Sting: The Dark Legend Dossier, #4

WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS SCENES OF A NATURE THAT SOME PEOPLE MAY FIND UPSETTING AND DISTRESSING.

‘O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?’

-1 Corinthians 15:55

BEIDERBECKE COLLEGE

...PARENTS EVENING

EIGHTEEN MONTHS AGO

There was a scowl on Gertrude’s face.

‘I have told him countless times not to go near those boys!’ Randy shuffled nervously in his seat, knowing he was in deep trouble. ‘I said it from the very first day when that Gavin boy was killed...’

‘Greg,’ Randy corrected.

‘Be quiet Randal. I know who I mean.’ She turned back to Harper. ‘I said then that he wasn’t to go near them and he didn’t listen. A week later I got a phone call from that god awful Will Fleming telling me that Randal was with him, that he’d been involved in some gay orgy and that he had been smoking. SMOKING! Can you believe it? I certainly couldn’t.’

‘Yes,’ Harper agreed. ‘Randy is better off staying clear of him.’ They were talking as though Randy wasn’t there, as though he couldn’t hear them. ‘Personally I would like nothing more than to see the back of the little bastard.’

‘Then expel him. Throw him out. Make sure he never comes back!’

‘Gertie, I wish that I could. Besides the fact that the governors won’t let me there’s also the argument that whilst he’s here he’s under some kind of supervision.’ Randy laughed but was silenced by two stern gazes.

‘The boy is a liar and a troublemaker. I shouldn’t really show you this but this was the note he gave me as his excuse for not attending this evening.’ Gertrude took the note and with her reading spectacles perched on the end of her nose and with her lips pursed she scanned it.

Dear Mrs Harper,

I am incredibly sorry to inform you that I am unable to attend parent’s evening due to a sudden hospitalization. However, I shall be happy to discuss any matters you may deem important over the telephone. Please contact my physician, Doctor No, at Worton General if you wish to do so.

Kind regards,

Ian Fleming

‘Horseradish!’ Gertrude ejaculated, handing the note back.

‘Yes. I agree. He’s lying to protect his own back. He’s deliberately keeping me from getting in touch with his grandfather.’ Randy could have shouted out that Ian Fleming was a complete work of fiction but the remembrance of a long ago death threat stayed his tongue.

‘Unfortunately,’ Harper sighed, ‘Randy doesn’t appear to have any other friends besides Fleming and his gang. He must make friends with somebody else. The more time he spends with them the more trouble he is likely to find himself in. They are already getting him into mischief.’ Gertrude’s ears pricked up.

‘How do you mean?’ she demanded.

‘There was a careers fair here two weeks ago. Randy said something very silly to a representative from a very important company. When I asked him ‘why’ he said that Dan had dared him to do it.’ That wasn’t true. He’d only said that because Doug had overheard him and threatened to dunk his head down the toilet if he didn’t say that he’d made it up.

‘And what did he say to this company?’

‘When he was asked what the most unusual thing he’d done was he said that he’d been to another dimension.’ Harper’s tone was mocking but Gertrude wasn’t so amused.

‘Honestly, what nonsense!’

‘He told this representative that he got there through a glass wall in the Serpent’s Fall hotel.’

‘It’s all abandoned and locked up! How would he get in there?’ They both looked at Randy who was shying away. ‘Absolute codswallop! Randal... Why on earth would you agree to say such a stupid thing?’

‘Dan told me to do it... He said he’d pay me if I did,’ he lied.

‘And did he pay you?’ Randy shook his head.

‘Again, I would recommend that Randy finds some new friends. His current crop are a very bad influence and lord only knows where they’ll lead him.’

A bell rang signifying that the appointment was over. Gertrude stood up and brushed herself down.

‘Yes. I’ll certainly be having words. Thank you Karen. Come along Randal.’

