Consuming Fire

Chapter 1

1995

ICE Institution

Whistling often helped Alistair to shake the cold. There was something about a low tune in the darkness that brought even a little light to the horrible place he called a home. He whistled to give his mind something else to think about, to distract his heart from the guilt that often clawed its way into his soul.

Alistair Barnes left his quarters at 0600 hours, as he did every morning. He was already dressed in his white uniform, the cuffs of his pants grazed with dirt from the dirty cell floors. He never understood why the uniforms were white when everywhere else was like a filthy prison. A cave.

Before he went out into the silent corridor, he shot a quick glance at the splintered crucifix above his bed. A thought crossed his mind momentarily when he remembered the scripture he had read last night. In Him we have redemption. Alistair shook his head and closed the door. There would be no redemption for him.

Light from the swinging globes above guided his way, but they were not the same as real sunlight. He hadn’t felt the warmth of its rays in years, and it was starting to drain from his body like every other pleasant feeling.

Alistair nodded a quick greeting to one of the other guards as he exited his quarters. The guard didn’t speak to him. No one did.

That’s because Alistair was different.

When he took the position as a guard, he was at a point in his life where he did not care what came next. Any job, any home would do. He had no family left – his wife and son were taken from him, his addiction spiked and he became a mess. He was on the verge of jumping from the next cliff he passed just to claim release. Then one day he found himself talking to a man in a café about a job for a company that researched human genetics, and he accepted. Just like that. He didn’t think about the repercussions, nor did he realize when he signed the contract how difficult it was to resign his position.

Now Alistair knew the secrets of ICE. And every day, his conscience whispered to him about his part in the horrors that were conducted there.

Alistair made his way through the cell block, ignoring the moans of the people inside. ‘People’ was rather an inappropriate word for them – after the doctor was through, they hardly resembled people at all.

Every day Alistair asked himself why he still remained in ICE. True, there was no one he would miss. Perhaps Dr. Rosenthal was the only decent man in the entire underground facility. The unspeakable things he’d witnessed were enough to drive him to run for the exit and remain in therapy for the rest of his pathetic life.

But though his principles were just, Alistair was not allowed to leave. Dr. Winston Wolfe made sure of that. In fact, he threatened to end his existence if he ever considered leaving. Alistair believed him – the man had power not even the President possessed.

So Alistair remained and worked every day, staying under the radar, feeding the prisoners, escorting them to the labs, watching the world around him grow and expand in technology.

Until one day, a boy arrived. Then things changed.

2005

“Chevie Pulicover.” The doctor flipped through the file of check-in information, shaking his head and staring at the subject that sat on the bed inside the room. Alistair was silent, shocked beyond comprehension. It was just a normal morning. All he had to do was escort a new subject to their cell, then continue with his daily duties of being summoned and patrolling.