The Hurst Chronicles (Book 1): Hurst (10 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

Riley was last over the fence. The sleeve of her jacket caught on some barbed wire and ripped. Off balance, she let out a gasp as she landed heavily on the grass verge below twisting her ankle a little. The fence rattled metallically behind her and she cursed, admonishing herself: “Nice one Riley. Get it together.”

The rest of the group was already at the fire door. Zed had started loosening up the frame with a crow bar, before splintering the wood around the locking mechanism. It took around ten minutes before the reinforced surround caved in and with a loud creak, Zed levered the door open a crack. He got his fingers inside and pulled the door open wide, its rotten base scraping against the concrete floor. Inside, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the gloom and they picked their way carefully around some machinery and shelving units. Only the dying light from the doorway and from two narrow skylights that cast fading shadows lighted the room.

Double doors led through to one of the main corridors of the hospital running north to south as far as the eye could see. From Sean’s crude drawing of the hospital layout, Zed figured this would take them to the stairwell that led to the upper floors. The corridor was eerily quiet. There was not a soul about.

They regrouped in a consultation room off to the left, huddling together around Zed, who crouched down, one knee on the linoleum floor. “Where is everyone?” asked Riley. Zed shrugged his shoulders. “Looks like no-one’s home. So let’s make the most of it. According to Sean’s map there’s a stairwell just up here, right?” Sean leaned in, angling the crude map towards him to check and nodded. “OK. So let’s head up to the next floor. Mila, you’re with me. Stay together. Let’s get this done and get out. ”

Zed led the way out back into the corridor, keeping to the left side and pausing at each doorway to listen. Where the walkway opened out into a lobby area, there was a lone flickering candle in a saucer, but still no sign of anyone.

Riley pointed to a blue sign directing them to the stairwell. She put her hands to the heavy door and put her weight against it, easing it open silently. At the foot of the stairs, she craned her neck to the side to peer up between the railings making sure there was no one coming down. It was all going a little too well, which made Zed suspicious. Were they walking into a trap?

At the top of the flight of stairs, Riley cracked open the door on to the first floor and put her face up close, her breath hot against the metal handle as she listened and waited. She could hear voices and put her finger to her lips to warn the rest of the group who had gathered just behind her. She opened it wider and stuck her head round the corner. About thirty meters away she could see half a dozen people with their backs turned, arms crossed. They appeared to be having some sort of meeting.

They stole across the corridor and waited out of sight. Zed gestured to Riley, Sean and Joe to start their search, checking each of the rooms, while he and Mila stood guard and spied on their conversation. The first floor was poorly lit with candles and kerosene lamps. They had no trouble keeping to the shadows. Skirting round the back of the group, they followed the U-shape till it opened out into a large atrium that overlooked a lobby area. Below them they could hear voices and the unmistakable sounds of a large gathering, bodies pressed tightly together, feet shuffling and a man coughing some distance away. Zed crouched down next to a large pot plant, his senses alert. To their right around a dozen doctors and medical staff were leaning over the railing listening. A few of the doctors had their arms crossed, their body language seemed hostile as if they were removed from whatever was being discussed below. Two men in white lab coats whispered conspiratorially, but he couldn’t catch what they were saying from this distance.

Zed crept forward, Mila beside him and peered between the railings at the sea of faces gathered tightly together below. A couple of hundred heads were facing away from him, craning necks and squinting into the relative gloom to see what was going on at the far end of the lobby. He crouched low but still couldn’t see what they were looking at. The crowd fell silent as a man’s voice carried across the room. It was a voice Mila recognized instantly from earlier in the day: clipped, Mancunian, slightly nasal with a hard edge. The hairs at the back of her neck prickled as she remembered the man in black from earlier and what they had done to poor Bob.

“You all know how hard we’ve fought to get this far. It hasn’t been easy. We’ve all lost someone or something. But together we’re strong. Look around you. We have food, we have a roof over our heads, we have weapons, we have security, and we even have our own doctors to treat us when we get sick. But if we are going to do more than just survive here, we need to grow and expand.”

There were murmurs of approval and nods from a few of the heads.

“Every day our patrols bring back men, women and children from places round here. Every day we learn about other survivor camps throughout this area. Dozens of them, big and small. Beyond the New Forest, there may be hundreds more groups like us, surviving, holding on, waiting.”

“We have a good set up here. We have everything we need. So why do we need to change?” He paused, letting his question gestate and resonate with his audience.

“Let me tell you. We have a chance, a chance to become something more. To take a lead. To build a new world, to create a new world order, based on our rules. No one can tell us what to do any more. Tell us how to think, how to act. The old world is gone. We don’t have to go back to the way things were. We can build something new, something better.”

