The Stone Man - A Science Fiction Thriller (41 page)

“Not … normally … that hard,” he said, and looked us both up and down as he adjusted his feet.

“Knew … someone would be here eventually,” he said, nodding. “Knew this morning … when I turned on the television ... and saw that thing. I knew that’s what ... last few days had been down to. Was almost a relief … finally knowing what it had all been about.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but my voice was almost a whisper. “What
what
was about?”

“Winter, Pointer, what’s taking so long?” barked Straub’s voice over the headsets, jolting us. “He’s upright, we can see it, let’s go! What on earth are you stood there talking for, what are you saying? Hurry up!”

“We’re
coming
,” snapped Paul. “We’re on our way, he’s just getting his breath.”

Henry’s eyebrows raised on his shaking forehead.

“Can’t … talk to a superior officer that way, young man,” he said, sternly. “Show some … respect.”

“Sorry,” said Paul immediately, nodding and holding up his hands. “Sorry. Can, uh … can you walk?”

“I think … if you two chaps would … take my elbows,” he said, nodding and holding them out slightly, “I should be able to, if we take it … steady.” Paul and I exchanged a glance, and then awkwardly moved to either side of him. We were having a hard time standing up ourselves, but if this guy could get himself upright then we could help him walk.

We each took hold of his elbows, and felt the violent thrumming in his limbs. It felt like trying to comfort a scared animal. Henry’s body jolted again, and would have fallen had we not been there to hold him up, but this time there was no calming breath; he took a rapid series of gasping gulps of air, like someone who has jumped into unexpectedly cold water. These slowly ebbed, dying down in speed and volume, as he got himself under as much control as he could, calming back down to his previous level. All we could do was stand there and try not to panic. I had to ask the question, and hated myself completely for doing so.

“Ready?”

Henry closed his eyes tightly, and nodded. We began making tiny, shuffling, and painfully slow steps across the living room towards the front door.

“Don’t like to … cause such a scene,” he said, eyes still closed as we walked. He sounded angry, but not with us. “It started … a few days ago. Thought it was my mind … finally going on me, the silence since … Mildred … getting to me.”

“You felt scared, didn’t you?” asked Paul, quietly. “You knew that something bad was coming, something really bad.”

“Yes,” said Henry, voice trembling. “Thought about the doctor … thought he could give me something … to give me back … perspective … but then that would mean another step towards a home and … won’t do it …” I could hear Straub in the background, giving orders to the others and not talking directly to me, talking frantically about getting ready to depart, prepping separate air transport with guard for Target One and the civilian team. They were ready for us. For Henry.

“So … I decided I wouldn’t ... have it,” said Henry. “Decided to ride it out … even though I wanted to … get under the covers and hide … like a bloody Frenchman. But I wouldn’t do it. I refused to do it … and it got worse, and I still wouldn’t do it. I watched the television … I stood on the front porch … that was nearly too much, but ... made myself do it a few times … but I couldn’t eat, it wouldn’t stay down or … my mouth was too dry to chew and swallow … but I wouldn’t hide.” He opened his eyes, and looked into mine. The determination there was like iron. “I wouldn’t hide,” he repeated, and the sad pride in his expression made me believe him.

“And then … this morning,” he said, as we drew within several feet of the front door, “when I saw them … on the news … I knew.” His shivers rose slightly, and Paul and I stiffened, but they descended again before they could get any worse. “I knew I was … like the chap last time. They were here … for me. And … I was … good lord, I was more scared than ever. Scared out … of my mind.” His eyes screwed up again, and when he spoke it was a harsh, grating whisper, but his head stayed firmly up. “
I’m so scared now, gentlemen … and it is taking everything … I have not to scream. I want to collapse and curl … up.”
His eyes opened, and he looked back and forth between us as he talked, eyes wide and fierce now. “But … as God is my … witness … I will not. I will
not
.”

We knew he wouldn’t. We knew why he was shaking so violently, why his bones felt as if they were going to break under our hands due to the sheer tension in his arms. Henry had been managing, through sheer force of will, to stop himself from breaking down into a terrified, feral state, to avoid becoming a wreck in the way that Patrick had before him … but the effort it took, and the toll it still had to be taking on his elderly body, were impossible to imagine. Every calm and rational sentence he was producing was a Herculean task, but he kept talking, just as he kept walking towards the door and his own fate.

I see that walk at night now, in my dreams. I finally see Patrick now, too. Sometimes it’s me and Paul and Patrick and Henry, all in a line, all walking towards Henry’s front door, and we can’t stop.

But Henry is the only one with his head up.

“So … I thought that … it was a case of … whoever got here first,” said Henry, eyes fixed on the door now. “You or … them.”

“It’s us, Mr Williams,” said Paul, his own voice shaking now. “And we’ll make sure you’re …” Paul trailed off, realising the contradiction of his own sentence.

“Looked after, yes,” said Henry, finishing for him generously, but everyone in the room knew the truth. We were at the front door, and I saw myself reaching for the Yale lock. I caught Paul’s eyes; he didn’t know what to do either. I hesitated, my hand on the metal.

“Are you … all right?” I asked. It sounded pathetic, and it was. Of course he wasn’t all right. What I meant was
Are
you prepared
.

Henry closed his eyes again. He took a long time to answer, but then nodded, short and sharp. He lifted his chin, and breathed in hard through his nose. Then he opened his eyes.

“Mildred,” he said. There was another long pause. “Yes. Yes, I’m … I’m ready.” I looked at Paul again, who looked terrified.

