Furnace 5 - Execution Read Online Free

he said, the words crystal clear even though I knew it wasn’t my language he spoke. Those pale blue eyes caught the light from the remaining torches, burning with a raging fire despite the fact he must have been right on the edge of death. I wanted to go to him, to hold out my hand to him, to cradle him, but it was hopeless. The only thing I could do was listen to his voiceless denials, to believe him. I could do that, I would do that.
    ‘I know,’ I said, the words only in my head. And I did know. The kid, Alfred Furnace, was telling the truth. He seemed to manage a smile, nothing more than a tremor of his thin, blue lips, two final words tumbling out alongside his dying breaths.
    Thank you .

The Hospital

    For a second – a single, terrifying second – I thought I had woken up in Furnace Penitentiary.
    I was lying in a cell, walls of white-painted concrete and a door of solid iron barricaded shut. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, filling the room with blinding light. My body had been wrapped in black wire from neck to toe, so much of it that I felt as though I had been cocooned. I tried moving, but just like in my dream I was powerless, my binds fixed to a bed or table beneath me. Cables slid out from various parts of my body, connected to half a dozen machines along the left-hand wall of the cell, all beeping gently as if discussing the news of my waking.
    It took me a moment to work out that I wasn’t in the prison infirmary, a moment which seemed endless. I looked up and back, seeing a window in the wall behind my head. It was barred, but the dust-specked glow that streamed through came from the sun dangling right outside. Its golden touch filled me with relief, my heart calming and my muscles relaxing. I was aboveground, I wasn’t in Furnace, I was safe.
    There was a camera mounted in the corner of the room and it must have been switched on because a series of thunderclaps echoed out from the door, bolts being slid back and locks being opened. It swung inwards, and I expected to see blacksuits enter, or soldiers, armed to the teeth and ready to attack. Instead, the person who stepped cautiously into the room was a woman in her forties, dressed like a doctor, a delicate silver chain swinging from her neck. Her greying blonde hair was cropped short, and her crinkled blue gaze was the kind that instantly makes you feel welcome. She was carrying a canvas chair, unfolding it beside my bed then perching on the edge, never taking her eyes off me.
    She opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated, her arms reaching up to the necklace. She unclasped it, leaning forward, and I saw the small pendant attached to it, a man carrying another man over a river. I should know what this is , I thought to myself, but the memories just wouldn’t come. The woman deftly clipped the chain around my neck, slipping it under the wire so that the cool silver lay against my chest.
    ‘We found this in your pocket,’ she said, and I noticed that her accent was the same as somebody else’s I once knew, a boy called Zee. I tried to pull an arm free but the wire gripped me like a million fingers, refusing to grant me an inch. The frustration boiled up my throat and I heard myself growling, a throbbing snarl that filled the room like liquid. The woman didn’t flinch.
    ‘It’s okay,’ she went on, resting her hand on my shoulder. ‘Please just relax, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I wanted to give it back to you myself, a sign of good faith. I wanted you to know that you’re safe here.’
    I was too confused and too angry to take in what she was saying. What right did she have to keep me here? Didn’t she know who I was, what I was capable of? The nectar was a growing storm inside me, I could feel it in my veins, giving me more power than this woman could ever comprehend. And yet when I tried to move, I couldn’t. I thrashed my head back and forth, dirty spittle streaming from between my lips. The woman shook her head, frowning,