29. Ripley
CHAPTER 29
RIPLEY
SINNER – OF VIRTUE
“Please!” I beg at the top of my lungs. “Stop!”
Arms shackled to a thick metal ring built into the wall above my head, I strain my shoulders each time I attempt to break free. Hours of agony and I’m still no closer to escaping. Every muscle feels like it’s been pumped full of lead and torn to shreds.
It doesn’t compare to the pain I’ve been forced to witness, though. There was a time when I would’ve enjoyed seeing Lennox scream himself hoarse and pass out. If I could go back to that mental place right now, I would. Anything to escape this.
“The suffering of others is a particularly interesting motivator.” Craven’s tone is conversational. “Most can have empathy for a stranger. But empathy for a peer? That’s far more powerful.”
His mouth frozen in an eternal yell that his vocal cords have long since stopped supplying, Lennox strains against his own shackles. He’s bound in a similar fashion, but unlike me, the spotlight is all his.
“Again,” Craven orders.
His partner in crime, the guard with a cap covering his closely cropped hair, flicks a switch on the battery-like machine placed a few inches from Lennox. It’s connected to several wires, each one secured to his bare chest by an adhesive pad.
The moment the lever is pulled, his body jerks. An intense electrical current is being fed into his torso, over and over, the shock far more powerful than a mere stun gun blast. This is brutal, repeated electrocution.
“What do you want from us?” I sob violently.
The professor deigns to look at me, his expression completely void of emotion. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Then stop! Don’t hurt him!”
“Believe me, I’m being paid a significant sum to hurt him.”
When this round of electrocution ends, Lennox’s head lolls forward, shining beads of sweat dripping from his skin. He’s barely lucid, moaning and swaying during each brief reprieve from the torture.
“Why?” I blubber.
Craven shrugs nonchalantly. “Incendia has orders to fulfil. Machines without morals are in demand, but the mind must break first. Only then can it be wiped.”
With that explanation, he crouches beside Lennox. Craven grabs a handful of his greasy hair, using it to wrench his head upright. I can’t stop myself from wailing as Lennox’s deep-set eyes struggle to open.
“Ready to comply, Patient Twelve?”
“Go f-f-fuck yourself,” Lennox moans.
Sighing, Craven lets his head drop. “Again.”
The process is repeated. Over and over. Each shock more horrific than the last. Lennox’s screams may be silent, but my tears offer a constant soundtrack. I can’t feel my own battered body anymore, only the fierce burn in my throat from shouting so much.
“What’s your name?” Craven demands.
When Lennox doesn’t respond, he nods to the guard who pulls a steel-tipped whip from the rolling table of instruments in the corner of the room. The guard retakes his position, the whip held high.
“Answer me, Patient Twelve.”
Still, Lennox doesn’t respond.
“Fine.” Craven nods to his goon. “Go ahead.”
I bellow as the whip strikes across Lennox’s lowered face. Blood sprays from the deep laceration it leaves in his right cheek, reaching from earlobe to nose. His tears mingle with the blood, forming a red veil spilling down his neck.
“What is your name?”
He chokes on a phlegmy cough. “L-Lennox fuckin’ Nash.”
The professor’s hands curl into fists. “Wrong answer. We can escalate if you insist on being stubborn.”
When the next weapon of choice is unveiled, what little hope I had left in my heart fizzles out. It’s a handheld drill, the bit sharpened to a gleaming point. Even the cap-wearing guard seems reluctant.
“Start with his hands and feet,” Craven instructs. “That ought to get things moving.”
The drill bit is lined up with his shackled left hand. I take the coward’s way out. My eyes screw shut as the mechanism begins to turn, the metallic buzz drilling into flesh and muscle. Lennox’s voice roars back to life with each ear-splitting scream he releases.
“Lennox Nash is dead,” Craven elucidates. “Do you understand?”
It feels like an eternity before the drilling ceases. Ribbons of tears soak my cheeks, leaking from my closed eyes. I don’t want to look. I can’t. For all his faults, not even Lennox deserves to be unmade.
“No,” his sonorous voice wheezes. “H-He’s not.”
I hear Craven sigh. “Such resilience. Perhaps we should focus on the girl to motivate him.”
