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Chapter 26 – Hey, if you’re not gonna eat this…

Chapter 26 – Hey, if you’re not gonna eat this…

[Location: Decontamination Depot t3rm1nu5 - Cafeteria]

Tom Salsbury pushed a fork full of cherry pie into his mouth. He had always been a big fan of sweet foods like cake, pie, and candy and the cherry pie tasted wonderful. Unfortunately, these types of delicacies were not normally found on the menu of an interplanetary refugee transport. Military style M.R.E.s had been his breakfast, lunch, and dinner since he took the job with Elixer Pharmaceuticals, so he happily relished each mouthful.

Jozef had given him an order five or six hours ago to remain with the prisoner, so except for the few hours he had needed to repair the repulsor, that was exactly what he was doing. Harry McCormick’s cell sat a few feet to his left and was set to isolation mode.

He swallowed the last bite of pie, let the fork clank on the white china plate, and leaned back in his chair. It was quiet in the cafeteria. He only heard the low rumble of the hydrogen compressor and the wisp of the H.V.A.C. system above his head.

Tom folded his arms across his chest, took a deep breath and then closed his eyes. He hadn’t slept in nearly sixteen hours and transporting the prisoner and repairing the repulsor had tired him out.

His plans from here on out were simple; walk back to the ship and finish installing the repulsor and then meet up with the rest of the guys so they could transport McCormick back to the Elysian Fields. In no time they would be back in space and headed for Mars, which would give him a chance to take a hot shower and get some shut eye.

After a few minutes, boredom set in and he reached into his pocket for the small device that controlled the prisoner’s cell. He thumbed the button to adjust the cell’s transparency.

Harry McCormick sat quietly inside of his cubed cell reading an e-book. The change in scenery caught his eye and he realized that the cell had been adjusted from isolation mode.

Tom tossed the controller onto the table and returned his arms to their position across his chest. “What ya readin?” Then he made a groaning noise as he stuck his arms sideways to stretch and yawn. He pulled his communicator from his head and tossed it aside.

Harry looked up from his e-book. “I’m very interested in science and technology. If I hadn’t become a murdering thief I bet I would have been an engineer or a scientist.” He continued to read. “For your information, It’s a chemistry book.”

Tom furled his brow. “A chemistry book? You gotta mid-term comin’ up or somethin’?”

Harry didn’t look up. “Yes, a chemistry book. Something you’ve probably never seen before. During the time I’ve been incarcerated I have read hundreds of books on chemistry, physics, calculus, electronics…” He lowered the book and looked at Tom. “I have an I.Q. over 145, which is classified as hyper-intelligent. My brain needs to be fed.”

Tom’s mouth twisted and his head bobbled back and forth, disregarding the conversation for lack of interest. He was more concerned with filling his stomach and tapped his mid-section. “Talkin’ about being fed…you want a piece of pie? The hostess with the most-est made three more pies for us; cherry, apple, and peach. I noticed them sittin’ over there,” he pointed, “behind the counter when I walked in.”

Harry put down his e-book. “Hmmm…” He pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger and cocked his brow in thought. “A slice of peach pie does sound pretty good right about now.”

Tom slid his chair back and began to lift his large frame to retrieve the prisoner his pie but was interrupted by Harry. “Have you seen Jozef?”

Tom sat back down. “Not since we ate. He was supposed to fix the repulsor but took off someplace—probably screwing around—so I had to fix the damn thing.”

Harry raised both eyebrows. “So you haven’t seen him?”

Tom leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest again. “Nope, freakin’ Russian ass-hole. He always pushes his crap on me.”

“It does seem like Jozef always gives you the shit jobs.”

“Hell yeah. Watch the prisoner, fix the repulsor. The guy’s a real ass-hole.”

“I bet you’re sick of always following his orders, huh?”

Tom snorted. “Fuck yeah.”

Harry stared at Tom. “How about you start makin’ a few decisions of your own?”

“Wouldn’t that be great?” Tom huffed.

