Shadow Sun Survival: Shadow Sun Book One

by Dave Willmarth

  After Fuzzy took care of business – apparently bears did it in the woods and in parking lots – he fed the growing cub a couple of fish from the day before. While his pet scarfed down the fatty protein, he surveyed the parking lot. There was no sign of canids or anything else. If he knew how to hotwire a vehicle, he could claim a whole fleet for his people. There was a brand new Camaro in the lot that caught his eye. Red with the black dual stripes up the hood and over the top.

  Taking the satiated bear back inside and locking the doors, he rejoined Helen in their little recliner sitting area. She’d set some snacks and water out on the coffee table. “Are you ready to try and clear this place?” She smiled at him.

  “Nope. But we need to get it done. I didn’t hear anything at all last night, did you?”

  “Just you and Fuzzy snoring.” She tilted her head back and fake-snored loudly. “I think if anything was living in here, you two would have drawn it to us.”

  Allistor craned his neck around a bookcase to get a look at the gate. “Nothing out there. Maybe we’re good. Still, there could be something lurking in the back halls. These malls are full of those.”

  Finishing their meal, they began to gear up. Allistor was just lowering his shotgun strap over his shoulder when something struck him. He started laughing. “Oh, man.”

  Helen paused in tying her boots and looked up. “What’s so funny?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe nothing, hold on a second.” He pulled up his interface and selected the Stronghold tab. There it was, the option to claim Frontier Mall as a Stronghold, with a green button ready to go.

  “Looks like we can save ourselves the trouble. The system says I can claim this place right now. Which means it’s clear. I just remembered the other night when I went to claim the ranger cabin as an Outpost, the system blocked me, saying there were other “occupants” already there. We found you, and a couple rats. I’m going to assume the system meant you.”

  “So if the system’s ready to let you claim this place, we’re the only ones here. Nice!” She held out a fist for him to bump. “But what about the missile bunker?”

  Allistor nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I need to read some more, try to find out if there is anything stopping me from having two Strongholds in a city. Or within some particular geographic radius.” He stopped talking and did some reading.

  Helen began thinking out loud. “This place would make a good Stronghold, with all the stuff in here we can forage. And there’s plenty of space. Maybe we don’t need the bunkers.”

  Allistor stopped reading to answer. “Well, I do want the bunkers, and for more than one reason. I mean, how awesome would it be to have a secure underground facility with our own nuclear missiles! But also, if we don’t claim them, how do we know some trigger-happy psychos won’t claim the base and nuke us all?”

  “And you’re not a trigger-happy psycho?” She elbowed him in the ribs gently.

  “Ha! Would I know if I was?” His attention shifted to a word that had appeared on his interface as he’d been reading. “One sec; I want to check something.”

  He shifted his focus from the Stronghold tab to one that read Citadel. In Allistor’s mind, a Citadel was a small town encircled by a wall that included a few score or more shops, homes, a couple taverns, smithy, etc. If he could declare this huge mall a Citadel, then maybe he could also still claim the missile base as a Stronghold.

  But when he tried to complete the transaction to claim the mall as a Citadel, a message appeared.

  While this structure meets the size and available resource requirements for a Citadel, and your title of Baron entitles you to claim Citadels, you do not have the required population to staff and defend a Citadel at this location at this time.

  He relayed this information to Helen, adding, “I think maybe we should go ahead and make this a Stronghold, and just assume that we can upgrade it later when we’ve found more survivors.”

  “And hope that you can also claim the missile base. I’m with ya. Let’s do this.” Helen moved to stand in front of the gate leading to the mall.

  Allistor joined her, Fuzzy right next to him, still gripping the Fibble doll. Allistor pulled up the Stronghold interface and pushed the green button.

  This time the golden light and chimes that surrounded them lasted much longer. When the light faded, Allistor blinked his eyes and looked around.

  The first thing he noticed was that the pull-down gate in front of them had been replaced with double metal doors. The opening was smaller - only about eight feet wide now. Looking around, he noted that all the glass doors had similarly been replaced with swinging gates. All metal-framed drywall walls had become stone.

