Cruel Reality Extended Sample

Cruel Reality

Extended Sample

(First 30%)

C. J. Whitley

1

[Note: This sample contains the first 30% of

‘Cruel Reality: Games of Life and Death,

the full version being available for $0.99 / £0.99]

Mike’s eyes opened slowly as he woke to a deafening roar. He felt like every hangover he had ever experienced was returning to haunt him all at once. There was the sound of dozens of scared voices, competing with thunderous noise, all magnified by the pain in his head. Wondering where he was and why he was there, he pushed himself to a sitting position as his eyes struggled to focus. He instantly regretted the movement as it felt like his brain sloshed around inside his skull. Closing his eyes he waited for a wave of dizziness to pass. He forced his eyes open and could not make sense of what he saw. Was that horrifying sound the radio-alarm malfunctioning? Was his brother playing a prank on him? He eventually made his eyes focus. This was not his old bedroom at his parent’s home, where he was spending the summer, back from university.

Mike found himself in a large, long room. Everything was made of metal; the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the supporting pillars. He was lying on a blanket and there was a bag lying at the end of it. To either side of him there were more blankets with unconscious people lying on them, with others beyond that. Rows and rows of the makeshift beds lined the room, some with unconscious forms on, some with people sat up, many of whom were crying and clearly scared. There appeared to be a mix of men, women and even children. There were a few people stood up, talking or looking around. One of these saw that Mike was awake and headed in his direction. As he approached with a swaying walk Mike suddenly became aware that it wasn’t his head that was spinning, or at least not just that. The room was moving. His slowly clearing mind put the pieces together. The roaring sound was engines – he was in the hold of a ship. Then his memory responded to the demands he was making of it – the van and the men that had attacked him.

He had been walking home from the pub in the village where he had grown up. Home from university for the summer, he had been sharing a few drinks as he caught up with old friends. He usually enjoyed the walk home from the pub, along quiet roads. It was a clear night in the early autumn and there had been a light, refreshing breeze. Despite that, he had been looking forward to getting into bed.

The gentle sounds of a stream had suddenly been drowned out by the sound of a vehicle approaching from behind. Slightly annoyed that he should be disturbed, he had taken a look over his shoulder. All he could see were the headlights and the vague outline of a van. Mike’s foot had caught on an uneven paving slab and he had reminded himself to pay attention to where he was walking as he stumbled, the van already as good as forgotten. But the van hadn’t passed by. It had slowed down as it approached him and he had cast a furtive glance back at it. It had trailed about ten yards behind and the headlights were all but blinding him. He had turned to face the van to see it suddenly accelerate and skid to a halt at the curb right by him. Doors at the side and back of the van had burst open and four men had leapt out and rushed at Mike.

Eyes wide with surprise and his heartbeat suddenly rushing, adrenalin had made senses dulled by alcohol instantly sharp and focused. He had felt apprehension, confusion, a certain degree of fear, but not panic. He had never been one to panic. He could have tried to run, perhaps back towards the pub, but he hadn’t. Mike had had no idea what their intentions were, but they clearly weren’t good.

The van had pulled up right next to him and the men were upon him instantly. He had reacted, stepping into them and punching the closest in the face, sending him flying back towards the van. He’d caught them by surprise. The momentum from the punch had made Mike overbalance and stumble and one of his assailants had caught his left arm. As he attempted to throw a punch at the man holding him a third man had reached the fray and grabbed Mike’s right arm. There had been a fourth attacker approaching with what looked like a handkerchief in his hand. In that moment Mike had kicked out hard to his right, catching the knee of the man holding him. With a satisfying crunch of bone and snapping of tendons, the man let go and flailed to the ground as Mike threw a head butt towards the face of the man still restraining his left arm. It had landed square in the nose and blood exploded out of it, but the man had not let go. By that time the initial attacker had recovered and piled back in with a strong right hook, landing the blow on the side of Mike’s face, and his world had swayed with dizziness before the two men threw him to the ground, pinning him. A white cloth came down over his face with a strong smell of chemicals. His head went light and he had heard one of the men say something incomprehensible as he had descended into the blackness.

