13 Serialisation of the book 'Uprising' 1st book in the 'Corpalism' series - by Arun D Ellis

The Interrogation
“No! Please! I'll tell you whatever you want to know!" the man yelled.
"Really?" said Vimes.
"What's the orbital velocity of the moon?"
Terry Pratchett, Night Watch

The two brawny coppers dumped Terry in the chair; he took a moment to wonder if there was an endless supply of these beefy physical specimens or whether they were the same two who had been harassing him the whole time. He was still naked and by now extremely cold; shivering so much his teeth were chattering. In front of him was a table and chair to the sides of which stood two more bulky policemen. ‘Ah, there’re more of them’. After a few minutes yet another one entered the room and sat opposite Terry.

“Name?” someone asked. Terry didn’t know who asked or where the voice came from, same as he didn’t really know who hit him seconds after the question was asked.

“Name?” someone repeated the question.

“Fuck you!” shouted Terry, he knew it was stupid but the words were out before he had time to control himself.

“I thought he was ready,” said the seated policeman.
Silence in the room.

“Well, take him back,” said the seated policeman, “Try something else.”

∞

“Right Jimmy,” said the copper, “listen, you listening?”

“Yeah,” answered Jimmy. “I’m listening, but let’s get on with it”

“We’ve loosened him up, just want you to do him over a bit more, but we want him to be able to talk after, understand?”

“Does he need to be able to walk?” asked Jimmy.

“You’re a bit keen, aren’t you… but look, as long as he can still talk, we don’t care.”

“And our deal stands?” asked Jimmy, “I’ll be released afterwards.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said the cop, “we’ll let you go.”

Jimmy was alive with excitement as they bundled him into the small exercise yard and closed the door behind him. Things don’t get any better than this. Moments later Terry was shoved through a door at the other end of the yard. Jimmy’s joy when he saw him, naked, covered in blood from a head wound and strangely bent over, knew no bounds.

“Oh!” he exclaimed bouncing towards him “it must be my birthday. Or p’raps it’s Christmas, is it?”

“Shit,” muttered Terry, seeing immediately that Jimmy was in far better condition than himself whilst at the same moment recognising that away from his brothers he seemed smaller, ordinary. He quickly scanned about him for means of escape. The walls 10 feet high and topped with razor wire and the doors were both solid metal, “Shit,”

“Oh shit, yes my boy,” said Jimmy happily, “we’re going to have so much fun, you and I.”

Terry gritted his teeth, ‘Dig deep,’ he told himself.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for what you did to us,” crowed Jimmy.

Terry started to circle, keeping his back to the wall.

“Where you going?” asked Jimmy, “please stay, we have so much to go over together,” launching a surprise boot at Terry’s groin. Terry pushed it away with his palm, the movement jarring his shoulder but throwing Jimmy slightly off balance.

‘Okay,’ thought Terry, ‘don’t waste energy, concentrate and time it right.’

Jimmy rushed forward, threw a left and a right and another boot but Terry patted them all away with the palm of his hand, still circling slowly.

“Oh you’re a smart arse, aren’t you;” said Jimmy, “well let’s see what you can do with this?”

He ducked low and launched at Terry’s waist, driving his right shoulder into Terry’s stomach and wrapping his arms around his thighs. The intention was clear; lift him up and throw him on his back but Terry was wise to the move, leant forward over him, wrapped his arms around his waist and flicked his legs backwards. His whole weight was suddenly on Jimmy’s back and Jimmy’s face hit the concrete with Terry crashing down on top of him. Terry quickly extricated himself and moved to the other end of the yard.

“Oh, you are a tricky bastard,” said Jimmy getting to his feet, stumbling a bit, wiping blood from his nose with the back of his hand “but you’re gonna run out of luck soon.”

‘Don’t I know it, and I don’t like being naked,’ thought Terry. In fact he was a mess, hunched over to his right protecting his bruised ribs whilst his left dropped low to guard his groin, ‘I am gonna get so fucked up …’.

Jimmy bounced over, his guard held high. He threw his left foot forward in a low kick, and this time aimed at Terry’s lead shin, his left leg. Terry pulled his leg back but kept it in the air and let Jimmy’s foot land; Jimmy was now over stretched, though only slightly. Terry kicked out with a low turning kick, connecting sharply with the side of Jimmy’s over stretched lead knee. Jimmy grimaced as his knee joint opened and closed, tearing a bit of soft tissue. Terry stepped slightly to his left, rose to his full height, his ribs tearing and popped a left into Jimmy’s right temple. Jimmy’s head began to spin and he was only vaguely aware of the fists now raining down on his face. Terry sprang back into the middle of the yard leaving Jimmy staggering from the force of the attack.

