49. Grey Plastic
Grey Plastic
Dylan
Midnight. A red light lit the end of the tunnel illuminating the spartan walls, the roar of spinning blades echoing towards them. A black helicopter awaited them, sleek, built for stealth.
She climbed aboard, the inside all brushed aluminium finishings, various straps and poles hanging from above. Dylan and Isaak were securely strapped into their seat belts. Isaak was carrying the lobster phone inside his side bag.
They’d slip in with the usual night air traffic, Elodie explained.
Drones and helicopters were a common sight across the Thames, navigating the city far below zeppelin altitude.
The plan was for Isaak and Dylan to get to the warehouse first in the helicopter, while Sacha and Elodie travelled by van, with Talia in tow.
A staggered arrival would allow the two of them to investigate the building more discreetly.
And Sacha and Elodie would bring Talia inside.
It was the only way to save her, since she needed to be physically near them when they found her in the Tapeworld.
The scale of the operation, the technology available to her… Dylan wondered again if Elodie was really working for one of the Kingdoms – whether this one, or a foreign one. But they had no choice but to trust her.
The helicopter lifted slowly into the air, Elodie’s puke-green hair becoming smaller and smaller as Dylan looked down.
The pilot was a masked enigma, who didn’t respond to any of their requests for information.
As they left behind the busy streets of Shoreditch, their speed made waves in the peaceful river.
The helicopter landed across the Thames on a deserted square a few minutes’ walk from their target. The two of them scrambled out, and the helicopter took off, back to the Royal Car Wash.
“First time in a chopper,” Dylan said, pulling the faux-leather jacket close. The wind was biting.
“I’ve been in one before, for a stunt with the London Lazarus. Not a fan.”
“You don’t like heights?”
“Not when I’m strapped to a VR headset trying to frag Sacha in mid-air.”
She grinned.
They walked the suburban streets towards their destiny.
In contrast to the bustle of Shoreditch and London’s beating work centre, this was a quiet former residential area.
The buildings capped at two or three stories at most, converted warehouses from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, some in sandstone, some in concrete, many adorned with wooden beams.
The moon shone brightly in the sky.
Dylan’s eyes darted left and right as they walked, looking out for any passersby. But they were in luck. The place was deserted.
After turning a corner, they arrived at the location Elodie’s analysis had pinpointed. The building was the same architectural style as the surrounding ones, but it was more run-down, haphazard graffiti all over its walls.
“Elodie,” Isaak said, speaking through the comms in his ear, “any sightings?”
“Astrid is still at Crypterra HQ, where she’s expected to stay for at least the next few hours. Jewel’s whereabouts are unknown.”
Dylan looked at the warehouse in the distance. “I don’t see anyone. Come on.”
They hopped over overgrown clumps of grass between the cobbles in the road, a slight wobble on Isaak’s side on account of his knee.
“Well, we know it’s not completely abandoned…” he said.
The secluded entryway to the warehouse was covered by a metal shutter, hidden from the moonlight by nearby builds.
Isaak produced a metal canister from his side bag. He knelt down and sprayed a chrome substance onto the lock securing the metal shutter, large enough for a van to drive through. After a few seconds, he kicked the lock and it fell apart.
“Help me with this.”
Kneeling, Dylan grabbed the bottom of the shutter and pulled upward, and it quickly gave way. They ducked under, letting the shutter fall closed behind them.
Inside was a vast space, concrete pillars dotted across the large room.
Isaak pointed. “There on the floor, see?”
“Tracks?”
“No, worse.”
She looked closer. Among the trash and dirt caking the floor, there were dark red stains. Blood. “Fuck.”
“Did Elo give you a gun?” he asked.
“A gun? Fuck no. I don’t really know how to use one… Not to mention they’re probably extremely hard to get, though I wouldn’t put it past Elodie to be able to… Wait, did she give you one?”
“No,” he answered, looking unsure. “What do we do if Jewel shows up?”
