Endings And Beginnings
Later, what happened next seemed to exist in their minds in two separate dimensions, one where time moved with the crawling slowness of a glacial ice field and another where every motion was blurred with speed.
The lift rose, Alex doused the light, blinking rapidly in the heavy dark. Reaching the ground, the car eased to a smooth halt. He pressed himself against the wall to the right of the doors. Madeleine was flattened against the opposite wall, he could make out her outline faintly in the gloom as his eyes adjusted to the murk.
The doors opened onto a darkness almost as thick as that inside the lift. Silence greeted the open doors, nothing stirred in the lobby. Alex held his breath. He knew there had been two Techs within feet of the lift only moments ago. He wanted to reach out with his mind again, find the two men but that would take precious seconds in the dark—his powers did not seem able to counter the physical darkness he had wrought on The Clinic. Perhaps they had left their post in panic as the lights went out, but he couldn’t allow himself to believe that. They were there, somewhere. The seconds clicked by. There! He heard it, over the hammering of his heart and the rushing of blood in his veins, a faint susurration, someone breathing, to his left. Don’t move, he warned Madeleine. Gulping a lungful of air, he threw himself through the open doors, keeping his body low to the ground. There was the chatter of gunfire and the orange spurt of flame from the barrel of the automatic machine pistol revealed the black clad Tech to Alex as he gambolled through the doors, rolling into the lobby, over and over again before regaining his feet. The muzzle of the gun spat again, orange tracers swinging in Alex’s direction like fireflies at midnight. He dove behind a low table, bullets chasing through the air, cutting a swathe through the empty space he had occupied a fraction of a second before. The Tech pivoted on his feet and advanced towards Alex’s cover, finger still pressing down on the trigger of the Steyr, emptying thirty two rounds into the carpet and furniture around Alex. He felt the tug of a bullet on the collar of his shirt as he ducked for cover.
The Tech’s finger clenched the trigger until the faint click of an empty magazine replaced the roar automatic fire. He reached for a fresh clip, slapping it into place. Alex took the only chance he was going to have, rising from the floor the moment he heard the firing pin come up empty, and hurling himself at the Tech. His hands batted at the gun as the Tech slotted home the new magazine and he crashed into the assassin. He drove his knee up towards the man’s crotch and nodded his head forwards, butting the man in the face. He was rewarded with a groan, but little else. Driven by his training, the Tech lashed out with his left hand, striking Alex a numbing blow to his right shoulder. They rolled together on the floor, the Tech’s hands now pummelling at Alex, the machine pistol trapped between their bodies, its strap tight around the Tech’s neck. A snarl of defiance emitted from Alex’s mouth as he fought a losing battle with the stronger man. Heaving with all his strength, he managed to turn his assailant and they rolled once more, their momentum carrying them to the wall. Alex tried to reach the handle of the Steyr but it remained tantalisingly out of his grip. The sudden burst of gunfire took him by surprise and he froze, his muscles locking up instantly and saving his life. Sensing his chance, and perhaps immune to the shock the sound of the gunfire had caused in Alex, the Tech reared back, creating some space between himself and Alex, reaching for the grooved grip of the Steyr and the bullets which would have passed over his head, passed through it instead. The Tech’s head disintegrated in a shower of blood and bone and he toppled forward onto Alex. He cried out, almost gagging as he was showered with copious amounts of the man’s blood.
The gunfire ceased but Alex could hear its echo in his brain. In the sudden quiet, Alex saw the second Tech approaching through the darkened lobby. Sounds of panic and disruption filtered into his senses, the noises carrying from all points of The Clinic, but they were muted as if Alex and the two Techs, one dead, the other very much alive, were cocooned in a rubber room. The dead man’s body trembled spastically on top of Alex as the final impulses sent from his destroyed brain rippled through its torso and limbs and then it was still.
The second Tech closed the gap between them. Alex looked past the dead Tech’s shoulder up into the killer’s eyes. He saw a fear there that mirrored his own. Averting his gaze he looked into the muzzle of the gun now bearing down upon him. The strange calmness that had possessed him earlier now took hold of him again, dislocating his fear. He should have brought the gun upstairs, taken it from Shelton’s pocket, but he hadn’t been able to touch the body, had not even thought to take the weapon. Pressed into his stomach now by the weight of the dead man was the machine pistol, but even if he had time to grab hold of it, push the body off himself, turn and fire, he knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
The muzzle of the gun centred on his forehead. Alex closed his eyes, preparing himself to die.
No, Alex!
Madeleine’s thoughts rang through his head. His eyes snapped open, locked onto those of the Tech. He could feel the pressure increasing on the trigger, feel the minute tremor as the small lever was pulled back.
“You can’t close your hands.” His voice was almost unrecognisable to his own ears, flat, without inflection. Its effect was instant. Both of the man’s hands sprang open and the gun fell to the floor, slipping off the now straight finger in the trigger guard.
