Ciphers Matt Rogers (books for men to read txt) 📖

was able to reach out and touch both sides of the tunnel with his elbows. The air turned hot and foul, and the stink amplified, and their breathing started to echo, bouncing off the damp concrete.

Samuel muttered, ‘We’re close.’

King stifled a grimace. He thought of Violetta, stressed to the eyeballs, locked in her HQ in the tenement building, trying to keep her mind off the fact that her partner might get himself killed tonight. It was a brutal industry to operate in. She was fierce and uncompromising when she needed to be, and most of her coworkers — Slater included — probably thought she was a bitch. He thought she was one of the most respectable people he knew. It took courage you couldn’t describe to willingly accept that burden, and try to stay sane in the process.

So he remembered that, and made a promise to make it back to her.

No matter what.

The fog of war settled over him again. They kept moving, using the glare of the flashlight fixed to his MP7 to navigate the tunnel system. Samuel moved fast — almost too fast — and King watched Slater hustle to keep up. The heat became stifling, and sweat beaded across his forehead. A couple of rivulets ran down the back of his neck. He didn’t dare wipe them away. All his focus was on Samuel’s skeleton physique, practically dancing through the tunnels, manic and unhinged and—

Slater said, ‘Stop.’

Samuel froze.

Behind Slater, King froze too.

Slater said, ‘Turn around.’

Samuel turned around. His left shoulder scraped the concrete wall, hard, drawing blood. He didn’t even react. He simply stared Slater in the eyes with his soulless gaze.

Pain was nothing to him.

Slater wiped sweat off his forehead and said, ‘Where are we going, exactly?’

‘I told you…’ Samuel said.

‘You said this was a passage to cart in supplies. What sort of supplies fit through a tunnel this narrow?’

Samuel smiled, baring his teeth. ‘What are you thinking of? Stuff the size of refrigerators?’

‘You tell me.’

‘All they needed was CPU towers,’ he said, a psychotic glint in his eye. ‘The type you can fit in a large duffel bag.’

‘Who needed them?’

‘The people that did this, of course.’

‘It wasn’t Gavin?’

Samuel laughed, and it reverberated through the tunnel. ‘You think Gavin wrote malicious code to shut down substations? Are you fucking stupid?’

King said, ‘You know more about this than you let on.’

‘I know all of it,’ Samuel said. ‘I don’t understand how it works, but I know what it is. They told me that much before they threw me away.’

‘Then give it to us. Help us stop it.’

‘No.’

‘We can make things painful for you.’

‘Good. I’d like that. Still ain’t tellin’ you anything I don’t want to.’

King said, ‘Who wronged you?’

‘Huh?’

‘Up there. Who threw you away? “Used and discarded,” as you put it.’

‘Gavin,’ Samuel said.

‘I can make things painful for him.’

Samuel smiled again, and King found himself dejected by such a simple emotion.

It was a kid with no sanity left, making a mockery of it all.

Samuel said, ‘No, thanks. I ain’t never got anyone to do my dirty work for me.’

Slater said, ‘If you’re leading us astray—’

‘You’ll do what?’ Samuel said, leering. ‘I see you two for who you really are. When you put all the bullshit aside. The reputations, and the ego. You’re scary men, yeah? You strike fear into people? They know you can hurt them. But then you run into someone like me. I’d prefer to get hurt. I don’t give a shit. What are you gonna do now? How will you make me talk?’

King didn’t respond.

Neither did Slater.

‘Simple answer,’ Samuel said. ‘You won’t. I own you.’

King said, ‘Then give us what you want to give us, and let us get on our way.’

Samuel pointed a finger dead between King’s eyes, and smiled wider. ‘That’s it! That’s what I was looking for. Humility. You know you can’t make me talk. So admit it, instead of going through with your macho crap. Then we can all get along.’

‘Can we hurry this up?’ Slater said. ‘We get the picture. But we’re running out of time.’

‘Then,’ Samuel said, ‘it’s a good thing we’re here.’

He took five steps backward, moving like someone who knew every inch of the tunnels off by heart.

He veered sharply left, into a ragged maw.

Disappeared from sight.

In unison, King and Slater lurched after him. Momentary panic rippled.

What if—?

But when they rounded the corner, he was still there. Patiently waiting for them, like a deranged guardian protecting the doorway to another realm. They were in another tunnel, but this one had been recently formed. The walls were jagged and uneven, dug out in a hurry. Supports held the ceiling up, and damp groundwater had mixed with loose earth to form a slippery paste over the floor.

Samuel lifted a shaking finger toward the sky.

King looked up.

There was a manhole there.

Firmly shut.

Another access ladder spiralled up to it.

Samuel said, ‘That will take you to the lobby.’

Silence.

Samuel said, ‘You don’t need me anymore.’

Silence.

Samuel said, ‘Can I go now?’

King said, ‘Sure.’

Samuel hesitated. Scrutinised King’s features, to discern whether he was telling the truth. Then he took a few tentative steps, rounded Slater’s impressive bulk, and made to step past King. And then King saw the façade slip. It was brief, and anyone else would have missed it, Slater included. But King was a keen, almost prescient judge of character, and suddenly he knew everything Samuel told him had been an act.

The kid wasn’t really soulless.

Deranged, sure. A psychopath, almost certainly.

But suicidal?

No.

He cared about his life. He didn’t want to die. He’d figured that pretending to lose all sanity was the easiest way to escape alive.

King grabbed him by the shirt and threw him back in the direction of the ladder.

Samuel barely kept his feet.

King raised the MP7 and pointed it square between the kid’s eyes.

Stared him right in the face.

And suddenly Samuel knew that King knew.

The kid grimaced.

King said, ‘You’re going up that ladder.’

Beside him, it all clicked for Slater. He said, ‘Oh.’

Samuel’s eyes turned to ice.

59

Slater put it all