As Above, So Below

Run…

Run…

Run…

Henry’s legs burned, but he could not stop running now. The heavy footsteps of a creature lumbered behind him, his breathing coming in short bursts through his mask. Henry half led, half dragged Gabby through the brush, the girl unable to keep up with his strides. The tears ran down her face, he could see through the clear plastic of her mask that her eyes shone in the light of the moon. She knew better than to utter whimper. Years on the road had taught her that.

Run.

Henry focussed on the jostle of Fredrick’s bag in front of him, trusting the miserable old fuck to lead them somewhere. That’s how it had been. The crazy old man hell bent on surviving this hellscape leading, Henry following, sometimes objecting but always relenting. His job was to keep the girl safe, his one act of rebellion in the face of the odds. Gabby stayed quiet and tried to her best to be a child. That was her job; to remind them to be human.

RUN.

Suddenly a rock face appeared. It was funny how huge things like mountains could hide in the dark. Despite the fact they were now trapped against a wall of rock with something running them down, Henry’s face cracked into a grin. The irony wasn’t lost on him as Fredrick turned and looked back at him, his eyes wide behind his mask. He frantically spun around and began fondling the rock in front of him, as though his loving touch would make it split open and swallow them up into its bosom.

Henry stood there gripping the pistol. Gabby was watching Fredrick scrape his fingers across the wall. The ground itself shaking with the creatures footsteps, foreshadowing what would be a horrifying death. Yes, it’s better this way. Henry raised the pistol and cocked the hammer. Gabby never heard it, her eyes darting over the rock face. The footfalls of whatever monstrosity that wished to feast on them were closer now, Henry couldn’t let the girl’s last moments be like this…

“Henry! Quick!”

Fredrick rarely spoke and his voice betrayed it. It was gravelly and low. But it was enough to make Henry’s arm snap back. He grabbed Gabby and rushed her to where Fredrick was beckoning him, frantic and wild.

A door. A door in the rock.

Henry laughed. It wasn’t the laugh he was used to hearing come from himself. It was a laugh curated from the madness the world had. The cackle of someone insane.

There was a door in the rock.

Beyond the door there was only the infinite black.

No moonlight to shine on them.

Just the never-ending ink of true darkness.

It was still better than what was waiting for them out here.

The group pushed through the door and the two men began to heave it closed. The rust and neglect had taken its toll on the heavy metal door. Slowly, painfully, it began to inch shut. Henry looked up and saw something moving toward them. Its pace was terrifying. Something that large should not move that fast. A burst of adrenaline surged through him and Henry threw all he had at the door. He heard a faint click before…

BOOM.

The impact threw both men from the door. The darkness was oppressive, a heavy blanket draped over the trio. It encompassed everything.

BOOM.

The impact on the door was violent. Henry scrambled to his feet and felt for his torch. Shit, it must have dropped while he was running. He reached into his pocket and felt for his box of matches. He pulled one out and struck it once, twice, three times before it flared. What pitiful light it threw out revealed a small alcove with a desk in the corner. Gabby and Fredrick looked up at him, none of them daring to breathe. Henry watched as their faces were swallowed by the dark as the match burnt out, disappearing back into the blackness.

Boom.

The third time was less violent than the previous two. Henry strained to listen as he heard snuffling. He pictured the horror that lurked just outside the door, sniffing at the dirt like a bloodhound. The pacing and shuffle of a creature confused as to why its prey had inexplicably vanished. The pad of a heavy animal retracing its steps, tracking its quarry with a relentless vigour paraded about for a whole minute.

Two minutes.

Three.

Four.

It felt like a lifetime, but the sniffing sounds began to move away. Becoming softer and more distant. It was only when it was gone did the group begin to gulp down air. In unison they began panting.

“Your torch Henry.” Fredricks voice echoed in the dark, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

Henry’s annoyance rose to the fore. ‘If I had my torch, would I have lit a match you fucking moron?’

Instead, he said:

“It’s gone Fred, must’ve fallen from my pack while we were running.”

A disgruntled hmph is all that returned from the black. Henry knew Fredrick was probably thinking something along the lines how careless Henry was and how he should’ve carried the torch because he wouldn’t have dropped it. He said none of these things but they hung in the air, his disappointment like that of a father looming over his errant son.

A soft cracking sound and the black began fade, replaced by a soft red glow. Gabby stood there holding up two glowsticks. The ones they’d found at the toy store on the road. Fredrick had grumbled when she picked them up and said they’d not have the room for them. The girl had brought them along anyway. For the second time that night, Henry grinned. The girl had found a way to prove to the grumpy old man that sometimes even the smallest of things can have their place.

