The Zombie Room (17 page)

‘After seeing that girl in the club, the way she looked at me and not being able to help her, I’d rather come too,’ Mangle said.

‘What about you, Decker?’

‘Alright, let’s go. But you both owe me way big after getting messed up with all this shit. I’d have had a safer life if I’d gone into dealing drugs.’

The plan was for the doctor to drive his Aston Martin through the gates as they crouched down out of sight. They’d keep both front windows down so there’d be no evidence of the smashed passenger side, and the doctor could use the prang on the front of the car as an excuse for returning if the security guard mentioned it. Although they had no firearms, all three picked up sharp implements from around the garage that would act as makeshift weapons if necessary.

The doctor’s car was parked behind the trees where Decker had left it. They pulled the Volkswagen alongside and transferred over.

‘This screwdriver is up against the back of your seat,’ Decker warned after tunnelling through the padding, ‘and if you try to alert the guard, I promise you I’ll ram it into your spine.’

Benjamin nodded and swallowed, but said nothing. He looked pale and his hands shook slightly as they gripped the steering wheel.

The rain subsided as they drove the few miles to the clinic in silence. The doctor picked his ID card off the floor where it had fallen after the collision, and held it as he drove up to the scanner outside the gates.

‘Please present identification,’ a disinterested voice announced after a few moments. Benjamin held his card to the scanner and waited.

‘Hello, Dr Chu. I wasn’t expecting you back tonight.’

‘Hi, Tom, I forgot some files I need to look at over the weekend,’ he said, and smiled thinly. Decker pushed the screwdriver through the fabric and Benjamin could feel the steel tip pressing against his lower back.

‘OK, Dr Chu, you may proceed.’

Benjamin dropped the card onto his lap and drove through the gates. The gravel grumbled beneath the Aston Martin’s tyres as the doctor navigated the driveway, unfurling through a thick stand of pine trees. The road was unlit; the only illumination came from the one remaining headlight on the Aston Martin.
Benjamin kept the car at a sedate speed and after several moments the clinic came into view.

‘Where do you normally park?’ Tazeem asked, peering above the dashboard.

‘Over there,’ Benjamin said, indicating an empty patch of gravel 50 yards from the main entrance, with room to park around a dozen cars.

Tazeem scanned the area. A security camera protruded from the second storey on a metal arm, perusing its automated arc.

‘Park under the camera,’ he instructed.

Benjamin pulled up where he was told and killed the engine.

‘Will we pass by anyone on the way to the office?’

‘No. The guard’s station is on the south side of the building next to the girls’ living quarters. The offices are in the other direction.’

‘What about cameras?’ Decker asked. ‘There’s one on the main door. That’s the only door that can be opened from outside.’

‘How are we to get past without the guard seeing us then?’ Mangle asked.

‘You’ll have to find something for him to do that will distract him for a few minutes. Just enough time to get us through.’

‘Well?’ Decker said, leaning forward towards the doctor. ‘Think quick.’ And again he pressed the sharp point of the screwdriver into his back.

‘Alright … we have had some issues with one of the girls. She’s in one of the isolation units. I could ask him to make an extra trip down there.’

‘Isolation unit? Jesus, it’s worse than prison,’ Decker said.

‘Is that anywhere near the offices?’ Tazeem asked.

‘No, it’s close to the guard’s station so he would only be away a few minutes.’

‘OK, do it,’ Tazeem ordered, and handed back the doctor’s phone.

He watched carefully as Benjamin scrolled through the phone’s contact list and highlighted ‘Clinic Security’.

‘Tom?’ Benjamin said into the phone after it rang a few times. ‘Could you go and check on the girl we have in L2? … That’s great, but if you’d just have another look I’d feel a lot better … No, just call if there are any problems. I’ll be in and out in just a few minutes … OK, Tom, I’ll see you Monday.’

Tazeem took the phone back and counted to 60, which he hoped was long enough for the guard to have moved away from his post by the monitors.

‘OK, let’s go,’ he said, and got out of the car.

Benjamin, Mangle and Decker got out and followed him to the entrance. Benjamin tapped in the five-digit access code, a beep sounded, then a green light flashed announcing that the door was unlocked.

