Return : Book One in the Return series

Part 14 - Deadzone

  Helllfire's mismatched creation of a vehicle puttered into the gates of Deadzone, the old bat on its last legs. As it entered into a large, sparse, courtyard of rubble, the machine finally screeched its last, and a small plume of grey smoke coming out from under the hood signified the time to exit. Driving this far from the main city was a long ride. It had taken the group well over a day and a half to get in the clear, and it had taken its toll. As the the scenery around them had slowly degraded from stainless, immaculate towers to ramshackle scrap metal huts ,eventually just the bare boneworks of Apollo, steel grids with roads crisscrossing far and few between, so had the group's morale.

Now that Argent Sledge knew they were coming, he most likely would have an arsenal of defenses wherever the hell he was holed up, as well as groups of his people looking for them everywhere, canvassing all over Apollo. It wasn't as big as Earth, maybe less than half the size due to the amount of metal needed to create a sturdy frame, and even less in terms of construction supplies. That just made it easier to search through, and harder to hide in.

Not to mention the fact that they now all had bounties on their heads. They were famous now, though not in the generally good way.

All that and more rolled through their minds on the dull trip to the Deadzone, and arriving was a much needed wake up call. They still had work to do.

At least Vulture did.

  The moment they stopped, Kunai hopped out and with no more than a simple wave of a hand, threw a smoke grenade and disappeared by the time the smoke flittered out.

  Hellfire simply laid down in his seat and started snoring obnoxiously, as if his life wasn't in danger at all.

  Big Sister, having no fancy exit nor terrible snoring, just started looking for scraps to build something with.

  They all seemed resigned to not completing the job, and Vulture was running out of energy as well. If he was going to finish this job, he had better do it right. The guards had taken all their weapons, so aside from a walkie that might not even be in range, he had nothing but the clothes on his back. He stood up, stretched, and started looking for something of use to steal back Matthew from the greasy clutches of Sledge.

Matthew blinked. He couldn't see much other than his shoes, and there was only a blinding white light above when he lifted his head. He tried to look around, but his strength failed him.

  A grating voice spoke. "Boss, he's awake. What are you going to do with him?"

  A gloved hand reached to Matthew's chin and lifted his head up. Matthew could see his own sweat-soaked visage in the reflective lens of Sledge's round glasses. The man smiled thinly, his lips contorting into a small half circle, fading into nothing.

  "We'll have to wait and see. There will be questioning, to determine how much information he's seen, of course we'll have to send a hit on the idiot who managed to cause all this in the first place, and then, if Matthew survives, he might just be able to be remolded into a beautiful new member of our society, don't you think?"

  A maniacal glee enraptured Sledge as he straightened up and clicked his fingers, signalling for Matthew to be taken away. He was like a small child just given candy, leaning from foot to foot and holding his hands together, but the professor's strange musings was the last thing on Matthew's mind right now. A canvas bag was forced onto his head, and with a loud CLANG, he felt himself jolt and start getting transported, though to where it was unknown.

  He could see the strip lights fading in and out of his view as he was moved. His hands were tied behind his back, but moving his fingers around, he felt a smooth plastic surface with metal supports, something like a mix between a pallet and a trolley.

  The movement stopped. With a sharp turn, he was wheeled into instant darkness. Something, maybe not human, lifted him up by the scruff of his collar and roughly dropped him into a metal stool. The thing smacked the back of Matthew's head for good measure, then pulled off the sack to reveal... nothing. Matthew couldn't see anything in front of him at all. The thing left the room, and slammed the door shut.

  A voice came from the darkness. It wasn't a particularly scary voice, but there was just something about it. It seemed a little echoey, and maybe not a normal human's.

  "Well, we guess it's just you and us now, huh , lil' buddy?"

  Us? Matthew thought. He'd never heard anyone refer to themselves as us.

  A flip of the switch. A lamp turned on, shining into Matthew's eyes. Wincing at the glare. He could make out just one silhouette was visible. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this person was just trying to intimidate him a little, catch him off guard. Well it didn't work, and -

  A shrill, awkwardly feminine scream came from the interrogation room. It was soon followed by choruses of uproar and gleeful laughter. Voices came from the room, demanding things, wanting more.

  "It's my turn with the iron, not yours! Give it to me!"

  "No, you had the iron last! It's mine now, go and play with the hammer, you selfish bitch!"

This continued. Even after the lights in the facility shut down. It didn't even seem like Matthew was being interrogated, rather just tortured for the fun of it. There were no questions asked. Just laughter and screams, although the screams began to falter eventually, and became little more than whimpering, the desperate surrender of a wounded combatant, and yet it continued.

Long into the night.