Mirror Man

In Sergeant James Cone’s opinion, Nesbit wasn’t much of a soldier. It wasn’t that he was bad necessarily at soldiering; he just wasn’t good at anything. Oh Nesbit would march, he could shoot (mostly) straight, and he obeyed orders. But that was all he did. He literally would do exactly as much as he had to. No more, no less, just enough. Cone’s superiors didn’t seem to see anything wrong with this, as they couldn’t all show initiative, want career advancement, or a dozen other things that Cone considered made a good soldier. Sadly Nesbit didn’t have them. Or at least he didn’t want to have them.

But he could talk. God could he talk. And he did. Frequently. Which was what he was doing now.

’So I says to ‘er’ Nesbit said excitedly ‘how bout we go back to the barracks for a bit of heavy drilling, if you know what I mean...?’ He finished this fascinating revelation with a broad wink. Sadly Cone knew exactly what he meant. He should have reported it really; it was against regs. But what was the point? It wouldn’t bother Nesbit; he had nothing to lose, as his career was going nowhere. Apparently he was waiting for some sort of response to his previous sally. Sighing, Cone said yes, he knew what he meant. This lead to a predictably long description of said night with ‘this fit bird’ he had met. There might actually have been such a woman, or it might have been entirely made up. He was quite capable of both.

‘What I’d like to know’ stated Cone, interrupting the still jabbering Nesbit ‘is why I’m stuck here, in the middle of the Hertfordshire countryside, listening to you talk bollocks about some bird you supposedly met in the pub?’

Nesbit looked offended.

’Wadda ya mean, ‘supposedly’?! I said I met ‘er didn’t I?’

Cone sighed again. He was a big man, six feet two inches tall, broad, and athletic. He liked to keep fit, and although he was in his late thirties, he could still out perform most of his unit in physical exercises. Nesbit on the other hand was small, wiry, and ratty looking. He was not Cone’s favourite person, and if he ever got hold of whoever thought it would be funny to put him on guard duty with ‘ratty’ Nesbit, he’d kick his arse, even if it was an officer.

Nesbit was rambling on again, so Cone turned away and looked around him. They were indeed in some beautiful Hertfordshire countryside, if you looked past all the fencing, guard towers, and patrols. It wasn’t quite overt enough to look like a top secret government installation, but that’s exactly what it was. At least on the inside. Outside, it was (to the public) a training centre for special equipment, well away from where it could harm anybody. Officially it was to test civilian mining equipment, although he’d never seen any. He had however, been made to sign the official secrets act, and not to disclose anything he’d seen or heard. Not that there was much of that either. Nesbit was still rabbiting, apparently oblivious to the fact that Cone wasn’t listening.

‘I’d hear a lot more if it wasn’t for that twat...’ he muttered. Nesbit stopped talking for a moment.

‘You say something sarge?’ he enquired.

‘No...’ Cone replied ‘just thinking out loud...’

They both stood still as a small tremor moved the earth beneath them. He should be used to it by now, but it still scared the shit out of him when it happened. Turning away from the countryside, he turned to look back at what they were guarding, which was solid metal doors with an electronic keypad next to them in a wall, set back in a small hill. This seemed to lead to some sort of tunnel underground, although he couldn’t say for sure because he’d only seen glimpses of it. He knew the code for the door, but was ordered not to use it unless in dire circumstances. Just what those circumstances might be was left up to him.

Although he didn’t know what was actually going on here, there were rumours about it. Some he thought were utter shite (there’s a UFO buried down there, we’re taking its technology) to some plausible (rare metals) to some he thought might be true (underground weapons testing – thus the tremors) but no one knew for sure except the men and women in white coats who spent days at a time down there. One thing he had heard a white coated worker mentioning was something about ‘particle fields’ and ‘quantum physics’. He’d googled them both when he’d got off duty, but he was still none the wiser.

There was another tremor, this one was bigger, and accompanied by some shaking of some of the buildings in the compound. For a moment there was absolute silence. Even Nesbit had shut up for a moment. He opened his mouth yet again when the ground suddenly lifted. It shot up what seemed like miles, but was in actual fact probably around two or three feet. It happened across a big area, buildings in the compound shaking and rumbling. Just as suddenly the ground dropped back down, leaving Cone and Nesbit to fall with a yell onto their backs, the wind knocked out of them. After a few seconds of shock, Nesbit sat up, groaning, while Cone clambered groggily to his feet. He picked up his rifle that he’d dropped, motioning for Nesbit to do the same. The other man complied, jabbering about his back hurting. All around them was the tinkling of broken glass, and voices yelling, asking what had happened. Sirens blared loud warnings, adding to the chaos.

