Thomas sat quietly as the subway train zoomed past the abandoned section of town. Gradually, the train came to a halt, and the last remaining passengers left the subway car. Thomas took no notice as they shuffled out. The doors shut and a breeze briefly crossed Thomas’ face. He stared out the window as the train began moving again.
As he watched the dilapidated buildings pan by, Thomas reminisced over his past. Three years ago he had been a happy, carefree 12-year-old boy. His father had been the Justice Minister at the time. His mother had been a caring doctor. His sister had been only 10. They had lived peacefully in their suburban neighbourhood. Thomas shuddered, remembering the night all that was taken away.
There had been fire. It had spread everywhere, engulfing the houses, the people. He remembered the smell of burning wood, metal, and flesh. He recollected the violent, shadowy figures as they stalked through the buildings. Figures in black trench coats, carrying guns and shouting. He heard the shots in the distance, screaming, yelling, and the sound of the helicopters as they flew by. He saw his father fall to the ground in agony, and the face of his father’s killer, grinning in malevolence. Thomas would never forget the man’s ugly smirk, his stark, silver-white hair. He would always remember the face of his family’s murderer. He would have his vengeance one day. The man’s one mistake was to leave Thomas to die in the burning debris.
In the ensuing chaos, Thomas had been able to keep his survival secret. He had learned from authorities their suspicions concerning the killings. Thomas’ father had been investigating the projects of the Megalith Corporation. The powerful mega-conglomerate controlled over half of the country’s commerce and industry, even possessing their own military security force. Thomas had tracked the leads to this old, rundown city. He sat on the train as it circled the city, his leads exhausted, out of ideas, and almost out of money. Thomas glanced through the window again at the forested area the train was travelling through.
Dr. Ferdinand Nicholas stood angrily starring at the men across from him. Across the table, Director Santiago leaned back in his chair. Beside him, a tall grey-haired man in a black suit stood silently.
“I assure you, Santiago, we’re moving the program along as fast as possible,” said Dr. Nicholas coldly.
“Well, Doctor, I am afraid that it’s not moving fast enough,” replied the Director calmly. “We cannot allow this project to fall behind.”
“But sir, we’ve already pushed the subjects extremely hard,” responded Dr. Nicholas. “Last week alone we had two deaths. Three other subjects suffered trauma and are unconscious.”
“Yes, such unfortunate setbacks,” commented the grey-haired man. “One must certainly question the good scientist’s handling of these incidents.”
Dr. Nicholas looked suspiciously at the grey haired man. “What are you implying, Davidson?”
“Oh, just how much time you wasted trying to resuscitate—”
“You mean the time I spent trying to keep them alive?” said Dr. Nicholas, glaring at Davidson.
“—Trying to resuscitate the subjects, yes,” finished Davidson.
Dr. Nicholas looked icily at Davidson. “You are a soulless man, Davidson!”
“No! I am efficient,” replied Davidson.
“Enough of this!” warned Santiago. “Bicker on your own time, we must maintain quota or the Corporation will cut us off!”
“Sorry sir,” replied Nicholas and Davidson in unison.
“Now I want efforts to be increased 40% by next week,” said Santiago as he recovered himself.
“Director, we’ve already stepped up experimentation on all of the subjects,” responded Dr. Nicholas. “It’s putting significant strain on their mental and physical condition.”
“I don’t need excuses Nicholas,” replied Santiago, “I need results.”
Santiago turned, facing the man beside him. “Mr. Davidson shall see to that, correct?”
“Yes sir,” said Davidson coolly.
Dr. Nicholas stormed out of the room in fury. These people were fools, he thought. They had no understanding of the delicacy of his experiments. He stalked through the bleak, metallic hallways until reaching a door marked ‘Lab 14’. The doors slid open as he passed through them. Piles of scientific equipment lay strewn across the dimly lit, shadowy room. A young lady in a lab coat sat at a computer terminal in deep concentration. Connected to the computer, eight metres away, was a complex apparatus of wires and electrodes on a metal bed. On the bed, hooked into the confusing mesh of electrodes, lay a young girl.
“How is Sarah…err…Subject 31,” said Nicholas to the young woman at the computer.
“She’s…holding up,” replied the woman.
Nicholas looked at the woman “Santiago wants the experiments accelerated by 40%.”
