The Island (4 page)

THE SEED GROWS

NEW YORK CITY

FEBRUARY 20
th
2044

Chase had woken up early, and glanced out at the cold, bitter darkness as he pulled on his boots. His wife and daughter were still sleeping, for which he was grateful. The cough, the ever persistent cough, came and he was forced to press his mouth into the sleeve of his jacket until it had subsided so he didn’t wake them. When he moved his face, there was a bloody smear on the sleeve where his lips had been. He stared at it for a few seconds, heart thundering and trying to convince himself it was something other than the same cancer that had already devastated his family so badly.

His tired brain started to drag him down the path which he was desperate to avoid, and it took a huge effort to keep focussed on the job at hand. He peered out of the window. Dirty snow was piled on the edges of sidewalks, and a light drizzle fell onto the streets, which looked almost beautiful under the dim glow of streetlights. He took the tattered flyer for the job fair out of his pocket and looked at it, knowing it was legitimately the last chance. He had exhausted every other option, chased down every lead that was there and tried to force some that weren’t in the hunt for work, and all the while his daughter grew sicker as the cancer took a stronger hold on her fragile body. He turned away from the window, forcing himself not to think about such things. He needed to focus on getting a job, any job. A glance at his watch told him it was almost four thirty in the morning. Time to set off if he wanted to get close to the front of the line for when the fair opened at nine. He was sure that there would be others like him who were desperate for work no matter what it entailed, but he didn’t care about them. To him they were rivals, obstacles put in front of him with the sole purpose of stopping him providing for his family. He wouldn’t allow it even if it meant taking a position that pride would have previously stopped him from accepting. He crossed the room, then as quietly as he could, set out on what he was sure would be the most important day of his life.

TWO

There was already a good-sized crowd at the fair when he and his friend, Shawn, arrived. Like Chase, Shawn was down on his luck and out of work. The difference was that Shawn had no children, or family. Most of all Shawn didn’t have cancer. The temptation to resent his friend was strong in Chase, but he couldn’t bring himself to blame someone for not contracting a lethal disease. Either way, Shawn, like the other fifty or so that had already arrived early, was a rival. Shawn was slim, some might say skinny. His cheekbones were prominent and his eyes a pale grey. He had a fluff of patchy orange beard on his cheeks which, tie notwithstanding, made him look a little bit on the scruffy side. Chase scratched at his own clean, smooth cheeks and was glad his friend had either forgotten, or not bothered to shave.

“Damn cold today,” Shawn said, rubbing his hands together.

“What did you expect? It’s February.”

“No shit,” Shawn replied, his breath fogging in the chill air. “Even so, I’ll be glad when daylight comes.”

Chase nodded and looked around. Since they had arrived, more people had shown up, arriving in groups of twos and threes.

“So uh, how you have been getting on, you and the family, I mean?” Shawn asked, unable to make eye contact with his friend because he knew what the answer would be.

“We’re doing okay. You have to.”

On the lie scale, it was a whopper, but some bizarre macho pride wouldn’t allow him to admit to either weakness or failure in front of someone he considered, however bizarrely, his competition.

“You sure? If there’s anything I can do…”

Chase shook his head. They all said that. Asking if there was something they could do, or wishing they could help when they knew the inevitable truth that short of a miracle, there
was
no help.

“No, we’re fine. Elsie is strong.”

“I, uh, was wondering about you. I noticed that cough. Plus you lost weight.” Shawn stared at his shoes, then looked around at the growing crowd as the first hint of the coming day started to bleed into the horizon line.

“I’m not worried about me. Just my family, and don’t you go telling those employers in there I’m not well,” Chase snapped.

“Relax, I wouldn’t do that man, I’m just worried that’s all.”

“I know, I appreciate it. I’m sorry, Shawn. I didn’t mean to lose my cool. I’m just… It’s hard, you know?”

“I get it, I really do. Times are hard enough as is without a sick family to think about. Have you had that cough of yours checked out?”

Chase shook his head. “Can’t afford the doctor. Not with Elsie’s medical bills to pay. Besides, I’m pretty sure I know what it is.”