’What the fuck was th-’ Cone began, when he heard screaming. He and Nesbit turned to look at the steel door. The screaming was coming from behind it, the sound muffled by the steel.

‘What the fuck is going on sarge...?’ Nesbit asked in hushed tones. He was staring at the door like it was a rabid lion, about to attack. Cone moved towards it. Putting his ear to the cold metal, he could quite clearly hear screaming. There seemed to be some other noise too, one he couldn’t identify, but one that made his arse clench. He scrambled to find his radio. He pressed the send button.

‘Control this is unit two do you copy?’ he said into the microphone. There was no reply. He tried again.

‘Control, this is unit two do you copy, over?’ Nothing. The screaming from behind the door seemed to become louder. He pressed the button enough to make it crack, and yelled into the radio.

‘For fucks sake control WAKE UP! I need ORDERS! There’s a situation in sector one! ADVISE PLEASE!’

Still nothing. He began to panic, and forced it down. Training took over. He made a decision, and began to punch in the access code on the keypad. Seeing him doing this, Nesbit became nervous.

’Sergeant we’ve got orders not to go in there. And judging by the sound of it I don’t want to go in there...’. Cone ignored him and finished the code. The doors hissed open, and a rush of cool air went past them, revealing a steel corridor, fluorescent lighting down the middle. After seven or eight feet, the corridor went down into the ground at an angle, where it seemed to become concrete. The screaming was quite audible now, and if anything had become louder and more frenzied. Cone hefted his assault rifle, and lifting it in front of him, slowly advanced down the tunnel. He glanced back to make sure Nesbit was following, which he wasn’t.

‘Nesbit, I need cover! Get your arse behind me!’ he growled. ‘That’s an order!’

Nesbit hesitated, before muttering ‘for fucks sake...’ lifting his rifle, and following as ordered. Cone sighed with relief. He did not want to go in there alone. He turned back down the corridor once more. He advanced a few feet when he jumped and swore, spinning round and training his rifle as there was a sound behind him. Nesbit half screamed, swinging his rifle round wildly. It was the doors closing behind them.

‘Fuck me...’ Cone breathed, trying to slow his racing heart, he lowered his gun. He glared at Nesbit, as though it was his fault. For his part, Nesbit didn’t give a shit. He was absolutely terrified, and he didn’t give a toss who knew it. Abruptly, all went silent. The screaming stopped, the sirens stopped, everything went quiet.

’Christ, now what?’ Cone muttered, just before the lights went out and left them in absolute darkness. For a moment Cone froze, heart nearly stopping. Then once again, training took over, and he fumbled in his webbing for a metal torch. They were all issued one, as a part of standard equipment, though he’d never thought he’d be using it in this situation, or anything remotely like it. He could hear Nesbit gibbering and moaning, on the ragged edge of panic.

‘Sarge?! You there sarge?! For fucks sake WHERE ARE YOU?!’ he screamed, terror evident in his voice.

‘I’m right here Nesbit, now calm down and find a torch before I accidentally shoot you in the dark’ Cone responded firmly but quietly. He couldn’t really recriminate Nesbit when he was on the verge of panic himself. Training covered a lot of things, but being in a pitch black tunnel, with weird earthquakes, screaming and other shit going on wasn’t generally part of it, so he could forgive him to some extent. Finding his torch at last, he switched it on. Shadows leapt and loomed, playing off the steel walls of the short corridor, before it disappeared into the ground. Seemingly reassured somewhat by the light, Nesbit found his torch, and following his Sergeants example, clipped to the barrel of his rifle. Now if there was anything to see and be shot at, the gun would be pointing the same way as the torch.

Turning back to the entrance with his torch, Cone confirmed what he had suspected. The power to the doors was out, and the keypad was dark. They’d have to restore power from the outside, or force the doors open. There was no way he and Nesbit could do it. Left with no alternative but to go forward, he turned to face the downward slope, and started walking slowly. As the only other option was to be left on his own, Nesbit reluctantly followed, jerking his rifle around left and right, up and down, until Cone testily told him to pack it up as it was making him dizzy.

The two men crept slowly down the concrete slope, deeper into the earth. Cone had no idea how far they’d come, or how deep, but it seemed a long way down. Abruptly the floor levelled out, and the corridor seemed to widen. He began picking out other corridors running off it, and doors spaced along them. Shining his light in a few, it became clear these were some sort of living quarters, with clothes and lab coats thrown over bunks. From what he could tell from moving his torch around, they didn’t seem to be staying here for long. The rooms were small and spartan, more like camping quarters than anything else. They moved further along, and came to what appeared to be a lab.

