This is a continuation of the Council of Elders story and happens immediately after the last chapter. Don't worry – you will find out what happened to Fenris, Caesar and Owen. I've decided to go for 1st person this time because I think it's a lot better for stories with only one perspective. I think you'll find this is a lot darker than the first part of the trilogy, both in terms of the things that happen and the actual characters themselves.
The quiet of the night was broken by screaming. I could hear it echoing in the darkness that led to my cell on the basement level. The stuttering of gunfire was added to the noise that slowly crept closer and closer to me. What the hell was going on out there? A riot? A breakout? Loud footfalls approached my locked door and I walked over to it. The absence of light meant that the person on the other side was practically invisible through the slot that provided my only sight into the outside of my cell.
"Inmate 626!" the familiar scratchy voice sounded breathless and shit-scared.
- That's my name, don't wear it out. After being shipped to this god-forsaken place, the name I used to have stopped mattering. The guards called me 626, the inmates called me 626, even the priest who came to give me my last rites called me 626.
"Why if it ain't my old friend, the Warden." I chuckled darkly, "What brings you to a condemned man's room so late in the evening?"
"Can the attitude, asshole." The light from a torch blinded me momentarily and I had to blink away the stars that filled my vision. "The whole world's gone crazy and we're getting orders from on high to prioritise evac for the most dangerous prisoners."
As the sole current resident of this particular penitentiary's death row, I guessed that had to mean I was the guy with the golden ticket out of this dump. The Warden was always the one to keep his head, no matter the situation. I wondered what exactly had Warden James in quite such a state.
"Now Warden, you know I couldn't hurt a fly. Why just last week I slit ole' 739's throat for stepping on a spider. S'bad luck, don't you know."
"Inmate 739 is still thanking his lucky stars for the continued use of his vocal chords." At this, the Warden's breath hitched in his throat. "Anyway, I've been given the joy of escorting you from the premises."
"Don't I deserve to know why I'm being rescued from my confinement? The only reason I'm still here is because of divine intervention." This wasn't quite true, but a superstitious man like Warden James would have to see the sudden and unprecedented malfunction of the lethal injection machine as an act of God.
"The hell if they'll tell me anything! Now stick your arms out of the slot so I can cuff `em." I did as instructed. The longer I had him believing in my cooperation, the more time I had to think of an escape plan. "And no funny business, you hear?"
"Of course not, Warden. Of course not." The bolts were slid back from the heavy cell door and it swung open to reveal the stout figure of Warden James, clutching his flashlight like it was his only chance at life. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to move. "So where are we headed?"
He said nothing, just shoved me in the small of my back down the corridor, toward the illuminated emergency exit sign. I considered simply turning around and providing him with a swift kick in the balls, but then I'd never get my answers, would I?
"You know, I've always wondered what was on the floor below the basement. A car park? A burning lake of fire?" Still no reply from my responsible adult. Ah well, never mind.
We walked in silence after that, though the Warden would stiffen noticeably whenever more shots rang out in the distance. We reached the stairwell at the end of the corridor and he shone his torch downward at a door simply marked `AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.'
He went first, either remarkably brave or stupid considering I could have pushed him down and at the very least given him a concussion. Something was very wrong with this entire situation and it had him spooked enough that he was willing to break protocol in favour of haste. Instead of acting immediately, I decided to follow him without an attempt at his life. The only way I would get out of there was with his assistance, so I might as well play along for the time being.
He jangled momentarily with his key-ring as we stood in front of the door connecting me to my freedom. After an age, he found the right one and unlocked the door. He opened the door and gestured for me to go through before him. I hesitated, but another burst of gunfire came from behind us and it was closer than ever. He pushed me roughly through the door and in the dim light of the new room I could see the terror etched on his face.
"What the fuck is going on? Why are there people shooting each other up there?" Once again, my questions fell on deaf ears. He was feverishly looking for something, his watery grey eyes darting around the room.
I took a moment to inspect my surroundings. It didn't seem to contain anything special. White walls, a low ceiling. Another door sat directly opposite to the one we came in through and I started to move toward it. It was like a vault door, heavy and probably a few feet thick, but it was our – my – only chance of getting out. I'm sure between the two of us we could-
"Don't take another step, 626." Warden James ordered. "If you want to get out of here alive then you're going to do exactly what I say." Ok. Now I was starting to get nervous. What was happening up there?
"Alright, just tell me what I can do." No sense being proud if the shit had hit the fan. Here was a man who knew how to help me and I would be damned if I let my natural affinity for sarcasm get in the way.
He gave me a genuine smile of relief, something I never thought I would see again. I tried to mimic his expression, but I hadn't smiled properly in a long time and he simply grinned at my attempt. He told me to look for something that seemed as though it didn't belong there, something out of place.
"What exactly does that mean?" A hint of frustration entering my voice.
"I'm not quite sure. I don't get told anything. Bloody politicians." He grumbled indecipherably to himself. "The instructions I got are only useful once we get through the door.
I gave the room another once-over, but nothing caught my eye until-
"There!" I shouted, pointing at a slight change in the colour of the paint on the walls.
"What are you talking about?" He asked, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in hue. I wasn't surprised that he had missed it. I wasn't even sure why it had been so apparent to me.
He walked over to it and pressed his thumb into an unnoticeable indentation in the wall where I had pointed. There was a soft whirring and clicking behind the wall where he was standing.
