‘Punch,’ she shouted. ‘Where are you, dude?’
Jane stepped into the corridor. She was faced by a dozen Hyperion passengers. They stood the length of the passageway, lit by flickering strip-light.
Jane backed away from the stink of piss and rotting flesh. A dozen ravaged faces. A dozen pairs of jet-black eyes. She expected the foul creatures to attack. They stood quite still, as if awaiting instructions.
They shrank back into darkened doorways. A clear invitation for Jane to proceed.
Nikki approached the situation board, a flickering, back-lit map of the western hemisphere. A figure was fused to the glass by metal filaments.
‘She’s here,’ murmured Rye, slowly lifting her head. Metal tendrils from her eye sockets. She was plugged in to the walls, plugged in to the collective conscious, monitoring the inhabitants of the bunker with strange new senses. ‘She’s outside the door.’
Nikki turned to face the entrance.
Jane looked around the ops centre. Ghost, Punch and Nail lashed to chairs. Bodies melded to the walls and ceiling. Jane looked up. An old woman spread-eagled on the ceiling directly above her head. The woman gently squirmed, like she was trying to work out how she came to be pinned to the roof.
Nikki at the centre of it all, hands in her pockets, smiling a welcoming smile.
Jane glanced at Ghost and Punch. Quick inspection for injury or infection.
‘Good to see you, Jane,’ said Ghost.
‘You guys all right?’
‘Punch is all right. I’m fine. Don’t think Nail will be coming home.’
Nail sobbed. The big man snivelled and drooled snot.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ said Nikki.
‘That’s sweet.’
Jane edged around the room. She held the flare like she was warding off a vampire. Spitting, fizzing purple flame. Wax dripped over her gloved hand.
She dug in her pocket with her left hand and took out her lock-knife. She flicked open the blade with her thumb and handed it to Ghost. He cut his wrists free then released his ankles. He quickly shook and stretched to restore circulation.
‘I want to talk to you,’ said Nikki. ‘Just talk.’
‘Sure,’ said Jane, super-calm, placating a lunatic. ‘Fire away.’
‘I want you to stay with us. Europe is a radioactive cinder. There’s nothing for you back home. Just death and ruins. But there’s a place for you here, a place to belong. Call Sian. She can stay too.’
‘Sure she’ll appreciate the sentiment.’
Ghost cut Punch free and helped him to his feet. He dropped the knife in Nail’s lap.
‘Hey. Nail. Do yourself a favour. Slit your throat while you have the chance.’
‘Look around you, Nikki,’ said Jane. ‘Take a moment and look. Why would anyone spend a single second in this fucking abattoir? There are some diesel drums in the plant room. Seriously. Torch the place.’
Nail cut himself lose. He moved on Nikki, gripping the lock- knife like he was ready to shiv her in the gut. She stepped back. Two rotting Hyperion officers shuffled forward to block his path. Nail ran from the room.
Jane, Ghost and Punch edged towards the door.
‘Why be scared?’ asked Nikki. ‘What do you have to lose? Your body will change, but so what? It’s not like any of us danced for the Royal Ballet. You’ve been fat all your life. You got thin, but you still bear the marks of obesity. Wide bones. Splayed feet. What’s so great about being you? What are you holding out for? I’m trying to help. I’m trying to do the biggest favour of your life.’
Nikki stepped forward, arms outstretched in a pleading gesture.
‘Join us. Join us, Jane.’
Jane threw the hammer. A spinning blur. The hammer smacked Nikki’s forehead. She was knocked from her feet.
The phalanx of Hyperion crewmen began to shuffle forward, antibodies preparing to repel an intruder.
Jane took the jar of kerosene from her pocket and dashed it on the floor. She threw the flare and shielded her face from the eruption of flame.
She tossed Ghost her radio.
‘Run,’ she said. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’
Ghost grabbed an extinguisher from the wall, like he was ready to stand and fight.
‘Don’t be a fucking idiot,’ said Jane. ‘Take Punch. Get a head start. Go on. Run.’
She picked up an office chair and held it, ready to fend off attack.
Nikki got to her feet, hand pressed to her bleeding forehead. Hammer imprint between her eyes.
Nikki examined the blood in her palm. Woozy smile. She faced Jane through a wall of fire, watched her back towards the doorway.
‘I know you better than anyone, Jane. I can see through you like a fucking X-ray. You hate yourself, every molecule. I know what that’s like. You’ve been lonely your whole life. Every waking moment screaming out for some kind of contact, some kind of warmth. But you’re not alone. That bleak, psychic terrain. I’m right there with you. I’m your soulmate, Jane. Yin-yang. You and me. Not those guys.’
‘See you in the next life, Nikki.’
‘Wait. Listen to me. There’s no shame in wanting to belong. You and the rest of the human race. Everyone desperate to escape the confines of their skull, cramming themselves into cinemas, football stadiums, church pews, all yearning for some kind of collective experience. It’s a life sentence, Jane. A life in solitary. But we don’t have to be out in the cold any more. This is our chance. We can come home. You think it’s all back in Europe. Contentment. But you’ve been living that way for years. Tell me I’m wrong. Dreaming happiness is somewhere else, somewhere over the horizon. But you’re home, Jane. It’s right here. Everything we ever wanted. We can finally belong.’
‘You know what?’ said Jane. ‘You’re wrong. I like being me.’
She turned and ran.
‘You’ll be alone,’ shouted Nikki. ‘You’ll be alone your whole damn life.’
The Race
Punch climbed the ladder. He left the light and warmth of Level Zero and ascended to the freezing dark of the main tunnels. He struggled to grip the rungs. His wrists and ankles were bleeding.
‘Are you all right?’ called Ghost from the top of the shaft.
‘Grinning from ear to fucking ear.’
Ghost hauled Punch from the shaft. He helped Punch to his feet.
‘Can you walk?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Can you run?’
‘I’ll try.’
Ghost struck a flare.
‘If we don’t make it to Rampart before it reaches open sea we are dead men.’
Punch put his arm round Ghost’s waist. They hurried down the tunnel. A steady slope to the surface.
They glimpsed a Hyperion passenger standing in an alcove. Fancy dress. A guy in a dinner suit and bull mask. The emaciated creature watched them pass. It slowly turned its head like a CCTV camera recording their progress.
‘Is it following us?’ asked Punch as he limped along.
Ghost looked over his shoulder. ‘No. It’s just standing there.’
‘Christ, I can’t wait to be out of this place. I just want to breathe clean air.’
‘Damn right,’ said Ghost.
They kept jogging.
‘You know what?’ said Punch.
Ghost was about to reply when Nail lunged from the shadows and knocked them to the ground. He sat on Ghost’s chest and squeezed his throat.
Nail’s lips were bruised and swollen. He looked like he was wearing black lipstick. He sank his teeth into Ghost’s cheek and tore away a flap of flesh. Ghost yelled in pain. He jammed the flare into Nail’s eye socket. Nail