Shawn turned his face up to the sky and the hazy smog which hung in the fine drizzle which rather than fall, just seemed to hang. “It’s this damn pollution. Making people sick, giving them the cancer. It’s wrong. You should take the city to court.”

“As if I could afford it,” Chase grumbled. Despite his misgivings, it felt good to have it off his chest and share his secret with someone else. “Besides, nobody would listen to people like us. The city has already washed its hands of us. We’re on our own.”

“Yeah, well maybe we’ll find something in here. A little positivity goes a long way.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Chase muttered, declining to tell his friend that his positivity went the way of his pride around the same time he tried to buy the handgun.

They waited and made small talk as the light bled into the day and the crowds continued to gather around the entrance. By the time eight thirty rolled around, they were all tired and cranky. Chase’s cough had become progressively worse as the morning rolled on, earning him a few disapproving glances of the others who were waiting to get into the fair. He noticed as the crowds continued to gather, that his chances of finding work were dwindling with every new arrival. The unpaid medical bills, rent and bare food cupboards lingered in the back of his mind, and increased his determination to succeed. He was about to turn to Shawn and tell him how he wished they had brought coffee, when the big screen on the wall of the hall where the job’s fair was being held sprang into activity, the bass notes deep and powerful as a slick introduction for the Lomar Corporation began to play. Chase looked around. All the others screens on the buildings he could see were playing the same thing. It seemed that whatever was about to be shown was something Damien Lomar wanted everyone to see. Chase turned his attention back to the screen as the logo faded and the man himself appeared on screen. Tanned, good looking for his age. Expensive tailored suit cut perfectly, gold signet ring glittering on his little finger.

“Good morning, citizens,” his amplified voice said as the chatter died down and everyone tuned in to hear what he had to say. “The world has become a challenging place. We struggle against unemployment. Pollution is the highest it has ever been. Global warming has reached unstoppable levels. We struggle, and yet, the human spirit fights on.”

Chase glanced around at the other people who were watching, wondering if anyone else was seeing the irony of a multi billionaire saying ‘
we
’ when referring to problems he would never have to face or deal with. He turned his attention back to the screen as Lomar went on.

“Here at the Lomar Corporation, we have been searching for a way to help. To give the people back some hope. To give them a way to flee from the trappings of daily life. We also want to instil inspiration, and show that the bravery of the few can spur on the many to achieve great things. To this end, I present to you the return of The Island.”

The screen melted into a drone shot of The Island, the two-hundred-foot concrete wall looming ahead. People in the crowd began to chatter through either nerves or excitement as Lomar’s smooth voiceover accompanied the images on screen. “Who amongst you is willing to take the challenge? Who out there is willing to tread behind the walls of The Island and discover the secrets within? Who amongst you is prepared to risk your own mortality for the security of your friends and family?”

The image of The Island melted back to Lomar, who flashed his veneered smile into the camera. “I know what you’re asking. What could possibly make it worthwhile? Why would anyone want to take part? What’s in it for
you
?” He jabbed a finger at the screen as he said it.

“Go fuck yourself, Lomar,” someone muttered from the crowd, which got a few chuckles. Chase didn’t laugh. He was giving the screen his full attention and watched as the advertisement continued to play.

“A prize for something such as this is too weak a word. As most of you will know, The Island is a dangerous place. Nobody knows what lies behind its walls. That will all change. For the first time ever, the entire challenge will be televised live on the Lomar Network. You will see first hand why The Island is known as the most hostile, dangerous environment on earth, and why all who have tried to tame it have failed and paid for it with their lives.”

“Tell us about the prize, numb nuts,” another voice muttered. This time there was no laughter. Everyone was staring at the screen.

“For those brave enough to take the challenge, for those lucky enough to be accepted, the prize is literally anything you want. Be it money or possessions, we at the Lomar Corporation are willing to provide it. The question is, are you prepared to take the risk in order to make change? Applications are now being taken and spaces are limited. Visit the Lomar website or click through via your home touchscreens now for more information.”

The screen faded, and began to play another advertisement for some kind of soft drink. The crowds at the job fair had forgotten the cold, and were chatting about the new announcement.