She marched to the door with Randy timidly following behind. Thankfully she didn’t recognize Dan who was outside and waiting to go in. He was accompanied by a withered old lady who smiled up at them both as they came out. Randy stopped and stared at her, wondering where Dan had got her from.

‘I’m ninety four next Tuesday,’ the old lady said. Randy continued to stare and then hurried after Gertrude.

NOTE- UNKNOWN- FOUND IN OFFICE OF CORNELIUS BARABBAS- NIRA

Sir,

Regarding what the Barnes boy said at the Beiderbecke careers fair- I broke into the Serpent’s Fall hotel last night, as per your instructions. IT EXISTS! I could not get the thing to open but it is exactly as described. I await further instructions.

D.H

-A WORLD WITHOUT LOVE-

As Told By Doug Jenkins

Hearing the stories of everyone who had escaped the massacres left me cold. It was frightening in every sense of the word. There were some who had seen friends and family members killed in front of them and there were others who had suffered near grievous injuries, all of them only escaping by bloody minded persistence or luck. Most were left mentally scarred by the very idea that the creatures they had once supported and fought to defend could suddenly turn on them as they did. That would haunt them all until they died and even though they had been my enemy I had every sympathy for them. Everything they had believed and everything they had grown used to over the course of the war had been snatched away.

Their only salvation had been across the front lines and whilst some of us had accepted them, forgiven them and comforted them in their grief, others had taken the opposite view and were already demanding that they be thrown back into the gaping maw of the monsters.

Humanity once again became divided, this time between those who wished to treat the survivors fairly and those who were openly calling for them to be thrown back. Order was kept but only by the skin of its teeth. With the amount of death threats and angry protests going around there was bound to be another split sooner or later. Humanity would again turn on itself, which is exactly what the graffe wanted. With everybody fighting each other they would be in a position to sweep in and wipe us all out whilst our backs were turned.

At the centre of it all were NIRA. Their disrepute was now common knowledge and a full scale investigation into the dealings of the company was on the cards. In the meantime they still held their influence over a large proportion of the government and the military. They still controlled the supply of weapons and ammunition. They still had fingers in the communications unit and transportation departments. I often wonder why they couldn’t have just outright been stripped of their assets but that didn’t happen. The fact that they weren’t meant that some of those with a real beef to grind, those who had lost close friends and family members in the Mersey fiasco, were now turning not just against NIRA but also against the survivors of those three terrible days- Namely, myself.

There was at least one person who was determined to put a stop to it all, our ever valiant hero and saviour Mr William Morfasson. Or if you want to go by the name he operated under in order to keep his identity a secret, Jake Williams... Or if you want to go by the name he didn’t use because most people assumed that he was dead, long story, Will Fleming.

For two months he contemplated how he could deal with NIRA and reunite the shattered remnants of humanity but for all his intelligence and all his ingenuity he could think of absolutely nothing. This made him moody and he began to louch about the house, brooding. It wasn’t like we could distract him with work either as in the aftermath of the fiasco all non-urgent military operations had been suspended and we were sat on the sidelines.

It took less than a few days to grow tired of this routine but almost the whole two months before anybody was able to shake him out of it. It was Joe who saved us all and he did it quite by chance whilst we were having dinner one day.

Lydia had cooked a fine Chicken Teriyaki and Will was busy shovelling his food around the plate with his hand on his cheek and a pouting expression. He was aroused from his mood when Joe suddenly asked: ‘What about Harris?’ We all turned from our plates and stared. ‘Well think about it... NIRA can’t have come from nowhere. If they managed to successfully control two armies for almost a year they had to exist in some way before...’

‘Are you saying NIRA is Lupus? Because if you are it’s bullshit. Lupus was completely torn up when Harris was sent down.’ Will then thought and got what Joe was getting at. ‘But Harris was still a businessman so he’d likely know something the company or what they might be up to. He might have some information...’

‘Great,’ I sounded sarcastically, stabbing a bit of chicken with my fork. ‘Does this mean we’re going to visit Harris?’ Will nodded, a grim look on his face.

