Eight Hours Later

  White light burned across the side of his face, forcing him to roll his head over. Steel storage units and tables had been pushed against a grey wall, filled or covered with any array of glass vials and tubes that he could barely understand.

  “We’ll be waiting for the adrenaline to wear off before we continue with the tests.”

  Gritting his teeth, Ian clenched his fists. He wanted to sit up, but his body wouldn’t budge. All he could do was glare at the leather strap on his bare arm that trapped him in place, one of four such restraints biting into his skin every time he tried to move an inch. Not only that, but a sharp, ever present ache pulsed like a wave up and down his body. It weakened him, sapping his energy and strength, something he could use to break out.

  A shape drifted at the corner of his vision, “Just getting the second sample… why are we doing this again?” came a second voice.

  “It’s standard procedure.” Replied the first.

  “Of course.” Uttered the second with a hint of discontent.

  Ian adjusted his gaze. A scientist stood over him, wearing a lab coat that was only just disguising a woollen fleece underneath. He leaned over, and Ian picked up a faint prick that sent shivers running up his arm. “Subject still has a pain response.” Observed the first, hidden scientist as the needle, filled with crimson fluid, rose into view in the grasp of the scientist Ian could see.

  “Yeah.” Ian replied weakly. “I do have that…”

  The second man chuckled, the syringe nearly slipping from his hand. But then he froze, and the chuckle faded away. “And the subject remains talkative.” noted the first scientist.

  He rolled his head over to glare up at the senior scientist. He wore an identical lab coat, but his hair was already greying, a hint at his actual age. “Got to be.” Ian uttered, willing some venom into his tone, “After all I’m only human.”

  The scientist merely narrowed his eyes, more… disappointed rather than angered as he stepped away.

  Huffing, Ian stared at the featureless walls. Even as the scientists had prodded and poked at his body, pumping him with unknown drugs… he had tried to keep up some form of emotion. He shouted at them and tried to reason with them, even tossing in the odd joke just to make them stop and think for a moment. He had managed to get under the skin of the younger scientist, only for something to tighten him back up. Probably that bloody automaton of a boss.

  He closed his eyes; they should have stayed out of this whole mess. He should have doubled down in the meeting, convinced Jack and Liana to change their minds. But no, instead they had all wandered straight into this trap. How did they even know they were coming?

  The gunshots and that scream kept drumming in his ears. If only he had…

  He shook his head, redirecting his gaze towards the wall. No, I can’t blame myself for this. We were all tricked.

  Hefting his head up with a grunt, he glanced down his exposed chest. What I need to do, is to get out of here.

  Before him, the two scientists were now working at the far side of the room. Past them, a steel door blocked his path. He tugged at the restraints again, only for the leather to creak. He bit his lip, even if he could break free of them, he had to get past those two scientists and the guards almost certainly creeping around… wherever he was. Was he even in the same building? He had to hazard the guess that he was still in Birmingham at least.

  He tugged once more at the restraints, but then his skull started to pound and his muscles ached. Groaning, Ian slumped back down on the table. Even if I could do all that, these damn drugs aren’t helping me! Even if I had the strength to break out, everything else just feels… wrong. I might faceplant if I tried to run now.

  That was when he heard them. Shouts. Muffled and distant. He would have barely registered them at all but one thing was certain. They were getting louder…

  Lifting his head back up, he could see the two scientists twisting towards the steel door. Not just me then…

  The shouts crept up ever more, rising in volume and closing even more until at last, someone pounded on the door. “Open up!” came the muddled cry, “We’ve got a problem! We need to leave!”

  The two scientists cast a swift glance between each other before the younger of the two scrambled for the door and swung it open. “What’s going on?”

  A new scientist barged inside; she wore a simple black fleece, yanking a trolley through with her. Her eyes were wide and her voice quivered with panic. “The Ferals are attacking the walls!”.

  Ian’s gut tightened.

  Shit.

