Dire Means (52 page)

He clicked through the security controls for the Nest and removed every Trail Bladers’ permission from every door in the Nest. He then assigned full-access permissions to himself for every door in the Nest, trucks and garage.

At the bottom of the screen, a red icon read, “Full Lockdown—Requires Exit Authentication”. Mark was about to click it when motion on a video screen took his attention. It showed Teddy walking in the hallway. He had left the Mulching Room a moment before and was headed for Pop’s office. Mark clicked the button for Full Lockdown and cursed when he realized he had been a moment too late to have included Teddy.

On Bracks’s desk phone, he saw an intercom button for Pop’s office. He pressed it and said, “Morana, Teddy is on his way—I see him on the monitor.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of him. Just hurry—get that garage unlocked—are you close?”

“Yes, almost.”

Through the intercom, Mark heard Teddy’s knock on Aldred’s door. The intercom went dead when Morana hung up.

Mark searched for a video feed of the interior of Pop’s office, but found none.

He examined a computer cabinet adjacent to Bracks’s desk. Its door had a clear Plexiglas panel with a locked latch. Inside, Mark could see several rack servers, routers and switches. On the far side fifteen external hard drives were stacked like black paperbacks. A label beneath them read, “Audio/Video Archives and Fodder Prep.”

After Mark searched the obvious areas of Bracks’s desk for a key to the cabinet, he pulled the meat cleaver from the wall and smashed the Plexiglas window of the door. He unplugged power to the external hard drives—careful to leave the other equipment powered. He put them into the laundry sack that had contained his laptop and then tucked it back under Bracks’s desk.

With his laptop in one hand, and Bracks’s hand in the other, he cautiously made his way back to Aldred’s office.

Chapter Twenty

WHEN MORANA OPENED the door, Mark saw that Pop’s cart was open. Morana had tied his hands and gagged him.

“Help me close him in—he keeps pushing the door with his knee,” she said as she went back to Pop.

“What happened with Teddy?” Mark asked.

Morana pointed to the corner of the office behind Mark. He gasped. Teddy’s body was curled into a grotesque ball leaning against the wall. He rested on the back of his neck, rolled like a wheel—as if stuck in an unfinished summersault. His shirt was blood-soaked. Mark saw four bullet holes haloed by splatter a few feet above the body.

“Did he attack you?” Mark asked, trying to keep calm.

“Teddy isn’t on our side, Mark. He never was,” she said calmly, and turned back to Pop.

Mark ended his questioning and went to the cart to help Morana slam its door shut.

She grabbed his shoulder and turned him toward her. “Did you unlock the garage?”

Mark looked on Pop’s desk and saw the handgun.

“No. We need one more password.”

Morana pounded her hand on Pop’s cart. “Hurry,” she snapped and pointed to Pop’s computer.

While Morana paced, Mark took the magnetic TellTale adapter from his pocket and hovered it over the pens in Pop’s pen holder. One pen levitated and snapped to it. Mark swallowed and sighed—relieved.

When he touched a key on Pop’s computer, a login prompt appeared, waiting for a password. Mark booted up his laptop and rocked in his chair—as if willing the laptop to hurry. He removed the end of the TellTale pen and inserted the adapter into his laptop.

He launched the TellTale software that his friend Carlos had written and waited for a connection to the device. An image flashed on the screen, but it was black. Mark mumbled, “Oh no,” under his breath.

Morana rushed over to look over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” she asked—her voice panicked.

“One more minute,” Mark said. He bit his lip as he typed. The black image perplexed him for a moment, and then it happened. He saw the same password prompt that showed on Pop’s screen. The TellTale had, indeed, recorded. An on-screen keyboard appeared. Pop, in his paranoia over having his keystrokes discovered, used a clickable on-screen image of a keyboard to enter his password—a method perfect for TellTale to record. Mark watched Pop’s mouse click the letters
U-t-0-p-I-a
.

Mark turned from his laptop to Pop’s computer and tried it. “That’s it, we’re in,” he said.

“Open the garage now,” Morana said.

