Origins Unknown Read online

  Copyright © 2019 M K Hussain

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 9781916433717

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  For my wife, my son and the rest of my family

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  M K Hussain is a new author on the scene from Sheffield, South Yorkshire, England. He is a family man with a wife and son and dedicates all of his works to his family.

  CONTENTS

  THE STRANGER IN THE CELL

  JAILBREAK

  WEIRDLAND

  A RUN IN THE DESERT

  BRUTE FORCE

  SILENT AWAKENING

  COMPANIONSHIP

  RISK ASSESSMENT

  SATRAULIA

  KINDRED

  BONDED

  HUNTED

  COMPROMISE

  FIRST OF MANY

  CHOSEN

  SURROUNDED

  RICAFA

  INTERROGATION

  EXTREME MEASURES

  A NEW MEANING

  COLLISION COURSE

  LOST SOULS

  ALLY OR FOE?

  MASS INVASION

  SNEAK ATTACK

  AN UNEXPECTED SURPRISE

  ART OF WATER

  LAST MAN STANDING

  NOW IS THE TIME

  AFTERSHOCK

  1

  THE STRANGER IN THE CELL

  “AAAGGGHHH!”

  I wake up screaming with a jolt of pain in a white-sheeted bed, with a cold sweat glistening all over my body. My eyes are open wide in fright and I find myself sitting upright feeling numb and tingly.

  “Aaaggghhh!”

  Suddenly, I grasp the right side of my temple with one of my hands, closing my eyes at the same time. A flood of prior information enters my brain before leaving abruptly, a sharp sense of familiarity acutely filling my senses. The intense, sharp, stabbing pain is killing me, causing my veins to pound so hard that I fear my head’s about to explode. I feel much disorientated at the same time, feeling as though I have just regained consciousness after being knocked out by someone stronger than me, or having been tossed about the room I currently reside in.

  The room…

  With this thought, I realise that I…

  I don’t know who I am, where I am or remember quite how I got here.

  The smell of the room is very overpowering for me: a mixture of musk, metal, sweat and an overall unwashed stink. Despite the pain in my head, I also feel very nauseous, thinking I am going to be physically sick if I stay here another second longer.

  After adjusting to the pain in my head for the next few minutes, I finally try to force my eyes open again in the hope of trying to focus them around the room, trying to see what my surroundings actually look like.

  “What…?”

  I see that I am in a small room… no, not a room; the black, solid bars blocking my exit to the right side of me signifies that the room is actually a cell of some sort.

  Am I in jail?

  I look around the cell. A small sliver of strange purple light through the black window bars in the wall to the left of my bed lets me see the four walls of this room and I sit in the bed. The length of the cell looks as if it has enough space to have a six-foot person lying inside it, whereas the width of the cell looks as if it is made to fit two single-sized beds with a small space in between to walk around in, which strangely enough I can now see it does. In front of me, I notice that three-quarters of the cell, including the area on the other side of my cell door, is harder to see through as it is covered by a greater level of darkness than I have ever seen before.

  I experience a slight unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach just now, being in the presence of the darkness within my cell. I feel that if I venture ever closer into the dark areas I won’t like what I encounter, or worse yet, I may not return safe and sound to my area of the cell. In addition, a chill running down my spine leads me to suspect that someone or something may be watching me from within the dark space.

  As if recovering from a bout of temporary memory loss, I then look towards myself. My body feels wet and clammy all over. I can see that I am topless as I see my chest from the light shining through the window and as I feel underneath my blanket, luckily I realise that the bottom half of my body is covered by some sort of clothing.

  I look in awe at both my hands first, then my arms. The tingly feeling in my body is strange and unknown to me but interestingly I feel that I am growing stronger with each and every passing second. Almost instantly, an itch starts to develop on my chest, just above my stomach. I begin to scratch it for a while until the itching subsides before I focus my mind on my present dilemma.

  I start to question myself…

  Who am I?

  What’s my name?

  What have I done?

  How did I get here?

  And more importantly…

  Why am I here?

  Despite all this, I try to recall the scream that I had heard when I woke up. Could it be that it came from a dream I was having or a very disturbing nightmare? Or was it from my external surroundings? Or from me, unknowingly?

  The worst happens next: I begin to panic. All of this is very confusing and is happening way too fast for me. I try to console myself by breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. I try to think positively.

  Calm down. Stop asking yourself so many questions and start to think what your next step is going to be. How are you going to resolve the predicament you are in?

  Using the blanket I am wrapped up in, I wipe away the sweat from my face and clear my throat, ensuring that if I needed to speak clearly or shout loudly at any point, I could.

  I toss the blanket to one side and gently swing my legs to position my feet solid onto the ground with my backside, shifting my weight onto one of the edges of the bed.

