The Dystopiaville Omnibus: A Dystopian Sci-Fi Horror Collection Page 11

An elderly man, in his sixties or seventies, approached the chair and knelt down. His old bones made a warm, cracking noise. The man shone a pocket torch in Morgan’s eyes. Morgan felt the man’s odourless breath touch his skin.

  “No significant damage,” the old man said, standing up with a groan. “He’s got a thick head but we knew that already.”

  The shadows laughed, some of them.

  Things gradually became clearer.

  Ellie Ward was standing nearby. She hovered at the edge of the crowd, standing perfectly still, staring at Morgan. Her blue eyes shone with contempt.

  Morgan saw her in his mind with that lump of crystal in her hands. Then he saw her pointing the Glock at his head from close range.

  Little killer.

  “So this is Silentia,” he said, glancing around the room.

  Nobody spoke.

  Silentia’s ordinariness was the most frightening thing of all. These people, who’d done unspeakable things, were so bland to look at. They were the boy and the girl next door. The old man with the sad eyes standing in the post office queue. The happy-go-lucky guy who cut the grass on a Saturday afternoon, cracking jokes and all smiles.

  No horns. No red-skinned devils.

  Morgan had dealt with all sorts of cons in his time – murderers, rapists, thieves and gangsters. But this was organised crime at the highest level, masquerading as a noble cause. There were no Silentia veterans in prison. Not a single terrorist under its banner had ever been captured and that was after almost a decade of intense terror campaigns. It was a remarkable achievement. And the leader? Not much was known about him or her. Whoever it was, they were alleged to be a ruthless individual who ruled Silentia with an iron rod, accepting nothing less than a hundred percent. According to rumours, members were eliminated if there was even a hint of doubt about their loyalty. It was a rule.

  “Hello again,” said a familiar voice.

  Reggie Ward strolled through the parting crowd.

  Morgan laughed. He didn’t know why, it just happened.

  “Hello Reggie.”

  Reggie’s glasses were off. There was something else different too – it was the way he moved. There was no bumbling, awkwardness in the man’s gait anymore. His stride was confident and most of all, purposeful.

  “How’s the head?” Reggie asked. He stood over Morgan like an executioner minus the axe.

  “Great,” Morgan said. “Thanks for asking Reggie or…hang on a minute, is that even your real name? I bet it’s not.”

  Reggie offered a tepid smile.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Guess not. I’ll keep calling you Reggie then, okay Reggie?”

  The shadows stood behind Reggie, a silent backdrop with eyes.

  “I got a little too cocky didn’t I?” Morgan said. “There I was, thinking I was dealing with a pack of plain old everyday silence huggers. That’ll teach me huh? I’ll never underestimate anyone ever again. I’ve learned my lesson. Well thanks for the education folks. Now if you’ll just untie me I’ll…”

  “You’re going nowhere,” Terri said, stepping out of the crowd. Ellie and Fern stood on either side of her now. “We already gave you that option remember? And don’t beat yourself up about not seeing what we are Morgan. We’re good at what we do. Very good.”

  “She’s right,” Reggie said. “It’s not your fault you didn’t see it. That’s the whole point.”

  “See what Reggie?” Morgan asked.

  “The Ward family,” Reggie said, “is nothing more than a meticulously planned construction.”

  Morgan laughed. “A meticulously planned construction. You took the words right out of my mouth. Well you sure fooled me. Great method acting Reggie boy, or should I call you Reggie sir now?”

  Reggie knelt down beside Morgan. It was only now that Morgan noticed the man hardly ever blinked. Or at least, it was hard to catch him doing it.

  “The true method actor inhabits the role at all times,” Reggie said. “And I do mean at all times Morgan, not just when the cameras are running. We are the Wards. In public and in private too. We think like the Wards, talk like them, walk like them and do what they would do in any given situation. For all intents and purposes, I am Reggie Ward. And yet, that’s not my name.”

  “Yep,” Morgan croaked. He was desperate for a glass of water but didn’t think it was the right time to ask.