  The fake acoustic ceiling tiles were gone, and the ceiling soared up twenty feet, with high window slits providing natural light to the former sales floor area. Exposed beams and ducts crossed the space above.

  The three of them (four if you counted Fibble) walked back toward the stock room. All of the walls creating the small offices had been re-arranged, forming into a large sleeping quarter with its own bath, an attached study, and large kitchen area with two long dining tables. The stock room had been converted to a barracks, rows of stone beds with a chest at the foot of each one, and a large communal bathroom at the back. And the roll-up loading dock door had become a wide metal door that rolled to one side like a barn door.

  Fuzzy sniffed around a bit, then lost interest. With a whip of his head, he tossed his green buddy up into the air, then proceeded to chase it, pouncing on the slobber-soaked thing like a kitten before rolling onto his back and dropping it on his belly. All four feet pawed slowly at the air as if he were half-heartedly fending off an attacker.

  Chuckling, Helen said, “I can’t tell if he thinks he’s a dog or a cat. Never seen a bear behave like he does.”

  Allistor shrugged. “It might be something the system is doing. He seems to… understand what we say. At least on a basic level.”

  A little more exploration revealed that the two public restrooms off the main floor area had each become a full bath with shower and tub. The dressing rooms had combined into small guest quarters, one by the men’s’ and one by the ladies’, each one attached to one of the bathrooms. The small stock room behind what had been the shoe department was now a conference room with a long table and chairs and a wet bar at one end.

  They exited the area and moved out into the mall, Fuzzy and Fibble trotting alongside them. The main section of the mall had been two levels of shops along either side. About halfway down the main wing stood a burbling fountain with what had previously been fake greenery. Now there was lush grass in a ten-foot radius around the fountain, with several tropical ferns and small trees. Directly above, the extensive skylights had remained, allowing the sun to shine down upon the entire walkway.

  Each of the old shops on either side of the main hall remained in roughly the same footprint. Glass storefronts had been reduced to smaller windows with shutters, and roll-up chain gates were now solid-looking wooden doors. The shops on the upper promenade had changed more significantly. Now there were two rows of what looked like residential units – single windows and single doors spaced evenly apart approximately every forty feet.

  The food court had been turned into a wide open-air dining hall with a commercial kitchen behind it. They looked as if they could serve a small army. As they walked, they found one of the bigger anchor stores had been converted to a two-story crafting hall, and another appeared to be a tavern with sleeping rooms upstairs. The movie theater had remained as it was, hundreds of seats facing a stage with a huge screen.

  The largest of the big box stores, located at the other end of the main wing, had become a warehouse, and upon entering they found row after row of large boxes and crates along the left side. The remainder of the space was filled with high shelves stacked to the ceiling with all of the merchandise from the repurposed stores. They even appeared to have been neatly organized by the System – clothes arranged from
undergarments to cold weather coats, electronics and components, household goods like pots and pans, even novelty items from a gift store for adults.

  Fuzzy’s nose led him directly to some shelves filled with gift basket items like summer sausages and fancy cheeses, vacuum-wrapped to preserve them. Allistor and Helen snagged several of these each, Helen taking pity on the bear cub and opening a turkey sausage for him. The bear promptly forsook his little green buddy, dropping him to the floor to be ignored while he noisily consumed the treat. Allistor also grabbed a couple boxes of fancy chocolates, intending to give one to Amanda, the other to Chloe. Helen helped herself to a large jar of macadamia nuts.

  When they had finished a complete circuit of the new Stronghold, they returned to the fountain and sat on its wall. Allistor had grown quiet as they walked, and Helen simply waited for him to share what was on his mind.

  Eventually, he said, “We need people. I mean, good people that we can trust to keep this place safe. I’m thinking maybe we should split up the band back at the Warren, put a few of our original group here, and at other Strongholds. Maybe bring Luther here, or send him back to his original Stronghold. But what we really need is to find more survivors.”

