Vigo's Lament: A Dystopian Thriller (Age of End Book 3) (9 page)

“You ain’t going nowhere,” the biggest of the bunch said. They starting closing in, forcing Vince and the others to group together. “Nice scarves you got there.” He pointed to Izzy. “It looks like you’re missing yours. What a shame.” He yanked the scarf from Vince’s face. “Oh look who it is. The infamous Vincent Vigo. I would really enjoy killing you. You’re lucky he wants you alive.” He charged in and punched Vince right in the nose. Vince’s eyes rolled back as he fell unconscious.

FOURTEEN

ELLA WAS BLINDED by the glaring light that was hanging from the ceiling. It swung back and forth in a rhythmic pattern. The screech of a chain pierced her ears with each swing. She tried to shade her eyes, but her arms were stuck. She turned her head to see a group of guards holding her wrists to the table she lay on. They were all dressed from head to toe in combat gear. A thick vest, rough gloves, and shiny helmet. She opened her mouth to yell, but nothing came out.

A large figure, the silhouette of a man, hovered over her head, blocking the light. His face was hidden behind a surgical mask. His breath was loud and in sync with the swinging chain.

He held up a scalpel, its metal edge glistening in the artificial light. “Don’t worry young girl.” His voice was deep and muffled. “You won’t feel a thing. You’re fast asleep.”

Ella tried to tell him that she was not asleep, but still, her voice would not work. She heard her heart thumping in her chest, again, to the rhythm of the chain. As the man’s hand moved closer, she saw the sharp edges of the blade. She pulled and pushed her arms, struggling to break free, but the grip on her wrists was too tight. The scalpel plunged below her vision, towards her stomach. She shut her eyes, anticipating the feel of cold metal on her bare skin, waiting for the blade to slice through her belly like butter.

She waited, but nothing came. She opened her eyes to see the man was gone. The rhythmic screech of the chain had stopped, and the swinging light had disappeared. Her arms were free from restraint. There were no more guards in the room. No one in the room at all. Just her. She sat up and looked around.

The room was empty and well-lit with ceiling and floor lights. There was only the table she sat on and a desk in the far corner. A mug sat at the center of the desk. She hopped off the table, touching her bare feet to the cold tile, and walked to the desk. The mug held a steaming liquid. She leaned in and inhaled the scent of fresh tea.

A thump came from across the room. She twisted around, waiting to see if it would happen again. Thump. It came from behind the door in the opposite corner. It was a sliding door, like the ones from the Spire. She approached it with caution, keeping an eye on the flashing button to the left. Thump. Thump. It was the sound of someone pounding on the metal from the other side.

She opened her mouth and found that she was now able to speak. “Hello? Who’s there?” She crept even closer and pressed her palm against the door.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She moved to the left and pressed the flashing button. Nothing happened. She pressed it again, and this time held it down. Still nothing. She pressed it a few more time, and gave up, stepping back to examine the door from a distance.

The thumping grew louder and more rapid. The distressed sound of clawing joined in. She watched the door, both confused and scared of whatever was on the other side. Why did they so desperately want to get in? Thump. Thump. Thump. The rapid frequency reached an intense peak and then fell silent.

She tilted her head, hesitant to do anything at all. She lifted her foot and stepped forward.

The door slid open, and a body shot out towards her, slamming her in the face.

Ella sprung out of her bed in a cold sweat. Her breath was short, and her head was spinning. She was not in the Spire. There were no soldiers. No man with a surgical mask. No thumping. She was safe and sound in her own cabin, stowed away from any danger. An unpleasant feeling dropped to her stomach. She sensed that Vince, Alan, and Charlotte were in great peril. Something had gone horribly wrong.

FIFTEEN

VINCE’S EYES SPRUNG open at the sound of a loud clang. He jolted up in confusion, disoriented by the blinding light through the bars. His eyes adjusted as another loud clang echoed off the walls. He sat up and turned towards the cell next to his. “That won’t do any good, Alan. Those bars are thick.”

“What else am I going to do?” Alan asked, leaning back and slamming his heel into the steel bars.”

“You’re wasting your energy.”

Alan ignored him and continued to kick. “I can’t believe we’re back in Greene’s goddamn cell room.”

