fLUX Runners
By:
William Joseph Roberts
Contents
pROLOGUE
cHAPTER 1
cHAPTER 2
cHAPTER 3
cHAPTER 4
cHAPTER 5
cHAPTER 6
cHAPTER 7
cHAPTER 8
cHAPTER 9
cHAPTER 10
cHAPTER 11
cHAPTER 12
cHAPTER 13
cHAPTER 14
cHAPTER 15
cHAPTER 16
cHAPTER 17
cHAPTER 18
cHAPTER 19
cHAPTER 20
cHAPTER 21
cHAPTER 22
cHAPTER 23
cHAPTER 24
cHAPTER 25
cHAPTER 26
cHAPTER 27
cHAPTER 28
cHAPTER 29
cHAPTER 30
cHAPTER 31
cHAPTER 32
cHAPTER 33
cHAPTER 34
cHAPTER 35
cHAPTER 36
cHAPTER 37
cHAPTER 38
cHAPTER 39
cHAPTER 40
cHAPTER 41
cHAPTER 42
cHAPTER 43
cHAPTER 44
cHAPTER 45
cHAPTER 46
cHAPTER 47
cHAPTER 48
cHAPTER 49
cHAPTER 50
cHAPTER 51
cHAPTER 52
cHAPTER 53
cHAPTER 54
cHAPTER 55
cHAPTER 56
cHAPTER 57
cHAPTER 58
cHAPTER 59
cHAPTER 60
ePILOGUE
Copyright © 2019 by William Joseph Roberts
dEDICATION:
aUTHORS nOTE
pROLOGUE
Bolton Street
South Boston, Massachusetts, USA
October 5, 2178/ 1942 hrs local time
M isty rain drifted down from the dark October sky. The scent of urine mingled strangely with the acrid smoke that rose from a burn barrel at the end of the South Boston alleyway.
“Note to self,” Doug mumbled. “Do not let Lizz talk you into picking up new recruits at the start of winter when you live in an underground bunker in the desert.” Frosty breath escaped his cupped hands as he blew warm air into them. Shifting his weight, he leaned against the opposite side of the doorway. He produced a small silver case from his black leather trench coat. Retrieving a cigarette from the case, he lit it, took a long draw and let the thick white smoke roll from his mouth, inhaling it into his nostrils. He slicked back the dampened strands of iron black hair, wringing out his ponytail in one smooth motion.
Angry squeaks drew his attention to the dumpster on the opposite side of the alley. He watched as a small family of rats emerged from behind the bin. They chittered and bicker over a half-eaten slice of pizza that the largest of the black rats had freed from the rotting dumpster.
A figure stopped at the far end of the alley, along Bolton Street. He could see that she was an Asian woman in an overcoat and bowler hat of all things. She pulled up the left sleeve of her coat and tapped at her forearm. The light from her Subdermal Aethernet Personal Portal illuminated her young face. She slid her finger across the screen of her SAPP, shutting off the device, then pulled her sleeve down and continued into the alley.
Doug stepped out of the doorway and into view. He looked up, making sure to stay under the awning that covered the entrance.
“There were three ravens sat on a tree,” Doug said. He took another long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke out slowly through his nose.
The young woman stopped in mid-stride. She warily looked over her shoulder toward Bolton Street, then back to Doug.
“They were as black as they might be,” she said.
“Think you have what it takes to be a pioneer?” Doug stepped into the street, his hands extended to his sides, palms open.
“I do, but it would have been nice if Uncle Danny could have told me more.”
“There are reasons for that and why we’re meeting like this,” Doug said, motioning to the cold dark alley that surrounded them. He took one last drag from his cigarette then field stripped the filter. The red glowing ember of burning tobacco hissed against the damp pavement.
“Before you agree to anything, you deserve to know what you are getting yourself into. To start with, there is no guarantee that you can come back to Earth any time soon. The Independent Alliance and the Martian Reich have both issued bounties for all known crew and ships. More than a few people would turn in their grandmothers for less coin, so we have to be careful.
“Careful from what, exactly?” She winced, taking a step away from Doug. “Are you running guns or drugs or people? I love my Uncle Danny, but if that’s the sort of thing that he’s gotten wrapped up in, then I want no part of it.”
Doug laughed under his breath. “No, it’s nothing like that, I promise you. But we’re still enemies of the state.”
She nervously rocked back on her heels. “Well, go on already. I’m listening.”
Doug thought for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Do you know why we listen to two-hundred-year-old music or watch ancient videos?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s because it costs entirely too much for any regular or sane person to access any of the latest media.”
“It isn’t just a matter of cost,” Doug said. “It’s a matter of privilege. At least on Earth, it is. You have to be given permission by the I.A. before you can even pay for the privilege to watch or listen to their brainwashing dribble. We have what we have only because someone way back in the day had saved everything in the public domain and kept it safe for the decades that followed. What do you know about the war and the Hell years?”
She tilted her head with a look of odd consideration on her face. “That the world went to shit, but that’s really about it. They don’t teach history in school. We are too busy training in our assigned job fields.”