“Well, how about you start right now? You let me outta this cube and you and I can finish off those pies. Would ya like that?”

Tom’s eyes locked coldly onto Harry’s, but he didn’t reply.

Harry’s mouth erupted with a grin that curled the ends of his lips. “And Jozef—he’d be livid!”

Tom continued to stare at Harry and snorted. “He’d fuckin’ blow a gasket if he saw you walkin’ around outside’a your cell.”

Tom wondered where Harry was trying to lead him with this conversation. He knew he wasn’t the smartest and felt a little intimidated by Harry’s intelligence. He didn’t want to fall into a trap and screw something up. Because if he did, he knew he would be on the receiving end of Jozef’s wrath and might even lose his job.

“He sure would. He’d have steam coming outta his ears.” Harry paused for a second and then spoke softly. “Come on, dude…do it. Let me out.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “You know I can’t do that.” He exhaled and shook his head. “That cube is locked down with a bunch of encrypted codes and shit like that. Even if I wanted to, it’s impossible.”

Harry leaned in Tom’s direction and quietly said, “What if I told you I know how to defeat the codes and open this cell?”

A smug look folded Tom’s lips as he slightly tilted his head. “I’d say you’re full of crap.” He picked up the cell’s controller from the table, ready to put it back into isolation mode. “This conversation is over.”

“Wait,” Harry steepled his hands together and begged.

Tom sat frozen with the controller in his hand.

“I can prove it to you.” He pointed to the controller. “Open the small battery compartment on the back.”

Tom turned the controller and saw the small door that Harry had described. He inspected it more closely then glanced up at Harry wondering if he was being led onto thin ice.

“Now open it up and remove the battery. There is a green circuit board underneath and a ten-digit number silk screened onto the circuit board.”

Tom coldly stared at Harry for a few seconds, trying to detect any hint of a harmful intention. Then he slowly slid the compartment door open with his thumb and used his thick fingers to remove the battery. As Tom peered inside, he realized that Harry was indeed correct. There was a long string of numbers on the circuit board just as Harry had described.

Tom glared at Harry in silence, then glanced back at the numbers. “Yeah…I see ’em.”

Harry continued with his instructions. “What if I told you that if you enter those ten digits into the controller keypad that it’ll bypass the encrypted lock and open this cell?”

Tom exhaled, staring at Harry and then back at the numbers. “No shit…” He pressed his lips together.

“Go ahead.” Harry nodded. “Go ahead. Try it. You’ll see I’m right.” His eyes sparkled.

“Bullshit. I don’t buy it.” Tom shook his head and pursed his lips. “How could it be that easy?” Tom threw his hand toward Harry in disbelief. “And how do you know all of this shit?”

“Like I told you, I do a lot of reading.”

Tom sat up straight and pounded the table. “Nope! Ya ain’t gonna trick me into it.” He pointed at Harry. “I know you’re tryin’ to pull some shenanigans and I ain’t gonna fall for it.” He pushed himself back into his chair and crossed his arms.

While Tom loved the idea of disobeying Jozef’s orders, he didn’t want to do anything stupid. Allowing Harry “Hellraiser” McCormick out of his cell might not be the smartest thing to do, but as he sat there, thoughts of pay back continued to pester his mind. His desire to disregard Jozef’s position and rebel temped him like an open bottle of ice cold beer sitting in front of an alcoholic.

Tom rested his hand in front of his mouth in a loose fist. “Let’s say I do Iet you out…” He leaned forward in his chair and pointed at the prisoner. “What are you gonna do?”

Harry calmly sat back in his seat and sighed. “I’m going to sit down with you and eat a piece of that peach pie you told me about. Then maybe we can play a few rounds of cards. Ya know, relax a bit.” He smiled.

“And what if you try to escape?” Tom peered at Harry with a stern look.