1. INTO THE APOCALYPSE

It took a few days for us to get clearance to see Harris. He was housed in the maximum security wing of Strangeways, the latest prisoner in a long line of notorious felons, from Emily Davison and Ian Brady to Harold Shipman and David Dickinson, so this made it very difficult to get in as the prison management had to check every potential visitor and make sure they weren’t a security risk or anything.

This check first involved a great amount of form filling and two separate references from upstanding individuals. Our commanding officer, Visco, was of no use as he would never agree to such a visit. We had to go and grovel at the feet of our old friend Peter Fisher, former head of the Worton police force and now working as a high ranking civilian watchman. He was sceptical of the idea and warned us against it but he knew to trust that Will was doing the right thing. That just left the other reference and we had a hard time thinking of whom we could approach. We thought of our old headmistress, Karen Harper, but she had vanished from the face of the earth. Not that she would have referenced Will anyway.

In the end our option was limited to one Eliza Carramier and what ensued was a very long and lecturing phone call from God only knew where. Will explained everything very carefully but then, as he was speaking, he realised that Eliza wasn’t exactly the best person to ask for a reference considering that she and Harris had been so close. But then Will had a brainwave... He used himself as a reference.

‘If you can’t have two names and use one to the benefit of the other,’ he commented, ‘what can you use them for?’

The prison authorities were extremely excited to have received a reference from a Morfasson. According to them it was the best thing in the world. There was, according to them, no better reference. Even that on its own would have done and it made me curse for having gone begging to Pete. Then again, would they have accepted just one reference, even if it was from a Morfasson? Will was of the opinion that had we only delivered one we would have met with the ranked masses of bureaucracy and never got in to see Harris.

****

On the day of the visit we parked a considerable way off in the car park of Trafford Command, Will arguing something about it being safer keeping Donk there than in the centre of Manchester. I know this was a lie as Will had quite happily parked the stupid thing in central Manchester more than a few times before then. He had even used him in an illegal street race there not so long ago, though I’m not sure I should tell you about that one.

As Trafford Command is miles from Strangeways we ended up having to catch a rickety old bus with bars on the windows and seats that stank of piss. This only took us as far as Piccadilly Gardens so we had to walk the rest of the way.

‘It would have been easier to get the train,’ I commented as we passed the Market Street Metrolink station.

‘Yeah... We could have tried,’ Will answered. ‘But we’d have never got through security.’ I glanced at the rucksack he had slung across one shoulder. It looked remarkably full considering we were only visiting a prison. It looked as though it was a fully prepared operations kit, one that came with weapons and high end explosives and all that jazz. I suddenly got a bad feeling.

‘Please tell me we aren’t going to bust him out?’ The look I got back was scathing. Will didn’t say anything in response to my question so I hung back and examined him.

He was a runt of a thing but he walked with such confidence and purpose that he stood above all those who were taller than him. He had a presence. At that moment I could also tell that he was planning something. It involved whatever was in the rucksack.

We carried on, saying nothing, down Market Street and past all the shops of the Arndale Centre, shops we had never had back home in Worton. Worton’s shops were good but they had never been exactly fashionable. Here they had all the fashionable shops and I’m not ashamed to admit that I lingered and stared through some of the windows as we passed by.

By the time we came to the USC on the corner of Corporation Street Will was becoming impatient. I had stopped to look at a cool pair of skinny jeans in the window and Will was marching five metres ahead. By the time I looked around again he had vanished. For a moment I panicked, like a child who has lost his parents (Ok... Wrong analogy considering my parents ran away and abandoned me,) and then I saw him standing in the middle of Corporation Street with his arms folded and an angry bin man tooting at him to move out of the way. I hurried towards him and pulled him from the road. He did not look happy.

‘We don’t have time for shopping Jenkins,’ he snatched as we passed by the Pizza Hut.