Returning to the present, the man now approaching was a tall, broad guy in what looked to be his mid or late forties with thinning brown hair. Mike was more than a little wary, but waited silently. As the man arrived he looked Mike over then said, I don’t suppose you have any idea why we’re here? It wasn’t really a question as he sounded like he already knew the answer.

Mike gave a slow, confused shake of his head and replied, I was about to ask you the same thing.

The larger, older man responded, Well, it looks like we’re all in the same boat, and with that he extended a hand towards Mike to help him up. Mike smiled, though the other man did not. He couldn’t tell whether the man hadn’t realized the pun, or he just couldn’t find any humour in the situation. As Mike was hauled to his feet, the man introduced himself, I’m Jonathan Knight. Call me Jon. That’s my wife and two daughters over there, though my younger daughter is still unconscious. Mike looked to where Jon had indicated. Seeing Jon pointing towards them, the wife gave an unsure wave, while the older daughter, a pretty young woman of about twenty, gave a nervous smile as she stroked her oblivious sister’s hair. Mike returned a gentle smile, and then turned back to Jon.

I’m Mike. I mean, I’m Michael Paulson, he introduced himself. Taking another look around at the mix of people, several groups of what he could now clearly see were entire families, he said to Jon, They took your whole family? How’d they manage that?

Jon’s eyes dropped to the floor, and his reply came in a somewhat ashamed tone, as if he’d just been accused, I let them in, though that was followed defensively with an explanation. We were sat down finishing dinner and there was a knock at the door. I thought it was my brother – he often stops round at that time of day – so I just unlatched the door and let it swing open. But it was a group of men in masks. They didn’t say anything. They just charged in and knocked me over before I realized what was happening. Then they used something like chloroform to knock me out and went after my family. We didn’t have a chance! Mike nodded along. He remembered now the chemical soaked cloth. Jon looked at him, as if daring Mike to suggest that there was more he could have or should have done, but Mike just nodded with understanding. Jon continued, Then I woke up here a few hours ago. What about you? Is that from when they took you? He said the last with an indication to something on Mike’s face.

Mike’s hand went to his face and he only now realized that his right cheek was quite heavily swollen, and he thought it likely that he would have a blackened eye. Yes, it must be. I was walking home at night and a van pulled up. Four guys jumped out and attacked me. I tried to fight, I think I even took one down, but ….. You know the rest as well as I do.

Jon gave a look of appreciation and said, Well, I’ve looked around a bit and you’re one of only a handful with any apparent injuries. I get the impression that they managed to take most of us completely by surprise and without much resistance. It seems to have been well planned and executed. Jon saw the question in Mike’s eyes and didn’t wait for it to be voiced. There isn’t the slightest indication of what they plan to do with us. My best guess is that they want us as hostages for ransom. Although, they’re going about it in a bit of an odd way.

Mike gave him a quizzical look and the prompt he seemed to be waiting for, How so?

With a slightly thoughtful tilt to his head, Jon replied, Well, they don’t seem to want us to suffer. They’ve given us blankets, food, water, even pain killers, he nudged the bag on the floor with his foot. He then pointed down to the far end of the hold and continued, There’s toilets and sinks down there. I don’t get it. They kidnap us, with pretty terrifying effectiveness, but then seem to be trying to look after us. He then lowered his voice a little, I mean, if you’re going to ransom hostages, surely you’d want the people you’re extorting to believe you wouldn’t hesitate to kill the hostages. Or worse. And it gets stranger. How many people here do you recognize?

