moving slowly forward.

  As he crept behind Tom, Tom crouched and leapt straight into Malcolm. Tom connected solidly with his waist and tackled him into the wall. They both fell through it. Malcolm shot wildly into the air.

  Malcolm lost grip of his gun; it slid across the floor.

  Tom straddled Malcolm’s chest and punched him once in the face. As he prepared to hit Malcolm again, Malcolm grabbed him and flipped him easily over his head. Tom landed awkwardly on his shoulder and stayed down. Malcolm strode over and whacked Tom solidly in the face. Tom tried to stand, but Malcolm kicked him in the side and again in the stomach. Tom winced in pain as he lay on the floor. His face rested on the dust carpeted floor; the breeze blew the dust so that it seemed to crawl. Tom watched the dust patterns creep away. His sight was blurred and his mind was blank.

  Malcolm picked up his gun. Facing Tom, he put the gun to his face and aimed.

  ‘Tom? Tom where are you? Agents, do not kill him!’ shouted Miller from somewhere inside the building.

  ‘I don’t give a shit what he wants. You’re scum for killing all those women and children,’ Malcolm said with a vengeance.

  Tom looked in Malcolm’s eyes. There was no fear in his eyes.

  Tom prepared to be shot. He shut his eyes; as he did, a gunshot went off.

  The gunshot echoed throughout the building. Smith paused as he realised the shot was on the floor below. He ran to the main stairs in the centre of the abandoned building and saw Miller running up the stairs, jumping two steps each stride.

  They entered the room that Tom and Malcolm were in. Someone was lying on the floor. Smith looked around the room while Miller rushed to the figure. Miller fell to his knees next to the body and struggled to turn it over. As he breathed heavily, he flipped the body, only to see Malcolm’s dead eyes staring at him. Tom was gone. ‘Mike, get out of here. I’ll sort this out.’ Smith told Miller.

  ‘Do not kill him. We need him.’

  Miller left the room and ran toward the stairs.

  Smith stood in the middle of the room, listening, but could hear nothing. Finally, he walked into the darkness.

  Miller rushed outside and jumped into the black van. He sat in the driver’s seat, pulled out his mobile phone. He reached across the passenger seat to the glove box. He dug around for a bit before pulling out a gun.

  Smith wandered stealthily in the darkness. He was shocked when some light was generated from one of the windows. Smith turned to his right to see the bag had been ripped off the window. Smith was startled by the reflection and shot without aiming. He heard something smash.

  Smith turned to see a figure running tow
ard him, wearing a black hooded jumper and trousers, wielding a metal bar.

  The person swung the bar at Smith’s head. He ducked beneath the bar and punched the attacker in the stomach. Smith heard a grunt, and kicked the metal bar from the person’s hands, followed by a quick succession of blows to the stomach.

  The figure collapsed to the floor, groaning. As Smith prepared to deliver a follow-up kick, he was hit forcefully on the back of his head. Smith was knocked senseless for a moment. He rolled over and saw Tom standing above him with the metal bar.

  ‘Have this you stupid…’ Tom was interrupted by the sound of gun shots.

  The bullets flew past him. He was so distracted; Smith was able to grab the metal bar.

  Tom vigorously attempted to shake Smith’s grip, but he forced Tom into a column in the middle of the room. Tom kneed Smith in the balls. Smith shrieked and threw the bar away and grabbed Tom around the throat. He choked Tom, trying his best to choke the very life out of him. Tom tried to shake off Smith’s hands and punched his solid stomach.

  ‘Fucking die.’ Smith spat at Tom.

  Tom was choking; he wheezed in small sips of air.

  Smith threw Tom aside as he heard the previous attacker’s steel toecap boots scratch the wooden floor. Smith jabbed at the attacker’s face; he missed, but the person kicked Smith in the thigh with the steel toe boots.

  He regained his balance and he and his attacker began to fight. Tom tried to stand to help his rescuer. The figure’s hood was thrown back, revealing a dark-skinned girl whose hair was tied up. Tom gasped in shock.

  Danni!

  Danni looked at Tom’s shocked expression. While distracted, she was hit on the side of her face. The skin on her face shook, ripples formed on her cheeks. She concentrated again on fighting Smith. They countered one another’s moves.

  Tom rolled forward and pushed himself off the ground. As he rose, a woman appeared from behind the pillar and pointed a gun in Tom’s face.

  ‘Stay here or I’ll shoot you.’

  Tom recognised the voice.

  ‘Lucy. Why are you doing this? Help me. Me, you and Danni can…’

  ‘Shut up right now. .’ Lucy shouted.

  A gunshot rang through the empty room. Tom’s eardrums vibrated. Tom rapidly turned to look at Danni and Smith. Danni was on the ground with Smith pointing a gun at her. His eye looked sheltered within his swollen face, but his self-righteous smirk still managed to show through all the blood.

  ‘That is enough. Enough damage has been caused here, Tom. Now come with me.’ Miller roared as he walked up to Tom, brandishing his gun threateningly.

  Tom was roughly grabbed from behind. His arms were held tightly, and he was kicked in the backs of his knees, forcing him to kneel down. He looked up to see the Smith’s stubbled chin. Miller stood in front of Tom and pulled out a syringe. He squirted some liquid out and then stuck it forcefully into Tom’s neck.

  Tom helplessly looked to Lucy; she leaned against the pillar with her arms folded, holding her sides. Tom fell onto his back and moved to lie on his side. He looked at Danni’s body.

