The Scream of Feyer: hitching a ride with a suicide bomber Read online

  The Scream of Feyer

  (Sequel to THIRTY FOUR MINUTES DEAD)

  By Steve Hammond Kaye

  * * * * * * * * *

  WARNING

  This book contains graphic scenes of sex, violence and horror. It is NOT suitable for minors.

  If you have painful memories of abortion, genocide, rape and /or bombings, then please DO NOT read this book.

  Published by:

  www.publishing.standardcut.co.uk [email protected]

  Copyright Notice

  This book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author and / or publisher acting on behalf of the author as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright © law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Version 1 released June 2013

  Published in 2013 in the UK by:

  International House

  39 Great Windmill Street

  LONDON

  W1D 7LX

  www.standardcut.co.uk

  [email protected]

  The Scream of Feyer © Copyright Steve Hammond Kaye 2013. All rights reserved.

  Front Cover art © Copyright Steve Mullins

  Front cover images Copyright Lightspring & Kathy Gold, 2013. Used under license from Shutterstock.com. All rights reserved.

  Bones of a Madman image by Justin Mason.

  eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9574795-3-1

  Paperback version also available.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s and / or authors prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title

  © Copyright Notices

  Dedication

  Thirty Four Minutes Dead (Prequel)

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Dedicated to Nicholas Kirkby

  My soul brother.

  Thirty Four Minutes Dead

  The prequel to The Scream of Feyer

  (BUY from the kindle store)

  Gregory Vain, a pioneering neurosurgeon and part of 'The Memory-Camera Project' is part of a pioneering team that develops the ability to unlock the frozen images stored within the cortex of the dead mind and to read the living, thinking brain. He must also fend-off erotic advances from the vampirical Levene to save his marriage.

  Steve Hammond Kaye’s neo-gothic techno-thriller of power, knowledge, violence, treachery and blood-lust enjoy the paginated battleground in this dystopian vision of the near future - Thirty Four Minutes Dead…

  -----

  'This is one of those rare novels that can almost burn its avant-garde visuals into your brain.'

  -----

  'All in all, this is a thinking reader's thriller that makes one consider the social and political implications of modern developments in neuroscience and the tightening government control. A must-read.'

  -----

  BUY the prequel to The Scream of Feyer today from:

  Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca | Smashwords.com

  (also available from Apple iBooks and in Paperback)

  She'll laugh at your fire…, burn in your fire…, die in your fire…

  -----

  PROLOGUE

  A thin ethereal mist still clung to the lower reaches of the valley, although the sun had risen an hour earlier. Feyer stirred and brushed the dew from her naked svelte frame.

  She pulled on her ragged clothes and then scanned her immediate surroundings. The woman knew that she was still in the valley lowlands, but the rest were not in sight. Her separation had been deliberate, giving her privacy to contemplate her situation.

  Feyer had last menstruated ten weeks hence and it looked as though sex that way had cost her dear. She had wanted to feel semen surge through her vagina again and now she was rueing her self-indulgence.

  Feyer had waited so long. Like the other women she had helped make the rules and thus she knew that penetrative sex was only allowed via the mouth or anus. She knew that this made sense, understanding that any pregnancy would slow the Avoiders down or worse – break their cover. The woman knew that she was pregnant and she acknowledged what she must do to rectify the situation. Feyer reached for her provisions bag and selected two old metal knitting needles so she could implement the necessary action.

  She lowered her jeans, but left her ragged briefs on. Feyer positioned the needles into a crevice between the tightly packed rocks nearby and she then impaled herself on the twin prongs. The woman didn’t make a sound as her blood re-coloured the basalt rock face.

  This was Feyer’s antidote to her own wayward indulgence. Her womb would carry nothing now, as she had undertaken her task with a savage resolution. She straightened and started to walk back down the trail, to where her fellow Avoiders would be located. Her blood left her scent and her maternal instincts were solidified red – left out to dry and die. Feyer glanced at the valley and quietly spoke to her world.

  "Fuck creation. You stagnant wasteland."

  Bones of a Madman by Justin Mason

  ONE

  The crowd started queuing at eight that morning. They knew that the bread lorry would arrive sometime in the next four hours. It always did.

  There was no jostling, no contention surrounding the placement order, nothing to break the uniform obedience to the Prerogative Three instructions that set their ordered lives in motion.

  A gentle wind blew down the Main Street and the faces turned to catch the cool air. The litter spread through the throng, encircling the heels of those in attendance like a missing ingredient to complete the vagrant package.