The whispers grew to a louder discussion, and another man’s voice, deeper and menacing, appealed for quiet before putting his fingers to his lips and whistled. The room fell silent again.

“Even now, our research team is working hard to find a cure. In time, to synthesize a vaccine, however long that takes. I can tell you that we have already discovered that certain individuals have natural immunity to the virus. We don’t know why yet, but we’re getting closer every day. With the right resources and support, there’s no reason why in the future we can’t mass-produce a vaccine and start inoculating hundreds, maybe thousands of survivors. Spreading the word, spreading the cure not just to the New Forest but also to the world. Imagine for a second the power and influence that discovery would deliver. Starting tomorrow, we begin reaching out to other groups. We invite them to join us. To join forces with us, to expand, to rebuild.”

A voice from the back shouted out: “What if they don’t want to? You can’t make them join us.”

The man in black laughed dismissively: “You’re right. No one can force them to join us. But they would be foolish to stand against us.”

There were hoots of derision from those members of the audience who distrusted the man in black and his thinly disguised ambitions. He had to wait until the raucous noise from the increasingly partisan crowd abated before continuing.

“There will be those that disagree with our methods. Let them. When they see what we are building. When they hear that we have the cure. When they see what the future holds. Then they will understand. Our way of life means growth, prosperity, security for all. If they join us we stand together united. They are either with us, or against us.”

It was clear to Zed that the room was deeply divided. There were those that feared and hated, while others supported. The room seemed to erupt, catalysed by the emotive discussion. It seemed like all of their anger, their fear and their hope boiled over simultaneously with factions shouting at each other and at the stage. There was some pushing and shoving. Men squared up to each other, fingers jabbed in faces. A couple of punches were thrown, as order degenerated rapidly.

Zed had heard and seen enough. He slipped away from the railing, beckoning Mila to come with him. Together they joined the others in searching the rest of the first floor.

Most of the rooms were either locked or empty and dark. Double doors to a larger overnight ward were barred from the outside with a piece of wood padlocked in place. There was a good chance this was where they were holding Will. Two small square observation windows were papered over with dried tissue from the outside. Mila scratched some off with her fingernail to see what was inside. She heard a chair scrape from the other side and muffled voices.

She peeled off more paper and peered inside. A bearded face appeared suddenly, filling the square window and Mila jumped back startled. He looked dishevelled, his hair grey and unkempt. He stared deep into Mila’s eyes and started banging his fists on the door weakly. She gestured for him to stop, afraid that the noise would attract attention. The old man put his face to the crack and whispered. “Please help us.” He rattled the handle on the double doors, but they were securely fastened. Mila tried the handle from her and looked around for a key but there was nothing she could do.

Zed came over and looked through the window into the ward. There were about a dozen beds but more than thirty or so people holed up inside. Who knew how long they had been kept there. Judging by the filth and smell it had been some time. They looked malnourished. Some could barely stand. They huddled close to the door appealing to Mila and Zed to get them out.

Zed leaned in close to the door and put his mouth to the crack. “We’re looking for Will. South African guy. Is he here?”

The old man shook his head. “There’s no one of that name or nationality here. Please. Don’t go. You’ve got to help us. You don’t know what they’re doing here.”

Zed turned to go, but the old man called him back. “You need to understand what’s really going on here. To get word to the others.”

“What others? You’re not making any sense. Look I’d like to help you but I’m sorry, we’re running out of time.”

“Wait, please. You need to know. They’re experimenting on us. Someone needs to make them stop. Every day, they take one more and no one ever come back. Sometimes we can hear their screams.”

Zed looked at Mila and shook his head, struggling to understand what they were hearing. What kind of hospital locked people up and treated them like this? Like lab rats. He rattled the padlock and heavy chain securing the makeshift bar, blocking the doors from being opened. “Believe me, we want to help you, but there’s nothing we can do. The door is padlocked. There’s no way for us to open it. I’m so sorry. Do you know where they keep the key?”

“The fat man always has the key with him. They always keep it locked.” He banged the door again with the flat of his hand in frustration.”

“I’m so sorry. We’ll come back if we can and try and get you out. Good luck.”

They backed away from the door. Mila felt terrible and sad, checking the rest of the rooms on this floor. What were they doing to them? What did the old man mean when he said they were experimenting on them?

“Come on, let’s find Will and get out of this place?” said Zed, pulling at Mila’s sleeve, reluctant to leave.