“Fools game,” Shawn said, glaring at the screen. “I wouldn’t go near that if you paid me.”

You might if you had a sick family and no means to look after them
. Chase didn’t say it; instead he shifted his weight and put his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t tell me you’re considering it?” Shawn said.

“No, of course not. It’s insane. It’s just…a tempting idea that’s all.”

“Tempting or not, you won’t help your family by getting yourself killed for no reason. How will they cope then?”

“I know. I already told you, I’m not interested.”

Shawn nodded, buying the lie. “Alright, I’m glad we’re on the same page. Fucking Lomar. Did you see the look on his face? Arrogant piece of shit.”

Chase nodded, only half-listening. His mind was swimming, racing with thousands of thoughts which all seemed to be gravitating towards the same idea which turned in his brain like a tornado. Shawn wouldn’t understand. He didn’t know how desperate things had become. At the same time, he wasn’t convinced his wife would understand either, and unlike his friend, she would see right through any attempt to bullshit his way out of it if she knew the idea was in his head. He forced himself to stop thinking about it, and refocused his energy on the job fair. With luck, he could get something. He had to get something. Although he had said it before, this really was his last chance. Or, at least his last sane chance. Wishing he had never seen the advertisement for The Island, Chase turned back towards the hall and waited for the fair to open.

THE EIGHT

NEW YORK CITY

FEBRUARY 28th 2044

Chase walked through the city streets, the anger finally simmering down from the initial overwhelming boil. It was rare for him and Ashley to argue at all, even less for them to have such a monumental explosion like the one that had occurred earlier that morning. He expected it to be bad when he had shown her the application form for The Island and he had seen a side to her he had never seen before. She had screamed at him, telling him he didn’t care about them if he went through with it. How he wasn’t cut out to do something so brutal and barbaric, how he would die and leave the two of them behind. He wanted to argue that she was wrong, but the words she had said were ones he had stewed on himself since he had made the decision to apply. Ashley had argued with him that he should wait, and he might yet hear from one of the jobs he had applied for at the fair. He told her that wasn’t an option, that the number of applicants for The Island would likely be in the thousands and he had to ensure he was one of them. What he didn’t tell her was that his experience at the fair had only hit home how difficult it was going to be. He had walked from booth to booth, sure they could smell the desperation as he tried to sell himself to whatever job was being advertised, and glad that the little thing called pride was no longer a factor. For the most part, the employers looked through him, eyes glazed as they listened to him reel of his skills and abilities, close to almost begging for a job. The issue was, he wasn’t alone, and the employers knew they would be able to cherry pick those most suitable to work for them. Only The Island had seemed like a viable option. Somehow, deep down, he knew he could win it. He had an overwhelming belief that he loved his family so much that he would do anything to protect them.

Ashley didn’t seem to care. She was screaming and crying, cheeks flushed and her eyes raw. She told him she had looked into what happened before the last time they had tried to get the show off the ground, how nobody to date had survived long enough to get to the end and tell the story about what was in there. He knew all this of course. He had researched it, becoming obsessed with finding out everything he could about the mysterious island. He had asked her why she had so little faith in him, to which she replied it wasn’t a question of faith, but of stopping him from killing himself on live television. That one had hit home, and for a second, he almost considered forgetting the entire idea until he thought of the alternative, which was sitting and waiting until his daughter died.

Desperate, she had even turned on him, mentioning his own failing health. She asked how he expected to traverse The Island when the cancer was well on its way to ravaging his lungs. Again, he had no answer. Just that overwhelming self-belief that sat like a comforting ball of warmth in the pit of his stomach. He had grabbed her then by the arms, looking her in the eye and telling her he had to do it. There was no other choice. It was the first time he had admitted it, and it seemed to at least hit home. The way she had looked at him, like he was already lost to her, was one of the most painful things he had ever experienced. He knew she was just afraid and rightly so, and the things she was saying to him were born from frustration. He didn’t hold it against her, and hoped she knew. The change in her had been instant. It was as if she had been deflated. She had crumbled into his arms, head on his shoulder, whispering to him and begging him not to go through with it. He had let her for a while, feeling like absolute scum for keeping a certain coldness between them if only to make leaving her there easier. He had pulled away from her, holding her at arms distance. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do to reassure her, but no words would come. Instead, he had picked up the application form from the table and left without saying another word to her.             