Astonishment crossed the Tech’s face and he instinctively bent down to the gun at his feet. He couldn’t pick it up. His hands refused to close around the barrel, his fingers wouldn’t hook around the grip. He tried several times, each time with increasing panic, his hands slapping at the gun but unable to lift it. Two of his fingers snapped as he tried to snatch at the weapon, striking the floor hard and straight. He cried out in shock, looking at the unnatural angle of his fingers, pain from the breakages beginning to flood through his senses.
“What have you done to me?” He straightened, looking at Alex through his disobedient hands.
Pushing the corpse of the first Tech off him, Alex said, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” The Tech repeated, his voice rising hysterically.
“Shut up,” Alex nudged and the Tech said nothing more, his mouth moved but no sounds came out. Terror flowed across his face and he lunged at Alex.
“You can’t move!” The words were spoken quietly, evenly, without passion or urgency. It was as if Alex was possessed by some strange other worldly force, and in a sense he was, listening to his inner self, as surprised by what he heard as the Tech was. He stepped around the breathing, living, statue, walking back to the main lobby.
Madeleine pressed herself firmly against the wall of the lift, she heard/felt Alex’s instruction to not move, holding a breath behind her lips as the doors opened. She tensed, every muscle in her battered body still as they listened and waited. When Alex dove through the doors of the lift, she almost cried out, holding back her yell with effort. She stood, feeling the flat, cool steel of the wall at her back and counted up from one. Before she reached three she heard the chatter of gunfire, her eyes screwing closed instinctively, biting her lip to keep from screaming. The gunfire continued through four, five and six before the click of an empty magazine opened her eyes. On ten she heard Alex struggling with the Tech, relief of a sort flooding through her. The bullets had missed. By twenty she could stand it no more. She had to move. Peeling herself away from the wall, she heard a faint sound, the snicker of cloth against cloth and she held herself still for a moment longer. Out of the shadows, just a deeper black than the rest of the darkness, moved a second man. The Tech passed the lift without a glance, his attention fixed on the struggle she could only hear. She waited another ten seconds before moving again. Her limbs had stiffened and she could not put any pressure on her foot, shooting pain spread from the break at every attempt. Using the wall as a crutch she hopped out of the lift as the second Tech fired his weapon. Her own shock was magnified by the jolt that fled through Alex’s mind and she could do nothing, not even take another hobbling pace. A second burst of gunfire ended, in the brief glow from the weapon’s muzzle she saw the bullets strike home. Quiet descended on the murky scene before her, through it she could discern the sounds of movement around them, seeming to come from the floor above. Cries and shouts, the sound of feet running, someone swore. Her eyes were locked onto the darkness ahead, where, through the fuzzy shadows, her eyes adjusted now to the lack of light, she could make out Alex and the two Techs. She felt Alex’s fear and then his acceptance of what was going to happen. Sensed he would rather die himself now than repeat what he had done downstairs. She wanted to cry out to him, but her throat was frozen. Instead she called out with her mind, hoping that her message would get through. There was no time to formulate more than just a plea.
No, Alex!
What happened then astounded her. She heard his voice and the strange evenness to it, the calm lucidity with which he spoke, and she saw the dramatic effect his words had. For long seconds she stood transfixed almost as unable to move as the Tech was. Then Alex was walking towards her and the spell was broken. He put his arms around her and clutched her to him.
“Oh my God,” she said rapidly, “I thought they were going to kill you.” She ran her hands over his face and through his hair, her palms sticky with the first Tech’s blood but she paid it no mind.
“It’s not over yet.” He supported her and they walked slowly through the ground floor, heading towards the front doors. The sounds of people approaching grew louder and they rounded a corner and came face to face with four more Techs. For a split second no one moved, then Alex spoke.
“Go to sleep.” That same low tone. The same sense of forcing his will onto the four men. They dropped like stones. There were stairs leading to the first floor, a wide staircase, polished wood covered by a thick lush carpet.
“Hold it right there!” The Tech stood at the top of the stairs, Alex recognised him as the man from the monitor room, a further Tech was at his shoulder. Both pointed guns at them.
Alex halted, staring at the men. “You can’t feel your legs.” The two men crumpled, their bodies tumbling down the stairs, grunts of shock and surprise accompanying them. Their guns flew out of their hands, sailing out over the open space of the hallway. Alex turned from the falling bodies, leading Madeleine towards the doors, she stared over her shoulder at the men as they struggled to stand, unable to regain their feet and cursing loudly, their cries of anger turning to horror as their limbs refuse to comply with their wishes.