“What? But she’s barely managing at this level, she’s already suffering under the strain.”
“I know,” said Nicholas quietly. “She’s my brightest subject. Nadia, I can’t let them ruin her.”
“So, you’re going through with it?” asked Nadia.
“Yes.”
Two hours later, an explosion rocked the compound. Davidson hurried to the source of the explosion.
“What happened? Agent, report!”
“Ruptured chemical tank, sir. Lab 14’s been totally destroyed,” yelled a man in a black uniform, barely audible over the sounds of flames and fire extinguishers.
“Any survivors?” shouted Davidson.
“None sir, we’ve found one body, it’s Nicholas.”
“The fool,” muttered Davidson. “What about the subject?”
“Nothing sir. We think she was vaporized in the explosion.”
“You idiot! She wouldn’t have just vaporized! Find her!” yelled Davidson at the agent.
“Sir?” replied the agent, confused.
“Just do as I say! Send out teams to scour the compound!” said Davidson, furious.
Nadia Peterson, still in her white lab coat, drove swiftly away from the compound. Beside her, in the stolen jeep, was a frightened young girl in a brown parka and borrowed jeans.
“Don’t worry,” Nadia said. “We’ll be safe and away in no time.”
Explosions rocked the compound behind them.
“Well, that was probably Nicholas,” said Nadia, wiping away a tear. “He always wanted his experiments to end with a bang.”
They were silent for several minutes as they continued driving towards safety. Then, Nadia glanced in the mirror, and noticed dark specks coming over the nighttime horizon.
“Shoot, they’ve figured it out,” said Nadia as she slammed on the brakes. They stopped beside a dense, wooded area.
Nadia looked at Sarah and said, “Listen, hon, they are going to be after this jeep, so if you get out on foot, I’ll lead them away from you.” Then added, “The old section of town is just on the other side of those woods.”
Nadia opened the door and Sarah jumped out.
“Thank you,” said Sarah before she turned and fled into the woods.
Nadia turned back and stepped on the gas pedal. She hoped to get as far away from the woods as possible before they caught up. Suddenly, the low drumming sound of a helicopter swooped above her. The glare from a spotlight momentarily blinded her as she drove recklessly on. Bullets ricocheted around the jeep and she swerved to avoid hitting another jeep that came suddenly from the left. A barrage of fire destroyed her jeep’s tires and she careened to a stop before a blockade of vehicles. Agents surrounded the vehicle and dragged her out. She stood in front of a man with silvery-white hair.
“Dr. Nadia Peterson, I presume,” said Davidson. “Where is the girl?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Nadia.
Davidson pulled out a pistol and fired. Nadia felt a searing pain in her left leg and collapsed. She lifted her head to face him.
“I will ask you one more time,” said Davidson coldly. “Where is the girl?”
“I…”
“Don’t…”
“Know…”
Another shot rang out, and Nadia Peterson’s vision faded into darkness.
Sarah was running as fast as she could through the woods when she heard gunshots behind her. They had gotten Dr. Peterson. Sarah tried to hold back the tears. She could hear the sounds of footsteps trailing her. Suddenly the trees cleared away to reveal an abandoned street and the entrance to a subway some metres away. She ran towards the subway station. Behind her, someone shouted. Sarah ran down the steps and into the deserted station. At the far end of the tunnel, a brilliant light was drawing near.
Thomas lifted from his deep contemplation as the train decelerated. He looked up through the windows and stood up. A girl suddenly appeared and ran towards the opening doors. A man in a black suit leapt out from behind her and grabbed her foot as she struggled to enter the train. Thomas had seen that uniform before, and for a moment he was paralysed with fear, his hand in his pocket holding tightly on to his father’s pistol. Even though the man was only three metres away, he was too busy struggling with the girl to notice Thomas. Without thinking, Thomas whipped out the pistol and pointed it at the man. The man looked up and instinctively moved his hand to his holster. A shot rang out. The man flew back out onto the platform and lay motionless. The girl scampered into the railcar and stared open-eyed at Thomas. He dropped the gun to the floor; he had never killed anyone before.
The doors closed and the train started moving again. From the windows, Thomas could see another man in black arrive and go to the body on the platform. Then the tunnel walls hid them from sight. Thomas stood there frozen, holding the crying girl in his arms, as they were whisked away to safety.