The copper peering through the peep hole into the yard moaned, “Fucking idiot, he’s useless.” The copper then signaled to his two colleagues further down the corridor, “He’s messed it up; it’ll have to be us again.”

Jimmy shook his head, raised his guard and began to advance on Terry, just as the door behind him opened and three coppers dashed into the yard. One of them smacked the back of Jimmy’s head with his night stick and he fell silently to the ground.

Another clubbed Terry who dropped to his knees then rolled into the foetus position; he didn’t shout because he thought help would come, he shouted because it was all he had left.

∞

Two hours later Terry was once again in the chair opposite the three coppers.

“Name?”

“Terry,” he muttered.

“Name?”

“Terry,” he said louder.

“Full name.” instructed someone.

“Terry Jones,” he said.

Someone then hit him on the back of the head, “Full name.”

“Terry Clive Jones,” he said, “but you already know that if you’ve scanned my chip.”

“Of course we do,” said the seated copper, “but we want you to tell us.”

“Why?”

“To show willing,” he said.

“Oh, well that’s okay then. Terry Clive Jones,” he said sarcastically. Someone else hit him on the other side of his head.

“What are you doing here?” asked the seated copper.
Terry shook his head.

Someone hit him again and instructed him to answer the question.

“I don’t understand the question,” he yelled, “I don’t know why I’m here, you arrested me.”

“In Boro,” said the cop behind the desk, “why are you here in Boro?”

“But you already know that,” said Terry.

Someone hit him again.

“Look,” snapped Terry, “I used to work for Relocations and I know that when someone is sent to the sinks their file is forwarded to the nearest station, so you already have my details.”
Someone hit him again.

“You know why I’m here!” he yelled.

He was hit again.

“Leave him,” instructed the seated cop, “yes we know what the paperwork says, but why are you here?”

“Because I got sacked,” snapped Terry.

Someone hit him again and told him to show more respect.

“Because I got sacked,” he murmured, flinching.

“Why are you here?”

“Because I was sacked,” Then he was surrounded and hit several times by several coppers. After a few minutes they backed off, leaving him dazed. Someone threw a bucket of cold water over him, so now he was confused, wet, cold, sore, hurting and seriously fucking annoyed.

“Why are you here?”

“Because I lost my job,” said Terry, “and had debts.”

This was met by silence.

“I lost my job and had too many debts so I’m here to work them off,” said Terry.

“We know this,” said the seated cop, “but why else are you here?”

“No other reason,” beseeched Terry, “I just got sacked, Jesus I don’t believe this, this is the fucking worst year of my life, what the fuck is going on?”

Once again he was surrounded and hit several times before the coppers returned to their stations.

“Okay,” said the seated cop, “if that’s why you’re here, why were you teaching those people martial arts?”

“What?”

“Why were you teaching martial arts!” shouted the copper to Terry’s left.

“I don’t know,” said Terry, “They asked me to.”

“Why were you teaching martial arts?” repeated the seated cop.

“Because they asked me too,” said Terry.

Again he was surrounded and beaten.

“Why were you teaching martial arts?” asked the seated cop.

“Look,” said Terry, his words dripping out with his blood, “I won’t do it again okay. I don’t know what you want me to say. They asked me to so I said yes.”

“Why were you teaching martial arts?”

Terry sighed and dipped his head, drawing back from the expected beating.

“Why were you teaching martial arts?”

“Why not?” asked Terry, “I mean why not? What’s wrong with doing that?”

“It’s forbidden,” said the seated cop, “to train civilians in fighting techniques that they will use to cause a disturbance,”

“Well okay then,” said Terry, “I won’t do it again. Okay?”

“But why were you teaching them?” asked the seated cop.

“I don’t know,” said Terry, “they asked me to, what should I of said? Should I of said no? Is that it? Because if that’s it, I won’t teach them, I won’t teach anyone.”

“Why were you teaching them martial arts?”

“Oh fuck off,” said Terry, and was instantly surrounded.

“That’s enough - take him to his cell,” instructed the seated cop.

∞

Superintendent Travers signed off the paperwork on Terry’s file, “Okay, Duggan, and we’re sure there’s nothing in it, no threat intended or anything?”

“I’m sure sir,” answered Inspector Duggan, “he’s just an idiot, new to the area and didn’t think what he was doing.”

“Okay, but I think it would be wise to keep tabs on this one,” said the Super.

“Agreed sir,” said Duggan, “no point taking chances.”

∞

Half an hour later Terry found himself dumped on the street outside the police station next to the unconscious form of Jimmy O’Connell.

“Well, well, well,” said Terry, prodding Jimmy in the side “look who we have here.”

Cheers for reading

Arun






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