Read Furnace 3 - Death Sentence Online

Authors: Alexander Gordon Smith

Furnace 3 - Death Sentence (19 page)

BOOK: Furnace 3 - Death Sentence
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The warden seemed to read my mind, and like so many times before I felt his eyes boring into mine, dirty fingers in my brain.

‘Alfred Furnace sends his regards,’ he said, his eyes so dark, his lips curling back so much, that his face became a skull. ‘Allow me to introduce you to the berserkers.’

There was another bone-shattering crunch from the shaft, powerful enough to rip a ragged gash down the
rock. The screen shattered, the warden’s grin splintered into a million shards of glass that sliced across the yard. The elevator doors ballooned outwards like they were made of rubber, a fountain of smoke and sparks concealing what lay beyond.

But past the haze, through the gap in the doors, I caught a glimpse of something surely too large, too fast to be alive, thrashing, pounding, howling.

Even though the screen had gone the speakers must have remained, because the warden’s voice called out to us like a phantom’s.

‘May God have mercy on your souls,’ it said. ‘Because I won’t.’

With a deafening crunch the yard went dark, the dull glow of the fire struggling to hold back the endless shadows. Then, with a burst of sparks, the bulbs of the blood watch came on, painting everything in thick red light. And over the sound of a thousand panicked screams came the warden’s insane, howling laughter – a chilling battle cry which unleashed hell and damned us all.

I barely had time to move as the creature forced its way out, smashing through the elevator doors with such strength that they were torn from the wall, spinning over the yard like blades. I ducked to avoid one, seeing it plough through the fire and cartwheel into a cluster of cells.

I didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what emerged from the guttering gloom inside the ruined elevator, but when a hellish bellow ripped through the hot air sheer terror wrenched my head round.

Even after everything I’d seen, all the horrors of Furnace Penitentiary, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

The creature was so big that it had to unfold itself from the giant lift car, its long limbs as black and hard as a beetle’s, its torso like an ancient tree gnarled and knotted by time. It seemed to wear a shroud of darkness, a cloud of poison that made my eyes sting just to look at it. But I couldn’t blink, couldn’t turn away, even when a vast maw opened in the stump of its head and it spewed that same awful shriek into the yard.

It wasn’t that which filled me with fear, though. It was the two slits of blazing silver light perched unevenly above the mouth, surveying the prison with a cold, calculating intelligence that I knew right then and there had once been human.

The creature stood, every fibre in its ravaged body seeming to expand until it was easily half again as tall as me. Its spidery arms flexed, too many joints making them look like they had been broken in a dozen places. But there was no denying the power of the creature as it slammed its fists down onto the floor, gouging two ravines in the stone.

Then, using all four limbs, it began to run, tearing across the yard as fast and hard as a freight train. It bowled into a group of screaming inmates without mercy, its claws like giant scythes which cut through flesh and bone as easily as they sliced through thin air. The carnage was so swift, so relentless, that it didn’t seem real, like I was watching a movie. Only when Simon ran over, grabbing my arm, did my brain snap out of its trance, the horror flooding back with such a sudden jolt of reality that my heart skipped a beat.

‘Let’s go,’ he yelled, dragging me after him. A kid in a Skull bandana slammed into us, reeling as he bolted towards the far side of the yard and the entrance to the trough room. Almost every single inmate was heading the same way, a stampede of flailing bodies and stamping legs. All eyes were on the beast behind us and the route ahead, until another choked growl broke free of the elevator.

‘Oh no,’ I said, the words not even a whisper, like they were afraid to leave my mouth. Against every instinct I looked over my shoulder to see a second impossible form crawl from a hole in the lift ceiling. This one was as soft as its brother was hard, its pale, pink flesh like porridge, hanging in bags over its squat body. But it moved with the same speed, exploding into the yard on four huge legs and running right for us.

‘You got a death wish?’ screamed Simon, fingers still wrapped around my overalls. ‘Come on!’

There was no way we could have outrun the creature, but luckily for us it was distracted. The three Skulls posted inside the vault door emerged, their faces dropping and their shotguns rising in unison. The first fired before he could even aim, the shot going wide and causing the beast to spin round, doubling back.

The Skull dropped his smoking weapon, retreating, but the other two fired together. The creature’s baggy flesh rippled with the force of the impact, a bubble of inky blood bursting on its flank, but the shots didn’t even slow it down. It barrelled into them, its mouth wide enough to engulf both boys. I turned away before I could see what happened, but it didn’t stop the sound of tearing meat from filling my head.