‘Not even later?’

‘Not even later!’ I got the sneaking suspicion it was something to do with whatever was in the rucksack.

‘Can we at least get food?’ I begged.

‘You are always thinking of your stomach... We’re meeting Joe later on so you can get food then.’ I grew suspicious.

‘If we’re meeting Joe later on why didn’t he come with us in Donk?’

‘Two’s company... Three’s a crowd.’

At the end of Corporation Street came Exchange Square and the massive Ferris wheel before we headed up and round the corner, past the music school and the Cathedral and that place where Marx wrote the Communist Manifesto, then up Victoria Street.

Eventually, after a further half hour walk through what looked to me like a dodgy area of the city, we came to the prison itself. It was a long way from Piccadilly Gardens to Strangeways and we should have probably got another bus up there when all was said and done.

It was mostly all tough and imposing and brutal, as a prison should be, but the look was ruined by the friendly and welcoming glass fronted entrance. It made the place look more like a hospital than a criminal deterrent.

I was hoping it got better inside but the answer was no. It didn’t. It was like the waiting room for a doctor’s surgery, complete with friendly and amiable receptionist who was all smiles and willing to help with any request. I was disgusted and Will noted this as I held the door open for him.

‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing it’s just... This isn’t what I was expecting. I was expecting something a bit more detrimental... This place should be cold and unforgiving. It should be all stone and iron bars and barbed wire...’

‘Doug,’ Will interrupted, ambling to the reception desk. ‘This is the twenty first century...  Prisons have gone soft... They even have the internet in here now!’

‘Jesus Christ...’ I came up beside the reception desk. ‘At least tell me there’s still anal rape in the showers!’

‘Sadly not sir,’ the receptionist answered. ‘We take a very dim view of that sort of thing here... Now... Do you have an appointment sirs?’

‘Yes... Jake Williams and Doug Jenkins... Here to see Prisoner 1.0.2.5- Jonathon Harris.’ The receptionist lady looked at her computer and then grinned.

‘Yes... Here we are... From the... 15th Utopian Squad?’ She looked at us quizzically. ‘A military matter?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Oooooh!’ I thought the receptionist had orgasmed right in front of us, and she probably did as she had just seen our references. She’d have probably done it again if she’d known who Will really was. ‘Ok... If you’d like to leave your bags and coats with me I’ll have someone escort you up to see the prisoner.’

We handed our things over, with instructions from Will to be ultra-careful with his rucksack, and were then shown towards a door whilst the receptionist called someone up on the telephone.

The other side was a prison guard and a metal detector. It was a pain as we had to take off our watches, our shoes and our ID tags before being frisked from top to bottom, including in our beards and hair to make sure we weren’t hiding anything. They even made us strip down to our underwear just to be sure. It was, in a word, intrusive- but I’m not surprised considering we were visiting one of the most dangerous, high security prisoners in the country.

On the other side of the metal detector and the intrusive strip search another prison guard was waiting for us. She was another of those happy, smiley kinds of people and she wore a name badge that read ‘Hi... My name is Desdemona.’ Whatever happened to monkey like thugs, that’s what I want to know?

‘You the boys here to see Johnnie?’ Desdemona asked us politely as we approached. She was an American. Will and I glanced each other.

‘If you mean Harris then yes...’

‘Oh... He asks that we call him Johnnie,’ Desdemona clucked. ‘He doesn’t get many visitors though. You’re the first I think...’ She began to take us through yet another door and into a well-lit stairwell.

‘Does he cause much trouble?’ Will asked.

‘Oh no... He’s no trouble at all. In fact you wouldn’t even suspect he was dangerous if you didn’t know it.’

‘Really? Every time I’ve spoken to him he’s been a gloating megalomaniac.’

‘Ah, but that was before he got caught selling us all to hell. He’s changed his ways in here.’

‘A leopard doesn’t change his spots,’ I growled. ‘My fiancée died because of him... I lost friends too... Good friends.’

