The Venom Protocols by John Murray McKay

Author:John Murray McKay [McKay, John Murray]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: KCEditions
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

What was I supposed to do? Scream, rant and rave? Bang my fists on the metal walls till the blood ran over my fists?

Not much good it would do anyway. I tugged gently at the metal chains tied to my wrists, shook my head in disbelief, then sat back and closed my eyes. There was no escape, no more running for me; just the end of a long and dammed road. What was waiting for me when the road finally ran out? Did I even have to ask? A mind wiped clean, a new life or just another science experiment locked away by the Venom Corporation to unleash when they saw fit?

Not much of a life. In the darkness of the van, I thought of Peter and Richard and how I would never see them again. It was very unlike me to be this sentimental but I missed them, no use in denying that. In a short space of time, they had become the only family I had ever truly known.

Dammit, I hope they are okay. I hated leaving them behind so suddenly but I had no choice. There was no telling how long the trail of the mask would last before going cold. Fat lot of good it did me in the end, like a dipshit I had to reason with Victor instead of escaping. And now I’m sitting here, awaiting my fate at the hands of these fuckers.

Well done Charlie, oh very well done. And then for some reason, I thought of my mother, sitting in the humid atmosphere of the van, hearing the diesel engine rumbling along and the grating of the tires on asphalt. I wondered if the bitch actually realized I was gone by now. Most likely still stoned out of her mind, lying drooling on some stranger’s floor. I couldn’t help but suppress an ironic smile. I hated her for never being there for me, never being a mother, hell for lying about me being her child. She wasn’t even my own flesh and blood. Screw her, she’s nothing to you. Just another ghost passing by.

How long had we been driving? There was no telling time in the claustrophobic darkness of the panel van, no day, no night, just the quiet rattle of rubber on the tar. A few minutes later, the van came to a standstill with a jolt, throwing me hard against the metal wall. Holding my aching head, I heard the van door creak open, the sunlight suddenly harsh on my eyes.

“Sit dead still, not a movement.” A voice behind a shotgun barked as another agent or whatever the hell they were climbed inside the van and unlocked my leg chains before shoving me outside to the ground. Looking up from the dust, the other agent lifted my bloodied chin with his shotgun and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Bathroom break, we don’t want you pissing all over the floor.” He snorted behind his black balaclava as I dusted myself off best as I could.

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