Ben didn’t get much sleep. He had dragged his armchair into the corner of his living room and sat there, clutching the knife. His momentary dozes were interrupted by any sound, including the natural creaks of the house and the groans of cars passing by.

Daylight crept through his curtains and beckoned him to look out. He hadn’t the nerve to do so during the night, fearing they’d be at his window, ready to pounce through. His neurotic conclusions were tempered by the cold steel of fatigue.

They were gone. Or, at least they were not out front. Ben brewed a cup of coffee and went for a shower. The mirror represented his recent spiral accurately. His pallid cheeks were topped by two dark baggy rings. His hair reminded him of a mad scientist and his lips were chalky and cracked.

The shower sounded like a thunderstorm pounding between his ears. He held his hand under the rain in anticipation of the warmth. It never came. Ben sighed. He wouldn’t bother checking his gas, he knew exactly what had happened. He opted for a frosty blast. The cold night air had begun to take effect on his home. The heating must have cut out during the night.

Ben changed into some clean clothes and headed out. He looked around for the two men who had been staking him out. The coast seemed clear. He left his phone and laptop at home, he wanted nothing electronic now. Greg’s house was his first destination. He knew he’d be going to work soon so he wanted to catch him early.

The door opened and Greg bore down on him. “Hey, Greg, you’ll–”

Greg shoved Ben off his doorstep and went to hit him.

Ben fell back and raised his arm to defend himself. “What the?”

“You think you’re funny, freak?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Calling me up? Calling up my mother, telling me all that crap about how you know everything about me?”

“What? I didn’t call you at all!”

“Bullshit, I know it was you, it was your voice.”

“I don’t use my phone. I lost power and heat last night.”

“Cos you don’t pay your bills, dick. How did you get my mother's number?”

“I didn’t!”

Greg raised his fist again.

Ben raised his arms, “Look I swear, mate I didn’t call you or your mum last night!”

“So someone who sounds like you magically got my number and called me up?”

He shook his head, “No Greg, not magic, they stole it.”

“Oh, they stole you and made you call me then?” Greg kicked the side of Ben's knee hard.

“Ah, shit.” He scrambled up and backed away, holding up his hands. “Look, they can do all sorts. They threatened me last night as well, then shut my power off.”

“Pull the other one, pal.”

“I’m not kidding, two guys were outside my house all night, dressed in red.”

“Take your skitzo theories, and fuck off, if I see you again I’ll smash your face in!”

Ben nodded. “Look, I live at number–”

Greg slammed the door on him.

“Shit.” He got up and decided it was best to leave the guy alone. He felt he had a chance at a friend but Andrew had other plans.

Ben was out of ideas and patience. He started the walk towards the facility. He’d had enough. They destroyed his life and he wanted to see around face to face.

His legs ached and his feet pulsed with pain. The fit of fury that spurred him towards the SS9 facility had given way to fatigue. Sleep deprivation played a part. He looked like a drunkard as he staggered down the road.

He got to the gates in good time, about an hour's walk. Ben took the gate bars and rattled them before pushing the intercom.

“SS9 how can I help?”

“I want to speak to, Andrew.”

“One moment please.”

“He will speak to you in the cabin.”

“I want to speak to him in person. I want to see him, now!” Ben shook the gates furiously.

“Sorry, sir–”

Ben mocked her voice as he spoke back, “Sowwee sir, can’t do dat sir, waah waah, send that little shit out here, now.”

“Sir, I will have to call the authorities.”

“Get him out!” Ben found a stone and hurled it over the gate, “Come out you fuckin’ coward!”

A klaxon wailed and a red light flashed furiously. An automated voice called out through a large speaker above the gate: “Authorities have been contacted, please remain still and submit yourself upon their arrival.”

The honking roused Ben’s senses. “Crap.” He fled over the car park and down a bank. He could hear sirens wailing from police cars arriving on the scene. At the base of a bank was a shallow, wide river. Without a thought, he waded through the icy water. It was knee-deep in the middle.

He made it to the other side and fell forward on the grassy bank, then scrambled over the hill, darting towards an old council estate. He could hear the sirens of the police cars and yelling for him to stop. Ben was on thin ice from his last bullshit arrest and he wouldn’t have Dave’s support.

He weaved through the impoverished corridors of the estate, hopping over dilapidated fences and kicking through overgrown grass. He pressed his back to a wall and peered around. A group of officers were fanning out and yelling. “Shit, shit, shit.” He could hear another police car's siren blurring from the opposite end of the estate.

Ben desperately pulled at the handle of a door. Locked. The windows were all covered in cast iron cages to prevent squatting. God forbid homeless people wanted to take shelter in abandoned buildings.

He stayed low and crouched through a narrow alley. The sirens grew louder and he could make out what an officer was saying now. Ben knew this was it, they’d squeeze in on him and find him. The exhaustion and cold had closed in on his last nerve. He’d give himself in. At least in jail, he could sleep.