Daring to look, I find the professor staring at me in contemplation. His goon has halted drilling, leaving Lennox in a bloodied state. I can’t even tell if he’s still breathing after forcing those words out.
When Craven takes a step towards me, I close my eyes, preparing for whatever comes next. I just hope Lennox has passed out and won’t have to watch my torture like I did his.
“Now then…”
The command to inflict more torture that I expect doesn’t come. With my eyes squeezed shut, I await my fate. The sound of a heavy blow and body crumpling follows instead. I dare to peek a single lid open.
“What an absolute piece of work.” Weirdly, the voice spilling from the guard now holding the drill upside down is light and feminine.
Eyeing Craven, he looks physically repulsed.
“You know what? The world won’t miss you, Professor.”
The guard repeatedly smashes the drill into the back of Craven’s skull. Each collision causes a stomach-lurching crunch, yet the guard doesn’t relent.
Thud.
Crunch.
Crack.
Blood pools around the professor’s head, peppered with chunks of broken bone. By the time the guard halts, panting for breath, not much remains of Craven’s skull but a semi-crushed shell.
He slumps, elbows braced on his knees. “Bastard.”
“Y-You,” I force the word past my constricted throat. “You killed h-him?”
Breathless, the guard shoots me a glance. “Sorry I couldn’t do it sooner. I’m working on someone else’s schedule.”
Still gaping at him, I feel like I’ve already fallen into insanity. I must still be mid-torture because there’s no way in hell this is really happening. I’ve hallucinated the whole thing.
“We don’t have a whole lot of time.” The guard lifts his cap to scratch at his short hair. “I can’t fucking think straight in this stupid wig.”
With each scratch, edges of dark hair lift, revealing a flash of lurid pink beneath. It is a wig. I watch in dismay as he taps a cleverly concealed, flesh-coloured earpiece slotted into his ear.
“Next time, someone else can pretend to be a man and help people get tortured to maintain cover. I do not get paid enough for this.”
This isn’t a guard at all.
She’s a mole.
“Hello?” She taps her ear again. “Come in, Theo.”
Seemingly getting no response, she curses. I watch the stranger stand up, tossing the drill aside with a look of disgust. She pulls a set of keys from her cargo trousers then heads towards me.
“Who are you?” I blurt.
“I work for Sabre Security.”
“You’re… one of them?”
“Unfortunately for me,” she replies sarcastically. “I get all the glamorous jobs.”
Squatting down, she works on unlatching the shackles holding me in bondage. The moment the metal slides open, I cry out. My wrists and arms have ballooned from all the abuse, so bloated and inflamed, I know an infection is brewing.
“My name’s Alyssa,” she speaks quickly. “And I’m really sorry, but I’m not here for you. My team is coming in fast, though.”
“I d-don’t understand.”
“Bancroft took one of our own. I’m here to extract him.” Alyssa pauses to locate the next lock. “We can offer you both protection, but you have to come with me now.”
“Come?”
“Ripley.” She frees my other wrist. “I know who you are. This is your chance to choose the right side.”
My arms slumping, I lay lifeless as she moves to unshackle Lennox. He’s unresponsive now. Alyssa cringes at the sight of his left hand, mangled and seeping blood.
“Sorry.” She grimaces. “I had a cover to maintain.”
“You h-hurt him!”
“And now I’m freeing him. A fair trade off, don’t you think?”
Working fast, she removes his shackles then gives him a nudge. Lennox moans in response, filling me with relief. He’s still alive, just completely out of it. Alyssa looks equally as relieved.
“It’s time, Ripley,” she declares as she stands. “I have to find Phoenix then meet the team for extraction. Come with me if you want to get out.”
“I can’t leave.”
“We can take Lennox with us!”
“It isn’t just him,” I whisper through falling tears. “I can’t leave the others behind.”
Staring at me in disbelief, Alyssa shakes her head. “It’s now or never. I don’t know when we can free the other patients. Bancroft won’t give this place up without a fight.”
“I know.” My eyes move to Lennox’s battered state. “But I won’t abandon them. Not even to survive.”
“So what will you do?”
I watch his chest rise and fall. “Find the others. Then run.”
She sighs, reaching into her trouser pocket to flourish a black keycard. I recognise it immediately. It’s the same as the one that Elon used to unlock the Z wing’s security system.
