TORMENT - A Novel of Dark Horror Read online

  Mia righted herself and Elizabeth so that their feet were once again facing the floor. The move sent a wave of nausea through her body, but it passed quickly. She came face to face with Chang as they both reached out for something to stop their movement. “You okay?” Mia asked once her movement had stopped.

  Chang nodded. “It’s just a hard concept to get used to—the end of the world, living in space, never finishing the final season DVD of Battlestar.”

  Mia smiled. She hadn’t liked Chang much when they first met. The woman had seemed uptight. But Mia could now see that had been her “at work” personality. This was the real Chang. A little goofy. Very clumsy. A Battlestar Galactica nerd. And they shared a sense of humor, even if it was inappropriate.

  “How about you?” Chang asked.

  How could she answer that question? Americans had a slew of standby answers to the question: Okay. Not bad. Same old, same old. They were reserved for small talk with strangers or reuniting with friends, but almost never were questions meant to garner anything other than one of the standard answers. Anything more became annoying. But now, America and its societal norms no longer existed. Besides, it seemed like Chang actually wanted to know. “My fiancé was Matthew Brenton.”

  A pang of guilt struck when she said the word fiancé. If life on Earth hadn’t come to an abrupt end and Matt had returned from the war, and learned the truth...? But the world had ended. Clean slate, right?

  Chang’s smile disappeared. “Oh.”

  “Yup.”

  “So...” Chang said. “Your fiancé is the scapegoat...for all of this.” Chang motioned toward a nearby portal with a view of the Earth.

  “I came to ask the president if he knew where Matt was being held or if he was even still alive. I know the answer to the second question now.” Mia noticed Elizabeth floating around their legs and smiled. “I’ve still got my Liz, though.”

  Elizabeth smiled and floated to one of the chairs. Chang lowered her voice. “Does she understand what’s happened? That her mother is...”

  Mia was impressed that Chang remembered Margo had been a single mom. But she probably had to remember little details like that all the time. “I’m going to avoid the subject for as long as possible. Children are supposed to be more adaptable...or flexible, or something, than adults, but she’s dealing with enough already, and she’s not talking much. I’ll wait for her to bring it up, if she decides to. Did you lose...have a lot of family?”

  “Actually, no. No husband. No kids. Only child. Mom died three years ago. Dad was an asshole.” Chang smiled. “The people in this room are the ones I saw most of the time for the past few years. The rest are probably floating in one of the other pods.”

  “Other pods made it?” Mia asked.

  “At least two of them,” Chang said. “That’s what the Byers brothers have been looking at.”

  “Then there are other survivors?”

  “Probably not many, but some, yeah.”

  Mia started moving toward the nearest far side portal to get a look for herself, when the steel door next to her clunked loudly as it unlocked and swung open. She bounced out of the way as Austin floated into the room. “Sorry,” he said. “The door didn’t hit you, did it?”

  Mia shook her head, no.

  “Good,” Austin said. “I need you for a minute.”

  “Me?” Mia asked. “Not one of them?” Mia motioned to the rest of the room.

  Austin looked around the rest of the room and frowned slightly. “Just you.” He looked at Chang. “Can you watch Liz?”

  Mia realized Tom was making an effort to be extra friendly, even using Elizabeth’s nickname, but she still felt uncomfortable that he wanted her, exclusively, to join him. “Why me?”

  Tom fixed his eyes on hers. “Now.” He slipped back through the door without another word. She looked back at Chang, whose face had lost some of its regained composure and asked, “Keep an eye on her?”

  Chang nodded. “No problem.”

  “You listen to Ms. Chang, Liz,” Mia said to Elizabeth. “I’ll be right back.”

  Elizabeth saluted in response, then floated over to Chang. “Can we talk to the president?”

  As Chang answered, Mia followed Austin through the door, wondering what he intended to talk about...or do...and in that instant, realized she was trapped in an oversized escape pod with a bunch of total strangers under extreme circumstances. If one of them went on a rampage, there would be no place to hide.