TWO

He had walked towards the Lomar Corporation building, the imposing tower seeming to pull him towards it by means of some kind of invisible rope. He felt somehow detached from his own body. Now that he was alone, he didn’t feel the need to hide the bitter taste of fear in the back of his throat. He felt no shame in it, and although he had hope otherwise it didn’t fill him with the kind of hardnosed determination he had expected to feel. He anticipated crowds, people in their hundreds, maybe even their thousands, clamouring to hand in their application forms and take a chance on making a change for the better.

Instead, to his surprise, there were no crowds as he made his way closer to the building. No groups of excited people trying to beg their way into the contest. The building, if anything looked deserted. He frowned as he walked towards the entrance, glass doors sliding open to accommodate him. Even the reception was quiet, and he walked across the marble floor to the counter, glancing at the steel LOMAR logo on the wall behind the harsh faced receptionist.

“I, uh, I’m here about The Island,” he muttered. Still feeling detached, still able to feel that bitter taste in his mouth.

The receptionist, who had perfected the art of the snooty, down the glasses stare, glanced at him, then his application form. “Forty fourth floor. Elevator is at the end of the hall. Go right up.” With that, she turned her attention back to the well-thumbed romance paperback he had pulled her from and continued to go on as if he didn’t exist.

He looked around the cavernous reception, which, other than a janitor mopping the floor down the hall, was deserted. He walked towards the elevators, application form rolled up in one hand as the little voice in his head screamed at him to forget it and go home to his wife and family. He pushed the button by the steel doors, hoping he would get at least a few minutes to consider his options, but the doors opened immediately. He stepped inside, punching the number of the floor he wanted on the touchpad inlayed in the door, and waited as the reception was lost from view, and the journey to whatever awaited him on floor forty four began.

THREE

It took less than a minute for the doors to chime and open. A plush red carpet greeted him, immediately in front of which was another reception, this time manned by a slim man with a beak like nose. Unlike his sour-faced companion downstairs, he greeted Chase with a broad smile.

“Welcome to the Lomar Corporation. Are you here for The Island?”

He nodded. That bitter fear taste was growing stronger.

“Can I see your application form please?”

Chase looked at the form still clutched in his right hand. The persistent voice in his head reminded him that this was his last chance to change his mind and go home. Stubborn as ever, Chase ignored it and handed the paper over, feeling a sense of smug satisfaction that he had gone through with it. The receptionist looked over the form, keying in some details on his computer screen. He held out a small rectangular pad to Chase.

“Please place your palm on the scanner.”

“What for?” Chase asked, giving the square pad a mistrustful glance.

“Standard health check,” the receptionist fired back, flashing a polite smile. “Policy for all applicants.”

This was something he hadn’t anticipated. He had planned on there being no health checks of any kind, especially due to the nature of the programme. His health was bad, he knew he had cancer and suspected it wouldn’t be long before it finished him off. He stared at the pad, then at the receptionist.

“Problem?” the receptionist asked.

“No, no problem, I just didn’t expect this that’s all.”

“Nothing to worry about, sir, just standard procedure. Please place your palm on the scanner and hold it there.”

Chase did as he was told, hoping he might be able to talk his way into the show when his symptoms flagged. The pad beeped as he placed his palm on it, and a digital bar started to fill as it scanned him. As the progress bar crept towards the one hundred percent mark, the receptionist started to ask him some questions, marking on the answers on a yellow form.

“Full name?”

“Chase Riley.”

“Age?”

“Twenty eight.”

“Marital status?”

“Married.” The receptionist marked his answers on the sheet at the progress bar on the scanner moved past sixty percent.

“Any long term illnesses? Diabetes? Epilepsy?”

Chase shook his head. “No.”
Just the cancer, which you’re about to find out I’m riddled with
, he almost added, then decided to stay quiet and keep praying for his miracle.

The receptionist made another mark on the form just as the scanner pulsed as the bar reached one hundred percent.

“Thank you; you can remove your hand now.”