There was a bottleneck outside the trough room, inmates practically climbing over each other as they fought to get through the narrow opening. I risked another look back as we joined the crowd, seeing the first beast still cleaving through inmates on the far side of the yard, and the second running a coarse, fat tongue
across the wet floor, its corpulent body shuddering as if with delight.

‘Come on!’ shouted Simon, pushing through a cluster of smaller boys to try and get to the front. It was taking forever. There was no way we’d survive long enough if either of the beasts came our way.

‘Go up,’ I yelled, breaking off from Simon and making for the nearest staircase. The platforms above us were alive with movement, kids stumbling towards what they hoped was safety. We joined them, tearing up the metal steps as fast as we could until we’d reached the fourth level. From the narrow landing we had a bird’s-eye view of the nightmare below, the two creatures momentarily distracted from their prey by the fire still blazing in the middle of the yard.

‘What the hell are they?’ Simon whispered. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that down below. They look like …’

He faltered, unable to think of any comparisons. I couldn’t either.Yeah the warden had made me a blacksuit, and he’d turned other kids into freaks, but even Gary with his misshapen body and his bloodstained claws hadn’t looked anything like this.

‘Berserkers,’ I said, repeating the warden’s name for them.‘They belong to Alfred Furnace.’

‘How do you know that?’ Simon asked.

‘Gary,’ was my reply. ‘He’s becoming one too. The warden told me, showed me. He doesn’t know what they are, only what they are for. They’re killing machines, Furnace’s sick pets.’ I suddenly realised what I was saying,
why the beasts were here. ‘You heard his voice on the phone same as me. He sent them because of what we did. This is our fault, Simon.’

The insect-like beast had grown bored of the flames. On two legs now it bounded across the yard in long, loping strides that reminded me of the wheezers. At first I couldn’t make out where it was going, then I saw the two shapes huddled inside an open cell. The berserker uttered a high-pitched chirrup that sounded too much like laughter, grabbing the bars and wrenching them from the wall in a shower of rock and dust.

‘We have to do something,’ I said.

‘No way,’ said Simon, his voice laced with fear. ‘No way, man. We lay low, wait for … wait until …’

I watched his face fall as he realised there was no help coming. He’d heard the warden as clearly as I had. Everyone in Furnace was paying the price for our attempt at freedom. Those creatures had their orders. They wouldn’t leave until every last living thing in general population had stopped breathing, until we’d all been executed.

‘Alex,’ he said softly. ‘If you go down there then you’ll die. You’re strong, yeah, but those things …’ Events in the yard finished his sentence for him, the berserkers tormenting the inmates like cats playing with mice. I watched them for a while, the sight making my guts churn and my head pound, then looked back at Simon in time to see him toying with something in his pocket. He caught my eye, pulling his empty hand out and resting it on the railing.

‘What is that?’ I asked, remembering him stealing something from the warden’s quarters.‘A blade?’

He shook his head, then, realising that I wasn’t about to let it go, he slid the object from his overalls and held it up. Just seeing it seemed to make my blood boil, my body growing so hot that I had to check to make sure I wasn’t burning. It was as if the nectar inside me was calling out for what Simon held in his hand, screaming for it.

‘I didn’t know what was going to happen to you,’ he said, the dark syringe trembling in his unsteady grip, the flecks of golden light embedded inside seeming to spin like distant stars. ‘Like I said, Alex, sometimes if you get pulled off the nectar too quickly then your body just decomposes. Figured if we had some then … y’know.’

Below us another chilling shriek exploded out across the yard, trailed by a chorus of weak, human screams that set my teeth on edge. The last of the crowd was squeezing into the trough room, but not fast enough. The fat freak was shuffling towards them too quickly, its rolls of loose skin dancing in the firelight. I saw its mouth open, lipless and grotesque but nonetheless still smiling.

I knew what I had to do.

‘Give it to me,’ I said, holding my arm out. Simon hesitated, gripping the needle as if it was a poisonous snake.

‘If you take this then there’s no telling what will happen to you,’ he replied.‘Another dose of nectar and your body might not be able to find its way back. You might become a blacksuit for good.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘If I don’t take it then none of us are getting out of here.’

Simon flinched as another desperate wail drifted up from below, cut short by a gut-wrenching snap. Then he nodded, pulling the cap off the syringe and grabbing my wrist with his other hand. I drew up my sleeve, my mind too confused, too frightened to really make sense of what was going on. I knew this was a mistake – the warden’s poison would do all it could to pull me back, to make me once more a Soldier of Furnace. I may as well have been handing myself back to him on a silver platter.

