The Island by Michael Bray Read Free Book Online Page B

with it. He had let her for a while, feeling like absolute scum for keeping a certain coldness between them if only to make leaving her there easier. He had pulled away from her, holding her at arms distance. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do to reassure her, but no words would come. Instead, he had picked up the application form from the table and left without saying another word to her.             
     
    TWO
     
    He had walked towards the Lomar Corporation building, the imposing tower seeming to pull him towards it by means of some kind of invisible rope. He felt somehow detached from his own body. Now that he was alone, he didn’t feel the need to hide the bitter taste of fear in the back of his throat. He felt no shame in it, and although he had hope otherwise it didn’t fill him with the kind of hardnosed determination he had expected to feel. He anticipated crowds, people in their hundreds, maybe even their thousands, clamouring to hand in their application forms and take a chance on making a change for the better.
    Instead, to his surprise, there were no crowds as he made his way closer to the building. No groups of excited people trying to beg their way into the contest. The building, if anything looked deserted. He frowned as he walked towards the entrance, glass doors sliding open to accommodate him. Even the reception was quiet, and he walked across the marble floor to the counter, glancing at the steel LOMAR logo on the wall behind the harsh faced receptionist.
    “I, uh, I’m here about The Island,” he muttered. Still feeling detached, still able to feel that bitter taste in his mouth.
    The receptionist, who had perfected the art of the snooty, down the glasses stare, glanced at him, then his application form. “Forty fourth floor. Elevator is at the end of the hall. Go right up.” With that, she turned her attention back to the well-thumbed romance paperback he had pulled her from and continued to go on as if he didn’t exist.
    He looked around the cavernous reception, which, other than a janitor mopping the floor down the hall, was deserted. He walked towards the elevators, application form rolled up in one hand as the little voice in his head screamed at him to forget it and go home to his wife and family. He pushed the button by the steel doors, hoping he would get at least a few minutes to consider his options, but the doors opened immediately. He stepped inside, punching the number of the floor he wanted on the touchpad inlayed in the door, and waited as the reception was lost from view, and the journey to whatever awaited him on floor forty four began.
     
    THREE
     
    It took less than a minute for the doors to chime and open. A plush red carpet greeted him, immediately in front of which was another reception, this time manned by a slim man with a beak like nose. Unlike his sour-faced companion downstairs, he greeted Chase with a broad smile.
    “Welcome to the Lomar Corporation. Are you here for The Island?”
    He nodded. That bitter fear taste was growing stronger.
    “Can I see your application form please?”
    Chase looked at the form still clutched in his right hand. The persistent voice in his head reminded him that this was his last chance to change his mind and go home. Stubborn as ever, Chase ignored it and handed the paper over, feeling a sense of smug satisfaction that he had gone through with it. The receptionist looked over the form, keying in some details on his computer screen. He held out a small rectangular pad to Chase.
    “Please place your palm on the scanner.”
    “What for?” Chase asked, giving the square pad a mistrustful glance.
    “Standard health check,” the receptionist fired back, flashing a polite smile. “Policy for all applicants.”
    This was something he hadn’t anticipated. He had planned on there being no health checks of any kind, especially due to the nature of the programme. His health was bad, he knew he had