Neon Blood (Neon Helix Universe Book 3) Page 10

  “I thought the same thing. I don’t know for sure, but I saw Persephone kill someone, someone Reilly knew. She was making a point. She threatened other people he knew too, Reilly’s friends. Maybe they know something?”

  “Or they’re in danger,” Salem nodded, finishing his glass of wine.

  “How bad is it?” Bella asked, running a hand over the bandage.

  “It’s healing. It shouldn’t take too long now. You’re actually in a healing pod at one of the medical clinics at the moment. I hacked in so we could talk.”

  “Thank you. I’d probably be dead if you hadn’t found me.”

  “Oh, you would be. You were leaking blood like a broken pipe when I got there. I managed to get us out just before the MPD showed up and got you to the clinic. You sit tight and heal. I’ll see what I can find out about Reilly, or Prime, or whatever he’s called.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Yessir,” Salem topped up Bella’s wine glass and gave a mock salute before his image faded out.

  *

  Salem sat upright as he awoke in his VR room. He had managed to upgrade and had his own room for VR systems since his work over the last few months had reacquainted him with his old friend, Dramarti Silverstone, the owner of Silverstone Corp. The room was cleaner and more high-tech than the public one he had rented out during his self-imposed exile. Having his own room allowed him to jack in and out whenever he wanted to avoid the world outside, maintaining the signal shielding to prevent any outside signals from entering the room or his head, but with the added benefit of being able to turn it on and off whenever he needed it.

  He unplugged himself from the system and swung his legs off the bed. The bodily function attachments were much more discreet than the older system as well, retracting automatically as he stood up, concealing themselves in the large bed. He padded barefoot and naked across the stone floor and began to get dressed, his clothes being the one thing that hadn’t been updated with his extra credits. His worn black jeans and boots showed signs of long-term use, and the band t-shirt he pulled on had a similar threadbare style, the band logo for ‘Distorted Brain’ wearing away. Stepping into the lounge, he grabbed his denim jacket, and flicked a cigarette from a pack and lit it. Inhaling deeply he let the smoke wake up his lungs, before spinning on the spot to walk towards the door. His shin slammed sharply into the corner of a low coffee table in the centre of the room.

  “Fuck!” He cursed as he rubbed his shin, and limped out of the apartment.

  Chapter Twenty

  Prime

  Things had gone from bad to worse.

  Prime had been in the solitary chamber for what felt like an eternity. Alone with his thoughts, and Peter, whose experience of being locked in a prison was something he liked to continually remind Prime about.

  You need to keep your mind moving Prime, don’t let the boredom take hold.

  “I’m fine! I’m just wondering where we’re going to end up,” Prime sighed, fidgeting on the metal bed for what felt like the millionth time in the last ten minutes.

  On a previously uninteresting section of one of the metal wall panels, a display flickered on unannounced. A square visual that stretched across the entire wall showed a virtual courtroom with a long bench running left to right, giving the impression that Prime was sat at a table on the ground, the court bench raised high above. Sat before it were three holographic representations of the AI Judges. Prime recognised them from Peter’s memories of his court case. Each was a visual representation of varying aspects of human life in an attempt to show the AI as fair. One was an elderly man, depicting age and wisdom. The second was female of mixed race, depicting diversity, and a third a younger man who represented innocence and youth. They were cliched and, in reality, the depictions were just for the show. Originally the verdicts from the AI law system were just sent via messages to the MPD, who processed the charges accordingly, but this had come under fire as humans couldn’t seem to accept the verdict was accurate, the information too clinical and emotionless. So in response, the Judges were created to give a human-like feel to the hearings, along with the visual representation of the courtroom for the defendant to receive their verdict. Prime knew all this but still felt a surge of adrenaline as he realised this was to be his hearing.

  “Peter Henshaw,” the elder of the Judges announced, “you are here to receive your verdict with regards to several charges of murder across the city.”