There were five Techs unaccounted for. Alex and Madeleine were at the front door of The Clinic’s French facade, on the threshold of freedom. He had to finish it. He knew that now. He would never be free if he didn’t. Five people stood between him and Madeleine and their security. By now, none of them would be eager to get near him, but that wasn’t enough, they didn’t have to be near to fire a gun. He closed his eyes and searched the chateau. He found three Techs on the upper floor, grouped together, talking in hurried whispers, their frayed nerves obvious to him, fear dancing around them, spinning and whirling. They stood in one of the bedrooms on the east wing of the house, having regrouped there when the lights went off. Alex raised the lights on the first floor and the glow of the light bulbs made them physically jump. The door of the bedroom slammed shut and two Techs reflexively let loose a barrage of gunfire at the door. Satisfied they would cause no more harm to him or Madeleine, he left them.
He found the remaining Techs at the same time they found him. Coming from a door to the right of the stairs, a passageway that would have led to servants’ quarters in times past. The first tripped over the moaning bodies of the two Techs who had fallen down the stairs, sprawling across the floor. Alex pushed Madeleine to one side, hearing her cry of pain as she automatically tried to brace herself with her broken foot, she fell to the floor in agony. Alex dove to the other side as a burst of gunfire splintered the front door. Rolling to his feet, Alex saw the Tech, highlighted by the light streaming down from the upper landing as he swivelled towards him, levelling the gun to fire again.
“You’re a baby!” He shouted, the calmness of his earlier statements was gone, he shoved hard with his mind, the urgency of his command transmitting itself across the open space. The Tech dropped to the floor and began to cry, face scrunched up, mewling in anger and frustration, his arms and legs waving in the air.
The final Tech was on his knees, hands lifting the machine pistol to fire.
“It’s a snake,” Alex told him. The Tech blanched, his face creasing in terror. “It’s wrapped itself around you and won’t let go.” The Tech began to struggle with the imaginary reptile, his eyes wide with panic, hyperventilating. He rolled on the floor, fighting to free himself from the grip of the snake. Alex took the gun from the infant Tech and brought the butt down on snake Tech’s temple. He ceased his struggles as consciousness slipped away from him.
The two Techs at the bottom of the stairs were still attempting to stand. They froze as Alex turned towards them, pointing the gun. He told them to sleep and they complied immediately. The only sounds now were his own breathing, Madeleine’s sobs and the whimpering of the final Tech. Alex sent him to sleep and rushed back to Madeleine.
“It’s alright! It’s alright!” She bit back her cries as he helped her to a sitting position, her face gaunt with pain.
“Is it over?”
He held her close, kissed her. “Almost,” he said.
She stumbled through corridors, turning at random, an agenda drawn up by her subconscious not shared with the rest of her mind. She came to the corridor where Shelton’s body lay, red pools of his life force tarring his face and seeping into the carpet. She recognised not the man, seemed not aware that he was there at all but she stopped and her hand reached beside the body, scooping up the item lying next to it. She carried on, not losing a step as she came to Borkan. Her mind was fixed on only her stepfather. Her hands held in front of her she walked unerringly towards the lift, the knife taken from beside Shelton in her right hand. The blade’s point dug into her left palm as she twisted her right wrist unconsciously, the tip of the knife piercing her skin, burrowing lightly. Blood ran freely down her left forearm, dripping from her hand and the point of her elbow. She muttered under her breath, her memories feeding her fugue state, images flashing through her mind over and over again, a continuous loop.
“Coal. Dark. Spiders. Bastard. Kill you.”
The lift doors opened and she stepped into the car. “Hate you! Hate you! Hate you!” The knife twisted more sharply in her hand and blood pattered onto the floor of the lift. The darkness inside enveloped her as the door closed.
Alex had to destroy The Clinic. Then it would be over. His sham of a life to this point would end and he could begin again. He would burn it down, let fire sweep away everything that The Clinic was, and with it everything he could so easily have become.
He helped Madeleine to a chair he fetched from a lounge and she gratefully sank into its welcoming embrace, the terror, pain and adrenaline finally beginning to take its toll. They said little, there would be time for talking later.
Alex began to remove the Techs from the building, dragging and carrying the sleeping and unconscious men outside. The night sky was thick with cold but it was dry. A biting wind scored the earth, chilling him to the bone as he transported the men to a distance he judged would be safe from the house when it burned.
It took an hour to carry the men from the main hall, he was bone weary by the time he had subdued the three Techs in the bedroom and dragged them out. Only the first two Techs remained. He left the dead Tech where he lay. The second man was still frozen in place, unable to do anything except breath and swallow. His eyes fixed open, unable to blink, he saw Alex approach. A sense of guilt overcame Alex for a moment before he banished it. He had not harmed the man, nor would he. He began to manhandle the stiff form but could not bear to see the man’s open, unmoving eyes. He willed the man to a state of sleep and caught him in a fireman’s hold as his body finally slackened. Carrying the heavy weight of the man, Alex stumbled back towards the main hall. Breathing hard, he didn’t hear the footsteps at his back as he crossed the wide reception.
