stay here a few days. To comb their databases, to work out some new algorithms and just wallow in the luxury of it.
After a brief exploration they came to a room full of PCs. Greaves sat down and booted several up. To his extreme disappointment the machines weren't anywhere near as hi-tech as he'd believed they would be. In fact the most impressive models there were at least five years out of date, most of them were ten years behind and practically obsolete. Only two were able to read his memory stick, and only then after he'd done a bit of work on their operating systems.
He didn't mind too much though. It was a pleasure just to run his fingers over a keyboard again. He was lost to what was going on around him. Greaves was exploring the schematics of the lab's layout, seeing how his old colleagues had organised everything. Checking out how far they had moved on. Finding all the weak spots in their security and working out how to exploit them.
It brought back many memories. The sights and sounds of a lab, the distinctive smells. The laborious gathering of data and the sudden excitement as you approached a breakthrough, all of it came flooding back.
It was only at the last minute he noticed Cortez and Linda's agitation. They were spooked about something they'd heard. Greaves turned and saw they had their weapons at the ready. They were about to leave the room.
That's when the canister rattled across the floor. It was hissing.
'Hold your breath,' Greaves shouted but it was too late.
It felt like his flesh and bones had turned to salt water taffy, his body now long and stringy.
Greaves turned to look at the computer screen. The white lines on the blue background showing the layout of the lab seemed to stretch away into infinity. Like a black hole their gravity was inescapable. He was pulled into the screen. Pulled in between the endless white lines. Down, down, down, or was it across?
Some tiny part of his brain kept screaming out to him that it was just the gas.
It must be some secret military compound, left over from before The Cull. It had hallucinogenic properties. He had to fight it. To get up and get out of there.
But the pull of the lines and the blue background between them was just too great.
So he fell.
Sound came back first. From a long way away to begin with. He could hear something slapping against skin, then he felt a tingling sensation. No, it was more like pain, pain in his cheek. Someone was slapping him across the face.
'Welcome back sleeping beauty.' He heard a voice with a Mid-West accent say as he shook his head to try and clear it. His vision was blurred and he blinked to bring it back into focus. There were three figures standing in front of him. He moved his head around and saw four more figures in the room. Greaves had a throbbing headache and he felt nauseous but his sight righted itself.
He was tied to a chair, with his hands behind his back, in one of the offices in the Police Department. Two of the men in front of him were grinning – hate filled malevolent grins. The other just looked mean. Greaves was suddenly very frightened.
'Now that you're awake,' said the man in the middle. 'Maybe we should introduce ourselves.' He had short brown hair, acne and really bad teeth, he was probably in his late twenties. The man to his left was around six-five in height with close cropped hair, a moustache and the physique of someone who worked out a lot. He was the oldest, probably in his mid-thirties. The other man in front of Greaves looked Hispanic, he had black hair and swarthy skin.
'Now we all,' said Acne, 'are from the Neo-Clergy. Good, honest God fearing folk, and we don't take that kindly to you UTN motherfuckers riding into our town and attempting to massacre our women and children like you did in Montana. So you got exactly five seconds to tell me what you're planning on doing here, or I can't be held responsible for what's going to happen to you.'
Greaves cleared his throat. 'Honestly,' he said. 'I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about.'
'Is the wrong answer,' shouted Acne like he was some game show host. 'So Jed here is going to have a little play with you. Then we'll see if you feel more like talking to us. Show him your toys Jed.'
The guy with the moustache pulled out what looked like a big car battery, with a handle and two jump leads attached.
'Now Jed here,' said Acne. 'Used to wear a badge and work in these very offices keeping the streets clean from scum like you. So he knows a thing or two about getting pissants to talk, ain't that right Jed?'
'Sure is Billy Joe.'
'How many volts,' said Billy Joe. 'Can you get out of that machine of yours?'
''Bout five thousand. Maybe even ten if I work her hard.'
'Maybe even ten-thousand volts. Now am I right in thinking that would hurt if you were to attach those jump leads to a part of someone's body? Say maybe their nuts?'
'It'd hurt like a motherfucker Billy Joe. Hurt like a motherfucker.'
'Look,' said Greaves, failing to keep the panic out of his voice. 'This is ridiculous. I don't know what you want from me but you've got the wrong person. I was just passing through that's all. And the Neo-Clergy, aren't they completely defunct?'
'Completely defunct. Do you hear that Chico?' Billy Joe said to the Hispanic guy. 'Completely defunct, do you like them fancy words he's using?'
Chico shook his head. 'No sir.'
'Me neither. And for your information the Neo-Clergy is getting stronger and stronger everyday, in spite of you and your UTN buddies trying to slaughter us all.'
'I'm not from the UTN. I don't even know what the UTN is.'
'Then why are you travelling with that Redskin bitch huh?' said Billy Joe. 'Answer me that. What you doing in them offices underground that not even Jed here's ever heard about.'
'We're just scavs. We were just passing through, thought we'd look for something we could sell. That girl, she's just someone we picked up.'
'You know,' said Billy Joe. 'I'm liking your answers less and less. We been watching you from the moment you hit town boy. Since when do scavs drive a fancy motor home like yours, huh? Since when do scavs break into secret buildings no-one knows about and settle down to play on a computer when, to the best of my knowledge, they're as rare as hen's teeth. You're up to something. Now I've tried to find out the nice way, but you're just not playing ball. So you brought this on yourself. You remember that when you're crying and screaming for your mama.'
Jed unbuckled Greaves' belt and yanked down his trousers. His genitals shrank back in on themselves.
'Well now,' said Billy Joe with a filthy laugh. 'They sure don't call you Moby Dick back home do they? You sure we got enough to work with Jed?'
'This'll do,' Jed grunted.
'No wait,' said Greaves. 'Please don't do this. I'm begging you please don't do it. There's been a mistake. A terrible mistake. Please don't, please, AAAHHH!'
Jed applied the jump lead clips to Greaves' testicles. The cold metal teeth bit into his balls, sending shooting pains right up into his abdomen.
'Think that hurts do you?' said Billy Joe. 'Trust me you haven't felt pain yet.'
Jed connected the leads to the battery. Greaves felt the burning heat from the clips first, charring his flesh. He screamed but that wasn't the worst of it.
Seven thousand volts shot through his body. It felt like someone had punched him in the nuts. But the punch travelled right through his whole frame, pounding every molecule in his body on the way. His spine arced and his muscles went into spasm as he writhed and fought the ropes that held him to the chair.
Jed flicked a switch and Greaves slumped back down, whimpering and sobbing. His legs were jerking and twitching. He struggled for breath, but his chest wouldn't move properly, his lungs wouldn't inflate, none of his body would do what he told it.
'Oh God,' he said eventually. 'Oh God please, please stop this.'
'Sorry partner,' said Billy Joe. 'But I don't think you've had enough yet. He had enough yet Jed?'
'No sir,' said Jed and fired it up again.
Another surge tore through Greaves' body. Stronger, more excruciating. The pressure was intolerable. He felt it trying to push its way out of his skull. His eyeballs strained as though they were going to pop out of his sockets.