“Now think about this logically.” Harry held up one finger. “Number one: where would I escape to? We’re on a decontamination depot in the middle of space.” Harry held up a second finger. “Number two: you’ve got twelve inches and at least a hundred pounds on me. I’m sure if I got outta line, you’d squash me like a bug.” He lifted a third. “Number three: you have armor and weapons.” He held up his e-pad. “What am I gonna do, beat you to death with my books?” Harry paused and looked at Tom with a droll smile. “Am I right or what?”

Tom leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.

Taking orders every day from that Russian ass-hole is worse than eatin’ fuckin’ dirt. I’m sick and tired of it. Allowing McCormick out of his cell would piss him off to no end. It’d be like flipping him the bird. And he’s right. If he tried to escape, he’s got nowhere to go. Plus, I’ll just grab the little puke by the throat and stick’m back into the cell. Oh man…this is gonna be fuckin’ classic.

Tom looked at the ten white numbers on the circuit board. Still weighing the situation, he looked back at Harry for a few seconds. He grabbed a black marker from his pants pocket and wrote the ten digits on the table top in front of him. Then he put the battery back into the controller and replaced the compartment door.

Tom pointed at Harry and said in a deadly serious tone, “You try to escape or hit me or do anything—and I mean anything—that I don’t think is cool, I’m gonna pound you into a greasy spot on the floor and throw you back in your cage.” He paused and drilled a flaming stare at McCormick. “Got it?”

Harry smiled innocently and nodded. “Got it.”

Tom glanced at the ten digits scribbled in front of him and fingered them into the controller. And just as Harry had said, the cell opened. The side of the cube positioned in front of the prisoner disappeared while the other five sides remained intact.

“Well I’ll be a son-of-a…” Catching himself, Tom snarled, “Now remember, any funny business and I’m gonna pound on you.” Then he rested his hand on his side arm.

Harry raised both hands as if surrendering. “No funny business, I promise.” Then he meekly stepped out of the cell and breathed a huge sigh.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of D.D.315’s recirculated air. “This feels so good. It’s as if I’ve been born again.”

Harry walked to the table where Tom was sitting. “You don’t know how good this feels. I did exercises to keep my strength up, but being able to walk more than a few steps at a time feels fantastic.” Then the prisoner began to stretch to loosen his arms, shoulders, back, and legs.

While Harry stood there performing stretches, he said, “And I bet it feels good for you too…” He paused for a second. “Being your own man, following your own orders.”

Tom smiled slightly and chuckled. “I can’t wait ’til he sees you outta your cell. He’s gonna have a coronary.”

Harry nodded and returned to stretching. “Yep…I bet you’re right.” He looked toward the cafeteria line. “Now where did you say that pie was?”

Tom placed the cell controller on the table. “Behind the counter.” He pointed behind him with his thumb. “Next to the sandwich machine. She left us plates and forks too.”

Harry smiled and looked toward the cafeteria counter. “Man, it feels so good to be able to walk. And the air in here smells much better than the scrubbed air inside that cube.” He headed for the pie. “You want another piece?”

As he sat in the chair, Tom grabbed Harry’s left arm as he walked by and stopped him. “Remember…” his eyes were cold and serious, “no funny business.” He squeezed Harry’s skinny arm with his massive hand.

Harry looked back. “Promise.”

Tom released Harry’s arm then paused for a second and allowed himself to relax a bit. “Sure, I can down another piece.” Harry continued on while Tom slouched in his chair.

Tom heard Harry’s voice come from the counter behind him. “Peach?”

Tom shook his head. “Naw, I’d rather have another piece of cherry.” Then he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and got comfortable. The pie, the cool conditioned air, and the lack of sleep made his eyelids feel like they were loaded with concrete.

“You got it, my friend.” The clanking of silverware and plates could be heard.

After a few seconds, Harry walked back to the table. “She really did a nice job with these pies. They almost taste like the real thing.” Harry walked from behind Tom and put a plate of pie, a fork, and a white paper napkin in front of him. “Eat up, my friend.”