A back gate swung open in front of him. “Get in here.” A blonde woman in a red beanie waved him into the high-fenced garden.

Ben didn’t ask questions as he scurried in. He felt her shoving him into the open back door of the council flat.

“Get down,” she hissed.

Ben ducked. The room was darkened by the closed curtains, only a trickle of light slipped through the curtains. It smelt damp and mouldy and the must almost made him sneeze.

“Who are you?”

“Shh!” The woman shoved Ben’s head down and kept her hand firmly on the back of his neck.

The sirens whined as they sped by the flat. A few officers were talking and their radio buzzed and beeped. About thirty minutes passed before the lady released the back of his neck.

“Alright,” she whispered.

Ben rubbed his neck, “Who are you?” he whispered back.

“Hailey.” She moved to the curtains and peered out.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“They gone?” Another voice hissed from behind Ben.

Ben shot his head round to look where it came from, but it was too dark.

“Looks like it,” she said back.

A bright white light flashed from the doorway, casting a shadow of a large man. He approached Ben and set the electric lantern down in the middle of the room. “Who are you, then?” He said, accent Scottish.

“B-Ben, are you homeless people or something?”

“We aren’t even people now,” Hailey moved away from the curtains and sat cross-legged on the scraggy old carpet. She set the bag out in front of her and found herself a chocolate bar. She glanced at Ben as she pulled her beanie off, letting her raven hair fall free.

“I’m Terry.”

“Hi, Terry…I’m Ben.”

“Was et you settin’ tha’ alarm off?” The man knelt in front of the lantern and leaned forward. His long face was mucky and his beard was bushy and unkempt. Two small grey eyes flared underneath his thick brows.

“The one at the SS9 place?” Ben looked between them.

“Aye.”

“Yeah, I threw a rock at them.”

“Why? Are you fuckin’ retarded or something?” Hailey spat.

Ben’s eyes widened, “N-no…they ruined my life.”

“They ruined alls us lives,” said Terry.

Hailey nodded and bit the end of her chocolate bar before offering the other half to Terry. He took it and nodded.

Ben looked between the two, “How long ago?”

“Six months for me, three for Hailey,” Terry said while chewing.

Ben scratched his nose. “Who are they?”

Hailey shrugged, “Goverment or something’ Terry’s been inside.”

“You’ve been in?” Ben looked at Terry.

“Aye, fer aboot an ‘our, got mesel’ right out over wall.”

“What happened?”

“Nay nothin’ I gor out queck.”

“What do they do in there?”

Hailey stood up again to check through the window for potential patrolling police.

Terry leaned in, “I reckon they suck yer brains oot, turn you inta some zombeh or somet.”

Hailey looked back at the pair. “It’s indoctrination for sure, like torture. Everyone who goes in there for more than a day ends up weird. Happened to my partner.”

“What happened?” Ben looked over at her.

Hailey shrugged, “Everything was normal. My Husband lost his job, then I did…bills piled up. We got in contact with the support sector. I didn’t want to go…he went without me.”

“Do you still speak to him?”

“Ha, I tried, it’s like talking to a fuckin’ bank machine except no money comes out.”

Ben glanced at Terry, “What about you?”

Terry tossed the empty chocolate wrapper aside, “Hm? Same theng eh, lost meh job cos o’ me wrists, worked in a warehouse but couldnae lift naymore, then I got pulled intah SS9…too weird for me.”

“Did you speak to the support advisor? David?”

“There’s loads of them.” Hailey sat back down.

“What do you mean?”

“Loads of those support advisor guys. They are the ones who help you at first.”

Ben leaned forward and nodded furiously. “Yeah! They helped me out! I thought they were brilliant.”

Terry chuckled. “Until ye realise their goal es to get ye intah that zombeh factory.”

“I got a website, with loads of links that had videos of people doing stuff inside.”

Hailey nodded, “Yeah there are loads of them, dunno who’s spreading them around.”

“Are they real?”

Hailey shrugged, “Maybe? I mean, look at us.”

Ben stood slowly. “I should go home.”

“Home?” Terry laughed, “Nay home for you now, mate.”

“I still have a house.”

“It’ll be scoped out. Police will be waiting for ye tah come back.”

Hailey nodded, “They know who you are if they’ve been contacting you. If they arrest you they’ll offer you a plea deal, go into the SS9 nut ward or jail.”

Ben slumped back down. “So am fucked?”

“Well, we ‘ave been living outside the system.”

He shook his head, “Living in this council estate?”

“All over.” Hailey nodded, “You can come with us.”

“No, he cannae,” Terry interjected, “Sorry, pal, no offence aye, but yer a wanted man, they’ll be all over us, it’s hard enough to homeless as et es.”

Ben shrugged and stood up again.

Hailey slapped the floor with her palm, “What kind of way is that to be?”

“He’s right,” Ben said, “I’ll only cause you problems. I cause everyone problems.”