Chapter Twenty-three

Sean, Riley and Joe were already on the next floor up moving efficiently, sweeping silently from room to room. There was still no sign of Will and they were beginning to lose hope. Riley had made the grim discovery of a waiting room being used as a mortuary. Five bodies were laid out in an orderly row with a sheet over each of them. Riley pulled her jumper up over her mouth and tried to avoid breathing in the stench. She lifted up the corner of the sheet for the body closest to her and recoiled at the sight of a body ravaged by sickness. A young woman’s face. Her eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling. The victim could have been no more than eighteen. Her face was gaunt, her skin drawn tight. Dried blood crusted around her nose and ears. She wore a pale yellow dress with a plunging neckline, her bra strap exposed. Along her alabaster-white left arm was a crop of half a dozen needle marks, many in small red circles. Riley had seen her fair share of death, but seeing one so young, in the prime of her life, chilled her to the very bone. Her heart sank and she sighed loudly looking across at the other bodies, shaking her head. Judging by the dead girl’s face, she had died only very recently, probably in the last twenty-four hours. She was surprised they hadn’t moved the bodies already. Back at Hurst, they burned the dead to reduce the risk of contamination.

She moved to the next section through a heavy security door with a key-pad entry system whose screen was inactive. The sign above the doorway was marked ‘Restricted Access – No Admittance’. To her surprise she found the door unlocked and pushed on, her senses alert, checking behind her, making sure there was no-one following. Riley whipped her head round at the sound of a light tapping from one of the rooms at the end of the corridor. Treading lightly, she sidestepped nervously towards where the sounds had come from.  Controlling her breaths, she leaned her head against the painted wooden door, listening carefully.

A child’s voice came from the inside. “Hello, is there somebody there?” She sounded very young and frightened. Riley had a moment of indecision. They were here for Will. Zed had been very clear. They couldn’t save everyone. The girl’s voice interrupted her internal monologue.

“I can hear you breathing. Please, can you get me out?”

Riley tried the handle but the door was locked. She got down on one knee and looked through the keyhole. A green eye with long lashes close to the hole blinked back at her. The lock was basic, the kind Riley knew how to defeat easily with a piece of plastic or credit card. She checked her pockets but there was nothing. There wasn’t much call for credit cards any more. She looked around her and noticed a door open to what looked like a staff room. Inside there was a nurse’s uniform hanging up next to a cheap white desk with a grey computer monitor, its screen lifeless. Behind the door was a hook with a set of keys on a key ring with a lucky eight ball attached. She grabbed the keyring and raced back to the locked door.

On the third attempt, she found the right one and the key turned. Before she knew it a little girl wrenched the door open from her grasp on the handle and brushed past her. The girl was no more than ten with long dark hair, plain looking and dressed in clothes that looked a size too small for her. She hugged Riley and stepped back to get a proper look at her. Riley smiled and relaxed a little, but checked beyond her into the room, to make sure there was no one else hiding inside.

She said her name was Adele and she’d been brought here with her older brother Jamie a few days ago. They had been separated and she hadn’t heard or seen him since. She rolled up her sleeve and showed Riley a series of prick-marks on her skin where they had injected her and taken her blood. Adele said she had been held separately from the others for the last two weeks. Why, she wasn’t sure, but it meant better food and daily injections.

Riley studied the marks on her arm, too many to count. Who would do this to a child, she asked herself? She had worked in the health system long enough to recognise what looked like the arm of a junkie, but that made no sense. Why would they repeatedly inject a child? She didn’t look ill. Was there something special about the girl perhaps? Why keep her in isolation? Why would they do that? No matter what Zed had said, there was no way she was leaving a child to die in this place.

“You’re going to be alright now. You’re coming with us.” The little girl grinned revealing a couple of missing teeth. Riley dropped down on to her knees so their faces were level and held Adele by the shoulders. “Adele. I have something very important to ask you. We’re looking for our friend. His name is Will. He’s South African. Do you know where we might find him?”

“Nope, sorry.” She shook her head and balanced on tiptoes to make herself taller, taking Riley’s hand to steady herself.

Sean joined them both and looked the girl up and down. “Who the hell’s this? You’ve got to be kidding, Riley. We can’t take a kid. She’ll only slow us down.”

“I don’t want to hear about it Sean. We’re not leaving her ok? She’s coming with us. End of story.”

“Fine. Then she’s your baggage.” He tutted to himself and wandered off to check the last of the rooms beyond.

“Don’t mind him. He’s ok when you get to know him.”

Riley went to leave and follow Sean but the little girl pulled her back. “Wait. There’s someone else in the room at the end. She’s like me, Riley, but older. I think her name is Stella.” She dragged Riley behind her by the hand, her delicate soft fingers laced through Riley's and stood outside the last door. They tried all the keys, but none of them worked. Riley shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry, kiddo. We could go back to the nurse’s station and try the drawers I suppose.” Adele stared down at the floor. Her whole body seemed to sag. She straightened suddenly as if electrified by a thought. She tried the handle and to both of their surprise the door swung open.