Before Mark could answer, they heard a familiar beeping sound and both looked at Pop’s handheld on the floor. Mark picked it up and saw its screen for the first time. It showed a password box. Mark typed
U-t-0-p-I-a
and then the screen read, “Thank you,” and then showed an icon of an eyeball.

Mark held the handheld up to his face. It beeped and a message read, “Authentication Failed.” A timer on the screen began counting down from 59: 59…58…57.

“What’s that?” Morana said.

“It’s an iris scan,” Mark replied. “He must use his eyes in addition to a password to reset this timer.”

“That’s what keeps the Nest from exploding,” Morana said.

They looked at the cart that held Pop. Morana unlatched it and swung the door open. Mark pulled Pop out by the collar, put him face up on the floor. Pop closed his eyes tightly as Mark mounted him and tried to position the handheld in front of Pop’s face.

“Jump off him and get ready, Mark. I’ll open his eyes with a Taser,” Morana said.

As Mark began to stand, Pop pulled his untied hands from underneath him and swung, hitting Mark’s hand. The handheld flew across the carpet. While they both scrambled for it, Morana readied her Taser gun. Pop reached the handheld before Mark and threw it hard at the wall. It shattered to pieces. Pop pulled off his gag and laughed before Morana’s Taser probes found him. He fell to his side—again—screaming in pain, yet his expression had the hint of a smile. When Morana released the trigger, Pop’s body went limp and he coughed, “We’ll all be dead in less than an hour.”

“Now what?” Morana said to Mark.

“With the password, I can open the garage from Bracks’s office, but we’re taking him out of here alive,” Mark said, pointing to Pop’s cart.

Morana didn’t argue. “In the cart, Aldred,” she said.

Pop didn’t refuse, obeying Morana with the same compliance she had secured from so many fodder. Mark bound and gagged Pop tightly before they closed him in. This time Morana locked the latch with a padlock. She swung her bag over her shoulder, took the gun from Pop’s desk and shoved it inside. They rolled Pop’s cart to the hallway.

“Where’s Janne—I need to find Janne!” Mark said.

“She’s in a holding room—it’s the second door on the end, but we can’t afford—”

“We’re not leaving without her,” Mark said.

“Fine, it’s on the way out,” Morana conceded.

They stopped the cart by Janne’s room. Morana placed her bag on top of Pop’s cart and then pulled Bracks’s severed hand from it. She placed the hand on the console for entry. Mark said nothing as he watched it fail. He felt his pulse race as he realized he’d have to show Morana his access.

Morana spread Bracks’s pale fingers out on the glass and tried again, but the console didn’t respond. “What’s going on?” she muttered. She then tried her own hand—nothing.

Mark placed his hand on the glass console. Light flashed under it and the door clicked open. Janne sat in a chair, hugging her bag. She shrieked at the sight of Mark and ran to him in the doorway. Makeup streaked her face. They hugged.

“We’re getting out of here,” Mark said. Janne could only nod as she wiped her face and held onto Mark.

“Come on. We don’t have time for a reunion party,” Morana said.

Then a loud bang startled them all. They heard it again—and then another. The sound vibrated the walls of the Nest and became rhythmic. Distant voices shouted between each impact.

“It’s coming from the Mulching Room,” Morana said. She looked at the console suspiciously and tilted her head. “Mark, were you able to lock the Mulching Room from Bracks’s office? Did you already change the security permissions?”

Before Morana could move, Mark grabbed her bag from the top of Pop’s cart and threw it into Janne’s holding room. Morana charged, but couldn’t reach him before he pulled the door shut. Mark grabbed Morana’s arms and slammed her against the wall.

“We’re all leaving together,” Mark said. “And we’re taking the surviving fodder with us.”

“Get your hands off me!” Morana said through gritted teeth.

Mark released her arms and stepped back.

“There is no time to rescue anyone else!” Morana yelled. “If those Bladers break out before this place explodes, we have no weapons and they’ll kill us—I’m sure Teddy prepped them on our execution!”

Mark checked his watch. “If they don’t break out, then we have at least fifty minutes.”

Morana’s face flashed new rage. “Don’t be an idiot! We will die.”