“It’s Simon’s cell room now,” Charlotte said from the cell over. “I don’t know why he’s keeping us here, though. Why didn’t he just kill us?”

“Because that’s the kind of sicko he is,” Alan said, finally giving up on the bars and falling back to lean against the concrete wall. “He enjoys watching us squirm.”

“He knows we’re here to kill him,” Vince said. “Is he really that confident?”

“That’s what taking down an empire does to you. It explodes your ego.”

“Where’s the girl?” Vince asked. “Is she okay?”

“She’s not in here with us,” Charlotte answered. “And if she is, she’s not responding.” She cleared her throat. “Izzy! Are you there?”

They waited, but there was no response.

“They must have taken her,” Vince said.

“But why take her and leave us?”

Alan sighed. “I don’t suppose we’re going to make sense of this anytime soon. Can we just focus on getting out of here? Then we can go searching for the girl.”

“Right,” Charlotte agreed.

“Check your pockets,” Vince said. “They must have searched us, but maybe they missed something.”

They patted down their clothes. “Nope,” Alan said. “I got nothing.”

“Me too,” Charlotte said.

Vince patted down as well. His fingers ran around his belt. There was nothing there. He felt pants pockets. Also nothing. He felt through his cloak. There was something in his side pocket. “Wait a minute,” he said, holding it up between his thumb and index finger. It was a small capsule. “It’s the poison capsule.”

“From the stealth mission?” Alan asked.

“Yes.”

“Why are you carrying that around?”

“I forgot a had it. I don’t suppose it will help us get out of these cells.” He slipped it back into his pocket. “You were locked in here before. Did you learn anything about these cells?”

“Not really,” Alan said. “We didn’t have to. You came to the rescue with Humphrey.”

Vince glanced at the railing where Humphrey had tumbled over. “Humphrey can’t rescue us this time.”

Charlotte pointed to the kiosk across the catwalk. “We can use those stations to call Greene’s workers. That doesn’t do us any good now, though.”

“Do they still work?” Vince asked.

“Why does it matter?” Alan said. “It’s not like we can reach it, and even if we could, there’s no one to call.”

“I’m just gathering all of the information we have. You never know what will be useful.”

“It should still be functional as long as the power is still on,” Charlotte said, “which seems to be the case. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to lock us…” She trailed off and moved closer to the bars to see the kiosk. She pointed to the bottom panel. “That’s strange. That light should be on.” She looked down to examine the lock on the door. She wiggled the latch with her hand. It was suspiciously loose. She backed away, leaned against the wall for balance, and kicked her weight into the latch. The door popped open. “I’m out.”

Alan glanced at her as she walked by. “How in the world did you do that?”

She approached the kiosk and tapped the screen. Nothing happened. “The power is off. At least on this level. The locks don’t work properly when the power is off. Simon must have shut it off when he freed everyone, and never bothered to turn it back on.”

Vince kicked the latch, and his door swung open as well. Alan looked at him, both surprised and annoyed. “That’s what I was doing, and you told me to stop.”

“You must have been kicking too softly,” Vince said blandly.

“Hey, I take offense to that. I can kick just as hard as either of you.”

“You were kicking in the wrong spot,” Charlotte said. She tapped her finger against the metal latch. “This is the weak spot.”

Alan assumed his kicking stance and slammed his boot into the latch. The door swung open just like the others. “See,” he said with a goofy smile. “I kick just as hard.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Vince said.

Alan’s eyes widened. “Woah, is that sarcasm coming from Vince?” He patted his back. “Would you look at that. He’s coming out of his shell.”

Vince did not respond.

“So Simon just forgot to lock us in,” Alan exclaimed. “We are damn lucky.”

“Let’s hope that luck keeps up,” Charlotte said. “Now that we’re out, we need to find Izzy. Our best bet is the top floor, in Greene’s office. He’s probably up there, and if not, we can use Greene’s system to pinpoint recent activity in the Spire.”

Alan clapped his hands. “Let’s go!” He took a step and hit his foot on the railing. “Ow! It’s so dark down here. You don’t have one of those portable glowing light doodads, do you?”

Charlotte shook her head. “They took mine away when Greene locked me up.”