I felt the sting of metal in my flesh, looked down to see my veins pulse black, a creeping darkness that flooded my blood with cold heat.

‘Just don’t forget your name,’ Simon said, waiting until the plunger was all the way down before sliding the needle free. ‘Alex Sawyer, don’t forget it. I’ll be here for you when you come back.’

He carried on, but I wasn’t listening. It was like I’d been thrown into a black lake, the world suddenly impossibly dark and quiet. All I could hear was my own breathing, and the thrashing beat of the nectar as it clawed its way through my system. My muscles tensed, my grip on the railing so tight that the metal buckled. But it wasn’t enough; when I glanced into the yard that spectre of fear still loomed at the back of my mind.

‘Slap me,’ I said to Simon. The boy looked like he had suddenly shrunk, and his expression was one of terror – like I was another of the beasts below. I repeated my request, this time in a guttural growl better suited to
some demon. Simon lifted his hand and brought his open palm hard across my cheek. The pain flared through me, carrying with it an anger so intense that it felt like my conscious mind was being buried in mud, locked away forever. I roared at the boy, raised my fist to return the blow, caught myself before it was too late. ‘Again!’

He lifted his trembling hand and slapped me with even more force, hard enough to rock me back on my heels. This time the nectar poured into my brain like molten lead, snuffing out everything except for my fury. I opened my mouth and howled, the sound carrying so much force that it even blotted out the symphony of death from below.

I went to lash out at the boy, to punish him for striking me, but he had vanished. Instead I cast my eyes into the yard, looking for victims, looking for anything to take my anger out on. The prisoners were there, fear making them pathetic, and it was all I could do not to throw myself at them, tear them limb from limb as a punishment for their weakness.

Something stopped me, a quiet whisper from a place deep inside my head. It forced my eyes away from the swarming inmates to the two beasts which stamped and slithered across the yard. Then, as if that voice had been holding the reins of my rage and had now let them go, I felt the nectar take control.

And with a roar that turned every single head in the prison, I leapt over the railing and threw myself into battle.

I was four floors up but I didn’t even feel the impact as I landed on the yard, a web of cracks spreading across the rock beneath my feet. I was moving again before I even knew it, tearing through the thick crimson light so fast that I could feel the wind on my face, thick and heavy with the scent of blood.

The fat berserker had reached the dwindling crowd outside the trough room, scattering the kids like bowling pins. For an instant I thought I’d have the element of surprise, the monster too busy wrapping its dripping fingers around writhing bodies to notice me. But some instinct must have warned it because when I was a stone’s throw away it suddenly swung round and reared.

Up close I saw the beast for what it was. Its body wasn’t fat, as I’d assumed, but instead packed so densely with muscle that the skin had been pushed out in loose, useless folds. It towered above me, its quivering flesh suddenly solidifying into what looked like a pillar of solid rock. The vast cavern of its mouth opened wide, that hideous parody of a grin again, and I could see
right down the red, raw gullet beyond. Perched above it like loose pebbles was a cluster of dark eyes, too many to count.

I didn’t give the fear a chance to creep in, just lowered my head and let my anger do my thinking. I was on the beast in a heartbeat, dodging its obelisk-like fist and slamming into its torso. It was like running into a wall, the sheer density of it knocking the air from my lungs. But it worked, catching the berserker off balance and sending us both rolling across the yard.

We slammed into the wall, the creature on top of me, pinning me down like roadkill beneath a truck wheel. It raised its arm, its knotted hand the size of an anvil, slamming it down towards my head. I bucked to try and dislodge it, lurching to the side and feeling the explosion as the impact left a crater in the stone millimetres from my ear.

It raised its arms again before I could even catch my breath, but I didn’t give it the chance to strike, ramming my fist into its throat, feeling the rigid cord of its windpipe lodged deep inside the muscle. I lashed out again, and again, each blow sending the creature reeling back until its bulk slipped off my legs. It staggered away, arms raised in defence, and I punched it hard in the gut only to feel a nerve-shredding blast of agony shoot up my wrist.

I pulled away, seeing the blood pour from between my knuckles. There was something lodged in the flesh, a long, twisted thorn that appeared to be made of bone. I stepped back, watching in horror as the creature’s skin
rippled, dozens of white spikes pushing outwards like hair. It shook itself like a wet dog, barbs sprouting from its shoulders and back, even the top of its head. Then, its tiny black eyes gleaming, it charged.