  As Austin locked the door behind her, she realized that if he intended to take advantage of the situation...of her...no one would come to her rescue. The loud hiss of the thick door being sealed told her no one would even hear her scream. As Tom pushed off the door and slid through the zero gravity tunnel, straight toward her, she prepared for a fight.

  12

  Mia braced herself against the tunnel wall as Austin drifted toward her, arms outstretched, hands open, ready to grab. Her thoughts turned toward her karate training. Before becoming a reporter and after a near death car accident in high school sidetracked what was almost a starlet singing career, she found a home in the martial arts. It began as physical therapy after the accident, but soon became a passion. She quickly became a black belt and began teaching adult and children’s classes of her own. The problem with karate instruction in rural New Hampshire is that it doesn’t pay the bills. She took a job with Foster’s Daily Democrat as a reporter, thanks to her night-school degree in English and a friend in circulation. The karate came in handy once, with an unruly interviewee, but she’d been out of practice since. As Austin’s thick hands reached out toward her, she wished she’d stuck with it. Not that it would do her much good in zero gravity.

  Just as Mia was about to lash out with a kick to his groin, Austin reached past Mia’s head, took a handhold and pulled himself further down the tunnel. “This way,” he said.

  Mia did her best to conceal her sigh of relief and focused on slowing her breathing as she followed after Austin. She couldn’t crack up now. She’d survived the worst the world had to offer and for Elizabeth’s sake, would do her damnedest to pull them through this and provide her with some semblance of a life.

  But what kind of life could she really offer the child? A life worth living? There were no other children. No trees or grass. No pets. She would grow up in a space the size of a large house, with no gravity, no fresh food, nothing that resembled any semblance of a human life on Earth. And all she’d have for company, aside from her aunt, was a small group of adults, at least one of whom was likely to go insane and kill the rest. Astronauts were screened, trained and mentally prepared for living like this, but this group...she doubted any of them, with the possible exception of Austin, had the right stuff.

  For a fraction of a moment she wondered if killing Liz and herself was the right thing to do. It would be merciful. But grossly wrong. The notion soured her stomach, helped along by the zero gravity. She felt herself losing control, the sinews that held her emotions in check were stretched tight and breaking one at a time.

  Ping.

  Ping.

  Ping.

  Don’t lose your fucking mind!she thought at herself. Liz deserves to live and you’re going to make damn sure her life is the best it can be, given the circumstances.

  She focused on moving instead of the hopelessly horrible life that awaited Liz. The stark white octagonal hallway stretched on for another ten feet before coming to a three way intersection, each direction blocked by a steel hatch. It was wide enough for two people to pass without collision, or float side-by-side. She passed under a recessed light and paused a few feet back from Austin, who opened the hatch leading left.

  “In here,” he said.

  Mia slid into the room behind Austin and found herself in a digital wonderland. The room held two comfortable looking chairs, bolted to the floor, covered in straps. Surrounding the chairs was an array of computer monitors, glowing buttons, gauges and a long window that provided a stunning and
horrific view of the molten Earth below. Austin took a seat and motioned her to take the other. She sat down next to him, but floated up a little.

  “Use the Velcro straps,” Austin said. “They’ll hold you down.”

  Mia took a pair of straps and pulled them tight over her thighs. She did the same around her waist. Strapped down and comfortable, Mia looked over at Austin. He sat silently, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. After nearly a minute, the silence and view of Earth began to drive her mad. “What is this place?”

  “Command center,” Austin said. He’d apparently been waiting for her to speak. “All the systems on board are controlled from here. Every room can be monitored, every hatch sealed, every light turned off and on. We can also see the status of Earth. We’ll know when it’s safe to return.”

  “Return?” Mia asked. “How will we ever return?”

  “The computer monitors Earth’s survivability, testing for radiation, breathable atmosphere, yadda, yadda, yadda. When it determines that it’s safe to return, it sounds a warning and ten minutes later we descend back to the surface in a free fall followed by parachutes. It’ll even put us back on U.S. soil.”