Mike was caught a bit off-guard by the question, but took a few moments to study as many faces as he could see. He was a little surprised to find that there was not only no-one he knew, but there was no-one that was even vaguely familiar. A feeling of being alone touched him, but passed quickly – he wasn’t a particularly sentimental or emotional person. However, neither was he an insensitive person and considered how many of the people, upon waking, would feel completely isolated to find no-one they knew. He looked around again, taking in just how many of the faces had tears in their eyes. He shook his head. None. Why?

Jon gave a very serious look. I’ve spoken to a bunch of the people that have woken, and apart from the cases where whole families have been taken, no-body is even from the same town. I’ve spoken to people taken from London, Cornwall, Wales, Scotland – my family and I were taken from Yorkshire. Where were you–

Mike didn’t wait for him to finish. His mind whirled with this new information. He interrupted Jon, though he was speaking almost as much to himself as to Jon, They don’t plan to ransom us.

Now it was Jon’s turn to be surprised and confused. How do you know? he questioned.

There must be over two-hundred people in here. They took us from all over the nation and put us all onto this ship that they must have had ready and waiting, apparently customised for this specific use, all without getting caught. This is a huge operation. Whoever is doing this, it involves hundreds of people and they command a lot of resources. That means they already have a lot of money. The risk involved in all this couldn’t be justified by ransom money, which they’re not guaranteed to get, when they must have spent a great deal to organise it.

It took Jon a moment to process everything Mike had just said. Eventually he nodded slowly and said, That makes sense. So what else could they want with us? Mike could only shake his head. Jon suddenly turned, saying, We should discuss this with the others.

Mike’s hand whipped out, catching Jon’s arm and he said, Jon, wait. He stepped in closer to Jon and, keeping his voice low, said, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

Jon turned back and, with an eyebrow raised questioningly, he asked why not.

Mike explained, Until we know why they have taken us, it is probably better to let people believe that we will spend a little while on this ship, be ransomed, then everyone will get to go home. Otherwise people will start imagining the worst, which won’t benefit anyone.

Jon looked Mike in the eye, contemplating. He then asked, So what do we do?

Mike silently mused to himself. It had happened like this in many of his jobs. One day he was the new guy, not knowing what he was doing. But all too soon his colleagues, even those that had been there far longer than him, were seeking out his advice.

As Mike thought, he realized how hungry he was. He picked up the bag by his feet and dug around in it. There were sandwiches, biscuits, fruit and a couple of bottles of water. He took out a sandwich and a bottle of water and spoke to Jon. How many ways in and out of here are there?

Jon replied, There were three doors and a hatch, but two of the doors and the hatch have been welded shut, he indicated their locations as he spoke, then pointed to the final door, at the other end of the hold from the toilets, That looks to be the only way in or out but there’s no way to open it from this side.

Mike looked around, considering this. It seemed that their captors were leaving nothing to chance. The ventilation shafts were too small to fit even a child through. It appeared that they were completely at their captors’ mercy. As he looked around, he noticed that there were security cameras around, and speakers too – perhaps part of an announcement system. There may have been no clues left as to what was happening to them, or why, but perhaps they’d be told.

Temporarily dismissing thoughts of escape, Mike considered other priorities. There are going to be others waking up scared. We need people greeting them as they wake, like you did with me, explaining what little we know, letting everyone know that we’re all in this together and that we’re all going to look after each other. If we can get a few people doing it, we might avoid panic.

Jon nodded along as Mike spoke, and then said, Yes, of course. I’ll go speak to some of the others and see if they’ll help. With that Jon turned and headed back towards his family and the group of people stood talking to them.

Mike took a bite of his sandwich then took a few steps to his left, where he saw some movement of a body. It was a lad who he judged to be a few years younger than himself, perhaps twenty-one. He was another who had a few injuries – cuts up his arms and swollen knuckles. He opened one eye and it swept around before settling on Mike. Then the other eye opened and he spoke, Who are you? What happened to me last night? Have I been arrested? then he must have registered the bruising on Mikes face, as he added with half a grin, Mate, you look like I feel. His hand went to his head as if he was trying to contain the headache that Mike knew he must be feeling.