  “It’s just the way it has to be,” Reggie said, “because you never know for sure whether or not the room you’re in is bugged. Same with the car. Your clothes. You never know, anywhere anytime, who might be listening in. There are only a few small windows, such as this moment right now, when we take off our masks. All of us.”

  Morgan whistled. “That’s impressive.”

  “The truth is,” Reggie said, “that we don’t know anything about the people who surround us every day. Who they are, who they really are. And what they’re capable of. We’re proof of that.”

  “I know what you’re capable of Reggie,” Morgan said. “You’re capable of blowing up buildings full of innocent people. Men, women, children – it doesn’t matter to you who dies does it? As long as you make the ten o’clock news.”

  “Strategic targets,” Reggie said. “We only ever hit targets associated with the noise industries.”

  Morgan hacked up a bitter laugh.

  “And what about the people inside those strategic targets?” he asked. “Hey I’m no angel Reggie boy, I murdered my mother. I burned the old bitch alive but if it’s a game of who’s the biggest monster you crush me every time.”

  Reggie stood up again. Then he turned to face the crowd.

  “This man’s name is Carter Morgan,” he said. “You know what he did to my wife, my daughters and I today. Quite barbaric, to humiliate a family like that, to violate their principals – I’m sure you all agree.”

  A murmur of agreement floated across the room.

  “But we mustn’t be too judgemental,” Reggie said. “Junkies like Morgan never stood a chance. He killed his mother and from what I’ve been told the attack wasn’t entirely unprovoked. Mrs Morgan used to routinely lock her son under the stairs and leave him there for hours without food, water and most important of all, without his beloved distraction. She put a gag in his mouth. It almost killed him because Morgan grew up believing the great lie – that silence is something to be feared.”

  Reggie faced Morgan again.

  “The police are going to show up in the quiet lands,” he said. ”Looking for you. Because of that we’ve had to move today’s meeting elsewhere.”

  “Blame the driver,” Morgan said with a shrug. “He was the one drunk behind the wheel. But he’s dead so don’t expect an apology.”

  “But it wasn’t the driver who showed up here and humiliated my family,” Reggie said. “The driver didn’t take such twisted pleasure turning my wife and children into puppets. Did he?”

  “Puppets?” Morgan said. “That’s fair enough. But c’mon now Reggie boy. We both know it wasn’t just your wife and lovely daughters I turned into puppets, don’t we?”

  “Be quiet Morgan.”

  Morgan had no intention of being quiet. “Did you tell your friends here what happened? Do they know how much you screamed like a bitch ’cos you were locked in the bathroom upstairs?”

  Reggie slapped Morgan on the cheek. It was a vicious blow and when it landed it sounded like a whip cracking.

  Morgan’s face felt like it was vibrating. Seconds later, he broke into a manic fit of laughter.

  “Your little girl hits harder than you,” he said.

  Reggie’s eyes burned.

  “Careful now Reggie,” Morgan said. “That temper of yours, remember?”

  Reggie backed off a few paces. The crowd parted hurriedly. But Reggie stopped and signalled to a broad shouldered young man leaning against the wall. The man’s skin was light, coppery brown and he sported a dazzling set of flaming red dreadlocks.

  Morgan thought he looked like someon
e from another planet.

  “Carl,” Reggie said. “Will you do me a favour please? The cupboard under the stairs is full of junk. Clean it out will you? Anything you find, dump it in the garage. Make lots of room. We have someone very special moving in.”

  “Sure thing boss,” Carl said, retreating into the hall.

  “Thank you Carl.”

  Morgan’s stomach lurched. But no matter what they did he wouldn’t let them see it, see the fear. No way was he going to crack in front of these nutcases.

  Reggie walked back over to Morgan.

  “You killed your mother,” he said. “You burned her alive because she loved your brother more than you.”

  “Guilty your honour,” Morgan said. “But I’ve already been convicted and served time for that one.”

  “Serving time isn’t the same thing as being punished,” Reggie said.

  “Tell that to the government.”

  Morgan felt sick inside. With any luck he’d throw up all over Reggie’s boots.

  “Your real punishment starts today,” Reggie said. “Here in this house where you committed your latest crimes.”