Chase did so, heart thundering as he waited for the bad news to be delivered and him to be sent home.

“Did you receive and agree to the waiver form freeing The Lomar Corporation and its employees from any responsibility, legal or moral for anything that may or may not happen during the course of the show should you be accepted as a participant?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you also agree that if selected, you will be taking part in the television show of your own free will and agree that The Lomar Corporation can use your name and likeness in any way they see fit including but not limited to any and all merchandising?”

“Yeah, it’s all there on the form,” Chase said, feeling like the whole thing was a waste of time now that they were due to find out about his cancer. As if in direct response, the receptionist frowned at something that popped up on his computer screen. He manipulated the keyboard, fingers dancing with lightning speed, then turned to Chase and smiled.

“Okay, please go on through the door to your right. You will be greeted inside.”

Surprised, Chase choked on his words. “Yeah. Uh, thanks.”

He did as he was told, struggling to grasp the reality of it all. He assumed he would be there just to drop off his form, not have medical exams and actually starting to go through the process. Suddenly, the advertisement for The Island which had been airing every hour every day seemed like a very real thing. He approached the door the receptionist had drawn his attention to, frosted glass with the Lomar logo cut out of it across the centre. It opened as he approached. Inside were bright, harsh white lights and cold steel appliances. Waiting there was a doctor, short and balding, eyes kind behind his thick-framed glasses.

“Mr. Riley, please come in,” the doctor said, motioning to a chair beside a recliner bed. Chase remained standing. “I’m fine, I’ll stand. What is this about?”

“I’m under the impression that you applied to take part in the show?”

“I did, but… I thought it was just dropping in my application form.”

“Please, don’t be alarmed. This is all a part of the application process. Please, take a seat.”

Chase sat, curious as well as confused. The doctor sat opposite him, and picked up the digital tablet from his desk, scrolling through. “It says here your health scan came up with some irregularities.”

Chase said nothing, averting his eyes and letting the doctor go on.

“In addition to slightly elevated blood pressure, we detected mid-to-late stage lung cancer. Terminal.”

“Terminal?” Chase repeated, not quite comprehending what the doctor was saying.

“Are you telling me you didn’t know?” the doctor asked, watching for a response.

“No, well, yes. I… had a suspicion. But I haven’t seen a doctor or anything about it.”

“I see. Your family medical records also show that your daughter is suffering the same illness. Life prognosis of less than three months without treatment.”

“What? I didn’t… nobody ever told us that. I mean, we knew she was sick, but…” He trailed off, trying to battle his emotions and keep them in check.

“No, I suspect nobody did. Usually it’s practice to hold such information back. In this instance, I feel it’s pertinent to discuss it, if only because you are suffering the same illness. A very unlucky turn of events Mr. Riley, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here. She needs medical help.”

“As do you.”

“I don’t care about me. I’m fit to take part if that’s what you brought me in here for. The cough I can handle. Don’t worry about it.” He knew how defensive he sounded, but that didn’t matter. He suspected that without the say so of this doctor, he would be going straight home.

“Your lung capacity is reduced by thirty nine percent. Not to mention the advance state of some of the tumours. I assume you have been bringing up blood when you cough?”

“Look,” Chase said, feeling yet another opportunity slip away from him. “I can do this. Please don’t stop me from trying. Just give me the chance.”

“I have no intention of stopping you, Mr. Riley. Frankly, it’s not my decision.”

“So why am I here?”

The doctor leaned back and smiled. “Nothing to worry about, just a standard assessment. All applicants have gone through the same process.”

“So what happens now?”

“Now, you go on to the next room.” The doctor motioned to another door beyond his office. Chase got up, keeping a wary eye on the doctor and moving towards the door. Like the others, it opened as he approached. Beyond was a corridor, at the end of which was another door. He walked towards it, pleased to be away from the harsh lights of the doctor’s office. He wasn’t sure what his cancer meant for his chances as far as The Island went, but he was still in the game, and that meant he still had a chance. He paused outside the door and took a deep breath, or at least, as deep a breath as he could manage with his mangled lungs. Composing himself for whatever came next, he pushed open the door and went inside.