  “Impossible.” The elder scientist questioned, “We were told- “

  “They tricked us again.” She countered with a hiss, “It’s a full Horde! They managed to catch the defenders off guard!”

  “Have they broken through the wall?” asked the younger of the two men, waving a hand around. The newcomer glared at him, “Not yet, but no one is taking chances. Hagen already gave the word to pack it up!” She shoved past him, Ian’s eyes tracking her as she started to scoop up the vials and other equipment. “And he meant everything.”

  “Alright!” exclaimed the second, “Just give us a hand.” Dashing over to the other side, he began to do the same.

  Ian squirmed, managing to lift his head another inch. The urge to fire off some kind of retort grew, even if his original intent was try and hear what was being shouted in the corridors. Ian felt his heart began to pound. The threat of Ferals attacking Burningham had always been there, Ed had gone to great lengths to warn the team of that, but even Ian assumed that the worst of the Feral attacks had passed.

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  Restless to break free, Ian mentally cursed at his restraints again. Forget about me getting eaten by the damn Ferals here! If Jack, Liana and the rest of the team somehow got out alive, they’ll be surrounded by Ferals anytime now!

  Flustered, he bit his tongue, but not before noticing the first scientist drift over to the newcomer by the tables. A low murmur rose between them, almost too faint to make out over the clanging of glass. Frowning, Ian shifted slightly and tried to block out the surrounding noise, to focus on the words.

  “…he told me to give you this… know what it means.”

  “I do. I’ll see it done.”

  Something fluttered between them, a slimmer of blue. But Ian didn’t get the chance to question it as the first scientist turned around back inwards, “Go to the evacuation. I will finalize things here.”

  The second scientist dumped a microscope onto the trolley, only to freeze as his superior’s words were processed properly. “But… the Ferals…” he started to splutter, turning towards the other scientists.

  “I will head up once the work is complete.” He interrupted, eyes narrowing. “Now go. Both of you.”

  The younger man glanced at the newcomer; a questioning look written across his face. But she could only shake her head.

  In silence, the two hurried out of the room, bringing the trolley with them. The remaining scientist pushed the door shut with a heavy clunk. Ian twisted his head round to track him, his neck creaking and sending a pulse running back up to his skull.

  “Hagen’s ordered you to do something hasn’t he?” Ian asked.

  The scientist paused at a table, as if the question had just jammed a set of gears. But then he continued, the odd ching of glass and metal faintly registering in his ears. “That is his name, right?”

  A moment later, the cold reply came, “Very astute.”

  He turned to reveal a single large syringe, filled to the brim with pale blue fluid that seemed unreflective, almost matte like in appearance.

  Something about it felt… off… too synthetic. Something that shouldn’t be real.

  “What is that?”

  “A vector.” The scientist stated. “We have spent years working on perfecting this.”

  There’s that word again. Ian noted, chafing in the restraints, Vector.

  “Perfecting?” he questioned with a frown. This is going to be like pulling teeth. “What is it?”

  The man stepped forward, “It doesn’t matter. All I can say is that the doctor believes that you will be the ideal candidate.”

  His fists screwed up into balls as the scientist took another step forward, “I’m a human being.” Ian uttered; eyes locked on the man. “You could just let me go. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know. Which is why I must do this.”

  Now next to him, the scientist began to lower the instrument towards him.

  Baring his teeth, Ian threw himself up, thrashing himself left and right. Come on! Come loose!

  “Think of it this way.” The man started, “If this works, you will have secured your place in history.”

  Ian bit back at him, “I don’t care!” he roared, trying to kick some leg free. Anything!

  “I’m sorry to hear that then.”

  Ian’s neck nearly cracked as the hand rammed his head down. He tried to throw it back up, screaming to slip free.

  Something cold plunged into his neck.

  He struggled, once more yanking at the restraints. But his vision began to blur, the bulb and tables morphing and splitting before him. W…what?