  Mia’s eyebrows rose. “Thanks for the detailed description, but that’s not what I meant.”

  Austin looked at her. “What did you mean?”

  “I mean, look at it,” Mia said, her voice raising an octave. She thrust an open palm toward the view of Earth below, still churning with destructive swirling clouds and stabs of luminous orange. “We destroyed the planet. There’s no going back.”

  Austin looked at the view and nodded. “Yeah...it looks like we’re screwed.” He looked at her and smiled. “But don’t tell anyone else that.”

  Mia shook her head and smirked. She couldn’t believe humor still existed, but as her smile grew, so did Austin’s. He flipped his hand like he was opening a notebook and began writing in it with an imaginary pen. “Note to self. Mia Durante. Finds global annihilation humorous. Subject requires further observation.”

  Austin closed the imaginary notepad and looked back at her like he’d done and said nothing. In that moment she learned two things: 1. Austin was okay. 2. He had a weird sense of humor.

  “So,” she said. “Why am I here and not one of your Secret Service guys? Or the president for that matter?”

  Austin leaned back in his chair and tapped out a steady beat with his fingers on the armrests as he thought. He looked at her and noticed her eyes on his fingers. “I play the drums.” He turned his head toward the button covered ceiling. “Pretty soon everyone on board is going to realize that the United States no longer exists. I’m pretty sure this has already dawned on Collins. He can’t be the president of something that is not there. My team will realize this as well and figure out they no longer need to protect the man. Their motivation has been removed.”

  Mia nodded. She hadn’t thought this far ahead yet, but it all made sense. The destruction of the United States made them all equals. The president, the priest, the war hero, the Secret Service, the reporter, the aide and the little girl—all on even ground. She frowned. Julia Child couldn’t come up with a better recipe for chaos. “So, let me ask again. Why am I here?”

  “Other than a pretty face to distract me from the view?”

  Mia raised a no-nonsense eyebrow, which made him smile.

  “I’ve been watching the group.” Austin flipped a series of switches. A line of screens arranged beneath the long window. Several views of the large, lounge chair-filled room appeared. Each screen focused on an individual or pair. “You want the quick and honest answer?”

  Mia nodded, looking at each screen.

  “You’re the only one not cracking up.” Austin pointed at the shot of Collins, still staring out the portal. “He hasn’t moved, not even a twitch of the finger. He’ll probably come back to us, but for now he’s in LaLa Land and like I said, he’s lost whatever sway he had over people now that his position no longer exists.”

  He pointed to the next screen showing the still sick Secret Service man and the woman tending to him. “White is obviously physically ill, but I’m hoping he’ll come around. Vanderwarf seems okay, but was going to be transferred next week because she’s got a thing for Danny-boy there. She’s going to be preoccupied with him until he’s not launching puke and then she’ll have to deal with the loss of her parents, five brothers, two sisters, her son and...her husband. White has resisted her advances, but she’s a looker and an affair was bound to happen. Of course, that’s not an issue now, is it?”

  The next screen showed Garbarino, still reassembling his handgun. “Garbarino has me worried. He’s the quiet type. Never says much. But he’s got a temper. Removing your sidearm, let alone disassembling it and reassembling it in view of the public is a huge breach of protocol. He’s no longer thinking about right and wrong. I guarantee you he’s already figured out that the president and me are no longer his bosses. And he’s distracting himself from dealing with what happened. Not a good thing.”

  He moved on to the next screen showing Chang talking with Elizabeth. “Frankly, Chang has surprised me. She cried for a long time, which is perfectly rational, then pulled herself together. She’ll be helpful, but she’s young and emotional. Elizabeth...” He looked at Mia. “I don’t need to explain her. Cute kid, though.”

  Mia smiled.

  “And that brings us to the brothers grim. And I mean grim as in depressing, not the fairy tales, though the line these two are spinning is just as morbid as the original stories.” Collins flicked another button, activating a directional microphone attached to the hidden camera. Paul’s and Mark’s whispered voices filled the room.