Janne chimed in. “Mark, I think we should leave. Let’s go. I want out and I want out now—
please
.”

Mark shook his head and turned to Morana. “I’ve tolerated his ‘mission’ crap on the chance that I could save lives.” He kicked the side of Pop’s cart. “And now I have 49 minutes to make my complicity in this nightmare worthwhile. I’m not leaving without the survivors. You can help me rescue them, or I can take up to an hour to figure out how to do it myself.”

Morana’s face changed suddenly. It softened. She released a small laugh. “Why go to this extreme, Mark?” she said as she stepped closer to him. “So far we’ve worked together.” She raised her arms in front of her, wrists limp to hug him. Mark stepped back.

“We’re wasting time; let’s get to work,” Janne said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Morana continued. “Mark, Sweetie, listen, you wouldn’t be in control if it wasn’t for me,” Morana persisted. She pulled her hair behind her shoulders and leaned slightly to one side with the smile that had intoxicated so many men. “C’mon, Mark, I made myself completely vulnerable to you, yet you can’t return that trust? Instead you make me your prisoner? I told you that I wanted to end the killing. I’d like nothing more than to see the innocent go free.”

Mark nodded and said, “Good. Then we have the same goal. What difference does it make how we get there?”

“Touché,” Morana said, her smile vanished. She turned and began toward the garage. Mark motioned for Janne to follow. At the foyer door, Mark placed his hand on the rarely used exit console and the door obeyed, clicking open. Morana pushed Pop’s cart in, then went to wait beside the Sty’s red door.

“Janne, you come with me,” Mark said. They locked Morana and Pop in the foyer and returned to Bracks’s office. Two steps in, Janne screamed and clapped her hand over her mouth at the sight of Bracks’s body.

“The woman that just accused me of not trusting her did that,” Mark said as he sat down at the computer. “That’s why you are here with me and not alone with her.”

Janne turned and faced the closed door, now both hands over her face. As Mark typed on the keyboard and tested the joystick, Janne finally said, “I’m so proud of you, but please do this quickly.”

“I will. And if we live, I may need your help with the press again.”

“Just work,” Janne urged. “Whatever you need, we’ll talk later.”

Mark used Bracks’s computer to open the Sty entrance in the foyer. On screen he watched Morana step inside. He moved the tether over the first oubliette while Morana opened and leaned over it. She latched the ends of the tether together to make a sling and then hollered something down into the opening. Mark moved the joystick and the tether descended. Morana raised her hand and the straps went taut, lifting a woman out. The woman’s arms hung loosely around the straps that had lifted her and her head sagged. Morana guided her to the dirt floor beside the oubliette’s mouth where Mark lowered her to a gentle landing.

They repeated the process for eight other oubliettes. Some newly freed fodder could barely walk, others crawled. Morana waved off the tethers for several of the oubliettes. Mark carefully checked their heat sensors and understood why.

Finally, he saw Morana signal that they had retrieved all the living fodder. He checked the time. They had fourteen minutes to be clear of the Nest. He picked up the laundry bag that contained all of Pop’s video coverage of the Trail Bladers’ activities and logs with information on the fodder. He slung it over his shoulder and they left.

On their way to the foyer entrance, Mark noticed that the pounding from the Mulching Room had ceased. He took Janne’s arm and they stopped—listening. The Nest was dead quiet. Then, slowly, they neared an intersection of hallways. Mark got a sick feeling that they might not make it to the foyer. He lowered the laundry bag containing the hard drives from his shoulder and prepared to swing it. Janne moved behind him and placed her hand on his back. He somehow expected to round the corner only to see an army of angry Trail Bladers lying in wait.

A loud crash broke the silence—jolting them, and then the distant banging resumed—louder. They heard cheering as if some progress had given the trapped Trail Bladers new hope.

Mark placed his hand on the exit console and they entered the foyer, joining nine weak men and women sitting or lying on the floor. In their midst sat a large metal cart. Unbeknownst to them, it contained the bound and gagged designer of their cruel fate. Morana stood just inside the sty—in the shadows.