The man made no effort to sit up so Mike spoke down to him. You don’t look so great yourself. You haven’t been arrested. What’s the last thing you remember?

Noticing the injuries on his arm and giving them a surprised appraisal, he replied, It was my friend’s twenty-first birthday last-night. Last thing I remember is doing shots of tequila at the bar. Looking from the bruising on his knuckles to the bruising on Mike’s face, he asked in a slightly concerned tone, Did you and me get into a fight last night?

Mike found himself smiling at the lad’s drunken ignorance. I wish it were so simple. He sat himself down on the floor next to the young man and extended his hand, I’m Mike.

I’m Jason. Do you know what happened to me? Mike shook his head and began to explain what he did know.

2

Kayleigh stroked her sister’s hair slowly, as much to soothe herself as for her sister’s sake, who hadn’t yet woken. She watched her father leave the knot of people he’d been talking to and head over to a young man who had just sat up, revealing a bruised face. Perhaps not everyone was taken so easily, she thought. She had been going over it in her head – when the masked men had burst into the kitchen where they were sat finishing dinner, she had just frozen. Her mother had jumped to her feet, shouting her husband’s name, concerned for his safety. Her younger sister, Scarlet, had screamed. Kayleigh had done nothing. She had just sat, watching. It had all been so sudden. Her memories of the event were almost like those of another person who had been watching her, one whom had no control over her body. She kept going over what she could have or should have done. She could have grabbed a knife and tried to fight. She should have got up and tried to run to get help. It was all irrelevant now, but that didn’t stop her mind torturing her over it.

After helping the young man to his feet, Kayleigh’s father had pointed over to her and her mother. The man was average height, with hair that looked somewhere between blonde and light brown, with an average build. All very average, except his eyes. As the stranger’s eyes lifted to look at them they seemed to pierce her. Even in the dull artificial light of the ship’s hold she could see the colour of his eyes as if he were stood right in front of her, and not the other side of the room. His eyes were a greyish-blue, which she might have expected to be a dull colour, but these eyes were alive with energy. While he had a slight air of disorientation, there was no panic, no fear – he simply looked like he had walked into an unfamiliar building for the first time. As her mother raised a hand in a wary greeting, Kay found herself giving a small smile. He returned a more confident smile, along with a nod towards them both. Again she was struck by how normal he made it look, as if the entire situation was an everyday occurrence.

Kayleigh’s mother, sitting the other side of her younger sister, was struggling to accept that they had been kidnapped. She seemed to think it might all be some sort of nightmare. Kayleigh and her father had woken at almost the same time, and were among the first few to wake. She had come around first, but her father had already been stirring and she had roused him quickly. While she had been scared, panicked and weeping, her father had reacted to this by setting about reassuring her. He had ignored the why, where and how and had simply concentrated on the fact that they were all together and apparently unharmed. Kayleigh was a practical person and knew that panicking and feeling sorry for herself would accomplish nothing. She had calmed herself and began discussing the situation with her father. Neither could come up with any ideas as to who might have done this to them, why they had been chosen or what they had been taken for. Then, seeing other people begin to stand, looking as confused and disorientated as themselves, Jon had left her to watch over her still unconscious mother and sister and gone to talk to the others.

When Kay’s mother had opened her eyes Jon had come dashing back. After checking that she was unharmed and promising that he wouldn’t let anything else happen to them, he had explained that no-one had any more idea of what was going on than they did. Further to that, he told of how they had explored the hold of the ship and found toilets and sinks, which suggested that they may be on board for a while, and that there was no way out.

Kayleigh’s father now turned away from the young man and headed back towards his family. As he arrived he gave his younger daughter a concerned look and asked, No change with Scarlet then? though it was a rhetorical question and he didn’t wait for an answer. "That fellah over there seems a sensible sort. He pointed out that we should be a bit more organised in helping each other, especially those just waking up, all alone. Try