The matte black rectangle is tossed across the cell to me. Shakily, I take it, stashing the cool plastic in my bra.
“Wait for us to clear out.” She bends down to meet my eyes, explaining hurriedly. “This part may get messy. Stay hidden until it’s over.”
Before she can leave the cell, I summon my voice again.
“Thank you.”
Alyssa looks over her shoulder. “Sabre will help you, Ripley. If you make it out… you know where to find us.”
Then she’s gone as mysteriously as she arrived. The cell door clanks shut but doesn’t lock. I eye Craven’s practically decapitated body for a second before starting the agonising process of dragging myself across the room.
Traversing his long, powerful legs and the boxer shorts he’s been clothed in, Lennox stirs at my touch. I work on detaching the electrodes from his chest, tossing each wire aside. Some leave burned patches of skin behind.
“Talk to me, Nox,” I throw his words back at him.
A low groan rumbles in his throat.
“Words, big guy. I need you conscious.”
With all the electrodes discarded, I try to wipe some of the blood from his face and neck with my soiled shirt. The jagged slice across his cheek is oozing, his skin flapping open. When I accidentally touch one side, his eyes fly open.
“Argh!”
“That’s it.” I quickly pull the edge of my t-shirt back. “Wake up.”
“R-Rip?”
“It’s me.”
“Where?” he asks woozily.
“Still in the Z wing. There’s some kind of break in happening. We need to find the others and get away from Harrowdean.”
“H-How?”
“There must be a way out. Xander will know.”
“I c-can’t make it…” He hisses in pain. “Leave me.”
“Like hell. Thought we were allies?”
“Enemies,” he whispers.
“Not anymore, Nox. Not in here.”
Struggling to prop him up despite my own throbbing body, I search around the cell for anything I can use. The only items are the table of torture instruments and Craven’s body. Biting my lip, I move to the corpse first. Warm blood slips beneath my bare feet.
“He d-dead?” Lennox mutters.
“Yeah. Looks a bit like a smashed egg.”
“Good.”
Searching his lab coat pockets, I find a folded handkerchief. A quick pat of his suit underneath reveals an old flip phone suitable for a dinosaur like him. Nothing else. This will have to do.
I shove the phone into my bra, stumbling back over to Lennox. He looks like he wants to yell at the pressure I apply to his bleeding face with the handkerchief, but it comes out as a tiny, child-like cry.
“Suck it up.” I press down as hard as my own throbbing injuries will allow. “You’re bleeding.”
“F-Fucking bitch.”
“That’s more like it. Thought you’d gone soft.”
“Not likely.”
Lapsing into silence, I let him rest as I focus on staunching the bleeding. It feels like an eternity has gone by before I hear the first incoming noises.
Shouting echoes from the corridor outside the cell. A multitude of different voices. The wet thunk of repeated, frenzied stabbing. Someone grunting with exertion.
“Rip?” Lennox whispers.
“Shh.” I hold him tight. “Be quiet.”
Gut-twisting screams follow. They sound so close, I wonder what’s unfolding just outside the cell we’re cowering in. More shouts ensue. The words permeate through the steel door to reach us.
“You’re going to fucking die for that!”
It’s a female voice. Unfamiliar. I hug Lennox even tighter to me, like I can shield him with my own broken body if the owners of those voices come looking. I don’t know if they’re friend or foe. We have to stay hidden here.
Bang.
Lennox flinches in my arms at the sound of gunfire. It cracks through the Z wing like an almighty thunderclap. Anguished shrills follow, the shouts all intermingling to form a terrifying mental image of a battle unfolding.
My face hidden in Lennox’s shoulder, I tune out the unimaginable sounds. Part of me wonders if we’ve both died when silence eventually settles what feels like centuries later.
“Are we dead?” he grits out.
“Not yet.”
Lifting my head, I strain my ears for any noise. There’s a far-off banging. It sounds like cell doors are being systematically opened and closed. Briefly releasing Lennox, I grab the first instrument I can find on Craven’s trolley of toys. A scalpel.
“Someone’s coming,” I whisper.
Lennox grunts, attempting to move, but he can hardly crack an eyelid let alone defend himself. I stand with my back to him, ignoring every last protest of my body. The scalpel rests in my white-knuckled grip.