  “What?” Prime protested, “I’m not Peter Henshaw, and I didn’t kill anyone!”

  Think Prime! Your DNA, Persephone’s, mine, it’s all the same. Once they processed you, they’d have found a match from my own trial in their systems.

  “Do you have anything to say before the verdict is called,” the younger Judge asked.

  Tread carefully. They don’t take kindly to aggression. Reason and logic are needed here.

  “I…I…” Prime stuttered.

  Fantastic, that’ll help us.

  “Based on the DNA evidence, and also the prior allegations against you, you have been found guilty of multiple homicide,” the female Judge spoke, “you will be taken to Blackwater Prison where you will serve a complete life sentence. Once dead, your body will be disposed of with no funeral considerations.” A common mandate for the city which had limited resources for disposing of the dead. The display faded from view, and a panel slid aside to the left of the screen, revealing four guards facing Prime. They were in full body armour, covering them from head to toe, with rifles raised.

  “Stand,” barked one of them.

  Prime hesitated, and in that half-second, a shot was fired from one of the rifles, the bullet impacting the metal inches from Prime’s head before ricocheting on the wall opposite.

  They really don’t care if they kill you now. It’d save them the job of transporting you.

  “Okay, okay!” Prime stood up slowly and was escorted out of the cell. Walking out into a dark narrow tunnel wide enough only for two people to stand side-by-side, the low ceiling almost touched Prime’s head as they walked with two guards in front and two behind. A door at the end of the tunnel came into view, and the two guards in front stood aside. The door opened, revealing a cubed room that was surprisingly spacious. Made of silver metal, the room stretched out almost two meters in every direction with a chair molded out of the metal in its centre.

  Looks like an executioner's chair to me. Peter said as Prime saw the metal restraints that were attached to the arms and legs of the seat.

  “Get in, and sit down!” another guard barked.

  Prime ducked into the room and sat on the chair. The three guards blocked the door, rifles still raised, while another stepped inside and secured cuffs on Primes’ wrists, waist, and ankles. The hard metal was cold against his skin, and the cuffs made it impossible for him to shift his position in the chair. Looking around the cube, all he could see was his own blurred reflection on the matt silver surface.

  “Enjoy the rest of your life,” the guard shouted as he left the cube, spitting inside before slamming the metal door behind him. The clanging sound echoed for a moment around the room, which plunged into darkness.

  For several moments he sat motionless. Nothing seemed to happen. All he could hear was his own breathing in the small room, the subtle sound of his heartbeat slowing as his adrenaline evened out. Then, almost imperceptibly, he felt motion. The cube was beginning to move forwards, picking up speed as it went.

  Blackwater Prison, here we come. This should be interesting.

  “I’m glad you’re looking forward to it,” Prime replied, his voice echoed around him.

  I’ve always been curious. Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like? A prison, on an island, secured away from the mainland that no-one has ever come back from

  “Yay,” Prime replied, hoping his dryness wasn’t unnoticed.

  *

  Prime could only estimate that it had been around thirty minutes, though he had no way of measuring time. In fact,
since being bundled into the van, he had no idea how much time had passed at all. His mind brought up images of Ally, Mollie, and the others, almost like hallucinations triggered by the cube's darkness.

  Without warning, the cube stopped abruptly.

  A clunking sound preluded the door's slow opening, followed by a rush of fresh air filling the cube, a slight salty smell assaulted Prime’s nostrils. Then the dim glow of orange lights seeped in. The sound of a gunshot echoed around Prime, his ears stinging in pain as the sound was exacerbated in the small area. A burning pain flared up in his right leg. Looking down, he saw a bullet wound where the shot had ripped through his calf muscle. Blood pouring out of the wound.

  “Welcome to Hell” Prime barely heard the rasped voice through the ringing in his ears.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ally

  They were all stood watching a prison transport leave the holding facility. Inside the armoured cube, Ally knew Prime was chained up. Its destination, Blackwater Prison.

