Read Online Furnace 3 - Death Sentence by Alexander Gordon Smith - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexander Gordon Smith
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weapon. Then I tried to draw breath and my lungs stayed empty. I bucked, snapping my head back and forth, but the kid must have had all his weight on my face because the pillow didn’t shift.
‘I’m sorry,’ I heard him say. ‘Forgive me, Alex.’
I struggled to draw breath, feeling the panic radiate from my starved lungs. All the pillow gave me was dust and the stench of sickness. If I could just get an arm free then I’d stand a chance, I could kill him before he killed me.
‘Oh God, they’re here,’ said one of the others, his words accompanied by a familiar wheeze which swept in from the back of the infirmary. I tried to scream again, to draw the gas mask’s attention, but with nothing behind it my cry was silent. I felt the pillow press with greater insistency, heard the boys argue amongst themselves as the dry wheezes grew closer. Even with the cloth against my face I could feel the edges of my vision growing darker, the sounds fading like I had cotton wool in my ears.
‘It’s too late.’ The voice pushed through the numbness in my brain, and all of a sudden the darkness was ripped away. I found myself staring into the twisted face of a wheezer. It had one gnarled hand wrapped around Simon’s throat and the other held the scruff of Zee’s neck. The smallest kid was curled up in a ball on the floor screaming the same three words over and over. ‘It’s too late. It’s too late. It’s too late.’
And it was. Even as the boys fought to free themselves the blacksuits ran into the infirmary, fierce silver eyes aiming down their shotgun barrels. They flew into the cubicle like a dark tornado, the butts of their guns causing the boys to fall like pins. It was over before I could draw in my first stuttered breath.
‘Get them back to their beds,’ a blacksuit said, wipingthe blood from his gun before using it to point to Simon and Zee.
Before anyone could move, the sound of the warden’s shoes drifted up from the back of the room. The blacksuits straightened, their faces steeled against the storm that was coming.
‘What now?’ came his voice. He appeared at the open curtains of my cubicle and I turned away before I could meet his eye. ‘Is a little order around here too much to ask for? Go on, get them back before the feed is damaged too much. And that kid, find out how he got in, and if there are any more of them out there. When I asked for the perimeter to be secured I meant just that.’
I felt his glare scuttling up from Ozzie to me like a spider.
‘What about Number 208?’ he asked, his voice directed at me.
‘I think they were trying to kill him,’ replied one of the blacksuits. ‘Same way they killed Number 191.’
‘Any damage?’ This time it was a wheezer that responded, although there were no words in its gargled purr. The warden stepped forward. ‘Find out if there’s brain damage. I don’t know how long he went without oxygen. He looks weaker than he did.’
My fury had lifted my head before I even knew what I was doing. Weaker? Even the warden had no right to call me that. I met his eyes, felt the world peeling away like wallpaper, felt the cold touch of death in the swollen pits of his pupils. But I didn’t look away. I heldhis gaze until it felt as though my soul had been pulled out of me, and the devil’s breath had taken its place. Only then, when every last drop of strength had been drained, did I let my head drop.
‘Well, I take it back,’ he said. ‘Not weaker at all, just angrier. Good, good. You’ll soon have a chance to get even.’
I heard him stand to one side while the blacksuits hauled their catch from the floor. Even though I didn’t have the energy to move I caught a glimpse of the kid called Ozzie as he was dragged away. His eyes were distant and unfocused, his mouth silently shaping those same three words. Then a giant hand engulfed his head and he was lifted out of my line of sight.
‘Once you’ve done interrogating the intruder, take him
‘I’m sorry,’ I heard him say. ‘Forgive me, Alex.’
I struggled to draw breath, feeling the panic radiate from my starved lungs. All the pillow gave me was dust and the stench of sickness. If I could just get an arm free then I’d stand a chance, I could kill him before he killed me.
‘Oh God, they’re here,’ said one of the others, his words accompanied by a familiar wheeze which swept in from the back of the infirmary. I tried to scream again, to draw the gas mask’s attention, but with nothing behind it my cry was silent. I felt the pillow press with greater insistency, heard the boys argue amongst themselves as the dry wheezes grew closer. Even with the cloth against my face I could feel the edges of my vision growing darker, the sounds fading like I had cotton wool in my ears.
‘It’s too late.’ The voice pushed through the numbness in my brain, and all of a sudden the darkness was ripped away. I found myself staring into the twisted face of a wheezer. It had one gnarled hand wrapped around Simon’s throat and the other held the scruff of Zee’s neck. The smallest kid was curled up in a ball on the floor screaming the same three words over and over. ‘It’s too late. It’s too late. It’s too late.’
And it was. Even as the boys fought to free themselves the blacksuits ran into the infirmary, fierce silver eyes aiming down their shotgun barrels. They flew into the cubicle like a dark tornado, the butts of their guns causing the boys to fall like pins. It was over before I could draw in my first stuttered breath.
‘Get them back to their beds,’ a blacksuit said, wipingthe blood from his gun before using it to point to Simon and Zee.
Before anyone could move, the sound of the warden’s shoes drifted up from the back of the room. The blacksuits straightened, their faces steeled against the storm that was coming.
‘What now?’ came his voice. He appeared at the open curtains of my cubicle and I turned away before I could meet his eye. ‘Is a little order around here too much to ask for? Go on, get them back before the feed is damaged too much. And that kid, find out how he got in, and if there are any more of them out there. When I asked for the perimeter to be secured I meant just that.’
I felt his glare scuttling up from Ozzie to me like a spider.
‘What about Number 208?’ he asked, his voice directed at me.
‘I think they were trying to kill him,’ replied one of the blacksuits. ‘Same way they killed Number 191.’
‘Any damage?’ This time it was a wheezer that responded, although there were no words in its gargled purr. The warden stepped forward. ‘Find out if there’s brain damage. I don’t know how long he went without oxygen. He looks weaker than he did.’
My fury had lifted my head before I even knew what I was doing. Weaker? Even the warden had no right to call me that. I met his eyes, felt the world peeling away like wallpaper, felt the cold touch of death in the swollen pits of his pupils. But I didn’t look away. I heldhis gaze until it felt as though my soul had been pulled out of me, and the devil’s breath had taken its place. Only then, when every last drop of strength had been drained, did I let my head drop.
‘Well, I take it back,’ he said. ‘Not weaker at all, just angrier. Good, good. You’ll soon have a chance to get even.’
I heard him stand to one side while the blacksuits hauled their catch from the floor. Even though I didn’t have the energy to move I caught a glimpse of the kid called Ozzie as he was dragged away. His eyes were distant and unfocused, his mouth silently shaping those same three words. Then a giant hand engulfed his head and he was lifted out of my line of sight.
‘Once you’ve done interrogating the intruder, take him
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