Another bang.
Another.
Inching ever closer.
“Nox?”
He groans in response.
“If this is it… I just want you to know that I forgive you.”
His reply is drowned out by the sound of our cell door flinging open. Three figures step inside, all barefoot and clothed in rags. My eyes bounce from the misshapen caricatures of human faces until I spot a familiar sight.
“Ripley.”
Rick pushes past the other two, stepping farther into the cell. Blood drains from my face at the gun clasped in his hands. It sure looks a lot like Harrison’s gun, the one he jammed into the back of my head.
He takes one look at Lennox, half-dead and slumped over, then focuses his attention on Craven’s caved-in skull. All eyes seem to be locked on that sight with varying looks of satisfaction.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss.
“Getting out.” Rick lifts his gaze to me. “Some dude who isn’t a dude let me out. You?”
“The same.”
“Well, now’s the moment. You need a hand with him?”
I tighten my grip on the scalpel. “You’d help us?”
Clothes dripping like he’s only just been pulled from his icy tub, Rick shrugs. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Ain’t that the saying?”
“We aren’t friends.”
“Doesn’t mean we both can’t walk out of here,” he counters. “No one’s stopping us. I handcuffed that sick fuck in the tub when he came searching.”
“Harrison?”
“He’s taking a little dip now.” Rick grins to himself.
“Alive?”
“I didn’t care to check. You coming?”
I’m hit by indecision. Even in the best of health, I have little hope of carrying Lennox’s massive, over-muscled body alone. But certainly not like this. He’s going to take some serious handling.
Resolved to my fate, I reluctantly place the scalpel down then pull the keycard from my bra. Rick lifts a brow.
“I can get us out,” I explain.
“Well, no time like the present.”
He gestures for the two others to help. Neither speaks nor meets my eyes. I recognise the woman, despite her bruises and sliced-up skin. She’s Patient Three. The one Harrison and Craven were reconditioning.
The other patient is male, his hair long and untamed. I don’t know how he’s maintained his muscles in here, but his arms are corded. Enough to lift Lennox’s dead weight with a bit of help from Patient Three.
“You know the way out?” Rick asks me.
“You don’t?”
“They pounced before we even had a chance to poke around the building. Never saw them coming. That professor asshole told me the others are already dead.”
“How can you be sure?” I limp towards the door.
“I checked. All the other cells are empty.”
Looking over my shoulder, I watch the two Z wing patients struggle to manoeuvre Lennox between them. He’s breathing unsteadily, his head still limp.
“They got names?” I whisper to Rick.
“Nah. Haven’t said a word.”
As we step out into the corridor, the smell hits. I should be used to it by now, yet nothing can prepare you for the scent of a bloodbath.
It’s everywhere. Covering everything. Walls, floors, cell doors. There are signs that a body has been dragged through the spillage. I have no way of knowing if our mysterious saviour made it out alive.
Not a single soul, though.
We’re in a ghost town.
“Where are all the guards?”
Rick picks his way through red spillages, heading where I point. “I don’t know. Unless we’re missing some secret society party down here, the place has been abandoned.”
Not likely.
When I slide on a crimson pool, Rick has to lunge to catch me. My knees are knocking together, I’m so weak. Numbness has swept in as my extremities switch off due to the constant onslaught of pain.
“I’m fine,” I struggle out.
“Yeah. You look it.”
“No more than Harrowdean’s whore deserves, right?”
He clears his throat. “Think we’ve both paid our dues down here, Rip.”
Honestly, he has a point.
We move slowly, barely able to shuffle ourselves towards the concrete staircase leading upward. Tackling each endless step feels like running a marathon on an empty stomach. The thick steel door seems forever out of reach. I can hear the grunts of the pair behind us struggling.
At the top of the stairs, I use the special black pass to unlock the door. My heart threatens to explode when there’s no response. I try several times, each failed attempt causing my breathing to hitch.
“Come on!” I hiss under my breath.
Trying one last time, I’m rewarded at last. The security system eventually buzzes, and I could cry from relief. The door clanks open loudly.
A cacophony of sounds immediately filters in, emanating from beyond. Sound can’t penetrate the Z wing’s fortifications, but it’s clear that something is unfolding outside. I hesitate, listening to the distant screams.
