James Knapp: State of Decay

The names continued to peel off. This was a much larger change than the ones I had witnessed before; at least fifteen names were removed.

What do you mean “some are still unaccounted for”? How many?

Seventy-two and counting.

Fawkes was behind this. He had to be. He knew revivor technology intimately; he would know how to infect the command matrix. Whatever he was up to, this was part of it.

That connection trace—

One step ahead of you. I followed it back to a site called Fioplex right here in the city. It’s an underground factory that used to produce optical cable, but it’s been shut down now for almost a decade.

You’re sure?

Yes. Once we pinpointed the site, we did a satellite scan and detected electrical activity down there, way too much to be noise. Someone’s using a lot of juice. You think whoever’s been bringing in the illegal revivors and tapping into Heinlein’s system is also directing the rogue PH soldiers?

He’s not doing it on his own.

The question remained, though: why? Samuel Fawkes might have the knowledge to take control of a large group of revivors—he’d already demonstrated he could take control of one—but he wouldn’t do it for nothing. If that was his intent all along and he just needed more revivors than he could bring in illegally, then the purpose of the attacks leading up to this point might have been to pressure the authorities into doing exactly what they did: deploy the National Guard with a compliment of PH soldiers. It would be one of the only set of circumstances under which anyone would ever see so many revivors out of stasis on American soil. Was this what he wanted all along?

There’s something else down there too , Sean said. Thermal signatures, a bunch of them.

Living people?

Quite a few of them.

Thanks, Sean. Keep me informed.

Will do.

I tapped Calliope’s helmet.

“What?” she yelled over the engine.

“Forget the apartment. Head toward the industrial sector!”

“What about your friend?”

“Change of plan!”

I remembered falling, and my head hurt like it had hit the floor, but when I opened my eyes I was sitting down in a folding chair. The white light was gone, and it had gotten very quiet.

Looking around, I saw I was back in the green concrete room, a single fluorescent light flickering above my head. The table was in front of me, and down at the far end were three figures, the first two kind of hanging limp in the dark and the last one standing with a light shining down on her from the ceiling.

This isn’t real. I’m not really here. I’m back in the cell….

The green room wasn’t real. Whatever happened back in the real world, it zapped me into a vision.

We’re recording. Open the gate.

That’s what the guy said right before it happened…. Another consciousness rushed into my head all at once, filling my brain with her thoughts. She pounced like she’d been struggling to reach someone for a long time and finally got the chance.

Whoever she was, she was in pain and she was desperate. When her mind flooded mine, I had the feeling she couldn’t see me and didn’t know who or where I was. It didn’t matter that it was me; it didn’t matter who I was. I was someone—anyone—who might be able to help her.

She wasn’t just calling out for help; she was trying to dominate me. She was using the same abilities I used on others all the time. When she tried to take control, I reflexively threw a wall up between us. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the chair.

The chair legs scraped across the floor as I pushed it back and stood up. When I looked around, I saw the metal door that led out of the room was hanging open. A woman was standing in the doorway, but she was pushed up against the empty space like there was an invisible wall. She had really hollow cheekbones and sunken eyes. Her hair was ratty, and her forehead was pressed to the invisible wall like it was too heavy for her to hold up straight. I could see two big flaps of skin draping down over either side of her neck, and the whole back of her skull and top of her spine were exposed. A square hole had been sawed in the bone, and a bunch of long needles stuck up out of the hole like she was a human pincushion.

I made myself step closer. There were three star tattoos near one of her eyes.

I know that face. She’d appeared to me before.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She was saying something, over and over. I couldn’t hear her, but I could make it out when I watched her lips.

Help me, please help me. Get me out of here….

When I looked close, I could see very faint, very thin threads of light trailing from my head and stretching out between us. I followed them to the ends of the needles.

We’re recording. Open the gate.

“I know you,” I said.

She was the one that showed up in my bathroom, back before I met Nico. She told me that I’d end her pain. She was like me. The ones who took me, they did this. They connected us together. They wired us up so they could watch this happen.

“Why are they doing this?” I asked out loud, but she looked as though she couldn’t hear me.

“Your place is with us,” a voice said from behind me. I turned around and saw what I thought at first was a little boy, but it turned out to be a very small Asian woman with a short haircut. She was standing off to the side where the dead woman with the split heart usually stood, and was dressed in a smart little navy skirt and suit coat with a white blouse. Her shoes and clothes all looked very expensive, and if the diamonds in her jewelry were real, then they must have cost a fortune. Her tiny nails were manicured and painted, and her makeup was carefully applied so that she almost looked pretty, but her lips and eyes were a little fishlike and her head was too big for her body.

“You were in the picture,” I said. She was in one of the photos Nico had left with me, the one my neighbor was interested in. She looked around the room, her eyes settling on the figures against the far wall.

“I’m not really here,” she said. “Neither of us is; this is a construct of your mind. You are alone, and you are in great danger. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“The people who have taken you set up this facility in order to learn how our minds work. No one here will survive what is to come except for you, but only if you do what I say. Do you understand?”

There was something about her stare. I found myself nodding again.

“Yes.”

“Your life doesn’t have to be as pathetic as it is,” she said offhandedly. “People with less have achieved more.”

She gestured for me to follow as she moved toward the three figures. I moved around the other side of the table to join her.

The first two figures were Nico and the woman, the dead one with the broken heart that he had with him in the storage room. They both looked limp, like they were hanging from hooks. Her eyes were closed, but his were just a little bit open, orange light flickering behind them as they watched me.

“Why are they in the dark?” I asked.

“You failed them.”

“No—”

“You failed them.”

My face burned as I looked at Nico peering down at me. It wasn’t true. Maybe I failed the woman, but not him.

My eyes blurred and I felt tears run down my cheeks. The little woman didn’t seem to notice or care; she just turned to the last one, the one that was still lit. It was that ugly, muscular woman, the mean-looking one with the short hair. The light over her got a little brighter.