  Before Reggie could say anything else Terri appeared at his side. There was a frown on her face.

  “Let’s do it clean,” she said. She spoke quietly as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear what she was saying. “We don’t have time to make this personal.”

  “We didn’t make it personal,” Reggie said. “He did. The moment he walked into our house and tried to bully us.”

  “I don’t like it,” Terri said, staring at Morgan like he was an exhibit in a freak show. Not a very interesting one either. “The police will come looking for him. He should be long gone when they do.”

  “They’ll find nothing but the appearance of an empty farmhouse,” Reggie said. “Once the escape hits the news I’ll call the police in the city and tell them we were up here in our holiday home for a couple of days. I’ll let them know we saw nothing unusual. And that’ll be the end of it.

  “Think so?” Terri asked.

  Reggie nodded. “I do. A noise junkie like Morgan would have to be crazy to stick around the quiet lands. They’ll think he’s gone south. The whole world will think he’s gone south.”

  Terri chewed on her bottom lip.

  “Why take the risk?” she asked. “It’s not like us Reggie.”

  “Mum’s right,” Fern said, stepping forward. “I don’t think it’s a good idea leaving him here.”

  “Well I do,” Ellie said. “Imagine what he’ll look like when we come back in a couple of months. ”

  Fern screwed her face up in disgust. “You’re crazy,” she said. “And you’re stupid too if you think it’s a good idea to leave a body rotting here in the house.”

  “Enough!” Reggie said, clapping his hands. “We don’t have time for this. This will not be put to a vote. Considering the suffering inflicted on my family, this is my decision to make.”

  He stood over the captive.

  “You enjoyed humiliating us today,” Reggie asked. “Didn’t you Morgan?”

  “I came here for the juice,” Morgan said, staring up at Reggie. “And I was straight about that from the start.”

  Reggie nodded.

  “Carl?” Nearly done?

  There was a loud banging noise in the hallway. It was followed by the sound of something big dropping on the floor.

  “Yeah,” Carl said. “Nearly there boss.”

  Reggie scratched his chin, deep in thought. “Very good.”

  He looked at Terri.

  “If I recall correctly,” he said, “the cupboard under the stairs used to be a downstairs bathroom. Isn’t that right darling?”

  “Yes,” Terri said in a flat voice.

  “But your dad turned it into a storage space. Tell me darling, why was that again?”

  “Because it was too small.”

  Reggie slapped Morgan on the leg. “You hear that Carter boy? It was too small. Not the sort of place you’d want to be trapped in if you were claustrophobic. Right?”

  Morgan swallowed. Reggie and the freaks wanted him to crack.

  He’d give them nothing.

  He glanced over at Terri and the two girls behind her.

  “What are you guys going to blow up next?” Morgan asked. “A busy shopping centre on a Saturday afternoon? A packed football stadium? How many innocent people are going to die because of what you’ve got planned?”

  Terri’s poker face held. Ellie looked bored, but Fern was staring at the floor again. She’d been doing that a lot.

  “Christmas in a few months,” Morgan said, raising his voice so everyone could hear him. “What do I see? Kids younger than Ellie, out with their parents, scouting for presents from Santa Claus. But those kids won’t make it will they? They’ll be celebrating Christmas in the cemetery.”

  Silence swept across the room.

  Reggie gave Morgan a pat on the shoulder.

  “Nice try.”

  He walked away and stood beside his family. The four Wards stood together in a line, staring back at Morgan.

  Reggie clicked his fingers. Two heavyset men built like rugby players hurried over and picked up the chair with Morgan still sitting on it. As they held the chair aloft, someone in the crowd handed Reggie something. Reggie walked back over to the chair and wrapped a piece of stinking cloth over Morgan’s eyes. He fastened the knot tight.

  Morgan was blind. His heart began to thump faster.

  “Fuck you Reggie,” he said. “You want me to beg for my life?”

  Reggie cut him off by whispering in Morgan’s ear. “Don’t beg,” he said, “It doesn’t suit you.”

  There was scattered laughter in the room.