“Quite frankly we could use some fresh company.” Hailey smiled.

Terry shook his head. “I won’t get snipped for you, lad.”

Ben raised his hands. “I’ll head back home, don’t worry. I got supplies there.”

“You can’t go back home, Ben.” Hailey sighed. “You got two choices now, SS9 or on the streets.”

“How do you know?” Ben narrowed his eyes, “All I did was throw a rock, I ain’t going to jail for that.”

“Oh, they’ll arrest ye.” Terry looked up with a smile creeping beneath his big bushy beard.

“How do you know?”

“Cos they ded et to me mate, got ‘im fer nothin’.”

Ben huffed, “They arrested me already.”

Hailey’s hazel eyes sparkled with intrigue, “For what?” she was clearly keen for some new stories after being with Terry for two months.

Ben shrugged, “Terrorism.”

“What!” Hailey’s jaw dropped.

“Feckin ‘ell you’re hardcore.”

“It’s not like that. I made a joke about making a homemade bomb to my Abi cube. She reported me.”

“Ah, taddled on by your spy box. Good job genius.”

“Anyway.” Ben continued, “My SS9 advisor sent me a legal aid, got me out and everything. Then found me a job interview.”

“Bet that went well,” Hailey smirked.

Terry nodded, “Aye, that’s ‘ow they do it, get you in their pocket.” he scratched his bushy nose. “Well, we bettah be off, good luck, Ben.”

“Good luck.”

“Wait a bloody second,” said Hailey. “Ben, would you like to join us? We could do with a third.”

“Nay, Hailey. Your soft woman brain es gettin’ the way. That’s another mooth to feed.” He raised his hand at Ben, “No offence.”

Ben nodded.

“Yes, but we’ll have a third for night watches, and an extra pair of hands for scavenging.”

“He’s a bloody terrorist, Hailey.” He raised his hand to Ben again, “No offence.”

“Look, I can make this simple for you. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Hailey stood up. “Great job, Terry, he’s got no chance on his own.”

“Then tha means we got more chance without him.” Terry nodded to Ben “No offenc–”

“I’m probably just going to go to SS9.” Ben said.

Hailey and Terry stopped dead.

“You what?”

“Think about it. Is this the kind of life you guys want to live? I’d rather be a zombie and have a warm bed and proper food than live like this.”

“They’ll torture you or something,” Hailey spat, “You’ve seen the videos.”

Terry shrugged, “he has a point.”

Hailey shoved Terry lightly with one hand, “So you’re gonna join up?”

“I have considered it.” Terry huffed. “It’s getting harder every day. Though I ‘ave to say you’re pretteh weak for not even lastin’ a day, Ben.”

“Let me guess, no offence?”

“Nay I meant to offend you with tha’”

“No one’s going to SS9.”

“You can’t decide for, Ben ye onleh jest met that wee lad.”

“You two are bonkers.”

“What do you expect? We’ve been isolated with just each other for a couple of months.”

Terry chuckled.

“Isn’t there anymore like you guys?” Ben sat back down.

“Yeah. They end up getting picked off or vanishing. There was a movement I believe but it got flushed out.”

“Like rebellion stuff?” Ben leaned in.

“More like a bunch’o twats painten target’s on their backs.”

Hailey frowned, “It’s better to go down fighting, don’t you think?”

“Does anyone actually know what the hell happens in these facilities?”

“Only people who have been inside, and they never come out.” Hailey nodded.

“Then I’m going in.” Said Ben.

“Ahh, shet.” Terry hunched over.

“Is it your wrists again?”

“Hands, the lot.”

Ben looked at Terry, “What’s wrong?”

“Arthritis. Flares up a lot, especially now it’s cold. We have no medication for the pain.”

“I got painkillers,” said Ben.

“Can we have some?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“They are back at my house.”

“Fuck sake.”

“I can go fetch them.”

“What kind are they?” Grunted Terry.

“Oxycodone.”

“Feck that’s strong stuff, what do you have?”

“Anxiety.”

“Oh, not real pain then.” Terry winced.

“I never took them…I don’t like drugs.”

“Then I’ll ‘ave em.”

“He can’t Terry, they are in his house.”

“I can get them, I’ll be quick. I owe you guys one anyway.”

Hailey looked at Terry as he hunched over in pain. “Ok, we’ll be here still, but tomorrow morning we’ll be gone. We won’t wait for you.”

“Fair enough,” said Ben.

Ben eased out of the door and through the garden. He looked around for the police and remained ducked until satisfied. He had a lot of ground to cover. Ben wasn’t even sure if he’d want to go back to them, but something inside obligated this quest.

The chill had become bitter as it got deeper into the winter months. He wrapped his coat around him tightly and used the backstreets to get home. He moved in odd patterns. If anyone was watching him from a window they’d think he had lost his mind.

“What are you doing, Ben?” He whispered to himself. “Planning on bumming it with two rando’s in an abandoned council estate. Great plan.”