As Harry walked to the other side of the table and set down his plate, Tom felt a slight sting in his neck, just above his battle armor. It wasn’t a lot of pain; it felt as if he had been stuck by a hat pin. He reached to inspect the area and when he pulled back his hand he noticed blood on his fingertips. Instantly the faint sting erupted into an explosion of intense pain and panic flared. Tom glanced down and noticed quarter sized drops of deep-red blood on the table as well as on the pie in front of him.

He pressed his left hand across his throat and felt a serrated line that ran from just below his right ear and ended at the bottom of his left. Tom pressed hard against the jagged line but more drops of blood sprayed onto the table and the pie in front of him with every contraction of his terrified heart. Tom drew a breath and then became nauseated as he felt blood run down the back of his throat. With every breath, warm blood gurgled in Tom’s mouth and sprayed small droplets onto the table.

Tom’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to lose consciousness, so he placed his right hand onto the table top in an attempt to steady himself and keep from falling forward. Tom howled in agony as his right hand exploded with pain. He forced himself to focus and realized Harry had impaled his appendage with a serrated steak knife. It had passed through the flesh and the bones of his hand and dug deep into the table top, in essence crucifying his right hand.

Harry’s face glowed with wickedness as he sneered at Tom and rocked the steak knife back and forth, inflicting more intense pain with every movement. “You shouldn’t leave sharp objects lying around where children might get their hands on them.”

Then Harry released his grip on the knife, straightened himself in his chair, politely unfolded his napkin, and laid it on his lap. He used his fork to break off a piece of peach pie and brought it toward his mouth. “You really are as stupid as they say you are.” A smile washed across his mouth as he laughed and began to chew the freshly baked dessert.

Blood continued to gurgle in Tom’s throat with every agonizing breath and began to leak out of the sides of his mouth as his panic intensified, thinking he would drown. He frantically tugged at his impaled hand and tried to keep enough oxygen going in and out of his lungs to remain conscious. But his gasps became weaker and slowed in frequency as his eyes closed and he fell face first into the table.

Blood began to pool around the dying man’s head as Harry slid Tom’s plate to his side of the table. “Hey, if you’re not gonna eat this…” He smiled and ate another piece of pie. “That little bit of blood on the crust,” he looked down his nose and pointed, “should give it some extra flavor.”

Tom continued to make choking sounds as the pool of blood grew larger and began to spill onto the floor. Harry smiled happily, continuing to enjoy his dessert and watching as Tom exhaled for the last time and his body went limp.

###

A few seconds later, Harry finished eating, put his fork onto his plate, and stood from his chair. He stared at Tom’s lifeless body as he walked around the table and quietly sat down in the chair next to him.

Harry grabbed a fist full of Tom’s greasy black hair and used it to pull his head off the table. As he craned Tom’s head backward, the wound on his neck opened wide and allowed more blood to spill onto the table. Thin streams of the sticky substance ran from Tom’s face to the table like crimson molasses. Harry leaned forward and visually inspected the wound he had inflicted on Tom’s throat. “Well, that went way better than I expected.” Harry released his grip and Tom’s head crashed back into the pool of blood below it.

Happy with his work, Harry relaxed in silence for a few minutes. Then he grabbed Tom’s hair and yanked his head from the table again. He turned Tom’s head slightly toward himself, looked at his bloody face, and began to talk to him. “Well, my friend. That was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.” He slammed Tom face back onto the table and splashes of blood flew in every direction. Harry returned to his relaxed position.

After a few more seconds passed, he jerked Tom’s head from the table once more. “I think I need to get a better look at this decontamination depot.” He turned the lifeless head and closely inspected Tom’s bloody face. Tom’s half opened eyes had a blank stare, his mouth hung open and blood dripped from his stringy black hair. “I think I’ll take a walk and see the sights.” Harry released his grip, and Tom’s heavy head hit the table with a thud. He tugged at the knife and pulled it from Tom’s hand. “Then I’m gonna pay a visit to the hostess with the most-est.”