I ducked beneath its fist, splinters of rock detonating from the wall behind me, then made a break for the elevator. As I ran I noticed the first berserker, still feasting on something on the far side of the yard but gazing at me through slits of silver. It threw its meal to the floor and stretched up on its long legs, sniffing the air.

I didn’t wait to see what it would do next, skidding to a halt and scanning the wreckage of the lift doors until I found what I was looking for. I had barely managed to lift the pickaxe before the fat berserker had caught up, its lethal knuckles cleaving the air in front of my face.

With a roar of defiance I swung the pick, aiming for its legs – the only place not covered in barbs. The blade caught it above the knee, sliding into the muscular flesh with a wet pop. The beast’s entire body juddered, the vibration tearing the weapon from my fingers. It stumbled but didn’t fall, its eyes blinking out of turn as they studied the object embedded in its leg.

I was lifting another pickaxe from the rubble by my feet when the world suddenly came apart. It was as if a black hole had suddenly opened in the middle of the prison, causing everything to spin into a disjointed orbit. It was only when I hit the floor, tumbling across the rough rock, that I realised what had happened. The
beetle-black berserker had sped across the yard, striking me with enough force to send me flying.

I tried to get up, feeling something loose and broken inside me. Through my faltering vision I could make out the two freaks ploughing my way, cutting around either side of the bonfire before closing ranks.

Get up
, I screamed at myself, disgusted by my own weakness. The nectar burned within, patching up internal injuries that would otherwise have been fatal. It seemed to react to my call, releasing a burst of energy that pulled me from the floor like I had puppet strings.

I realised I still had the pick, and hurled it with every ounce of strength I possessed. It was a lucky shot, the hooked blade striking the taller berserker in its metallic black skull. There was a crack like a firework and the creature crumpled, doing a clumsy forward roll, thrashing its long limbs as it tried to dislodge the weapon.

The spiked one didn’t even slow down, careening across the stone so fast that its fleshy body was a pink blur. I looked around for something else to defend myself with but there was nothing, the yard almost completely deserted of people and objects.

I ran, the floor trembling beneath me as the berserker gained ground. There was nowhere to go but up, and with a grunt of effort I propelled myself towards the platform of the second level. The sheer power of the jump made my head spin, vertigo almost causing me to miss my target. But just as I felt gravity grip me I reached out and grabbed the railing, vaulting onto the landing.

A glance over my shoulder revealed the beast in mid-jump, its loose skin fluttering like bat wings. I crouched, then launched myself into the air, clutching the bottom of the third-level platform. Beneath me the berserker burst through the railing, the metal framework groaning with its weight. It came after me again, its spiked hands gouging chunks from the wall as it clawed its way up.

I swung myself up onto the landing, then legged it past a dozen empty cells until I reached the stairs. The berserker wasn’t giving up the chase, the platform bouncing like a funhouse walkway as it advanced. I leapt up a single flight in two bounds, spinning round and taking the next lot just as effortlessly. The creature’s bulk was giving it problems on the narrow stairways but it was winning the battle, its spikes shearing through the steel each time they made contact.

I kept running, rising, up past the fifth level, then the sixth, then the seventh. The nectar was like nitro, turning my heart and lungs and muscles into an engine that didn’t once protest, not even when I’d climbed to the twelfth level and run halfway down the landing. The air up here was stale, never used, the yard below as small as a playground. There was no sign of the inmates, but the other berserker was still down there, its gunmetal body more like a beetle than ever as it squirmed and thrashed in a growing puddle of dark blood.

There was a snarl from the stairwell, the bolts almost ripping from the walls as the fat freak pulled itself onto the landing. Keeping all four limbs on the floor it crashed
towards me, its gaping maw even darker than the blood-red shadows draped over the higher levels.

I searched the closest cell, not even a bunk to use as a weapon. Then I looked at the door, the steel bars, remembered the way the blacksuits used to bend them like they were rubber. I gripped the top of one and pulled hard, the metal squealing in protest. The berserker saw what I was doing and increased its speed, a tornado of pink muscle blasting right for me.

The door screeched but it was a cry of surrender, the metal bending down and out. I tugged, flexing the bar back and forth until it snapped loose from the frame. I held the two-metre length of solid steel like a baseball bat, standing my ground as the berserker hurtled down the platform.