There was a coughing from inside and a young woman stirred and sat up in bed clutching a brown hospital blanket to her bare chest. She glowered suspiciously at Riley, clearly annoyed at being disturbed. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear that had fallen across her face. Her eyes darted furtively across to Adele. There was a flicker of recognition, but her expression remained the same: a curious blend of defiance and vulnerability. Riley wasn’t sure which prevailed. The woman looked back at Adele, confused: “Who are you? Who is she, Adele?” and then addressed Riley directly: “What do you want?”

“She’s here to rescue us,” said the girl brightly.

“Not exactly,” corrected Riley. “We’re looking for our friend Will and found you two instead.” There was something about her Riley didn’t trust. Riley pointed to the door, but her eyes remained fixed on the girl. “All the other rooms were locked. How come yours isn’t?”

The young woman yawned and swung her legs off the bed and stood up, her legs stiff and sore. She was still sleepily clutching the hospital blanket to her chest. She reached over and grabbed a top that lay crumpled on a blue plastic chair by the wall. Turning her back away from them she dropped the blanket. She looked child-like standing there, under-developed for her age with slim hips and a narrow waist. Her pale shoulders and back were covered in small red marks and dark bruises. Her spine and rib cage were clearly visible as she hunched over. Riley noticed her wrists. They looked raw and swollen where she must have been tied previously. The girl threaded her arms through the sleeves of a grey-white t-shirt with a faded Mickey Mouse on the front. She pulled it over her head, scooping shoulder-length reddish blonde hair from where it had become trapped underneath the material. She leaned over and grabbed a pair of blue jeans that lay on the chair and wiggled into them, perched on the side of the bed.

She glanced back at them, her face half hidden again by the lock of hair that had tumbled back over reddening cheeks. She looked like a frightened animal, wild and untamed. “They leave mine unlocked because they know I won’t leave.”

“I don’t get it. Are you a prisoner here?”

“It’s not as simple as that. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” said Riley.

“I can’t leave,” continued the girl. “They…they keep me here.”

Riley looked puzzled. “What do you mean? Like a slave?” she said scornfully and regretted it instantly, it just slipped out.

“It’s not like that.” Her cheeks flushed red. “Look you don’t get it. If I do what they say then everything’s ok. They bring me food and treat me nice. But if I don’t do what they say, then they beat me. At first I fought back, but now I’ve learned to just shut up and let them...” her voice trailed off.

The girl looked down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes childishly. She was about Mila’s age, but pale and thin. Riley walked over and put her arm around her.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here. You’re coming with us.”

Stella seemed uncertain. “No, if they find me out of my room, they’ll beat me again. Please, just leave me here.”

Riley insisted: “We’re getting you out of here. Someplace safe. Where you don’t have to live like this anymore. How did you end up here anyway?”

Stella told them her story in barely above a whisper, stopping several times to compose herself. They’d captured her and two of her friends about a month ago a few miles from here. They were picking fruit and berries at what they thought was a safe distance from the road, not far from where they had been based in a large hotel. Her friends had refused to cooperate and got badly beaten and taken away, she didn’t know where. One of the men was kind to her and had protected her from the others who pushed and hurt her. She had ended up here in this room, sleeping for most of the day, reading books, waiting for the man to visit her. She started to cry, beginning to realize and remember the pain and horror she had been subjected to. It was as if her mind had been disconnected and switched off, till now. She started shivering as supressed memories came flooding back. Adele walked up to her and hugged her tightly.

Even so, she seemed uncertain about leaving. Riley and Adele grabbed a hand each and walked her out, half supporting her as her legs grew weak again.

Sean was speechless when they found him. He shook his head at the latest addition to Riley’s entourage and walked away. There was still no sign of Will and they were out of time.

Stella pleaded with them to finish up and get out of here. She stood nervously gnawing her fingernails, watching. The ‘monsters’ would be back soon and she didn’t want to be around when they came back. Just then a piercingly-loud alarm sounded that made them all flinch, splitting the air close to their heads. They looked at each other confused.

There were footsteps coming towards them along the corridor. Riley ushered the group into the nurse’s station to the right and took a deep breath. She unhooked the strap securing the shotgun to her backpack and readied herself. She braced the stock against her shoulder like Zed had shown her and waited, half-hidden behind the doorway. As the footsteps grew louder she released the safety catch and put her finger lightly on the trigger.

To her relief, Zed and Mila appeared round the corner and stood staring at Riley wide-eyed, trying to catch their breath. Mila leaned against the wall, fighting for air: “They’re coming.”

Zed was cradling his left wrist, grimacing with pain. “We need to leave now.”

Stella tugged at Riley’s sleeve. “This way Riley. There’s another way out. You need to follow me.”

Zed exchanged glances with Sean. “Who are these two?” Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t ask. Riley’s waifs and strays,” he responded sarcastically and followed after the girl.