CHAPTER NINE: VIEW TO A DEATH
Piggy sifted absent-mindedly through the supplies pile, looking for something when not even he knew what he was searching for. Thunder rumbled above him, rain pattered through the holes in the building that hadn't been patched yet. Ralph watched him with little interest, waiting for something he could do. It was near night-time now, but the torches they had hung from the ceiling kept up a precarious lighting. However, they had a limited amount of batteries.
Ralph sighed and slouched farther onto the floor. He knew that they were all living on borrowed time now. How long had they been stuck here? Did it even matter anymore? They were running low on supplies in every area; nothing lasted forever. Tensions were growing higher each day.
Ralph didn't know much. But he knew enough to know that he didn't want to die here. Not after coming so far. Not after succeeding for this long.
"Ralph." Piggy piped up, "What do you think comes next, I mean, what should we do now? We need to get rescued."
"I know." He answered slowly, "But I just don't know what else we can do…What do you do when you got nothin' left?"
In response, piggy went back to rummaging through the scattered heap. There was a noise from the entrance of the meeting hall. It was slight, but it was noticeable.
"Huh…" Ralph started. He didn't have time to voice his fears to his companions. Not a moment after the noise was made; a little silvery tube was thrown from its source and bounced to his feet. The blonde stood up and kicked the thing. It turned, hissing, so that its label was revealed.
GAS BOMB- PULL RING AND THROW. WILL ENGAGE AFTER 15 SECONDS.
Too late, Ralph realized what this meant. He shouted in alarm and warning, but no one heard. The canister popped and exploded into plumes of grey smoke and debris. Ralph coughed and stumbled backwards, knocking the podium over in the process. Screams rang out form the din; both of victory and fear. He tried to get up and go to those who called for help, but someone barreled into him and knocked him backwards again. Shrieking in surprise, he reached vainly for his weapon and only defense, tucked safely away in his shirt pocket. It fell with a clang somewhere to his right.
Ralph looked at his attacker.
He was staring right into the fiery blue eyes of Jack Merridew. His own eyes widened and he tried to squirm free. It was no use; Jack had him pinned soundly to the floor.
"Jack!" He shouted above the clamor of the fight, "Let me go!"
"No way!" The red-head laughed, "Why would I do that?" He pushed something against Ralph's throat, making it harder for him to breath. He realized with a start that it was the cold, buzzing surface of the cattle prod. "Now I get to have my way with you. I could do whatever I want right now…" A wicked smile came across his face.
"Wh-what are talking about?" Ralph cried, trying to kick the warrior away. Nothing was working.
"I'm going to kill you of course." Jack replied, acting like he wasn't even aware of his opponent's feeble attempts to escape. "But first…let's have some fun." He pulled a knife from his cloak, taking his sweet time to choose, and waved it teasingly in front of Ralph's eyes. The pearly, shined surface reflected his expression eerily. He watched it pass by in awe.
Or, at least he pretended to. While Jack started to discuss what he would do next, Ralph's right hand reached for the location of his gun. It was already loaded; ready to fire…all he had to do was find it! His fingers touched cold metal. It was just the edge, just a little further.
"Hey!" Jack jammed the cattleprod's shaft horizontally into his throat. Ralph spluttered and choked, gasping for air. "When your superiors talk to you, you listen! You hear?"
"Uh-huh…" Ralph clawed at the cattleprod with his free hand. "I can't breathe…" Jack's grip loosened up and he looked puzzled for a moment.
"For someone who's about to die, you're awful worried about the small stuff aren't you?" He shrugged and turned the knife over lazily. Ralph inched towards the edge of his pistol. Finally, he hooked his finger around the trigger and smiled. Jack noticed this with surprise.
"You look happy-augh!" the red-head let out a pained scream as Ralph pulled the trigger into his side. Jack got to his feet and stumbled backwards, holding his right side and disappearing into the smoke. Ralph had no time to lose. Without thinking, he pushed off the ground and hurtled after Jack, who was lying collapsed on the ground.