When it was within reach I swung, aiming right for its head. The creature was quick, lifting a hand to protect itself, but the momentum of the bar was too great, the crack of a breaking bone reverberating out across the prison. It roared, spraying me with hot spittle, then lunged forward with its mouth open. I fell back, its jaws snapping shut around the bar and biting off the tip as though it was candy. Its other hand slammed down, hooked barbs ripping into my side.

Even with the nectar the pain flared, my vision turning white. I ignored it, ramming the bar into the back of its throat like I was skewering a fish. The berserker retreated, choking on blood, and I pulled the bar out, thrusting it forward again into its nest of black eyes.

It panicked, swaying clumsily away and swiping its
good arm blindly in front of it. Using the bar as a crutch, I hauled myself to my feet, then swung my makeshift club at its head. It hit with enough power to bend the metal, but the berserker still wouldn’t go down. Instead it flailed wildly, stamping its legs as it struggled to get away.

Something popped from the wall, the stone cracking and the platform lurching. I dropped the bar, grabbing the handrail and watching my weapon spiral gracefully down to the yard twelve storeys below. The berserker staggered, broke through the railing, then managed to grab the landing with a barbed fist, trying to haul itself back up.

Another bolt gave up under the pressure, tearing loose from the rock. Then the platform was falling, taking me and the berserker with it. My stomach flipped, my guts almost blasting from the top of my head as I watched two levels fly past, then five, then seven, all the time falling faster and faster.

The platforms were close enough to reach but I was plummeting too fast, my arm almost ripped from my shoulder as I tried to grab a landing. The jarring impact must have slowed me, though, as I spun once and reached out again, somehow managing to hook my elbow round a railing. My body slammed into the metal, almost pulling another set of bolts from the wall. But it held.

Looking down I saw the loose platform strike the yard only two or three levels below, the berserker imitating it a millisecond later. It was as if it had C4 packed into its legs, the flesh exploding into a river of black
blood which hissed angrily as it sprinkled over the fire. I let go of the railing, dropping to the floor, feeling like every joint in my body had been dislocated or broken.

Both berserkers were down, but I could almost see the nectar inside them repairing their broken bodies. The beetle-black freak was still trying to pull the pickaxe from its head, too busy to even know I was there. The other one was already starting to push itself back up. I could see its bones moving beneath the skin, resetting themselves, and knew it was only a matter of time before it was back in the fight.

‘Alex!’ I heard a voice, half-recognised the boy who was sprinting from the trough room struggling to hold something. Aside from me he was the only living person in the entire yard. ‘Use this!’

I ran to meet him, hearing the sound of shearing flesh behind me as the berserker finally managed to wrench the blade from its twisted skull. The kid’s eyes widened as he looked past my shoulder, stumbling to a halt. He must have seen something demonic in my eyes too, as he threw the object to the floor before I reached him, legging it back towards the canteen. The cylinder rolled in a half-circle, packed tight with the same gas that had wrought so much damage earlier.

I snatched it up, turning to see the tall berserker bound towards me on its two long legs. Half of its head had been torn away, but the one silver eye which remained stared at me with unrestrained fury. Its claws caught the firelight like shards of obsidian, raised and ready to strike.

I never gave it the chance.

Grabbing the canister by its narrow valve, I ran at the berserker, waiting until the last possible moment to swing. The heavy cylinder caught the creature on the good side of its head, causing an eruption of dark matter from the pickaxe wound. Its legs turned to string and the beast flopped to the ground, twitching.

I didn’t stop, momentum carrying me towards the other freak. It only had stumps of legs to stand on, but it showed no sign of weakness – its arms tensing and its barbs bristling as it watched me approach. Somehow it managed to pounce, its dripping maw growing impossibly large, ready to swallow me whole.

I rammed the canister down its throat with everything I had. The creature choked, retching as it tried to disgorge the metal tank. Ignoring the barbs, I tackled the beast, lifting it off the ground and charging towards the fire. I couldn’t see where I was going but I could feel the heat singeing my skin. I waited until the last possible moment before hurling the berserker at the flames.

The flailing creature vanished into the pyre, its screams soon becoming a pitiful whimper. I staggered back, holding my hands up to protect my face from the sheer intensity of the blaze. I had retreated only a few steps before the canister exploded, the shock wave blasting across the prison in a tsunami of heat and blood and tattered flesh.

I peered through the smoke, waiting for the other berserker to attack. But it was retreating towards the
elevator. It curled its body through the doors, looking back once with a sliver of pure silver hatred, then vanished through the hole in the ceiling.

BOOK: Furnace 3 - Death Sentence
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