  “There must be something we can do,” Mollie protested.

  “Not now, not after what happened in the van,” Xander sighed.

  The Prison was set away from the mainland, across a bridge that crossed over the lake surrounding the city's west side. Its waters were so deep no-one knew for sure how far down it went. The last scientific team to try and find out were overcome with a high level of radiation which rivalled that of the outer limits of the city, and half the group had died during the dive, with the rest following soon after. The island in the centre of the lake was later converted into a high-tech prison by the MPD when the prison cells on the mainland became overcrowded due to the speed prisoners being processed when the AI Judges had been activated. The small island was expanded below ground, meaning no one would dare try and get out in fear of the radiation risks. It now housed over twenty-five thousand prisoners.

  The bridge was the only way to get from the Metro over Blackwater Lake, the single route extended like a highway that connected to the island, with automated defences to prevent anyone from crossing. Only the transport cubes were allowed to move from the island, like cable cars attached to the bridge's side.

  The group were stood as close to the bridge as they could get. Mollie was stamping her feet beside Ally to fight off the cold from the winter breeze blowing over the lake, while Xander stood with Ava, watching the cube as it made its way over the bridge. Quartzig was slightly apart from the rest, and Ally wondered what was going through his circuits. It had taken less than twenty-four hours for Prime to be sentenced for the murder of Julian. DNA evidence from all the Prime Killer murders was enough to condemn him, and then the attack on the guards had just expedited the process.

  “Did you manage to speak with anyone at the MPD?” Ally asked Xander.

  “I spoke to Mike, but even he didn’t have any authority after the attack. Prime was put into complete solitary as soon as he arrived. He’s had zero contact with anyone.”

  “We don’t really think he killed all those people…do we?” Mollie spoke, staring at the white lights which illuminated the cube as it moved.

  “I don’t know,” Ally replied, doubt clear in her tone. “He’s been so distant since the Fall. Something was going on with him.”

  “From what we know about CyBio and the clones, the DNA doesn’t sound like concrete evidence to me,” Quartzig said, his voice devoid of his usual emotion.

  “It does seem out of character,” Ava added.

  The pod arrived on the other side of the bridge, indicted by the lights which blinked out.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Xander said, pushing himself away from the railing on the water’s edge.

  *

  They headed back to Julian’s apartment. Stood around the main living area, they looked out at the city below through the large window. The snow had stopped, and the city's heat was melting the ice creating a mist that seemed to hover above the city.

  “To Julian,” Xander raised a glass of bourbon. It had been one of Julian’s favourites.

  “To Julian,” they all echoed and took a drink before returning to their internal thoughts, conversation minimal and strained

  Quartzig had left the group and gone into the Hub. He hadn’t checked on the systems yet, somehow feeling doing so further acknowledged Julian’s absence. Moving across the consoles, he began a diagnosis, checking everything was working.

  In the living area, the conversation slowly began to discuss Prime again, the slowly emptying bottles of bourbon relaxing thoughts and loosening tongues.

  “You said you heard some people talking at the warehouse?” Ally asked, looking over at Mollie, who was sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “Yeah, it was a man and a woman. I don’t know who they were but mentioned Blackwater and Prime being there and something about the Underpass,” Mollie replied.

  “Why would they talk about Blackwater? They knew Prime would be sent there?” Ava asked.

  “I don’t know. I think the woman called the other guy Heller or something,” Mollie furrowed her brow.

  “Keller?” Ally asked.

  “Yeah, that was it, you know him?”

  “Keller was what the person who attacked me at the clinic we checked out, Julian tracked the name down to a Thomas Keller who was still in Blackwater Prison,” Ally filled them in.

  “What? How could he be in Blackwater but attack you?” Xander raised his eyebrow.

  “And be at the warehouse?” Ava asked.

  “I don’t know. It was like he was controlling someone else’s body when he attacked me,” Ally signed.

  “Hey, guys,” Quartzig’s voice called out from the Hub, “you really need to come see this.”