‘It’s along the hall to the right,’ Benjamin said, walking through the dimly lit reception area. He turned right and passed by six identical wooden doors before stopping outside the seventh. He reached into a pocket, withdrew a key ring and unlocked the door.

The room was dark. Mangle pressed the light switch and four fluorescent tubes flickered into life, casting the room in a cold blue glare. Filing cabinets were lined up along two of the walls, and the windows were obscured by closed venetian blinds.

The doctor handed the key ring to Tazeem.‘This key will unlock them,’ he said. ‘Take whatever information you want and then please leave.’

Tazeem unlocked the first cabinet and began flipping through the folders inside. ‘There must have been hundreds of girls through this place,’ he said, disbelievingly.

Decker stepped forward and pulled out a folder at random. A photo of a dispirited girl in her early twenties looked back at him when he opened it. Name: Alenka, and a reference number written in black marker.

‘What are these numbers for?’ he asked, flipping through the pages.

‘The girls are rated,’ the doctor said, taking a seat behind the desk.

‘Rated for what?’ Mangle asked.

‘Lots of things: receptiveness, obedience, ability.’

‘That’s disgusting.’

‘It’s just organisation. A way of finding which girls are better suited to which tasks.’

‘There’s no mention of her so far,’ Tazeem said and moved onto one of two remaining cabinets.

Mangle opened the last one. ‘What do you do to them to make them so subservient?’ he asked.

‘We work with what is known as the BITE method: “Behaviour, Information, Thought and Emotion”. A dependency is created by controlling stimulus through all channels. We strip away all distractions and begin their thought reform from scratch. The process can be both invigorating and rewarding for the patient.’

‘What do you mean by strip away?’

‘We take away their identity, their individuality. Keep a tight grip on information, no outside influences. Show them that independent thought is responsible for the bad situations they found themselves in, in the past; that by following the programme they are positively moving towards a new life for themselves and all the rewards that it can hold.’

‘You make it sound like a liberating experience,’ Mangle said bitterly as he continued flipping through countless profile folders. ‘These girls are sex slaves. Their lives are worthless after you’re done with them.’

‘The reconditioning helps them get past any moral or societal boundaries imposed upon them during their upbringing. Sure, some of the girls work in the sex trade for a while to pay for the treatment; this is a very expensive business. But afterwards, they move on to new lives and leave their past behind them.’

‘This guy’s insane. He’s trying to convince us this is a service they’re providing and not exploitation,’ Decker said, cracking his knuckles.

Tazeem closed the filing cabinet he’d been searching. ‘Mangle, have you found anything on Ermina?’

‘No,’ he said holding onto a folder and closing the last cabinet. ‘She isn’t in here, but I found the girl from the warehouse that we saw here and in Seven.’

Mangle turned to the doctor and started to say something but the words fell silently from his lips and he stood still. Tazeem and Decker whirled around to see what had startled him and saw Benjamin sitting back in a chair with a black pistol levelled at them.

‘I protested against a lot of the security measures, as I considered them ridiculously heavy-handed. Who’d have thought I would be the one to benefit from them? The security guard isn’t called Tom. “Tom” is the code word for entry under duress. The gun fixed to the underside of the desk another touch that came in rather handy.’

‘You son of a bitch, I’m just trying to save my cousin,’ Tazeem protested.

The door handle turned and a security guard stepped into the room, armed with a handgun of his own.

‘I made the call. They should be here within a half hour,’ he informed the doctor.

‘OK, great,’ Benjamin said. All trace of fear was gone, leaving only a look of irritation at the position he had been placed in. ‘Do you know how close you came to destroying everything I have worked for? If these files got out and compromised my research, the clinic would be finished. Put that folder down on the desk please,’ he said to Mangle.

‘No,’ Mangle said, looking from the doctor to the security guard, then back again.

The tension in the air heightened. Mangle looked worried and Decker took a step back towards the wall.

‘Take that file off him,’ Benjamin said to the guard.

The guard shuffled uncomfortably before stepping forward. He repeated the command to put down the file but Mangle remained defiant.

‘I have a gun on him, just walk over and take it,’ Benjamin said impatiently.