‘But don’t the bible say to forgive folks of his kind?’ We reached the top of the stairs and were guided out into a white corridor.

‘I think he’s only acting nice because he won’t get anywhere by acting like his usual self,’ Will opined. ‘You let him out onto the streets and he’ll be back selling off the world before you can blink.’

‘You think?’

‘No... I don’t think. I know. I’ve seen first-hand what Harris is capable of.’ He changed the subject. ‘Is he allowed near the other prisoners or is he kept in solitary?’

‘At first he was in solitary but he were so nice and so polite we thought we’d let him mix... He still has a cell to himself though. He insists on it.’ Desdemona paused a second. ‘Although now that you mention it there was one thing we had to sort out...’ She peered around to make sure nobody else was listening in. ‘When we first let him mix he started spreading rumours amongst the inmates. He started claiming that Will Fleming was alive!’ Will nearly keeled over but covered himself up with a cough. ‘I mean imagine such a thing! We all know it ain’t true because we all saw him falling off that construction site... Unless Johnnie knows something the rest of us don’t.’

‘Trust me... He’s dead. I saw his body,’ Will snatched. ‘I saw it right before we buried him.’ We turned a corner and were taken through a barred door that was locked behind us.

‘Well that was one of the things Johnnie mentioned when I asked him about it... He said it were the wrong body buried there and that somebody should go dig it up and see for themselves.’ Will and I shot worried exchanges behind her back. If anybody dared to actually check the grave and found it really wasn’t Will buried there then there would be an enormous shit storm.

Will knew that, being dead, he had become a symbol of hope and inspiration. It was this hope that was keeping humanity from going over the edge. The number of pilgrims who came to ‘his’ grave numbered in the hundreds every month. Discovering the truth about the grave would shatter everything, everything that was keeping hope and morale alive. It would destroy the legend that Will had built up around himself. People wouldn’t believe in it anymore. Without it our side didn’t stand a chance. Everyone would be broken and disheartened and the graffe could use that against us. Perhaps that is what Harris wanted. Perhaps he knew this and was still actively trying to help the graffe... Something would have to be done about it. Will and I both knew that we couldn’t let the legend be shattered, least of all by Harris.

After a few more minutes silent walking we stopped at a metal door, one with two prison guards posted on the outside.

‘Do you need someone to come in with you?’ Desdemona asked us.

‘Erm... No. Thank you,’ Will answered. ‘We need to speak to him privately.’

‘Well ok. But just remember, we’ll have people watching you all the time. Don’t make any bodily contact and don’t hand anything to him.’ We agreed. ‘I’ll be waiting out here when you wish to leave,’ Desdemona smiled.

She nodded to the guards who opened the door, which creaked like the swinging gates of a haunted mansion. That sound made me shiver and I trembled as I entered the dimly lit room beyond. Will also didn’t look very pleased. His usual confidence and arrogance was muted and he looked less like a brave warrior and more like a regular, scruffed up young man. There was a definite worry in his eyes as he came in behind me.

The room was standard, boring, concrete fare with a single table in the middle and a narrow, frosted window at the top. At the table was a man whom both Will and I loathed with all our fibres, Jonathon Harris.

He was thinner than before, an awful lot thinner. Previously he had been a lard but now he was svelte and thin and, I hate to say this considering it was Harris, kind of good looking in a weird way. Well... He would have been good looking were it not for the fact that his whole face was a mess of scars and injuries from his previous battles with Will. He hid most of them with a light, patchy blonde beard but it did nothing much to improve him otherwise. He was still an evil looking man. There was a dangerous glint to his eyes and the way his lips curled upwards into a sinister sneer was frightening.

‘Why hello Clarice,’ he mocked. His voice was still as grating and irritating as before. ‘It’s been a while.’

‘Alright dildo?’ Will responded, sitting opposite him. I sat down next to Will, timidly.