A calm, female voice filled the room. "Identity confirmed. Welcome back, Warden James."
The other door swung open and Warden James raced through, dragging me behind him.
"Seal the exit!" He cried out, to no one in particular. "Security Protocol Phi-Mu-Gamma!" The door slammed shut immediately and he collapsed to the floor, sagging like all the air had left him.
"What would have happened if I had touched the door?" I asked, feeling very thankful that I had obeyed him when instructed. He didn't respond, he just unstrapped his watch and threw it at the door.
"Unidentified material detected." The female voice spoke again. "Deploying countermeasures."
Before the watch had even touched the door, it disintegrated into a pile of ashes that settled on the ground. I swallowed the bile that had collected at the back of my throat. That had been close.
"Thanks." I said, knowing that the next step I had taken towards the door would have been my last.
"You're welcome. I'm not going to let you die before the state of Colorado says you will." Ah, ever the law abiding citizen.
"So what now?" I asked him, feeling more than a little faint.
"Now, we wait." I gave him a look that told him I wasn't satisfied with that answer. "For the cavalry to arrive."
"So what exactly are we hiding from?" He shrugged his shoulders and for some reason I believed that he was just as clueless as I was.
From what I could tell, we were in some kind of bunker. It had a much higher ceiling than the previous room and it was well lit by sconces built into the walls every few feet. There was a definite sci-fi feel to the place and I was determined to find out why it was underneath some prison in Bumfuck, Colorado.
Warden James didn't appear to be in any mood to talk. He was sat at a computer terminal and was typing agitatedly. He suddenly roared in anger and threw his hands up in the air. This gesture of rage might have been more impressive if he hadn't been half a foot shorter than me, which considering I was 5'11 on a good day made him pretty darn short.
The man was a good decade my senior, with thinning salt and pepper hair and a cleanly shaven face. I knew he had a wife, 41, and two kids, twin 12 year old boys, whom he loved dearly. He once told me that he loved his job – awful as it was – because it meant he was keeping them safe. He was so upsettingly pure of heart.
Despite the odd positions we had within the prison hierarchy, I like to think we got on well. I behaved – for the most part – and didn't give him too much angst. I felt guilty about slashing 739 the previous week because I know Warden James had been angling to get me some perks for my final days: TV privileges etc.
I definitely didn't ever threaten his family as some of the less honourable inmates were inclined to do. He was disgusted by what I had done, but then so was I to a certain extent. Well, no, I was disgusted that I had gotten caught, but that's neither here nor there.
"So if you don't know what's going on, then who told you to come and spring me?" I asked.
"I got a call about a half hour ago saying that you were to be transferred to a maximum security location and that I was to hold you in here until the transport unit arrived. They said that this was a Level Zero priority and that I should do as ordered regardless of anything else. I was halfway to your cell when the lights went out and about a minute later the shooting started."
"What were you doing on the computer?"
"Getting nowhere. I tried to get a call to head office, to ask for assistance for the guards, but the number was jammed."
There was something he wasn't saying. Something he had seen that had made him this shaken. I doubt he'd take much comfort from a condemned man, but wanted to do something. Before I could open my mouth, however, the female voice spoke again.
"Outer door breached. Error Code 52. Evacuation is recommended."
"Fuck." Warden James seemed to sum up the entire situation with that one syllable. He seemed to crumble where he stood. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. When he opened them again they were shining with unshed sadness.
"What does that mean? What's happened?" I was genuinely afraid now, something I was unaccustomed to.
He turned to me and told me to run further into the bunker until I found a hatch in the wall. I was to climb in and to lock the hatch behind me. Above my head there should be a keypad and I was to enter the first three digits of my Prisoner ID into it.
"Do NOT turn back. Ever. Keep running. I don't know why they think you're so fucking important, but you keep running." He drew his H&K 9mm from its holster and turned to face the door. "GO!"
I ran. Faster than I've ever run in my entire life, fuelled by adrenaline and fear. I kept running even when I heard six bullets fired in quick succession. I kept running even when I heard the gut-wrenching yell of pain and fury and hate. I kept running even when I heard the last, single shot that promised an end to the agony.
I ran until my lungs burned and when I finally found the hatch I felt dizzy. It swung open to meet me and I dove in. I turned and slammed it behind me, turning the handle-wheel until I heard a satisfying clunk. I looked up and saw a small LED screen with nine keys beneath it. I was just about to punch in the code that would hold the secret to saving my life, when I heard a muffled snarl. There was a small window in the hatch, like a port-hole, and through it I could make out a face.
It was Warden James. I was so relieved that I started to turn the handle back. Something made me hesitate though. There was something wrong with that face. The eyes were rolling, unfocused. The mouth was hanging down, with drool slobbering from the open maw.
"Warden?" I whispered. "Is that you?"
The eyes stopped roaming and looked at me, alight with animal rage and... hunger? I moved my head forward so my forehead was resting on the thick glass of the porthole. Warden James' body was covered in blood and there were definite bite marks on his arms. Something told me that it wasn't him anymore. Whatever it was, it was not Warden James.
The Warden gave a sudden cry, an inhuman sound, and began banging on the door, making bloody marks on the glass. He was trying to get in. I looked up again and saw the keypad.
6-2-6.
That's my name, don't wear it out.