At least it looked as Cone imagined a lab would look. There were test tubes, centrifuges, computers, all the paraphernalia he associated with technical boffins, not that he knew much about it.

‘’ere sarge’ Nesbit whispered, making Cone jump ’where do you think all that yelling and shit came from? It’s a long way down, if it was from ’ere how did we ‘ear it?’

‘How the fuck should I know?’ Cone replied grumpily, heart hammering, trying to look all ways at once. ‘I know as much as you do don’t I?’

Suddenly a dim light came on, and a centrifuge whirred into life. Both men, nerves absolutely fried, swivelled and opened fire on it blowing it to smithereens, the noise in the confined space deafening. Cone ceased firing at once, but Nesbit emptied a clip into it, his gun clicking on empty when he ran out of bullets. Panicking, he fumbled to release the clip and insert another, when Cone grabbed his arm and shook him.

’Get a fucking grip’ he hissed at the terrified private. Nesbit took a deep breath, and calmed a little. But he still inserted a fresh clip, looking nervously around him.

‘Emergency lighting and electricity’ Cone muttered ’must have come on when the mains went out. Not enough for the computers, but just enough to start that thing up and scare the shit out of us. Well at least we can see something now...’.

The emergency lights seemed to make the shadows deeper. Although they could see more than by torchlight, it was still very dim, his imagination insisted that things lurked in dark.

‘Come on, maybe we can find the main breakers or something, maybe get the power back on and get the fuck out of here’ Cone said. Moving on once more, he lifted his rifle and slowly continued through the room. He kept the torch on, because although he could see somewhat now, he wanted all the fucking light he could get. This whole situation had him spooked, and he did not want to be in the dark again if the power went off. Nesbit reluctantly followed, seeming a bit steadier now. Poor solider or not, some of that training stuck, and Nesbit swung round to look behind them now and again, just like he should.

They came to a large door on the far side of the lab. This was open partially, which was just as well, as it was about a foot thick, and they would never have moved it without power. It had large red letters and warning signs on it. The biggest one read:

‘NO ADMITTANCE WHILE FIELD IS OPERATING! DOOR TO REMAIN LOCKED DURING THIS TIME!’

‘Well it ain’t friggin locked now’ Nesbit remarked, making Cone jump again. He motioned for Nesbit to cover him, and he moved round to the open gap in the door. It was just large enough for him to squeeze through. Moving inside, checking that Nesbit was behind him giving him cover (he was, good lad) he moved slowly into the room. It was huge. It had a high ceiling, and equipment stacked all over. What sort of equipment he couldn’t have said, but there seemed to be some sort of projectors, all facing into the centre.

In the middle was a huge polished surface, the dim light reflecting off it. No hang on, it wasn’t polished, it was a giant mirror...

’What the fuck were you people doing down here...?’ he breathed, still advancing. Suddenly he tripped over something on the floor, and swearing struggled to maintain his balance. He staggered a few steps before pitching headlong, his shoulder hitting something soft and yielding. In the dim light he couldn’t quite make out what it was, so reaching for the torch on his rifle (he wasn’t letting go of that, not in here) he unclipped it and shined it on whatever he had stumbled into.

For a second he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. Then he started screaming, scrambling to his backside and scuttling away from it.

Hearing the screams, Nesbit came running in, looking for an enemy or target. In that moment Cone might have been proud of him, because just for once he looked every inch the solider. Rifle up, slightly crouched, checking for danger. Seeing no immediate threat, he lowered his rifle and grabbed his Sergeants shoulder, who was still yelling and moaning.

‘Sarge? SARGE!’ he yelled, trying to calm him. Cone took a deep, shuddering breath, and motioned his left, where he’d seen it. Nesbit lifted his rifle, and shined the torch in the direction Cone indicated.

’What the fuck...?’ he said in hushed tones. It was an arm. A human arm, sticking up out of the floor like it had been planted there. It appeared to have a white sleeve on it, like that from a lab coat. Nesbit could make out a wedding ring on one finger and long polished nails. Oh well he thought they’re armless. He began to laugh hysterically. Cone meanwhile climbed to his feet, still shaking liked a leaf. He didn’t want to look at it, but he couldn’t not look at it. There was no blood, no ragged edge as if it had been cut off; just an arm in the floor like it was part of it. He looked around the chamber.

’Just what the hell were they doing down here? How the fuck do you get an arm to just...stick up of the ground...?’ A wave of unreality washed over Cone. Then he noticed something to the right of the arm, and he almost lost his mind. If he hadn’t been numbed already, he might well have done. Pointing with his torch, he muttered to Nesbit ‘tell me you see that...’ Nesbit looked, and shouted with surprise and horror.