  She can’t be dead, there’s no blood. I don’t think Smith shot her, Miller must have shot in the air.

  Tom’s thoughts came to an end as he fell asleep.

  Lucy dragged Danni’s body, while Smith carried Tom over his shoulder.

  14

  Tom awakened once again in the white room. As he opened his eyes, Miller and Smith stood at the end of his bed talking to each other under their breaths.

  Tom tried to move his hands to rub his heavy eyelids. As he did, his hands stayed tied to the metal bars on either side of his bed. He could see that his hands were tied with plastic cable ties to the bed.

  Miller and Smith’s heads turned simultaneously as they heard Tom’s bed scrape and shuffle.

  ‘You have done enough. Stay there and be quiet,’ Miller said.

  ‘We should have killed him,’ Smith said.

  ‘Where’s Danni?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Tom. You need to understand that you are not well. Neither is Danni. You need to stay away from her. Danni is here and she’s safe. She escaped from here and we had been looking for her for a while. So it’s good that she tried to help you escape, we were able to bring her here, as well as you.’ Miller leaned in as he spoke to Tom.

  ‘I’m not ill. You are lying to me, I don’t know what to believe anymore, I don’t believe I’m ill and I don’t believe Anna is still alive and I know I don’t have a child.’

  ‘So what do you believe then? That some flying objects tried to kill you? That you killed your father in a building full of his experiments? That all of London was destroyed?’

  Tom paused as he stared into Miller’s black eyes. His eyes seemed darker than usual and very bloodshot.

  ‘I believe that you are a sick man who’s ruined my life.’

  ‘Smith, could you leave the room please.’ Miller sternly said to Smith.

  Smith left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘Look Tom, I’m trying to help you and have been helping you for some time. I will give you an ultimatum here. I will let you go right now if you want to, but you’ll be killed. You need to realise you killed children and mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters. You will not be safe out there; and with your mind the way it is, you might cause damage to people. You do not realise, but you are mentally ill and you don’t know it.’ Miller reached for a pair of scissors as he continued to speak. ‘So I’ll let you free and let you decide, Tom.’

  He cut the cable tie on either wrist and began to walk away.

  ‘It’s your choice now. Do what you…’

  Miller’s voice became soft as he tried to continue speaking.

  Tom clenched Miller’s throat. He forced him against the wall and held him by his jacket.

  ‘Tell me the truth right now or I’ll kill you.’ Tom spat in Miller’s face as he spoke.

  ‘I am telling you Tom.’ Miller attempted to catch his breath and whispered quietly, ‘Please don’t do this.’

  Tom continued to squeeze Miller’s neck. He stared into Miller’s desperate and frightened eyes. His black eyes looked small, more bloodshot than usual. His face became pale and he drooped to the side. Tom let go and Miller thumped onto the ground. Tom looked down at Miller’s body. It looked shrivelled and bleak. He tucked his head into his arms protect it. Tom kicked him in the stomach. Miller groaned and wriggled around on the floor.

  Tom spotted Miller’s handgun strapped to his belt. He unclipped the gun and checked to see if it was loaded. It had a full round of real bullets.

  I’ve never held or shot a gun. It can’t be too hard to grasp.

  Tom walked to the door.

  He leaned on the door, the door groaned as it opened. Tom moved his head out of the room. He looked up and down the corridor. No one was in sight. He walked warily into the shadowy corridor; a light flickered to his left. It was so very dark in the other direction. He decided to go right; he walked down the corridor with his gun aimed in front of him. His finger was pressed tightly on the trigger.

  As Tom entered the darkness, he heard somebody behind him. He turned. There was no one in sight. He continued to walk down the dark corridor until he heard another sound behind him. He whirled about to see a woman standing in the corridor, blood dripping from her fingertips. Her black hair covered her face. Her arms hung down by her sides; her head tilted up, her neck popping repeatedly with each slight increment. Her hair dropped behind her face and into place to the sides of her head. It was Anna. Her eyes were almost non-existent now, just black slits. Her skin was dark and blotchy, her veins black and created a roadmap on her skin. Tom looked at her neck and saw bloody hand marks.

  He paused in disbelief. He closed his eyes and slowly opened them again.

  I’ve been thinking of her dead like this for a long time. They have been dreams. This is not one of my dreams. This is real.

  Tom continued to stare at Anna, u
ntil two men appeared from around the corner and grabbed her. She pushed them off violently and the two men struggled to control her. One grabbed her legs and the other grabbed her shoulders and they threw her roughly to the ground. One shocked her with a stun gun. Her body jolted three times before she finally became unconscious. They snatched her up and carried her away.

  Tom ran to the opposite end of the corridor and stood with his back to the wall. He leaned carefully around the corner to see where the men took Anna. As he snuck his peek, a bright light shone in his eyes. Tom quickly straightened up and held his gun, preparing to shoot. He looked again.

  He can see that at the end of the corridor was a glass door with a silver frame, leading to a room that shed a bright light. It appeared to be a laboratory.

  A man and a woman in white coats walked around the room.

  I recognise that woman from somewhere.

  Tom heard a door click open or shut, he looked back toward the direction of his hospital room; there was still no sign of Miller. Tom ran to the end of the corridor. He grasped the handle to the door of the lab, trying to keep himself in the shadows He turned the handle and walked into the room.

  As he entered, he saw TV screens in front of him and somebody slouched in a seat in front of the screens.