  The pounding returned, a gentle drumbeat that echoed in his skull. A cool shimmer ran down his limbs, hairs rose across his body. His stomach churned, threatening to fire up towards the surface and yet, it merely boiled away within.

  His limbs slumped, all sense and feeling fading away as the syringe slipped from his skin. The scientist was speaking again, but his words were already fading, intermingling with the shouts and orders slipping through the door.

  What… what has he done?! None of the other drugs were…

  Black blotches floated into view, growing larger until all Ian could see was the very familiar darkness.

  Knives stabbed into flesh, and Ian’s eyes snapped open. He gasped, his head springing up. But no knives were falling onto him. Nothing was. The scientist was seated on an office chair, scribbling into a notepad.

  As suddenly as they came, the pain faded away in a new ache, duller than before and tapping it’s way across his body like pins and needles. Black blotches still floated in vision, but he could tell they were beginning to shrink.

  “Hmm… I expected you to be out for longer.”

  Ian twisted his gaze around and locked onto the scientist, still seated as he casually ticked something off the pad. His muscles were stiff, but... they felt… stronger?

  “You should consider yourself lucky.” The scientist declared, standing up and placing the notepad to one side. “Most would already be dying at this point.”

  Dying? What?

  “And you don’t have to worry, the horde has made some gains but they haven’t broken through yet.”

  Ian lifted his head, “What the hell did you put into me?” he demanded. It felt like his muscles were burning now, but from rage or the drug, he didn’t care.

  “You will learn soon enough.” He replied, moving back over to one side of the room. “If you just remain calm, I can finish this work shortly.”

  Only so you can drag me off to another lab. Ian spat to himself. Between them and the Ferals I’ve got to get out. Now.

  He nearly cursed to himself though. Every time it always came back to the damned table and its restraints.

  A pulse ran down his arms. Restraints…

  He shot a glance towards one of them wrapped around his arm. However, he was noticing something else. The ache that ran though his muscles was now gone, and up to this point his body had been weak… pathetic. He could barely push against the straps without them either failing, or for Ian’s world to start spinning.

  But something itched at the back of his mind, they didn't just feel stronger, each muscle in his body seemed bigger at a glance. The drumming headache faded away and with that, he tugged at the restraint holding one of his arms

  Once more, the leather strap creaked. But Ian tried to block out the sound, instead focusing on the movement of the restraint itself. The leather stretched and tightened to hold him down. Nibbling his lip, Ian willed himself to lift his arm further.

  Incredibly, the limb rose another centimetre from the table. The leather strap was giving way. No… this is too thick. He looked down at the base of the restraint, pulling once more at it. As the leather rose, thin lines morphed across the surface and ran into the framework of the table itself.

  The fittings… if I could get them to snap, I don’t even need to worry about the straps themselves.

  That would be his ticket out of here.

  But could he even do that? He had already tried dozens of times.

  That itch returned, sharper and more vigorous than before. Demanding that he act.

  Well… Ian admitted, Only one way to find out.

  “I’m sure you have already heard this.” Stated the scientist, dragging the Merryhunter’s attention back across to him. “But this will make a difference. I hope that means something to you.”

  Ian glared back, Alright… now!

  His arm shot upwards, a thump echoing out. But the restraint held.

  The scientist frowned. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Shaking his head, he yanked it again. Another thump… sloppier this time.

  “In fact, you should feel proud.”

  He yanked again.

  And again.

  It still refused to give.

  The man leaned forward; eyes locked onto Ian. Once more. Everything you have. Something urged, gnawing in a dark corner of his consciousness.

  “Your sacrifice will go on to change humanity forever.”

  “Humanity?” Ian questioned; teeth clenched. “Honestly? I told you.” His fist clenched, nails digging into his palms. “I don’t care!”

  The limb shot up.

  Something snapped in his ear, and he sprung up.

  The scientist was too late as Ian’s fist smashed across his face.