Necropolis 2 Read Free Page A

ago, likely hours, from another lengthy session of tests. They'd taken more blood than they should have, and he hadn't even made it to his bunk before passing out.
    “Your friends are alive, each in their own cell.” Graves finally spoke. “They've been asking about you.”
    Greg took a moment to marshal his thoughts.
    “Why are you telling me this?” he asked.
    It didn't occur to Greg to disbelieve Graves' words. There was some unspoken wavelength between the two of them that had somehow manifested itself over the past however many days Greg had been here.
    “ I respect you and...” Here, Graves hesitated. “You interest me,” he admitted.
    “ What? How?” This had him genuinely intrigued.
    Grave' shoulders sagged a little. He reached up and ran a finger along his scar, tracing it gently. His crimson eyes never left Greg's.
    “I was born in a shit district of a shit colony on a miserable little rock. I was small, until I hit puberty, then I was huge. People used to fuck with me. I got expelled when I took my revenge and put four kids in the hospital. The Marines found me in prison. I joined up, and found that I was good at hurting people. Took me twenty years to end up here with Dark Ops, Williams, and his cell. I hurt a lot of people along the way.”
    As his head cleared, Greg felt more and more confused. Everything about Graves up to this point had spoken of regimented secrecy, warning Williams when he was going too far with information, keeping Greg in the dark.
    “Why are you telling me this?” Greg shifted into a more comfortable position.
    “ Your memory,” Graves replied. “You're all scrubbed clean and brand new. You're empty, but still functional. It's a strange thing, to be that.”
    He was silent for another long moment, still staring at Greg, who began to feel vaguely uncomfortable.
    “Don't ever let anyone pigeonhole you, Bishop. Don't ever let yourself become about something you don't like, or something that's adverse to who you are. You've got this opportunity, this clean slate. I became what I am out of necessity.”
    “ Not much opportunity for me here, Graves,” Greg replied evenly.
    Graves simply nodded to this, as though he agreed. Greg felt that there was some kind of subtext going on, some deeper level to this conversation, but he couldn't quite ferret it out. Graves looked like he wanted to say more, but stood abruptly. He moved for the door, but as he reached it, his massive frame filling it, he stopped.
    “Been hearing voices in here?” he asked softly.
    “ Don't know what you mean,” Greg replied.
    Graves nodded as if satisfied with this answer. “Don't trust the voices, Bishop.”
    He moved once more, and stopped, again. This time, he turned around and stared deliberately at Greg. “If you somehow make it out of this cell...don't think for a second that I won't come after you like a fucking archangel.”
    To this, Greg had nothing to say, so he simply nodded. Graves turned and left, closing and securing the door behind him. Greg stared at the door for a long time, waiting for something, though he wasn't sure what.
    Several minutes later, overhead, the voice spoke. “Are you ready to hear my plan, Greg?”

Chapter 03
    – Breakout –
     
     
    They woke Greg up sometime the next day and led him through the hallways. He found himself considering Graves' curious words, and his chilling promise. It wouldn't be long now before Greg found out what he was made of, if he had what it took to survive this mess he'd gotten himself into. Occasionally, his thoughts strayed to Kyra and the others, but mainly Kyra. Having been inside her, he now felt a connection to her that was stronger than ever. Maybe he was stupid for thinking so, but it was the truth to him.
    They took him through the stark, sterile corridors to the medical bay, laid him on a table, and hooked him up. The pair of med-techs were experts at what they did, calm and professional. Despite this, the process still took