“Civilian team coming out,” I said into the microphone, and popped the Yale lock.

“Roger that,” said Straub, the relief clear in her voice. “Be careful on the way out, Pointer, don’t blow it now.” Her businesslike manner disgusted me.

“Don’t worry, the gaps are … easier coming this way, it’s hard to explain,” I bullshitted, not caring. In that moment, I didn’t really give a fuck whether Straub believed us or not. Plus, it was mission accomplished, so what could she say? Once again, we had the lamb for the slaughter. Job done.

We opened the door to see a smaller vehicle positioned outside. It almost looked like the armoured trucks you see security firms using to pick up money from banks. I don’t know where it came from. It had an open door in the rear with a ramp leading up to it, and three or four armed soldiers surrounded the vehicle. A few feet back from the doorstep, three soldiers stood waiting to relieve us of our charge.

I heard Henry’s breathing quicken, and saw his chest begin to hitch and fall more dramatically. His panic didn’t continue to rise any more, however; the level that Henry was maintaining himself at had just risen, but he was still keeping it together.

“We’ll walk you all the way if you want,” said Paul, his voice shaking properly now, struggling to exercise any control of his own. “We can take you in.” Henry didn’t answer; he stared at the van with his terrified eyes as wide as dinner plates and his mouth slightly open. He managed a small nod. Paul passed it on to me, and I complied. We continued with our shuffling, tiny-step-walk away from the house, and that was when I caught the faces of the soldiers.

Of course,
I thought.
This is one of their own.

As we neared the three waiting soldiers—who hesitated slightly, I thought—Paul spoke to the nearest one.

“He’d like us to take him in,” said Paul, firmly. The soldier looked at him, then Henry, then myself, and finally turned to Straub, who was stood, I now saw, a few feet back from the waiting truck. Her face was ashen, to my shock, but she was still running the show, still the pro. She was on a mission. I looked for David; he was nowhere to be seen.

“Let them take him,” she said, her voice coming to me both through the air and my headset. It was quiet, but hurried. Even Straub hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t going to let it affect her mission in any way, I knew ... but she could afford to allow a veteran a simple request. “They know their job, it’s fine. Let them take him.”

Henry’s head turned, trembling but upright, to see where I was looking, and his eyes fell upon Straub. His right elbow began to raise out of my grip, until the fingers of his hand were touching his forehead. The street was completely silent.

Not breaking his gaze, Straub gently returned the salute. She then nodded solemnly, and looked at me, gesturing towards the truck. We walked up the ramp, leading Henry, to see padded bench seating inside, jutting out of similarly padded walls. I was glad to see that there were no restraints. At one end, a grille separated the cab from our compartment. Gently, we set Henry down on one of the benches, and as we did so the soldiers began to file in behind us, taking the remaining seats. I wondered if they would handcuff Henry for the journey. I wondered if they would give him something before the Stone Man took him. I decided that I would make sure of it; I decided that I would ask if he could be made to know nothing about it. I looked at Henry’s face as he was sitting there, eyes closed and trying to control his breathing, and wildly hoped that they wouldn’t be able to take him away early. I hoped that their theory was wrong, and that the real perimeters were already up, and they’d get him a mile or so down the road and have to bring him back. Then we’d have
time
. Then we’d at least have more of a chance to stop this terrible process. Somehow.

The engine started, and we had to go. We stood there dumbly, glancing at each other, until Straub’s voice sounded in our ears. She was all business again, not that she’d ever fully stopped being so.

“Time to go, gentlemen. We’re on the clock.”

Without thinking, I grabbed Henry’s hand and held it; he started slightly at my touch, but his eyes opened and he looked at me. Though his expression was terrified, to my amazement, he weakly patted my hand.

“Not your fault. Appreciate … respect,” he said, barely getting the words out, then released my hand. It was the last thing he said to us.

Paul had to pull me away, and out of the truck. We couldn’t see Henry as soldiers shut the door and the ramp retracted, and then the truck was heading away up the street. The soldiers were already running towards the APC, and Straub was ushering us back into the jeep.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but you need to get in the air,” she said, signalling the driver to start the engine. “I’m waiting here to hear if Mr Williams gets out of the immediate area. If he doesn’t, I’ll be taking care of things here, and someone else will be meeting you on the other end.”

“Will he be awake?” asked Paul, voicing the same thoughts that I’d been having. He spoke quietly but firmly. He wasn’t angry; he just wanted to know. “If he doesn’t end up like Patrick, if he gets through the barrier and is fine … will you sedate him? Does he have to be aware?” Straub shook her head at this, meeting his gaze and holding it.

“We plan to sedate all targets, at least to the point that they won’t be consciously aware,” she said. “It will make our job easier for us, and more humane for them. But ... gentlemen, all bets are off where Caementum is concerned, as you know. We don’t know how it works. We don’t know if it bypasses ...” She caught herself, and her expression hardened. “You’re leaving, and right now. If Mr Williams gets through, as I say, someone else will be taking over the delivery process and I’ll be joining you wherever you are in Birmingham.”

The jeep began a three-point turn. We were already off onto the next part of our world-altering adventure, but I wasn’t really aware of any of it. All I kept seeing was the same moment, over and over again, as Henry’s uniform came into view. He’d gotten
dressed
for it,
dressed
for it,
dressed
for it. I sat with my hands limp in my lap, the pull lessening with every second as Henry travelled away from us. My head rolled limply on my shoulders as the jeep turned. Straub was saying something again, stood in the street with her own ride waiting. She’d moved on already, completely, a model of compartmentalisation and efficiency.