The guard took two more steps, past Decker and within a few feet of Mangle. This was clearly more than he had anticipated from the job and he looked as if he wished he were somewhere else.

‘Just take it, he isn’t armed!’ Benjamin shouted at the reluctant guard.

He looked nervously at the doctor and then as he stepped towards Mangle, Decker lunged forward and grabbed his gun arm. The guard threw himself back into Decker and they both fell heavily against the wall. Benjamin jumped to his feet, his arm outstretched, trying to get a clear shot at Decker. Decker struggled with the guard, both of them fighting for control of his weapon, the guard’s arm waving frantically in front of him.

The sound of the shot was impossibly loud in the small room. Mangle and Tazeem backed up, unsure which gun had been fired. Benjamin saw the large-calibre bullet hole in the plaster, mere inches from his head. He panicked and squeezed off three successive shots.

The guard looked blearily down at the scarlet bloodstains blooming on his chest. He appeared to think of something that he needed to say, but as his lips began to form the words his knees gave up the strain of supporting his ruined bulk. He collapsed to the floor, his throat issuing a final sound like a bubbling casserole.

Decker quickly patted himself for wounds, but two of the bullets had hit the guard and one the wall behind. Benjamin looked surprised by the result of his actions, but quickly regained his composure and raised the weapon again.

‘Enough of this shit,’ he cried at them. ‘All three of you back up against that wall.’

They obeyed, eager to avoid provoking him. The doctor stepped forward and retrieved the guard’s gun.

‘The others will be here soon, and I’m not taking any more chances. I’m locking you in here. And don’t bother thinking about going through the window. That glass is two inches thick.’

Benjamin reached behind him, turned the door handle and stepped through the door. There was a sudden blur of movement from the corridor as a pair of balled fists were brought down against the back of his neck. He gave a startled ‘Ohh’, as if somebody had highlighted a point in debate that he hadn’t considered.

Decker seized the opportunity, quickly strode forward and kicked the doctor in the side of the head. He picked up the pistol and shoved it into his waistband.

‘We have to get out of here now,’ the trembling voice of the woman in the beige jumpsuit said.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Mangle asked, struggling to accept their turn of fate.

‘I don’t know any more,’ she said. Her eyes were misty and seemed to focus on a point far behind them. ‘I just know I need to go.’

11

‘You said you don’t know who you are,’ Mangle spoke tentatively as he looked over his shoulder at the woman in the back seat.

They’d parked the Aston Martin under cover of the fir trees and climbed back into the Volkswagen and were waiting for whoever the guard had called to pass by on the road.

‘They call me Laura.’

‘But that’s not your real name?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t think so, I don’t know.’

Decker and Mangle exchanged a look. Tazeem shifted uncomfortably in the back seat.

‘Do you know how old you are?’ Tazeem asked. ‘Or how long you’ve been there for?’

Laura shook her head. She moved a hand up suddenly and touched the side of her neck. There was a noticeable tremor.

‘There are headlights coming on the road,’ Decker said. They fell silent and listened as two cars whispered past.

Mangle waited a few seconds before starting the engine. He backed out without turning on any lights and drove away.

When he felt they’d put enough distance between themselves and the clinic, he turned on the headlights and asked Laura,
‘How many girls have been through the clinic since you’ve been there?’

‘I don’t know the answers to any of your questions. That is how they control us. I remember what I had for breakfast this morning, and I’m sure I had breakfast yesterday, although I don’t know what. Before that I have no idea. I could have been here for three weeks or three years, I just don’t know.’ Her voice cracked as she succumbed to the tide of suppressed emotion, and she began to sob uncontrollably into trembling hands. ‘I just don’t know.’

Tazeem reached over and awkwardly tried to comfort her. One thing was clear: she’d been afforded a certain responsibility so she must have been there for quite a while.

Tazeem led the way into the bungalow and drew the curtains in every room. Laura sat in a straight-backed chair in a corner of the living-room, furthest away from the other seats and with the door in her field of vision. She pulled her feet up and hugged her arms around her shins. The trembling that had affected her hands had gotten worse and was now evident in her arms and legs.