’That’s a fucking head! Someone’s fucking head! Sarge it’s halfway in the fucking floor!! How the fuck did they do that?!

The head didn’t answer (it seemed to be a man’s head), and by now they were getting so numbed to it all it wouldn’t have seemed strange if had said hello. Like the arm, it seemed to be melded perfectly into the floor, as if it was part of it. It was tilted on the side, one eye and part of the head showing, the rest seamlessly blended with the flooring. The long hair splayed around it, like some sort of mad shampoo advert. Cone felt his sanity tottering, and closing his eyes, he struggled to get a grip.

They heard a sound. For a moment neither of them could locate it, then they turned toward the giant mirror in the centre of the room. Moving closer, they discovered it was actually three mirrors, making a vertical prism. In one of these was whatever was making the sound. Cone reluctantly shone his torch on the mirror. He began muttering under his breath, backing away slowly.

‘Nonononono...!’ speaking so fast he made it seem one word, he kept backing until he ran into one of the banks of equipment, and could go no further. He stood there, still muttering ‘no’ under his breath. Nesbit was stock still; transfixed. There was a man in the mirror. A Mirror Man. And not that shit song by The Human League either he thought randomly. There was literally a man in the mirror. It looked like one of the lab techs. Or at least, he had the white coat on, an ID badge, pens in his coat pocket...there was even the bulge of what was probably a mobile phone in one of his bigger pockets. He appeared to be standing, or floating, or god only knew what, his eyes were closed and they couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. It wasn’t like he was in water, he his hair wasn’t waving around, he was just...there...

Against his will, almost drawn in, Nesbit moved closer. Cone tried to tell him to stay away, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to work. Nesbit moved in and touched the glass. The man’s eyes opened, and he screamed. Nesbit stumbled backwards and fell, his eyes never leaving the screaming figure. The man’s screaming sounded strange, like he was far away, and they could barely hear it. The figure began hammering at the glass with both fists, like he was beating a wall. Nesbit climbed back to his feet, and once more approached. The man in the mirror looked directly at him, and although clearly panicking, tried to say something.

Cone moved closer, overcoming some of his fear. For all this was a severely weird fucked up situation, this poor sod needed help, if he could give it at all. Nesbit lifted his rifle, and turned the butt to the mirror, drawing it back. Cone yelled at him to stop, and he paused.

‘Sarge we need to get the poor fucker out of there!’ he said half angry, half terrified.

’We don’t know how the fuck he got in there’ Cone responded, moving closer. ‘If we break it we might kill him’ or something worse. He wasn’t really sure what could be worse than being trapped in a mirror, but he wasn’t about to risk finding out. Meanwhile the man had gone back to pounding on the mirror from the inside, and he was now definitely mouthing ‘help me’. Cone looked around the area for something that might help, looking for inspiration more than anything else. He was still looking and hoping when Nesbit called his attention back to the mirror.

‘Sarge, something’s going on’ he announced.

Cone looked back, to see the man looking over his shoulder. Suddenly he turned his back to the two soldiers, and put his hands out, like he was trying to ward something off. Cone looked past the man, but he couldn’t see anything. Abruptly the man seemed to be yanked forwards, and he was gone.

‘What?! What?! What?!’ Nesbit exclaimed, looking left and right, as if the man had jumped out from behind the mirror and come out. ‘Where the fuck did he go?!’

Cone moved as close as he dared, searching for a sign of where the man might have gone.

’He didn’t go anywhere’ Cone said quietly ’he was taken...we need to get the fuck out of here...’

‘You won’t get any argument from me sir’ Nesbit replied fervently. ‘I’d rather wait upstairs where I can see shit coming.’

Cone shook himself. He turned away from the mirror.

‘Right, you take point private, I’ll cover, we’ll go back to the doors and we’ll wait for the fucking cavalry’.

‘Yes sir’ Nesbit replied, looking more assured.

‘Ok, lets g –’ Cone began, when something reached through the glass of the mirror and grabbed him. Yelling in terror, he tried to pull away, but it was strong. He was yanked back against the glass, his head banging against it, making him see stars. He couldn’t see what it was that had him, but Nesbit clearly could and was screaming at the top of his lungs. Nesbit lifted his rifle, and as he did so Cone felt himself start to sink into the mirror. He went cold, and started to lose consciousness. The back of his head and shoulders were touching the mirror and they felt like ice. As blackness claimed him, he heard the loud report of an automatic rifle, and then he knew no more.