Free Terminal by Brian Williams

I’m Jürgen,’ the man said, giving them each a formal bow, but not offering to shake hands with them again, maybe because he still had a concern about making physical contact despite the thorough cleansing they’d undergone.
    Dressed in blue overalls, Jürgen was a slight man, not much taller than Will. His blond hair was still damp from his own decontamination procedure, his long fringe hanging lankly in front of his blue eyes. He now brushed it to one side self-consciously. ‘I hope your skin isn’t too sore after all the washing,’ he said, smelling the back of his hand. He indicated a rack of what resembled fire extinguishers by the base of the wall, but they were painted green with German lettering on them. ‘The showers you’ve just had contain germicide, same as in those tanks. It’s an added precaution against the virus, but it can cause a skin reaction.’
    â€˜Yes, Elliott noticed I had a rash,’ Will muttered, giving her a pointed look.
    Trying her best not to smile, Elliott asked, ‘So what do we do now?’
    â€˜Werner’s waiting for us in the laboratory. Please come this way,’ Jürgen said, turning on his heels.
    As they set off down the corridor, Karl ran up and threw his arms around his father, hiding his face against him. With his fair locks, the child resembled his father, although he had dark smudges under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for a while. Still with his face pressed against his father, he was sneaking the occasional look at Will and Elliott.
    â€˜Hi,’ Will said, but the boy didn’t reply.
    Jürgen began to walk slowly, his son still hanging on to him. ‘Karl doesn’t speak. In fact, he hasn’t said a single word since the day of the plague. You see my wife, his mother, didn’t make it into this shelter in time. We know she was on the way here … but maybe the invaders picked her up for more brainwashing. They were in the habit of doing that to anyone who appeared to be in a hurry.’
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ Will mumbled.
    Jürgen continued to walk slowly, his voice unsteady at the memory. ‘Anyway, we couldn’t wait for her any longer. We had no choice. We had to close the main door … or we’d have been overwhelmed by all the other people in here.’
    â€˜You said brainwashed ? You mean the Styx Darklit her?’ Elliott asked gently.
    â€˜Darklit?’ Jürgen said, repeating the unfamiliar word. ‘With the purple light?’ He squinted and pretended to shield his face from a bright light. ‘Yes, we all had that. The people you call the Styx went through the city quarter by quarter, forcing us out of the buildings. Then they made us look at the purple lights, even Karl here.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair.
    Will exchanged a glance with Elliott, who was frowning.
    â€˜That’s not good news. We need to deal with whatever they’ve implanted in you,’ she said, putting into words precisely what Will was thinking.
    â€˜You can do that?’ Jürgen asked. ‘How? And why?’
    â€˜I’ve got a piece of kit in my Bergen that was developed to neutralise the Dark Light,’ Will replied, referring to the Purger. ‘What they put in your head might be dangerous for you, or anyone with you. I was programmed to chuck myself off anything high enough to kill me.’
    â€˜I see,’ Jürgen said with a nod. ‘Then we should deal with that later, but first there’s a more pressing matter to address.’ He steered Will and Elliott into a room crammed with medical equipment. A man looked up from his microscope. ‘ Guten Tag, ’ he said.
    â€˜English, Werner, you need to speak in English,’ Jürgen reminded him.
    Although Werner had his brother’s blue eyes and similar features, he was taller and far thinner. He was obviously the elder of the two, his blond hair very patchy on his