“What is that?” Rick’s nose is scrunched up, a divot between his brows.
“The reason why there aren’t any guards watching us.”
With that grim realisation, we inch out of the Z wing and into a lit corridor. The bare bulbs are illuminated, breaking up the nighttime shadows. I don’t even know what day it is or how long we were below ground. I’ve lost all concept of time.
Hanging back, I let Rick take the lead as we break outside. Lennox has roused a little on the way back up, his teeth now gritted for each movement. I swipe hair from his face to check on him, my hand sticky with his blood and sweat.
“You with me?”
“Just about,” he grunts.
“We have to find Raine and Xander. I don’t know what we’re walking into, but this is our chance to get out.”
“Following your l-lead, Rip.”
He slams his eyes shut as the two patients tow him onwards. I don’t know how we’ll manage to run let alone walk with Lennox in this state. We have to try, though. Bancroft won’t let our escape go unpunished when the dust settles.
Blazing, bright-white lights temporarily blind us as we’re greeted by the night air. Floodlights have been turned on, illuminating the perimeter fence and the manor itself. As we stumble through the trees to reach the quad, the racket intensifies.
“Holy shit,” Rick exclaims.
It’s chaos.
Violent, deadly chaos.
In all directions, patients run wild and free. Some armed with weapons, others battering the living daylights out of any remaining guards. It goes beyond mere beatings. They’re being incapacitated and restrained, then dragged into haphazard lines.
“What is this?”
Lennox lifts his head. “Hostages?”
“What?”
“They’re taking the guards hostage.” Rick’s head swivels as he gapes at our surroundings. “This is like a fucking prison riot.”
The five of us huddled together in astonishment, we spend several seconds taking it all in. The still-blaring alarm only adds to the havoc unfolding. With a smile blooming, Rick pulls the gun he stashed in his ragged waistband.
“This is it,” he proclaims. “This is how we take them down. If we have hostages… we can make demands. The world will have to listen.”
“They’re just going to send reinforcements in and kill us all!”
“Not if we barricade the doors.” The male patient holding Lennox speaks for the first time. “Secure every entrance and exit.”
“We can toss them scraps of dead guards if they dare break our perimeter,” Patient Three chimes in.
Looking between the three of them, I’m trying to summon a response when my name rings out. Rae’s face is covered in splattered blood, her auburn hair in disarray as she runs towards me.
I warn her off with a raised hand, fearing I won’t survive the collision. I’m barely remaining upright as it is.
“You’re alive!” she squeals.
“Rae.” I lock eyes with her. “What’s happening?”
“We’re taking over.”
“Who is?” Rick interjects.
“All of us.” Rae eyes the gun in his hands. “Is that real?”
He nods, clutching his weapon possessively.
Noticing our presence, a handful of other patients have gathered to gawk. We must look like we’ve swam through a vat of blood. Spotting Rick’s gun, a few more converge.
“We’re gonna kill the bastards!” Taylor is one of them, a ragged slice marring her brow line.
“No!” someone else protests.
“They deserve it!”
“But we aren’t killers!”
Everyone is shouting and arguing, violence still unfolding all around us.
“We need barricades!” Hands cupped around her mouth and voice raised, Patient Three can be heard above the bickering. “Chains! Padlocks! Furniture! Every exit has to be blocked!”
Nodding, Rick waves his gun. “They’re worth more to us alive. We can use the guards as bargaining chips.”
“Why?” a patient calls out.
“Because if we don’t have leverage, they’ll kill us.”
“Like Noah!” another person screams.
“We’re animals to them!”
“I don’t want to die in here!”
Rick begins to bark off orders, waving that damn gun around like a lunatic. It’s the role he always wanted. A righteous mob at his beck and call. With growing horror, I realise they’re all going to get themselves killed.
Backing away from them, I inch towards Lennox. Patient Three quickly surrenders his right arm to me, preoccupied by instructing the horde of patients growing all around us.
“What are you doing?” Lennox groans.
“I’m not sticking around for this. We’ll tunnel out if we have to.”
“We w-won’t get far like this.”
“Then we’ll take our chances.”
“Rip—”
“No! We have to run. Riots only end one way.”
