Phantasia

Joel tossed aside the tranquillizer gun, its ammo now spent, and attempted to charge at the remaining Inquisitors. He’d managed to fell one – out of five – but he was sure his fists could take out the rest. An uppercut here, a right-hook th—

Joel cried out in agony as his ribs burst into pain once more, then lost his footing and crashed into the red carpet that adorned every single bloody corridor of the accursed mansion. As he lay prone, he wondered who was paid to vacuum it all, but was dragged out of his irrelevant, pain-induced daydreaming when an Inquisitor grabbed him by the back of his neck and hoisted him off the ground.

“This is the pride of Payne’s academy?” the Inquisitor sneered, while his companions laughed.

“I’m gonna kill every last fucking one of you!” cried Joel, flinging a rogue fist towards the Inquisitor’s face. The robed man absorbed it with his free hand, which began to crush Joel’s bony fingers like some kind of waste disposal machine. Joel screamed again.

“Not much of a man, is he?” laughed one of the Inquisitors.

“He’s all bones,” said another, who then stepped forward and ripped Joel’s shirt off, “Just take a look at—”

There was a shocked silence and Joel was thrown against a wall. Before he could move, the Inquisitors hoarded around him like vultures and, for a brief moment, he wondered if they were going to tear him apart. Then once snatched at his chest and waltzed away with a fist held high, clutching his prize tight. Then he took at look at the soft clay and its tiny digital detonator and separated the two. Joel’s last hope had just been shattered.

“Payne’s sending in suicide bombers?” said one Inquisitor.

“Truly he is a monster,” said another.

“Surely the Bishop can’t refuse to act now?” said a third, “We must strike out before Payne becomes even more desperate to destroy us!”

Joel struggled for breath, his chest screaming out with every tiny gasp of air he took. As the Inquisitors returned their attention to him, and in the moments before he passed out, he wondered why every choice he made, no matter how noble, always led to ruin.

***

Phoenie recoiled at the explosion, which was soon followed by a flurry of red robes pushing past them to escape the sound of collapsing masonry.

“Sweet!” said Doyle after whistling his approval, “Gotta give some credit to whoever pulled that one off,”

“There’s absolutely no way any of us had the explosives necessary for that kind off destruction,” said Phoenie, “And John sent a text about being underground before he was disconnected from the network,”

Lyra crossed her arms. “You don’t suppose Joel’s been fecking around up there, do you?”

“Why, Mr Gibson was asked to remain as backup…”

“And you expected any of them to follow orders?”

Phoenie paced back and forth as she tried to work out the logic of her backups and their decision to disobey her direct orders. Oh, how she would lecture them if the mission failed because of their irresponsibility! She knew it was a bad idea to put any faith in people like that in the first place. Why hadn’t she listened to her own reasoning?!

“This isn’t good. We came here to rescue and investigate, not destroy!” she said. She pressed a finger to the tiny device attached to her earlobe and waited for the dull vibration to confirm she was connected to the network.

“Hello? Hello everyone? This is Phoenie Rogan speaking, is everyone there? Mr Gibson? Ms Kent? Are you still outside?”

There was silence. The explosions were bad, but the disappearance of John, Theseus and Andromeda was worse. Phoenie was hoping it was just a technical malfunction, and John had warned them there was a small chance the signal could be blocked unintentionally.

“Please, do come in, anybody?” Phoenie pleaded. A moment later, a crackling signified an incoming response, but it wasn’t the monotone voice she’d been hoping to hear.

Chapter 19
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