  “I don’t know,” said Paul.

  “I’m telling you... Did you see the clouds down there?” Mark’s hushed words were hard to make out. The next two sentences were a mix of slurred syllables.

  “Then how come we’re still here?” Paul asked, a little anger in his voice.

  Mark shrugged and spoke, but his words were once again unintelligible. What they could see was the Bible in the priest’s hand. He smacked it against his brother’s chest every once in a while for emphasis.

  Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

  Austin turned the sound off.

  “I see what you mean,” Mia said.

  “I’ve only caught bits and pieces of the load the priest is selling, but it’s no good. We need to keep paranoid religious talk to a minimum. Nothing freaks people out faster.” Austin turned back to the view of Paul and Mark and snorted. Mark was turning through the pages of the small Bible. “Wouldn’t you know it? The only print book in the world to survive just had to be the Bible.”

  Mia frowned hard.

  “What?” Austin asked.

  “That’s just sad, I guess. All the books on Earth are gone.”

  “That’s sadder than all the people on Earth being gone?”

  “No, just different. Books represent hundreds, sometimes thousands of years of accumulated history. Everything mankind has ever discovered or created was recorded in a book. Now it’s all dust.”

  “Not quite,” Austin said. “A digital copy of nearly every book ever printed is stored on board, along with data and information that’s never seen print. What do you read?”

  “Run for your life action stuff.”

  “Ugh, no thanks. I’ve had enough of the real thing.”

  “To each his own,” she said. “So...is there a point to all this? You told me why they’re not here, but not why I am here. Why are you showing me this? Telling me about the others? Why are you telling me about this...ship, or escape pod—”

  “Earth Escape Pod.”

  “Whatever. What’s the point?”

  “Someone needs to be in charge.”

  Mia’s forehead scrunched tight. What the hell? “We have a president.”

  “Who’s no longer a president of anything.”

  “We have you.”

  “People tend n
ot to trust gun-toting ex-Secret Service men.” Austin opened his coat, revealing his sidearm. “It implies they don’t have a choice.”

  “Then lose the gun,” Mia said.

  “Not a chance.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there are three other people on board with guns, and I don’t know if they’re trustworthy yet. Like I said, Garbarino has me worried.”

  Mia could see his line of thinking. She wasn’t cracking up. Yet. She didn’t carry a gun. She was pretty, strong and had no previous affiliation with any of them except— “Elizabeth.”

  Austin nodded. “She makes you a mother figure. Mother figures are trustworthy. She also gives you the most motivation to come out of this in one piece. The rest of us are just fighting for our lives. You’re fighting for two.”

  Mia sank into her chair. He was right. But she still wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t do a better job. He was dealing with the annihilation of the human race better than all of them. “What about you? Why aren’t you cracking up?”

  Austin leaned his balding head back into the chair and closed his eyes. “When I was eight, my father and I were driving cross country. We’d just entered Arizona when this wall of sand came from the south and swept toward the north. To us, seeing it from a distance, it looked beautiful. My father wisely stopped on the side of the road while we watched the sandstorm pass. When we started back on the road again, we found a small town a few miles ahead. It’d been directly in the path of the storm. The first person we saw was an eight year old boy. He was missing an arm. His mother lay in the sand with a shingle buried in her forehead. We counted twelve dead that day. People missing limbs, heads, or otherwise impaled by debris. Cars were overturned. Windows broken. Shards of metal, glass and wood everywhere. The sand was soaked with blood. It’s amazing anyone survived. That was my first experience with death. I’ve been to thirty-four funerals since, seven in 10th grade alone. There wasn’t much left of my family when...” Austin motioned to the view of Earth. “...this happened. Death just seems to follow me around and I’ve been ready for it for a long time. It’s why I can take a job where getting shot for someone else is part of the deal. It’s also why I’m the wrong person to take the lead right now. I’m good at dealing with death and with preventing death, but I’m not so good at what needs to happen next.”