‘And if it isn’t the ginger freak without parents... Tell me... How is Amanda these days?’ I nearly jumped out of my chair and strangled him but Will held me down with one hand.

‘Don’t rise to it... He’s trying to provoke a reaction.’ His eyes turned on Will.

‘What about you Clarice? How’s your girlfriend?’

‘Ex girlfriend,’ Will corrected. ‘And she’s all the better for being out of your clutches.’

‘Oooh... But sex with her was so good,’ Harris wheedled. ‘We had fun whilst she was in my clutches.’

‘Ok... I’ll agree with you that the sex was good... But she’s still better being away from you.’

‘Will, get to the point so we can get out of here as soon as possible,’ I snarked. Harris lifted his nose at me and his lips curled further. He then turned back to Will.

‘Go on... Why are you here Clarice? Why are you visiting me now?’

‘Why do you keep calling me Clarice?’

‘Well what else am I supposed to call you? You faked your own death and funeral so I can’t call you Fleming any more...’

‘How about Jake Williams?’ I snotted.

‘No... Because that would be a lie... Wouldn’t it Clarice?’

‘It is a lie... But not in the way you think,’ Will smirked. Harris cocked his head to one side, curiously.

‘Are you saying, Clarice, that there is more to this Jake Williams name than you are letting on?’ It sounded like Harris was flirting but Will didn’t take the bait. He knew what Harris was really trying to do and he wasn’t falling for it. When he got no reaction Harris sat back in his chair and pushed it onto two legs.

‘I heard about Runcorn you know... I heard that it was you who discovered the NIRA conspiracy.’

‘That’s why we’re here. We want everything you have on them...’

‘And you think people haven’t already asked me this?’

‘Obviously not. If they had then I wouldn’t be here.’ Harris shrugged.

‘You have me on that one. But maybe they’re more sensible. Maybe they didn’t ask me because they think I won’t know anything.’

‘Oh come off it... You ran one of the biggest corporations in Lancashire and you were well versed in dodgy business practices. You must know something.’ Harris got up and started pacing the room.

‘I knew of NIRA but before the war they were small and hardly worth bothering with. They were a small science company. The war, however, made them big and I’m assuming they did it by prostrating themselves before both militaries. They played humanity and got filthy rich in the process.’

‘So it was all about money?’ I guessed.

‘Mostly, I assume... Once they had both sides in the palm of their hand they must have realised that they could use their new found influence to gain more money. They realised that the longer they could keep the war going the more money they would make. It was in their interests to keep the war going indefinitely... Taking from one side, giving to the other and then exchanging the favour. They always made sure one side never got too far ahead. That is why they tried to stop you succeeding in Runcorn. By succeeding you would have pushed your own side too far towards victory. They decided it was easier to stop you.’

‘Oh yeah, they tried to stop us alright,’ Will drawled. I shuddered again through thinking about it all, all the death and all the horrors. ‘They left us a mile behind our drop zones and cut our communications... Then they threw fucking magnas at us.’

‘They also blew up the Thelwall Viaduct,’ I interjected, remembering the heat of the explosion against my face.

‘We don’t know for certain that was them,’ Will shot back.

‘Who else would it have been Clarice?’ Harris cooed. ‘Now If I may continue? Thank you... NIRA had every intention that you wouldn’t succeed but then you exposed them...’  Will’s face dropped.

‘When you exposed them they lost control and my graffe seized their chance. They were already growing restless with having to deal with their human supporters so when they saw there was a weakness...’ Harris grinned from ear to ear and lowered his head. ‘And as you were the one who exposed them, Clarice...’

He began to laugh in a particularly disgusting and lunatic way. Will didn’t react but the guilt of all those deaths hit his face. How many humans had the graffe recently killed I wondered? And how many would still be alive were it not for NIRA being exposed? Impossible to say.

‘NIRA playing the war for money doesn’t explain everything,’