Fredrick sighed and beckoned the girl over, pulling his pack off and starting to rummage through it. He pulled two sleeping bags out and began to unfurl them. Gabby handed one of the glowsticks to Henry before holding the other up high, giving Fredrick a reprieve from the darkness.

Henry dropped his pack. The room might be bigger than they thought. He couldn’t see the walls of it. He ambled over to the desk by the door. It was strange that such a thing was here.

What was here anyway? They were way off the road, in a part of the country he no longer knew about. Or cared to know for that matter. What was this place built into the rock? A mine? A bunker?

The industrial metal desk was bolted to the wall and a chair lay flat on its back. A small heart shaped locket lay next to a book on the desk. Henry picked the chair up and sat down, giving a suspicious look at the locket. If this was bait it was a poor attempt. The book lay there, unassuming in its plainness.

Henry glanced over at Gabby and Fredrick and, seeing the two engaged in setting up sleeping arrangements he picked the book up and flipped at random to a page…

‘Day twenty-six: The subjects are showing signs of deterioration. All except subjects 2b, 3e and 7a have exhibited aggressive tendencies. Three subjects, however, have shown signs of euphoria, higher levels of clarity and cognitive functions. This is promising and means we can move to mainstream clinical trials soon. I am tired of hiding underground, doing my work in the dark. I wish I could come home after a hard day of work to my wife. But progress doesn’t care for what I want, so I will be patient and keep myself busy. More tests tomorrow...’

Henry tilted his head and glanced around the room. Hardly a laboratory. Was this the deluded ranting of a survivalist? He flipped to the front of the book. The first page read:

‘Doctor Aimee Fletcher, 2001’

Something tweaked in Henry’s memory. That name was familiar. Where did he know it from? He frowned and turned a page.

‘Day one: I am elated that I finally have the chance to test my work on human subjects. Colonel Orwell has secured premises and made preparations. All subjects are violent criminals on death row, jumping at the opportunity to have their sentences rescinded no doubt. If my drug works we won’t need the death penalty. It will create a perfect society of intelligent, peaceful humans. Vicodin 271b will change the world and I believe our future with it is bright.’

A laugh broke Henry’s train of thought. Fredrick had begun to read a book to Gabby. She always begged him to read. Maybe the old man thought it would be the best way to calm her nerves. He always had an ulterior motive. Henry shrugged and riffled through the journal.

‘Day sixty-four: I don’t know how things have got this bad. Of the three hundred and thirty-three subjects, only twenty-four have responded positively to the drug. Some miscalculations on my part? The remaining three hundred and sixteen have seen levels of aggression beyond what I thought possible. Most of them are incoherent as soon as they wake from sedation. One bit the nose off a nurse this morning, frothing like a rabid dog. My anxiety is high, and I feel on the verge of collapse. At least we have the mountain escape tunnel if they manage to overcome us. I know it is an unlikely outcome, but it is comforting. I wish I could see Elizabeth, talk with her, hold her…’

Henry paused and stared at the locket on the desk. He reached down with trembling hands. Only now did he see the scratches on the desk. He lifted the locket and pried it open. Two pictures on either side stared up at him. Both women were pretty, elegant. One he didn’t know. The other he did. He’d seen her on the news, maybe a year before the world had gone to hell on a handcart. This place was…

Henry glanced over at Fredrick and Gabby. His hands shaking as he flipped to the last page of the journal…

‘We have sealed the lower levels in the hopes of containing the breakout. I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry. No one is coming to help us; I know the surface is worse than here. We have made our way to the mountain door, but we dare not leave. I hope the surface above becomes inhabitable before the subjects can breach the upper levels. We could not control them. They broke free of their restraints and began eating us alive. Anyone or anything they could get their hands on. The three subjects that responded to the drug laughed as they were cannibalised. The only comfort is that once we leave, the door will only be able to be opened from the outside, thanks to the ingenuity of the engineer on our team. He has found a way to make sure my mistakes stay buried.’

Fear crept through Henry’s mind as he read. This wasn’t happening. No, please tell me this isn’t happening. A train-wreck he couldn’t look away from, he continued reading.

‘I am sorry for the horror I have wrought. I wish I could see Elizabeth again. Tell her I love her. I am sorry. I can hear them they are at the door I have nowhere to go nowhere to run nowhere to hide should anyone find this leave now run run RUN RUN RUN THEY ARE COMING THEY AR…’

Henry rose from the desk, leaving the book and the locket in its place. Trembling, he turned to see his companions, the grouchy old man and the sweet little girl looking up at him.

One by one, pairs of dull red eyes began to breach the black behind them…