  With a deep breath, I press my hands firmly on the bed, pushing upwards while exerting my strength.

  “Going somewhere?” says a deep voice from within the darkness of my cell. From what I can make out, the person on the other single bed is clearly male and rough.

  I am right. I am not alone in this cell.

  Unclear whether I should be relieved that I am not alone or nervous as to the other person’s intentions, I begin to respond quickly before he cuts me off again.

  “You shouldn’t attract too much attention to yourself in a place like this.”

  “What… erm…?”

  I am surprised to hear my voice is deep also, not as deep as the man in my cell, but very masculine in the quality of its sound.

  ‘‘What’s it to you?” I ask grouchily as at that moment, not due to the man asking me a somewhat obvious question, but from the itch on my chest beginning to flare up again, causing me to continue scratching it with greater velocity and a shade of redness to develop in that area.

  Now that I am sitting up and using the gloom enterin
g the cell from the outside, I can see the silhouette of a person in the darkness in front of me, sitting on a similar bed to mine; back against the wall behind him, knees bent and feet on the bed.

  I have a sudden revelation at that point that the man may have been waiting for me to wake up for some time and has made himself as comfortable as he could possibly be in a place such as this.

  ‘‘Nothing to do with me, I know. Feel free to do what you please. It is just that I am slightly curious as to what your next step is going to be,” the man replies questioningly.

  ‘‘I’ve got other things on my mind than to satisfy your curiosity right now,” I answer back sharply as the pain in my chest is getting worse. “I’m just not in the mood for chatting at the moment.”

  “You don’t have to take that tone with me,” the man says rather strictly. “It is not because of me that you’re in here, so you might want to calm down and think clearly as to why we are here instead.”

  It feels to me that he knows more about this situation than I do so I let things settle for now. Also, my head is still splitting from the pain I received seconds ago; I know that if the man was to start a fight here and now, I would have no chance of winning against him.

  “Look, the way I see it is like this,” I say back to him, “I don’t think I belong here and I shouldn’t have to be here if I feel I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  The man answers with a slight grunt, perhaps of acknowledgement, followed by an awkward silence.

  I wonder if he is going to say anything. I wait a moment or two, hoping the awkward silence between us will pass quickly. As I think that he probably would have said something by now but hasn’t, I venture on.

  “Do you know why we are here?” I ask him calmly.

  Seeing that I have indeed started to act more civilly towards him, the man leans forward an inch, his back away from the wall now, as if ready to have a proper discussion with me. Even though he has moved forward, the darkness of the cell still wouldn’t allow me to see his face. For a second, it feels to me that he strategically means to keep his face hidden from me for whatever reason. I move slightly, ready to fight back if needed.

  “No,” the man retorts simply.

  “What about getting out of here?” I speculate, calming myself down as the initial feeling of threat from his movements starts to fade gradually. “I could try opening the cell door.”

  “I don’t know how you are going to do that. The door appears to be locked,” the man whispers back.

  “Have you shouted for help?”

  “I can’t see anything through the bars because there are no lights switched on, on the other side.”

  “Yes, but have you shouted for help?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK, but… what about the window? If we look through it and see someone outside, we can shout for help,” I insist.

  “The window is a little difficult to explain.”

  “Why?”

  “I went over when you were… sleeping and when I got close to peeking outside, the window seemed to grow smaller and move away from my line of sight.”

  I look over at the man, thinking I haven’t heard him properly.

  “What? What do you mean by that? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Tell me about it,” the man responds. His tone of voice sounds more serious than ever so I know that he isn’t kidding around.

  I shake my head. My brainstorming session for escape is running out of steam more quickly than I thought it would so I start to think of any alternatives that come to mind. Then, something occurs to me.

  “Well, do you have any ideas? It seems to me that I’m doing all the thinking for us.”

  “Unlike you, I don’t think I’m as desperate to get out of this place,” he replies in a slightly shrill tone, his voice now sounding distorted.

  “Why? Are you supposed to be in here? What have you done?”

  “Don’t know,” he replies quietly.

  “Are you always this negative? Don’t you want to get out of here? Don’t you want to find out why we are here in the first place?” I shout back, trying to be headstrong now, trying to get him to see my point of view.

  From his body language, I can make out that the man is clearly enjoying seeing me in this state as through the dimness of the cell, I just about see a small sneer appear on the edge of his mouth and hear a small chuckle escape the back of his throat. Despite our repetitive arguing, he now turns deadly serious.

  “Despite what you may think, I want to get out of here too. But, you do have to ask yourself the same question you just asked me – why are we here? It must mean that we are here for a purpose. Think about it. We are in a prison. Judging by our clothes, we appear to be prisoners. We have probably committed some sort of crime. Just because we can’t remember anything prior to waking up now does not make us innocent of our past deeds.”