  A child let out a faint cry, not for frustration or anger and not for temper or discontent. The cry was determined by hunger, a necessity that had been kept in place. Hunger was not a threatening emotional state; just a physical need and they had allowed retention for purely pragmatic reasons.

  A lean mongrel distracted the infant and it reached out to touch the dog. This spontaneous movement caused the child to fall from the broken sidewalk and it fell quite heavily on its knees. The child began to laugh and the mother echoed the laughter with her head held aloft to the Washington sky. This reaction prompted a ripple of laughter from those around the pair and the amusement spread through the ranks like an automated chain-reaction. The infant struggled to its feet with one knee bleeding profusely. It smiled, starting to laugh again.

  At just after eleven, the bread lorry arrived being driven at high speed, frequently touching the edge of the sidewalk. One woman was standing just on the edge and the vehicle cut her dow
n before arriving at the Distribution point.

  The driver released a wry smile. He had been an MC-Project employee for a decade, but hitting one on the edge gave him as much pleasure now as it always had.

  To him the perks had been quite advantageous. He hadn’t been subjected to Prerogative Three modification and he had a vocation that never seemed to dry up.

  He had eased into the surf-line perks that the other drivers shared with him and edge- trimming was second only to the carnal privileges that the position offered him. He knew that after the bread was supplied through the line, he could take any female, enjoy his chosen pleasures and then discard the selected femme in any of the outskirt disposal sites. Unlike some of the other drivers, he never chose the release-option, preferring to retain novelty in each of his selections.

  "He’ll chose the mother Dave. You can tattoo my labia if I’m wrong!"

  Tavini waited, not responding to Levene’s challenge. He had been proved wrong in their high-rise vantage point too many times before.

  "Knew it Dave. Driver 26 is always prone to blonde selections!"

  The MC-Project pair enjoyed verbal sparring, remaining unperturbed by the felled female or the snatch of the blonde mother by Driver 26. The child was left alone as the crowd filed away with diminished smiles on their faces and low-grade baguettes in their hands. Tavini and Levene had watched the events unfold after the bread lorry had arrived. On floor twenty-nine, they were enjoying their sport before they would turn their attention to serious Memory-Camera Project business. The pair didn’t have any feelings for the vagrant throng below them. Their advanced brains had the capacity to care, but any inclination for this moral trait was discarded like spittle on the sidewalk.

  "Are you briefing the Avoider state of play at the noon meet Marcia?"

  "Yeah. All the main MC-Project players will be in attendance and I’m on first, after Mr Wheeler’s introduction."

  As Levene straightened her posture to move away from the window David Tavini saw a chance to arrest her forward motion, locking her frame with his sizeable athletic arms.

  "Those damned Driver hits always turn you on don’t they Mr Tavini?"

  "For sure. I guess Driver 26 is still the ultimate poacher in my mind. I mean the guy springs on his women like a released wild animal! He knows that the distribution crowds have been through the Prerogative Three alterations and don’t have the capacity to resist his manic advances, but he still gets pumped on some kind of depraved male savagery! A few weeks back when you were assessing Avoider activity in Europe, the guy sprang on one woman with such ferocity that he broke her fucking neck! She was mortuary-meat in a split second!"

  Marcia Levene let Tavini bend her over her favourite black power-chair. She wondered what her MC-Project colleague had in mind for their mutual satisfaction purposes. Objects were Tavini’s favourite sexual indulgence and the woman had become quite accustomed to his inventive selections. The pair had only rarely copulated because Levene had other partners for that express purpose and Tavini preferred voyeurism to penetrative sex. Despite these different preferences, they would achieve mutual sexual satisfaction by indulging in Sado-Masochism before MC-Project meetings. Tavini usually dealt and Marcia received – it was her choice to be largely passive in these instances. She waited, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

  Tavini had chosen to double-up for their sexual encounter that particular day. A small presentation microphone and an ivory letter opener were going to be his tools on this occasion. He had used the former implement on Levene before, but the sharp letter opener was making a first appearance.

  The elegant forty-four year-old female had deliberately worn attire that accentuated her height and thin frame. Her black skirt, whilst fulfilling the requirements demanded by her front-line MC-Project status, had a long split down the left-hand side that made her sessions with David an easy form of indulgence to partake in.

  As the ivory implement was teased down the contours of Levene’s spine, Tavini utilised his other hand to guide the microphone between her vagina and anus. As his implement handling became more forceful, he uttered the type of language that fully activated Marcia’s dark libido.

  “Well, your sweat and pain are going to unlock the gates of Sodom today Ms Levene – that’s if you can stay the pace!"