  They all piled into the room, though large most of the space was taken up with computers and terminals, but they gathered around as Quartzig hit a button on a console and a large screen flickered into view. An image showed a list of articles and notes that Julian had been compiling about Thomas Keller. It also had an audio note file attached.

  “Listen to this,” Quartzig hit the play button, and a female voice could be heard.

  “Oh, this is the beginning of something huge. You see, I have much greater ambitions than Peter Henshaw ever did, and soon there will be a radical shift in the way the Metro runs.”

  “Who is that?” Ally asked.

  “I don’t know, but it was recorded here, and the time stamp on the file was only a couple of hours before we found Julian at the warehouse, just after we left the apartment.”

  “Could it be Persephone?” Mollie looked at the others.

  “Whoever it is, they knew about Peter,” Ava added.

  A knocking sound echoed through the apartment, making them all freeze. Someone was at the door.

  “Does anyone know we’re here?” Ally asked quietly. Everyone shook their heads.

  “It could be her! Persephone!” Mollie hissed.

  Quartzig flicked a switch, a video of the outside of the apartment replaced the screen's visuals. Outside, a man stood, leaning on the front door listening for the sounds of anyone inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Persephone

  The tunnel to the Underpass had been built back in the Civil War days of the Metro when people needed secure and hidden ways to traverse the city. Most of the tunnels had been sealed up in the years following the war, but Persephone had discovered several of them during her research of the city. Having uncovered and reopened some, such as the one under the warehouse district, they allowed her to move across the city and remain undetected.

  The tunnel led to the Nexus Market by a small, uninteresting door that opened onto the street. Anyone passing by would have assumed it was a small home or storage unit and nothing more. Persephone stepped into the world of the Nexus, casting an eye over the bustling marketplace. Smells of smoke and hot spices filled the air, and a cacophony of voices bartering for everything from food and supplies to augmentations and drugs created a back
drop of noise.

  Walking into the crowds, she attracted a few glances from the shoppers. Her deep red, close-cut dress and of the high-class Neon Boulevard style, a long way from the ragtag Underpass residents whose patchwork styles of mismatched fabrics and augmentations reflected their scavenging lifestyles. There were only a handful of people who dressed more akin to Persephone’s style in the Underpass, and people tended to stay away from them. Persephone didn’t return their glances, keeping her line of sight straight, causing the sea of bodies to move apart for her as she worked through the market and towards a tent that lay towards the centre of the Nexus Market.

  “Can I help you?” a voice called out as a man emerged from the tent. He was short and wore a white surgeon's outfit, though it was marked with a range of red marks of varying shades of blood.

  “Hello, Dr Koenig,” Persephone nodded.

  “Do I know yo-” Koenig looked up at the woman, adjusting the lens’ on the telescopic goggles he wore.

  Persephone waited for Koenig’s mind to catch up. She had changed her appearance a little since he last saw her.

  “Persephone? Ah-ha, you are looking well, yes,” Koenig beamed, walking around to study her from all angles, like a mechanic admiring an engine.

  “I am, thank you, Doctor,” Persephone replied as Koenig held the fabric door to the tent open for her.

  They stepped into Koenig’s small laboratory, a metal table laying in the centre. Persephone walked around it. Her mind drifted back to a time when she had woken up, laying on that table after The Fall.

  The last thing Persephone had remembered was shooting Owens on the staircase at the CyBio building, whilst the others had all been escaping the crumbling building. She was still mostly Peter then, his mind in the body of the female clone. The damage to the CyBio building had opened a fissure next to her, and she had lost her footing and fell god knows how many stories. As she fell, her body collided with fragments of stone and metal, thrown back and forth like a ragdoll. Broken bones and a bloodied mess, it was impossible for her to move, though somehow she had remained conscious as she lay on the ground as the building continued to crumble. Several large pieces of debris crashed into her, then an explosion threw her body into the air before she finally blacked out.