  He has a point. I haven’t really bothered to take a closer look at my clothing but it is clear to me that it probably doesn’t matter as it is bound to be obvious prison garb judging from where we are being kept. Looking over at him covered in his shroud of darkness, I start to wonder who he is.

  “What’s your name?” I ask uncertainly with a slight quiver in my voice.

  “I think that information is on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know… at least, not yet. I think the main reason that I don’t want to tell you is simply this, I don’t want to.”

  ‘‘Why not?”

  ‘‘My choice.”

  This guy is very reserved in what he wants to share and what he doesn’t. He is willing to help if he wants, as much or as little as possible but without providing any effort whatsoever on his part.

  Yet… there is something about him that just makes my skin crawl.

  I feel that he can read my thoughts. He shifts his position, sitting more upright than before.

  “It seems to me that you’ve got two choices. Either you can stay here and find out what’s happening when one of the guards comes past us, that is to say if we ever see one…’’ he replies rather analytically, ‘‘or… you can try to escape from this cell, any which way that you can think of that I haven’t tried, and see if you can find out what’s happening.’’

  ‘‘Well, in that case, I’m getting out of here,’’ I state firmly, convinced I am not going to change my mind. I hate this feeling of being trapped. To me, it seems as if it is the only option. I have to find out the truth no matter what.

  ‘‘Do what you got to do. As for me, I think the best thing would be to stay put until the authorities arrive. I’m going to stay here until I figure out what the last thing I can remember was before waking up here.’’

  ‘‘OK but… what if you are innocent and are found guilty?’’ I counter questioningly, wondering why he is so determined not to join me in getting out of here.

  ‘‘Hopefully, if I’m innocent, I’ll get out of here in one piece. If not, then… we’ll see, but whatever happens, I’m sure I’ll see you… very soon,’’ he concludes determinedly.

  With that comment, he lays down on his bed, locking his arms behind his head, with his left knee bent slightly and his right leg resting on the other. I can tell that he is disinterested with our topic of conversation and is beginning to get bored with me.

  I begin to grow impatient with, for lack of a better term, my new ‘friend’ and begin my first move to slowly stand myself up. Awkwardly, my body is still feeling as if it is unsure of its function but working well enough to gather my bearings.

  Using my hands to press against the side of the bed, I transfer my body weight to my considerably unsettled feet. Through the change in my stance, I can now partly see that my clothing is actually a dark green jumpsuit. Once I am standing, I grab hold of the top half of my jumpsuit and zip up the front. A small badge with the name ‘Max’ has been sewn on just above my left breast pocket but part of it just after the ‘x’ in Max seems to be torn off, as if the remainder of th
e name is yet to be discovered or just missing.

  Max… huh… at least I sort of know what to call myself.

  I think about it for a second, then smile.

  I don’t know how to escape from here but at least I have a name.

  ‘‘There’s still time if you want to come with me,’’ I tell him, but he still seems as if he is reluctant to consider this possibility.

  ‘‘Don’t go too far now…’’ the man answers back curtly. From where I am standing, I can see he still has the sneer on his face that he had a moment ago. The guy is clearly unsettling in his manners, a little too much for me anyway.

  With that statement, he retreats away back into silence, turning his body to the wall beside his bed and further into the darkness.

  I grow a little concerned for his wellbeing for if he stays any longer in this cell, he may become more unstable.

  I am relieved though that he isn’t coming along with me, as I can’t stand him any longer. After all, he doesn’t seem the ideal travelling partner to me, even if he is my co-prisoner.

  Thinking of what he means by the last comment he made, I go over to the cell door. Grabbing one of the bars, I push the door to try to open it. I can’t. I hear a low chuckle escape from his throat. Slightly angry at him now and at this situation, I think of other ways of opening it. I lower my open right hand to the keyhole.

  To my surprise, the door opens.

  I am free… for now.

  I walk through the door. In the blink of an eye, lights switch on from single fluorescent light bulbs attached to metal frames above each and every cell. Being aware of my surroundings, I step out onto a wide piece of metal scaffolding.

  I can see now that I am on the first floor of a prison, the smell that I noticed when I first woke up intensified tenfold. On either side of me lies cells laid out in an intricate cylindrical fashion, with some blank wall spaces in-between and steps leading upstairs and downstairs.

  Holding onto the metal railing and peering up over the edge, I see that there are more levels than I could imagine above and as for how far they go up, I can’t even begin to hazard a guess. By the look of things, it seems to me that the cells are designed for maximum security as I can also see a camera fixed on the wall above each one, swivelling every so often to face inside and outside the cell. Interestingly, I see that each space within the cells around the prison is covered with the same level of darkness as mine is. Apprehensively, I move on.