“Hate you! Hate you!” Behind her eyes, Holly saw the figure of her stepfather, leering at her, smirking vilely. The lift came to a stop and the doors parted. Passing out of the lift she walked as if guided through the ground floor of the chateau. Her breath caught in her throat. Ahead of her, she saw her stepfather, his back to her and carrying something. Her mumbling ceased and she stood transfixed as her stepfather, the man she hated more than anything else in the world vanished around a corner. A final twist of the knife in her right hand brought her out of her paralysis and she began to run towards where he had disappeared.
Pale light from the upper landing highlighted Alex’s back as she rounded the corner into the hall. A wail rose from her lips, a low moaning that developed into an unintelligible shriek as the object of her hatred solidified in front of her. Raising the knife she lunged at Alex.
Madeleine had been resting, almost dozing in the chair. Alex passed her, “The last one,” he was breathing heavily. She opened her eyes and nodded at him, forcing her tired muscles to smile slightly. Her leg had stiffened up tightly and she shifted her position awkwardly.
Holly’s wailing form seemed to appear from nowhere and she was across the hall before Alex knew what was happening or Madeleine could scream a warning. The knife flashed, a faint glimmer of light catching the blade so that it shimmered as she drove it down and Alex felt an intense flare of pain in his right shoulder. Screaming in pain he fell to the floor, the body of the sleeping Tech thumping heavily to the ground breaking his fall. Holly was on him, snarling and shouting, her words making no sense. Hand still gripped on the hilt of the knife, she worked the blade back and forth, freeing it from Alex’s shoulder, tearing muscle as she pulled it free. A numbness spread from the stab wound and Alex felt his right arm begin to lose feeling. Holly brought the knife down again, her weight pressing on Alex’s back and he tried to dislodge her, bucking her like a horse. His movements threw her off balance and the blade carved a niche down his right side. He lashed out with his rapidly failing arm and knocked her over, dragging himself away from her as she rolled back up and came at him again. His mind was scattered like leaves blown in a high wind, barely able to register that it was Holly attacking him. She threw herself forward and he blocked her plunging arm with his left hand, grabbing hold of her wrist and squeezing, trying to choke free her hold on the blade. She squirmed like a wild animal, beating at him with her free fist, pounding his face and striking his arm and shoulder. Each time she hit him he could feel the strength draining out of his body, the wound in his shoulder was deep and blood was oozing rapidly from the gash she had made. He could feel the muscles tearing more as he tried to defend himself. His arm barely worked.
“Kill you! Kill! Kill!” Spittle struck him as she screamed venomously, redoubling her efforts with the knife, forcing the blade closer to Alex, her strength that of two men, it seemed. The blade inched towards his face. He was fading fast and he felt his mind reaching out, burrowing into Holly’s brain, seeing the pent up hatred, scouring through her mind, finding almost nothing of the woman he had known, seeing only the confusion and the hate that gripped her like a vice. Feeling everything, the loathing and the pity, the disgust.
He reacted instinctively, his mind gripping hers and beginning to pull it apart, as he had done with Shelton, Blood vessels began to stretch and bend under the pressure of his thoughts, an internal force created within her very cells, expanding them towards breaking point. The baby! His mind flicked across the images as they scurried through his mind, rats leaving a sinking ship. And he pulled back, the pressure lessening on her brain. He couldn’t kill her, not because of the baby, he wanted nothing to do with the child, it was more Shelton’s than his, but because it was not within him. The image of the child was just a brake he had applied, stopping himself short of murder. Confusion scattered his thoughts and he felt his mind slip away from her.
His turmoil caused his attention to wander and suddenly the tip of the knife was pricking at the flesh of his cheek, the sharp sting of the point bringing him back and he strained to lift the blade from his face. He was grunting with the effort, his face contorted with exertion, mirroring Holly’s own insane look. The knife began to bear down again, she had given up trying to hit him with her other hand, sensing that he was becoming too weak to stop her now. Closing her left fist around her right she forced the knife down with all her strength. Closer, closer. Alex craned his head away from the lowering blade, gaining no more than a couple of inches.
The sound of the bullets punctuated the night air. Holly danced a death ballet, her body jerking and bucking as the bullets ripped through her, her flesh exploded, volcanoes of blood erupted on her perfect skin and she twitched as she was thrown back by the force of the impacts. She was torn from Alex’s grip, her momentum carrying her away from him. In the final moment of contact he felt her mind again, saw the clarity of reason appear for a brief instant and heard her speak in his mind: “Alex!” And then she was gone.
The gunfire ceased and he turned his head. Madeleine was crawling towards him, dragging herself across the hall, revulsion etched grimly into her face, the gun discarded by her side. Tears glimmered in her eyes, but Alex could barely see them for his own weeping.