They took a few deliberate steps, carefully watching their feet. Their bags sat in the cell next to Charlotte’s. Alan trotted over to find his. “Wow, he really didn’t try to hide our stuff. It’s all just lying right here.”

“He’s getting sloppy,” Charlotte said. “I expected him to be smarter than this. These are silly mistakes. Things that a rookie would do.”

Alan strapped his bag over his shoulder. “Hey, I’m not complaining. It just makes things easier for us.” He pulled out his rifle and examined its condition. “He even left our guns. How considerate.”

They gathered their things and headed for the stairs, wading through the darkness of the lower cells. As they ascended the stairs, towards the glass ceiling, the sunlight grew brighter. They passed by numerous empty cells.

“It’s crazy,” Alan said. “Every single one of these was full just a few weeks ago. Now they’re completely abandoned.”

Vince studied the cells. Some were stained with urine. “They were not well taken care of down here.”

“I knew it was bad,” Charlotte said, “but not this bad. I had never seen the cells myself. I just heard rumors.”

“Where do you think they all went?” Vince asked. “The prisoners, I mean.”

“Into the streets,” Alan answered. “Where else would they go?”

“I know,” Vince said, “but where on the streets? They don’t have homes, do they?”

“Some do,” Charlotte said. “The newer prisoners likely have families, but the rest of them have been locked up for most of their life. I doubt they’ll survive on the streets. They have no money. No shelter. No one to look after them. They’ve been dependent on Greene for so long. They probably can’t take care of themselves anymore.”

They reached the upper levels. Sunlight poured down the center shaft of the room.

“That’s a side effect Simon didn’t consider,” Alan said. “He was all gung-ho for freedom, but some people can’t survive in a free world.”

“He claims to fight for freedom,” Charlotte said, “but didn’t much care for the freedom of the people who worked here. Many of them weren’t strong supporters of Greene. They were just doing their job. Supporting their families.”

“We’ve said it before,” Vince said. “Simon has a twisted sense of justice. That’s why we have to stop him.”

They reached as high as the stair would go. Level 149.

“There’s a separate staircase to the top,” Charlotte said. “Or we can take the elevator if it’s working.” They stood by the familiar security door that kept unauthorized people from getting in and out of the cell room. It was wide open. “It looks like Simon left this door open too.”

They left the cell room and entered the maze of hallways. Charlotte knew every twist and turn. Vince and Alan followed her lead. Along the way they encountered three guards, each patrolling a long sweep of the labs. They stayed low, waiting for the right opportunity, and snuck by. She led them out of the restricted zone, and back to the main corridor.

As they walked towards the elevators, they witnessed the wreckage from the day of the attack. Flickering lights. Gun Powder. Debris. Bloodied walls. The incessant buzz of flies congregating around the decaying bodies and the putrid smell. The pungent stench made Alan gag.

“Are you okay?” Vince asked, his eyes watering from the harsh air.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Someone should really clean this up.”

“Who?” Charlotte asked. “Simon’s certainly not going to do it.”

Alan shrugged. He did not have an answer to the question. He just wanted someone to blame for the wretched smell.

They continued down the hall, holding their scarves over their mouths. It made little difference, but it was better than nothing. They walked past their room, where they had slept for several weeks. Aside from the corpse by the doorway, the room remained largely untouched.

“Man,” Alan said. “Those beds were comfortable, but I don’t think I could have stood one more night in this place. Everything was so clean. It was
too
clean.”

“It’s not anymore,” Vince said.

They moved on and came to the briefing room. Alan wandered inside. “Ah, more great memories of Greene telling us what to do. Good times.”

Charlotte poked her head through the doorway. “Enough messing around,” she said. “We need to find Izzy. We can’t afford to waste any more time.”

“Oh right. Sorry.” Alan popped out, and they continued towards the elevators.

They stepped through the sliding doors and Charlotte pressed
150
. “I’m surprised there are so few Crowns here. I expected more.”

“The Spire is big,” Vince said. “Maybe he has them gathered in a different area.”

Charlotte stared up at the display above the door, waiting for the 149 to change to 150. “If he has them gathered anywhere, it’s probably in Greene’s office.”