  “Ones that aren’t trigger-happy psychos?” Helen smirked at him.

  “Hah! Yes, that would be ideal.” He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “How’d you like to run this place? I mean, the mall was your idea, to begin with. It never would have occurred to me to pick this place. I’d have gone with the police station or city hall or something.”

  She thought about it for a while. “I’d prefer to go back and man the ranger cabin outpost. But if you need me here for a while, I’m okay with that. As long as we find enough people to at least partially fill this place. I’d be creeped out here all alone.”

  “Well, let’s grab the truck and head out to explore the city. Maybe we can find survivors here? I mean, there had to have been something like fifty thousand people living here, right?”

  “A little more, I think. But yes, we should be able to find somebody, I think. Unless they all locked themselves down in the bunkers.” Helen pointed in the general direction of the missile base.

  They exited the mall, finding the wall outside had encompassed the entire land area belonging to the mall. That included the parking lot, stormwater pond, and the grassy areas scattered about the edges. The space was huge! The walls were twenty feet high, with ramps on the back side every few hundred feet. The two massive metal doors that were the only exit Allistor could see swung open as he watched.

  Back in the truck, Allistor was driving this time. Helen was literally riding shotgun in the passenger seat, her weapon in her lap as they exited the gate and she scanned their surroundings for threats or signs of life. Fuzzy snored in the back seat, his snout resting atop the green doll between his paws.

  Allistor was cruising through the airport, the closest major landmark to the mall. His reasoning being that if he were a survivor here, he’d want a location with a view of the area. The control tower at the airport would show them the entire city. There were no skyscrapers in the city – the tallest buildings being about ten stories high. Most of downtown was low to the ground, the whole city seeming to hunker down against the threat of harsh winter weather that came every year.

  A quick stop at the tower turned out to pay off nicely. They spotted movement in two different areas of town. To the south, there was a group of people moving through a neighborhood foraging. They had a horse-drawn wagon that was just beginning to be filled. “Smart,” Allistor commented. “Horses make much less noise than engines, and they don’t need gas. I should have thought of that.”

  Helen just nodded, using a pair of binoculars she’d grabbed from one of the controllers’ stations to scan the city. She focused in on a faint pillar of smoke. “Looks like a cooking fire over there.” She pointed, and Allistor followed, raising his own binoculars that he’d snagged from the gun shop.

  Sure enough, there was a trail of smoke so faint he probably would have missed it. It was rising from a warehouse district to the southwest of them. Other buildings blocked their view of the street, and he didn’t see any movement atop any of the roofs. “How’d you spot that?”

  She lowered her glasses and smirked. “Park ranger, remember? I’ve spent hundreds of hours atop observation towers looking for fires.”

  “Oh, right.” Allistor blushed slightly, feeling foolish. “So which place do you want to go first?”

  Helen didn’t even think about it. “The foragers. If it were me, I’d much rather have a trigger-happy psycho and his sexy sidekick approach me while I’m out moving around and alert, than have him approach my home base.”

  Allistor snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly call Fuzzy sexy…” He ducked as she swatted at his head. “But I agree about the foragers. Let’s head their way. Make plenty of noise when we get close, so as not to surprise them. Maybe keep the ferocious bear out of sight at first.”

  Back in the truck, they wound their way through the mostly clear city streets toward the neighborhood where the foragers were operating. When Helen said they were within a few blocks, Allistor gave the truck’s horn a friendly double-toot to alert the nearby survivors of their presence. He drove slowly, turning a corner to find the horse and cart about halfway down the block in front of them. None of the people they’d seen before were in sight.

  Allistor stopped the truck and turned off the engine. Dropping the keys into his ring, he exited the vehicle. His shotgun slung on his back, he held his hands high and motioned for Helen to do the same. Stepping forward so that he could be clearly seen, he called out. “Hey, guys! I’m Allistor, and this is Helen. We come in peace, and uhh… take me to your leader?”