Doug grunted a laugh. “That’s because they don’t want you to know the truth. They don’t really like anyone who can think for themselves, either. They want mindless drones to do their bidding. See, about a hundred years ago after the world went to shit and the hell years were over, the I.A. formed from the scraps that remained of the old United Nations. Somehow, they became the overseers of the newly formed powers on Earth. The American Confederation, The Australian Peoples Republic, and The New Britannia Empire. Eventually, they colonized the solar system and controlled everything, until the people of Luna and Mars revolted. Since then they have taken direct control of everything that they could. World media, corporations, even farms have been absorbed into the conglomerate that is the I.A. Not everything, mind you, but most things are directly controlled by them. There are a few independent operators out there besides us, but they are dwindling away.”
“Why don’t the people just revolt like the other colonies and overthrow them?”
“Because mankind as a species is inherently lazy and on the whole, they would rather be told what to do and how to live their lives.”
“And exactly what does any of that have to do with me joining you and my Uncle in becoming fugitives from the law?”
Doug smiled. “We basically told the I.A. to go fuck themselves and started our own colony. We are completely independent of any government and have already established a few powerful allies should the I.A. or the Reich decides to come after us. Your uncle is one of our lead engineers that we have working on our mining operations in system. You’d be proud of him and the work he’s done for us.” He retrieved another cigarette and lit it.
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“And you? She crossed her arms impatiently. “Who are you exactly?”
“I’m the second in command, only to our Overseer, Lizz.”
“That still doesn’t tell me who you are,” she said in a perturbed tone.
“My name is Captain Douglas Rackham. I see to the day to day operations of the colony.”
“How do I know that Uncle Danny sent you? How do I know that I can trust you? For all I know you could just be some creep that learned about this meeting just so you could take advantage of a helpless girl.”
“Well, first off, I know you aren’t helpless. Danny has told me how he trained you to box. Second, you could ask him that question yourself if you wanted to.”
“Wait? Uncle Danny is here?”
“Yeah, just down the street,” Doug said as he turned away from her and started walking down the alley. “It’ll only take about twenty minutes to get there from here.”
She ran, catching up and walking alongside Doug. “Okay…,” she said with a tone of nervous curiosity. “So how exactly did my uncle get wrapped up with you and running from the law?”
“Well, you see. That’s a bit of an interesting story, depending on how far back you go. Where should I start?”
“At the beginning,” She said.
“Fair enough,” Doug said. He smiled at the young woman, then took a deep breath as they continued down the alley. “Once upon a time…”
Peachtree Street
Atlanta, Georgia, USA
April 13, 2168 / 2112 hrs local time
“I
must be bat shit crazy to have followed you back here.” Krista shifted her weight from foot to foot, warming her hands over a rusted burn barrel. “Dammit, Doug. I’m cold, I’m hungry and I just wanna go to sleep.” She coughed from the acrid smoke that wafted into her face. “And, oh my God, I wish they would shut off that music.” She flipped her raven hair with twist of her head then brushed away a loose strand that clung to the side of her nose. The orange glow of firelight from the barrel flickered, casting an eerie shadow across her strong Native American features.
The distant thump of heavy bass from a nearby club reverberated over the pavement. “Why are we even back here? I thought we had left Atlanta for good. You said no looking back. Your buddy Max won’t take kindly to finding you back on his turf since you turned your back on the crew.”
“We did and I did say that, but things change.” Doug leaned against the brick wall of the ancient playhouse and lit a cigarette. He closely watched the eastern entrance of the old midtown Emory hospital. “You see the old hospital over there?”
“Yeah. It’s an old hospital. So what,” Krista grumped.
“See, it was abandoned over a century ago and became a beacon to refugees after the world fell apart and before the hell years began. It served as the original home base for the American Confederation. A new country literally formed in that building in the years following the war. Once the capital of the newly formed American Confederation moved to Wichita Falls, Texas, the old hospital took on a new life and became a community all in itself. Some of the original guards stayed in Atlanta and turned it into low rent housing that included protection from the assholes outside. Merchants, craftsman and the like set up shops in the lobby and office areas while the old hospital rooms became apartments. Its layout and construction made for an easily defendable community complex, all in all.”
“And what exactly does any of that have to do with us coming back to Atlanta and me freezing my ass off?”
“You insisted on coming with me, so I don’t want to hear it.”
“It was a better option than staying with those weirdos in Cartersville while you committed suicide,” Krista huffed.
Doug looked back over his shoulder and down the alley, then shrugged at Krista. “You could have handled them,” he mused.
“Well, this seemed the better option at the time.”
“One of the traders that came up to the compound in Cartersville last week kept going on about this narcissist from South America that showed up. He said the guy came up from Florida and insisted that Max add more mirrors around the Emory complex.”
“Sounds like an asshat to me,” Krista said.
“Oh, he is,” Doug laughed. “Trust me. Samuka is a complete asshat, self-absorbed, and a narcissist to the extreme. But he’s also the type of person that could sell ice to Eskimos.”
“Can you get to the point already?”