“I’ll be ready for her this time.” She hoped.
The room was deserted. Astrid’s victims must be higher up.
“Look at the state of the place,” Dylan said. “How many people has she brought here? Sucking them dry of their senses.”
They climbed a set of stairs to the right of the door. The second floor was empty. They went up to the third.
“Fuck me.” Dylan wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stem the shiver running through her.
There were rows and rows of gurneys.
“So many people. Fucking hell…”
Isaak approached one of the beds. An elderly man with wrinkled skin and white hair lay unconscious, the grey plastic of a Crypterra Sleeper nestled around his head.
Dylan joined him, filled with dread.
The Sleeper was fastened so tight the man’s skin was red around the sides.
“They all have one,” Dylan said, looking around. “Her fucking army.”
The bed was tagged, they all were. 42 – Parker. “She’s numbering them? Fucking disgusting. These are people.” She walked over to another bed. A woman lay there, her mouth locked in a scowl. Sweat dripped from under her visor, pooling by her ears.
Her arms showed minor injuries, scratches and bruises. Maybe from a fight. She wore a dirty pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt.
“Bruises from struggling with her abductors?” Isaak said.
Dylan nodded. “To then be forced into the Tapeworld.”
Rain started hitting the windows, then came down in a torrent. A crack of thunder echoed through the room.
She looked over at the view. “If it wasn’t for those windows, we would never have found this place…”
Isaak took out the lobster phone and set it on a vacant stretcher.
Dylan grabbed a few of the black cables dripping out from the lobster and attached them to the Sleepers of a few of the people nearby.
Her foot tapped with nervous energy. “If I hold your hand when we tape in, will I be next to you in the Tapeworld version of this room?”
“I think so, yes. We’ll open a tape-tube leading to this place. It’ll be like when we went to the Boulevard.”
Goddess. That felt like a million years ago.
“Assuming Astrid hasn’t added some fucked-up substance to the tape-space,” Isaak added with a smirk.
She shrugged. “What’s a little risking your life to save your best friend?”
As Isaak continued to set up the phone, Dylan’s nervousness grew.
“You think it’s safe for both of us to go in? With no one to watch over us?” she asked.
“If you go in alone, I’m just gonna be outside worrying about you. If I go in, you’ll worry about me.”
She agreed. They found a couple of empty gurneys, though both had numbered name tags.
“These people must have died…” Isaak said.
“That’s… That fucking cunt.” But there was no time to think about the fact that they were lying down on the beds of the deceased. “Wait. Can you hear that?”
The whimpering muffled moans of the people around them rose to the surface, breaking the silence in the room.
“We have to take this bitch down!” she hissed, slamming her fist onto one of the beds. “Ow!”
Isaak grabbed her hand, rubbing the side she’d hit. “Does it still hurt?”
“It’s okay… I’m sorry. I should have known better. I’m so stupid.” She looked at his hand, the one he broke punching the wall, then up at him. “Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to call you… Goddess.”
“Don’t worry about it, girl. I don’t want you to repeat my mistakes.”
He rubbed her hand up and down, his strong fingers loosening the tension, helping with the pain.
The sleptigrades around them lay still, sad somnambulants of the Tapeworld.
It wasn’t fair that she was here, with this boy that she loved, while these people were taken from their loved ones to have their minds trapped.
Her heart swelled, and her breathing threatened to get too fast. She lay back on one of the empty beds. He stroked the back of her neck and bent down for a kiss.
Cupping the back of his head with her hands, she hung her arms on his shoulders and went for a deep, passionate kiss.
There wasn’t much to say. It was time to tape in, to risk everything to stop Astrid and save Talia. She did it gladly, and he did too.
Isaak lay down on his own hospital bed, and tore off a chunk of the black tape.
Dylan grabbed the roll hidden in the side of her Dr. Martens. She ripped a square of black tape, and held it over the right side of her head, where it was easiest to rip off if they needed to get out.
They held hands.
Isaak smiled at her. “Ready?”