"The roles have been reversed, Jack." Ralph declared. There was something new blazing in his eyes; the look of a killer. He aimed the barrel of his pistol between his enemy's eyes. Jack let go of his wound and guarded his face vainly with his bloodied hand.
"Just do it already." Jack weakly hissed, "There's no use in delaying it." The expression Ralph held changed. His stance faltered. He lowered his weapon, though still kept it ready.
"I'm no killer." He whispered, "We're not the same. Just leave, Jack. You and your warriors ain't nothing but trouble." Jack slowly stumbled to his feet and looked Ralph steadily, cautiously, in the eyes. He made no motion to retreat. "GO!" Ralph screamed. He fired all his rounds into the floor beneath Jack's feet, sending splinters of wood into the foggy air. It was beginning to thin now. Jack stooped slowly to retrieve his cattleprod when the rounds were spent and turned to leave. Ralph almost immediately regretted the decision. But he couldn't go after him. Having Jack Merridew around had always been a risk anyway.
Instead, Ralph ran back to the podium to assess the situation. Most of the fighting had cleared up already, albeit a few small squabbles involving angry littluns. Suddenly, Ralph realized something with a jolt. Jack had given up so easily…which meant…
Jack's vendetta against his leadership wasn't the real goal here. There had to be something else.
Crazed screaming erupted from the SHELL column. Ralph acted upon instinct and ran to it, abandoning his gun due to its lack of ammunition. If worse came to worse, he'd have to use his fists.
Ralph sprinted down the hall and stopped short when it opened up and the luminous cylinder that was GlaSIS came into view. The usual blue glow illuminated the room softly, but there was an unusual high-pitched tone that echoed on endlessly. Roger stood dauntingly in front of the AI mother, casting strange black shadows across the room. His sniper hung loosely from his right hand, like normal. However, something else was pulling at his left arm, screeching protest at the dark warrior.
"Stoppit! Roger stop, please, please! You can't! Please!" Simon was crying vainly; the tears cut tracks on his cheeks, making his bright green eyes seem even brighter. His hair was wet with rain. Something glowed in one of the pockets on his cloak, though only faintly. Roger turned to his persistent assailant, looking rather agitated. He lifted his right hand and put the barrel of the gun to Simon's head. The younger boy froze. Ralph wanted so bad to move forward, to make his presence known…but what would he do then? It would probably just make the situation even worse if he charged in, unarmed and unprepared. All he could do was watch in terror.
"One shot." Roger muttered. "Bam. That's all it takes. That one shot would end all my troubles. Problem is…" he smiled a little and took the rifle away from Simon's temple. "…That's not my job here. So you have to wait." Without warning, without any time to even notice, Roger whipped the rifle towards GlaSIS and pulled the trigger.
A million tiny crystal fragments flew into the air. Little cracks raced up the sides of the tube where the potency of the shot had failed to reach. Simon watched in wide-eyed horror as his mother shattered and started to cease to exist. Nothing was said; nothing could be heard but the sound of the glass cracking and breaking and the final cries of the dying machine.
"HALE PROTOCOL!" It shrieked, "INITIATE HALE PROTOCOL! SIMON-" The ghostly, now human-like female voice cut off and dropped. Nothing was left now.
Nothing.
Roger pushed past Ralph as he made for the mortified Simon. Ralph grabbed the young boy by the shoulders and tried to tear him away from the broken shape of the one he loved.
"Simon! Simon! Look at me! What just happened? What's Hale Protocol?" He shouted. Simon trembled uncontrollably and stared on with a hollow, empty expression. He turned his gaze to the chairman just slightly before falling forward into the glass with a thud. Ralph checked the boy's pulse and sighed in relief. He was alive at least.
Ralph tried to lift Simon up to carry him somewhere not as dangerous for a nap. Something rolled out of his pocket and landed with a clink by Ralph's toe. It glowed and shimmered uncertainly; like it was worried or asking a question. There was a crack along its foggy glass surface.
As Ralph bent to retrieve it for Simon, the deformity reached farther.
….
This chapter is rather short for me….I'm not sure I like it. I might change it later…Thank you for reading, even though this one's a little late. If you have questions, comments or concerns, please leave them in the reviews. Thanks again!