“Samuka is loaded and he owes me big time. He may be an asshat, but he’s an honorable asshat. He’d rather pay up than to have the tiniest amount of unfinished business that could tarnish his reputation. With what he owes me, we could go west to Denver maybe and get a fresh start.”
“Let go of me,” a voice shouted from down the street.
Doug stepped to the corner of the building and peeked out from the alley. “That doesn’t look good.”
“What?”
“There’s this lady being harassed by a couple of guys down at the corner by the club. She can’t be from around here. The jacket she’s wearing looks way too expensive for anyone on this side of town.”
Krista tucked her hands under her arms and huddled against Doug’s side. She peered out from the alley. “Yup, sure looks like it to me. I used to have a coat just like that. Oh my God, it was so warm, too. Sucks to be her.” She snuggled her head against his side.
He pulled Krista away from his side and glanced down at her with an unsure look.
“What?” Krista said defensively. “Mommy and Daddy always bought me anything that I ever wanted. I told you before they were loaded from their shares in the casinos up north.”
Doug shook his head. He smiled at his bedraggled companion. “The life you lead now must be like night and day.” He took a step forward but stopped abruptly, jerked backward as Krista latched onto his arm.
“Doug, no. It’s not our business. There’s no telling what those guys might do. Besides, it took disappearing to get away from the street crew. Do you really want to chance Max catching wind that we’re back in town before you can talk to this Samuka guy?”
“I can’t stand by and do nothing. It just isn’t right,” he said as he brushed her away and stepped out of the alley.
“Dammit Doug,” she forcefully whispered down the street after him. “You’d better not go and get yourself killed and leave me all alone out here. I swear I’ll never talk to you again if you do.”
Doug nonchalantly made his way toward the street corner, keeping his eyes averted as he approached. Two large men laughed and made lude comments toward the woman as they shoved her about. They passed her back and forth between them.
“You think we should sell her? She looks healthy enough,” the larger of the two men said. “She’s pretty, but she doesn’t look like the type that Max would want.” He snapped his fingers in a moment of inspiration. “We could take her to Whitaker and his crew. I bet they’d take her off our hands.”
“Would be easier to just strip her and toss the body,” the other man said. “Less bullshit to deal with.
“You’ll regret this if you don’t let me go,” the woman growled. She struggled against the larger man’s grip.
The larger of the two men let out a deep, bass-filled laugh. “I bet this one just got herself turned around and doesn’t even know where she is.”
“Ya know, I bet you’re right,” the other man said with a snap of his fingers. “I bet that’s exactly what she’s doing on this side of town.” He looked her up and down, hungrily licking his lips. “It would be our civic duty to help her find her way. There are a lot of unscrupulous people on this side of town,” he said sarcastically.
“It is such a wonderful sight to see citizens of this wonderful city taking an interest in the elderly,” Doug said as he walked past the scene.
“Elderly?” The woman squeaked. Her blonde curls flew outward as she snapped a scowl in Doug’s direction.
Doug leveled the barrel o
f his antique Judge revolver at the man who held the woman. He cocked the hammer back. “How about I play, boy scout and take her off your hands?”
The two men calmly raised their hands, releasing the woman.
“How about we leave these two gentlemen to their evening?” Doug nodded for her to join him. She slipped behind him; her hand pressed against the back of his shoulder. He took a step backward, “I do hope that you gentlemen enjoy the rest of your evening. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He continued to back away slowly, the revolver aimed at the larger of the two men.
“She’s probably a dead lay anyways,” the smaller of the two men shouted.
“Yeah, all them rich white girls are the same,” the larger man added.
“We’d better not see your mug out on the peach again, punk.”
Doug decocked the revolver and tucked it into a pocket. “Are you okay,” he asked. He turned; taking her hand he quickly led her back to the alley.
“Are you freaking crazy,” Krista berated.
“Thank you so much,” the woman interrupted in a thick Australian accent.
“My pleasure,” Doug replied.
“Your pleasure my ass!” Krista slapped him across the arm. “You could have got yourself killed and left me all alone out here. Then where would I be? Hu?” She slapped him again.
Doug’s jaw muscles flexed. He stared at Krista through narrowed slits. “Could you really just stand by and do nothing, knowing what they were about to do to her? Would you want me to leave you to the same kind of fate?”
“No, not really,” she reluctantly admitted.
“Thank you,” he said to Krista. “Come on, let’s get out of here just in case those guys change their minds about letting us escape.”
Doug hurriedly led them down the alley three blocks over to Currier Street. They arrived at a small diner that was set in the corner of a partially crumbled building. The back half of which had collapsed, littering the street with bricks and debris. A bell jingled as Doug opened the door to the small diner for Krista and the other woman. They immediately slid into the first open booth just inside the entrance of the building.
“What’ll it be,” a waitress said in a gruff tone as she approached. She produced an order pad and pen from her apron and began to scribble as she arrived at the table. She looked up from her pad at Doug and immediately curled her nose with disgust. She examined their worn and filthy appearance then turned to the well-dressed woman. “Is everything alright ma'am?”
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