  Morgan felt the chair being hoisted towards the doorway. Then the movement stopped and Reggie called after him.

  “The body’s a tough nut to crack Morgan,” he said. “You’ll be sitting in your own piss and shit for a long time before you die. You’ll be thirsty. You’ll be ravenous with hunger. You’ll be in great, great pain. Still that’s not what you’re worried about is it? Wait till you hear the silence out here at night. Wait till you hear it. It’s…incredible.”

  That did it for Morgan.

  He gave up all pretence of being a tough guy. Of not giving a fuck. Now Morgan was ready to beg for mercy. He’d cry, scream, dance – do whatever it took to stay out of the coffin.

  But it was too late.

  Before he could utter another word they gagged him.

  Chapter 11

  Reggie stood outside as his Silentia comrades left the farmhouse. They exited the building in single file like worshippers leaving church on Sunday morning. And like a good minister, Reggie stood by the door, greeting each member of his flock individually.

  The flock scattered towards their cars. Engines sparked into life. The vehicles parked furthest from the house began to slow reverse or turn down the track that led to the road.

  Reggie watched them go, Terri standing at his side. They waved the first cars off.

  Silentia’s meeting had been relocated to Hatfield’s Bluff, an isolated peninsula fifty miles north of the farmhouse. It was an inconvenience to move the meeting, but the operation wouldn’t suffer. That was all that mattered.

  Reggie smiled at Terri but she blanked him. It was no secret that Terri was still pissed off after the way he’d dealt with Morgan. She hadn’t said a single word to Reggie since they’d locked Morgan in the cupboard, blindfolded, gagged and strapped to a chair. Too personal? How could anything be too personal after what Morgan had put them through? Yes, it had been somewhat indulgent of Reggie to do what he did and in light of his recent dismissal at work it probably wasn’t the smartest move either, giving in so easily to emotion.

  But he’d been holding back for so long.

  He’d played the part of Reggie Ward for twenty-two years for God’s sake, repressing his true nature time and time again. That sort of discipline deserved an award for
Christ’s sake.

  The real man trapped inside the lie was squirming. Begging to be let out.

  Reggie vowed to revive his flagging discipline levels as soon as they returned to the city. He’d sort it out. He’d find a new job and settle back down into the illusion of humdrum ordinary life.

  Morgan’s death would be his final treat.

  Joseph walked over to Reggie and Terri at the door. In the distance, Fern and Ellie were waiting for their parents beside the SUV.

  “Jimmy’s in the scout car,” Joseph said. “Travelling about twenty minutes ahead of the pack. Any problems on the northern route, anything at all, and we’ll get a call.”

  “Good,” Reggie said. “Make sure nobody goes over the speed limit.”

  Joseph nodded. “Of course. They’ve already been drilled.”

  Reggie instinctively reached for Terri’s hand. He grazed her fingers but she pulled away.

  “Sorry about all the trouble Joseph,” Terri said. “I know things haven’t exactly gone according to plan this morning.”

  “Can’t be helped,” Joseph said. “It’s not your fault that a prison van crashed around here. And it’s not your fault that a noise junkie got loose and stumbled across your house either. Just bad luck. It’s so sparse out here that he could easily have got lost in the fields and dropped dead.”

  Terri laughed nervously. “Yeah. That would’ve been better.”

  “There’s still one thing we need to do around here,” Reggie said. “Somebody needs to stay behind and clean up. Wipe down all the prints, any blood – remove all trace of Morgan from the house.”

  Terri coughed.

  “Remove all trace?” she said. “But it’s okay to leave his body in the downstairs cupboard?”

  “Don’t start for God’s sake,” Reggie groaned.

  Terri stared at him. “I’d like an answer if it’s all the same.”

  “Nobody’s coming to the house,” Reggie said, turning to face his wife. He could feel his face reddening. His voice shook with anger. Jesus, what was happening to him?

  “Okay?” he said. “As far as the outside world is concerned, Carter Morgan is on the run and he’s travelling south. He’s not going to hole up in the quiet lands for God’s sake. He’s a noise junkie. This house is empty. Zero trace, zero suspicion.”