  Helen snorted at the awkward greeting. “My hero.”

  “You some kind of wise-ass, boy?” A deep voice echoed out from behind a building to their left. Both heads turned in that direction. A large man in a flannel shirt stepped out, rifle raised to his shoulder and pointed at Allistor.

  Allistor kept his hands up, his pulse racing now as he had second thoughts about approaching these people. “No, sir! I was just trying to be friendly. If it were me, I’d be suspicious of anyone who approached me like this. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit.”

  The man stared at him over the rifle’s sights, not saying a word. Allistor’s mind noted there was no scope mounted on the weapon. Likely the man was either a very good shot or didn’t know much about rifles. “As I said, I’m Allistor. What’s your name?”

  After a moment of glaring, the man said, “Dean.” His thick beard barely moved as he spoke.

  Allistor waited several seconds for him to say more, but it seemed that was all the information forthcoming. Helen actually chuckled at Allistor’s discomfort.

  “Nice to meet you, Dean,” she called out. “I’m Helen. Park ranger up at Medicine Bow. Allistor here found me and saved my life a few days ago. He’s a good guy.”

  Dean’s rifle barrel lowered slightly as he stood straighter. He looked from Helen to Allistor. “What do you want here?”

  Allistor lowered his hands slightly, then the rest of the way when he received a nod from Dean. “I’m looking for you, actually. I mean, not you specifically, but survivors. I just established a Stronghold nearby. A safe place to sleep, eat, and live. Now I’m looking for survivors to fill it.”

  Dean looked at him like he was drunk or slightly stupid. “What? A stronghold?”

  Allistor sighed. “How much do you all know about the way the world works now?”

  At this, Dean’s head jerked to the left and his gaze went to someone across the street that Allistor couldn’t see. A moment later another voice rang out, this one female. “We know enough to get by! Been doing just fine so far.” She sounded young, and a little defensive.

  “Alright, great! The more you know, the easier life will be over this coming year. My group and I have learned a great deal these last few weeks. I’d be happy
to share what we’ve learned, if you’re willing to sit and talk for a while?”

  Just then, Fuzzy woke up and moved around in the back seat of the truck. Dean’s rifle shot back up and his finger moved to the trigger. “Who else is here with you?” he growled, instantly suspicious.

  “Nobody! I mean, no other person. That’s Fuzzy. My bear.” Allistor winced at how stupid that sounded when he said it out loud. “My companion. That’s part of what I can share with you.”

  “He’s adorable!” the female voice was clearer as she stepped out from behind a house. She was short, maybe 5’3” with long blonde hair and large brown eyes. Allistor guessed she was in her late teens. “You said his name is Fuzzy?”

  “Annie! I told you to stay behind cover!” Dean shouted without taking the gun’s sights off Allistor’s chest.

  “Sorry, Dean. But I don’t think they mean us any harm. They didn’t exactly try to sneak up on us.” The girl began to walk forward. She held a Glock in her right hand, but it was pointed at the ground as she walked. “In case you didn’t hear, my name is Annie. Is it safe to approach Fuzzy?”

  Helen nodded at her. “You run the risk of getting drooled on. And I wouldn’t try and take the green doll from him. He’s very attached to it.” She stepped back to the truck slowly, opening the door so Fuzzy could hop out. The bear instantly trotted forward to sniff at the new human.

  “Oh, look at him! I want to hug him!” She cried as she bent to let him sniff her hand. Which he did, sitting on his rump and looking up at her expectantly.

  Helen said, “Here, give him this,” and tossed a piece of snake meat to the girl, who deftly caught it with one hand. She then held it out on the flat of her palm, and Fuzzy gently took it from her.

  “Oh, I need one of these!” She giggled as the bear cub scarfed down the meat, making his usual nom, nom growly noises.

  Dean lowered his weapon again and stepped forward. “Annie, bears are wild animals. Sure, he’s real cute right now. But if he gets hungry enough, those claws could take your face off.”