The Pause

Chapter 15

Andrews stared at the sea of faces in the lifeless void that was the war room. Men were gathered around a seemingly endless table. Each of them clad in uniform, expressionless, mere puppets of The New Government. They all took notes, occasionally nodding or muttering "as you wish sir". So empty, so mindless, so dead. Yet Andrews had another concern, analysing their leader. Sykes stood at the head of the table, his hands behind his back, posture upright and his face was but a mask, a facade of the Sykes everyone knew, the Sykes he tried to be. Shutting away the real Sykes from the world, the real Sykes that Andrews desperately wanted to learn about. The real Sykes that Andrews needed to expose.

He was in the process of making a speech, recapping the past weeks and discussing plans moving forward. His voice never let up that soft tone, somehow that was more effective. Somehow, he was more dominant. The power in the room was all his, and he utilised it in every way. "Gentlemen it seems we have covered most everything. Except from the training program, run by private Andrews" he proclaims. All eyes turn to Andrews, their lifeless stare, peers right into his soul. "It seems the students are doing very well, if I must say so. All very capable of making strong fighters" Sykes states, he places his hands firmly down on the table. Staring at Andrews "but remember what's important here private. Don't go forming attachments. Especially to that group of four you seem to be keeping a close eye on". Andrews sunk, Sykes knew about them, he knew about Emily, and if Sykes knew that. What else is he aware of?

Andrews stood, "with all due respect sir, these students have displayed exceptional signs. I assure you their skill is quite unmatched, especially as a unit. They give me hope for some resolution to all this" his voice was shaky, he still felt the entire room judging him. "Hope? Hope died a long time ago Private. We need soldiers, not a hopeless fantasy. Remember your job or get packing your things. Meeting dismissed". The army clad zombies left, yet Andrews stayed. Waiting for, something, anything that would help him reach the truth.

"Private, I assure you. Whatever it is you're looking for. You don't want to find". Sykes warned before leaving, securing himself. In his chambers. WHAT ARE YOU HIDING? Andrews thought to himself. I WILL FIND OUT.

As he made his way down the tower, passing waves of armed guards and security checks, endless corridors of laboratories, munitions storages and command centres, Andrews found the one area he could begin his hunt for answers. The brig. Most criminals of the district were shot with no questions asked. In this hell hole of a new world, there was no time or place for the judicial system. However in the tower, there lay prisoners of war, as far as everyone knew they were just violent radicalists. Yet if Andrews was questioning his own government and needed answers, surely these people knew something he didn't. He hoped anyway.

He entered corridor of cells, surprisingly there wasn't a lot, and were all around very basic. Aside from the final cell. Massive steel doors were sealed shut, with two guards standing in front, armed with assault rifles. As he approached they raised the weapons "identify yourself and your reason for being here" one of them shouted. "Sargent Mark Andrews, sent to interrogate the inmate by General Sykes". These guards never saw the light of day or knew about any of the goings on upstairs. Therefore Andrews upping his rank and his vague excuse was more than enough to get in.

The large steel doors churned open slowly, as Andrews entered one of the guards informed him "you have 5 minutes maximum". Before they sealed the door behind him. The cell was a gaping white void from all four corners. A looming room of nothingness aside from its one resident. Chained front and centre, battered and bruised. Long black hair and beard. Scars coming from his shadowed face to his trembling hands. The inmate stared at Andrews analysis in every part of him, all movement was noted and calculated. "So has Jon sent another trained monkey to beat me again?" He splutterd, his voice, cold and raspy. Andrews gazed around the room, looking for anything they could be spied on with. "Keep your voice down" he whispered, hoping to get through this conversation with eavesdroppers. "WHAT?!" The inmate shouted. His rough bellow echoed. "I said keep your voice down" Andrews continued, kneeling to be face to face with the inmate. "Look, my name is Mark Andrews. And I have a sneaking suspicion that Sykes isn't telling us the whole truth, and that he is hiding some key information about all of this. All records of the New Government program before the outbreak have been erased. For 12 years we've had to take Sykes' word for fact. But recently it's been slipping. He wants a group of trainees to wipe out this rebel camp and claims that some kind of war is coming. If I can find out what went down before the outbreak. Maybe just maybe, I can put a stop to this before anything gets out of hand".

The inmate began to chuckle slowly to himself "and you think a prisoner like me would have what you're looking for?" He asked before proceeding to cough uncontrollably. It was clear he was not in any state to live, and solitary confinement was getting the better of him. Andrews sighed "you must know something" he pushed. The inmate grinned "and what if I did?" Relishing in his moment of superiority. "Then I'll do everything I can to get you out of here" Andrews proposed. There was a loud sharp bang on the steel doors, "INTERROGATION OVER. YOU MUST LEAVE THE CELL IMMEDIATELY" one of the guards shouted. Desperation soon took hold of Andrews "please. I'm begging you" he pleaded. The inmate sighed and muttered one final word before Andrews was escorted out.

Curiosity ate away at Andrews. That one word, all the possibilities. Fear and intrigue battling in his mind trying to decode it. What it all meant.

That one word.

"Laura"