Tugging his other arm from over the male patient’s shoulder, I’m almost crushed beneath his weight. Lennox huffs, fighting to regain his balance, but he can hardly hold his head upright.
“Ripley,” he wheezes.
“Don’t start! I’m not leaving you!”
“We can’t run forever.”
“Fucking watch me.”
Half-carrying, half-dragging him, I manage two steps before my knees give out. We go down hard, hitting the ground in a pathetic tangle. Lennox tries to avoid smothering me, but his gargantuan body thwacks into mine.
I’m crushed beneath his bulk, staring up at the night sky with a war waging all around us. I don't even try to fight off the tears, turning cold by the time they drip into my ears. We’re never going to get out of here. Not like this. I’m not strong enough.
“Ripley! Hey, someone help me.”
Hands grab hold of Lennox then heave, dragging him to the side. I pull in a breath, my entire body wailing. Rae hangs over me, a couple of others helping her position Lennox into a seated position.
“Where are you going?” She kneels next to me.
“Leaving,” I cry out. “We have to run.”
Her mouth twists into a grimace. “You can’t, Rip. There’s a protest outside the front gate. We’re surrounded. This is our only shot.”
“They’ll kill us all, Rae!”
“We’re as good as dead anyway,” she replies tersely. “Come on. We need your help.”
“I don’t help people,” I admit shallowly, pain overwhelming me. “I hurt them.”
Offering me a hand, Rae’s gaze is oddly steady. “Then start hurting the right people.”
In the growing madness, I stare at her hand. At the thick layers of cuts and scars peeking out from beneath her shirt sleeve. A mere glimpse of the evil I’ve inflicted here. The same evil I’m desperate to run from.
All I’ve ever done is run.
From memories. From mania.
From demons.
From my own transgressions.
Bloodstained hands clasping, I let Rae tug me to my feet. She offers a tearful smile that I can’t return. Not yet. Not until I’ve earned that privilege back. And she’s right—I’ll never do that by running. None of us will.
Her eyes shift beyond me. “Incoming.”
“What?”
“There!” a familiar voice yells.
Chest aching, I lean on Rae and turn. At the rear exit of the institute, two shadows stare across the quad at us. One in a crimson-splattered polo shirt, the other a hospital gown and aviator sunglasses. Both head towards us.
“Ripley!”
Hearing Raine shout my name is like seeing a tiny ray of sunshine peeking through this hellscape. His arm circling Raine’s shoulders, Xander steers him through the half-destroyed quad. His stare flits from Lennox to me, searching both of us.
Fuck me gently.
Xander Beck himself looks bloody worried.
The pair awkwardly stumble closer. Between guards being dragged into line, their cuffs stolen then attached to themselves, and the bark of orders being given, it feels like a battlefield stands between us.
But then I’m in Raine’s arms.
Freshly squeezed orange.
Sea salt.
Home.
“Rip,” he says urgently. “Are you okay?”
“L-Lennox… He… We…”
Grasping handfuls of his hospital gown, I collapse against him. Raine struggles to hold me upright until Xander intervenes and takes me from him, a hand cupping the back of my head.
“Xan.”
“Breathe,” he orders. “I’ve got you now.”
Shaking all over, I let Xander gently lower me to the ground. I’m placed next to Lennox, my back resting against his side. He stirs and looks up at his best friend surveying us both.
“Xan.”
“Hey, man.” Xander’s mouth does this strange, curving motion. “Good to see you’re… kind of alive.”
Lennox blinks rapidly. “Rip… is h-he smiling at me?”
I sag into him. “Yeah, I think he is.”
Lennox’s mangled, still-bleeding hand finds mine. Xander watches Lennox hold me with a cocked brow. The pair exchange some silent words, their eyes locked for several seconds until Raine interrupts.
“Guys? Plan?”
Lennox hacks up a mouthful of blood. “Ripley wants to run.”
“Run where?” Xander replies.
“I... I don’t know,” I admit.
“The place is surrounded.”
We watch the hysteria growing all around us. Rick is gesturing towards the lit-up perimeter fence, directing patients who have stripped the captured guards of all their worldly possessions. Anarchy is spreading like wildfire. But in the pandemonium, I’m not alone.
I have my enemies.
Now… my only allies.