  Marcia Levene rose to Tavini’s challenge, arching her back to invite him in for anal penetration. Her riposte words made the man increase the force that he was using still further and the ivory implement started to leave some quite deep cuts on the woman’s back. A small volume of blood started to evidence Tavini’s presence.

  "Ever the charmer David! Are you going to carry on playing with those implements or do you intend to properly apply them!"

  The woman’s teasing choice of words prompted Tavini to bend her frame over the chair with an additional force that restricted the air entering her lungs. His left forearm encircled Marcia’s windpipe, forcing her head upwards. In unison with this act, Tavini utilised his right elbow to apply downward blows to the small of Levene’s back. The implements had been temporarily discarded, but after delivering a last vicious elbow-blow, Tavini reclaimed both of them to administer a fitting finale for their short violent encounter.

  He proceeded to perform sodomy on the woman with the microphone and he inflicted deeper cuts with the letter opener between Levene’s spinal vertebrae.

  When the S&M show was over, Levene sank to her knees, her back bleeding and her rectum painfully pulsating. She smiled at David Tavini in a demure fashion, with grateful eyes. As she walked to her office wardrobe, she reached for her red suit – the camouflage to hide her blood. She turned to David and smiled in an innocent coy manner. She uttered two words in a gentle whisper.

  "Thanks David."

  * * * * *

  Jess Wheeler climbed the four steps to the speaker’s podium and greeted the protagonists behind the American Division of the MC-Project. His great height seemed accentuated still further as he stood on the small podium.

  "I’m pleased to see you people. In the five years since my predecessor finally stood down, I’ve seen our beloved project reach new heights surrounding the control of a potentially wayward First world populace.

  "Our Prerogative Three modifications have been pivotal with regard to initiating a more passive global society. We always knew that if the negative drives lurking in the Auto-Vendetta sections of the brain were eradicated, a better, more controlled environment would ensue. I mean, when was our last riot? Sure we get isolated 'Avoider' skirmishes, but this kind of small-scale rebellion is basically like a breeze taking on a hurricane! We are that hurricane and anyone who opposes us will be nullified."

  After a brief round of applause from most of those assembled Wheeler continued.

  "I always felt that my predecessor Leif Dennison used to stand on ceremony too long at MC-Project meetings, a Vain-trait he could have done without – get it?

  "Newer MC-staff wouldn’t have got my in-joke just then, but I see acknowledgement in some of you old-hands! Sorry new-crew! That in-joke revolved around events twelve years back!

  "Right I’ll return to the Mr Wheeler that you’ve come to recognise and run our agenda by you.

  "After my intro, Marcia Levene will detail the Avoider situation in Europe and the States. We will then be able to assess the latest Prerogative Three stats courtesy of Mr Sant and Professor David Tavini will volunteer the final input before we break into sub-sections. All yours Ms Levene."

  Marcia approached the speaker’s podium with confidence. The blood on her back was starting to solidify and as the woman faced the one hundred and fifty front-line personnel she was calm, with the inner peace that Sado-Masochism had brought her!

  "I feel impelled to ensure everyone that the latest Avoider details are exactly as Mr Wheeler indicated. The Avoiders amount to nothing. They have few weapons, no base, no tactical edge and definitely no synergy or forward - planning. In short, the Avoiders are disparate ty
pes of nomadic scavengers."

  Levene briefly drank some of the mineral water provided before she continued her address.

  "In April 2005 one Avoider pack managed to destroy an MC-Project Designation structure in Seville. You will no doubt remember that isolated terrorist success, but that was some years back now and nothing of such devastation has transpired since.

  "On that occasion we managed to catch all forty-three Avoiders and each was systematically executed on the charred site of the destroyed project base. These executions knocked the Avoiders back collectively and several groups turned themselves in for a Prerogative Three armistice. The European Avoider packs are now less in number and they are nearly always located in wilderness, several kilometres from urban areas.

  "One small pack in England and another in a mountainous region of Germany occasionally manage to crack our epidermal infrastructure, but the odd blown bridge or derailed project train hardly amount to much in success terms. In all instances we are tightening the net on the Avoiders. They are easy to track from our surveillance planes and as they retreat further into the wilderness, they find fewer provisions to maintain their survival.

  "We have performed 688 Main-Vault readings and over 400 mindsight readings on Avoider prisoners in the last decade and resistance patterns have emerged."

  The crowd fixed Levene intently with their eyes, because Avoider-pattern revelations would represent new material for their consumption. Until that point Avoiders had just been demeaned en-masse and Levene had commenced with that approach, but suddenly a word that implied configuration aroused curiosity in the ranks. Levene had detected the enhanced concentration and paused briefly before continuing.