by Rick Wood
Donny. Did he know how to work a gun?
He looked up, cast his eyes up and down his friend. Nothing registered. What was he even looking for?
A click.
A gun.
That’s it.
He looked to Donny’s hand. There were four of them, all skewed, dancing around him, taunting him. No gun.
He was sure he heard a click.
“Donny… Sadie…”
Sadie rushed over.
“I heard…”
Someone was there. He was sure of it.
Was he sure of it?
He didn’t really know what was going on.
What had he heard?
There was a…
What was going on?
He tried to stand. Donny tried to support him. Sadie tried to support him. They failed. He stumbled. He took them with them.
His foot stepped on the net.
He was in the air before he knew it.
Was he flying?
No, he was hovering. He reached his arm out, felt for nearby. Donny was there. He could see him. His face. So stern. Sadie was there. She was screaming, she hated it.
“Sadie,” Gus prompted, willing her to shush, which she did.
He tried to kick. He couldn’t. He’d forgotten. He looked up and his stump was thrashing about.
His hands grabbed the net.
How did they end up there?
A prompt flashback. A few hours ago. Or was it days? Donny. He said he knew where they were going. He said he knew where it was. Where what was?
Where had Donny taken them?
Before Gus could entertain the thought anymore, it faded from his mind like steam into air.
He closed his eyes for longer than he expected. Closed them. Opened them.
A gun was pointing at them from below.
“Who the fuck are you?” demanded the person behind it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
She wasn’t the kind of woman who was like fire – Desert was fire.
And not just your flickering candle waving easily in the wind, either.
She was raging flames, she was burning amber, she was fire that spread and engulfed everything within its path. Her anger would lash out at you, licking your feet with the scorching heat of wrathful flames. Her passion would entice you into its growing torch as its smoke paraded into the sky. And her tenacity; oh, her tenacity. It was the lava the flames created. Pure, boastful, crackling, whipping, fiery lava that left ashes in its wake.
“I asked you a question,” she said, exuding dominance, showing nothing but her boss-like attitude you either came to respect or fear.
The girl – (woman?) – hissed at her. Reached its hand through the net, too far into the sky to be able to reach but reaching nonetheless.
Desert sighed.
“I am one itchy trigger finger away from shooting the shit out of you unless you answer my question,” Desert continued, aiming her semi-automatic.
“It’s okay,” the one-legged man said to the girl. “She’s just being cautious, it’s okay.”
“Talk to me, or I’ll shoot her in the face.”
“How about you just cool it, yeah?” the man blurted out. “Just cool it.”
Desert looked to the other man, his stoic expression unfaltering.
“What’s with him?” Desert demanded.
“He – we – we’ve been through a lot, okay. It’s – could you just let us down from this?”
“I’m thinking not.”
Gus’s hand moved.
“Keep your hand in the air!” Desert shouted. “So much as scrape a finger on a pistol and I won’t be taking any chances.”
“Fine, fine – what d’you want to know?”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Gus Harvey, this is Sadie, and this is Donny Jevon.”
“Okay, Gus. How d’you lot know each other?”
“It’s… It’s kind of a long story.”
“Yeah, well, you better tell it. ‘Cause this whole picture, the three of you together, it – it just don’t fit. And when something don’t fit…”
“All right, all right.”
Desert waited.
Gus rubbed his head, closed his eyes, kept them closed a prolonged moment, opened them, shut them again.
“Well?”
“Just – just give me a minute. I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Why?”
“You see this?” Gus indicated his leg. “Yeah? You see this? This is a recent thing, lady. This got done to me, and I’ve not had any of the shit they pumped into me, and without the shit they pumped into me, I’m getting kinda woozy, so if you’d just–”
“Who’s they?”
“What?”
“You keep saying they. Who is they? Who did this to you?”
Gus sighed.
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Pretty sure I would.”
“You heard of a dickhead named Eugene Squire?”
Desert’s finger hovering over the trigger lapsed its concentration for a heartbeat. A familiar rage grew inside of her, starting with the acidity of her stomach, lifting through her thrashing heart, and ending in her tightened throat. She couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe?
That name.
That damn name.
“Yeah. Yeah, I heard of him.”
“He did this to me. Well – not himself directly.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Thought you might not.”
“What else did he do?”
“We’ve been trapped in his compound, he’s – just look at the state of us.”
Desert looked at the other two. Being closer to the girl’s face, finally having a look at it, revealed bruises that only came from torture. Scabs, wounds, tears. And worse; scars the girl probably hadn’t even made sense of yet appeared in her eyes. A look so familiar.
The other man’s face wasn’t so readable. His eyes gave nothing away. His expression was deadened. He just looked back at her with a severe impartiality. A neglectful absence of caring.
Him, she wasn’t so sure about.
“And who are you?” the man called Gus asked.
She wondered whether she should trust them.
Unfortunately, people to trust didn’t come along too often these days.
“My name is Desert,” she declared.
Then she aimed her gun at the girl’s head.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Desert? I assume that’s a code name?”
Just keep her talking.
That’s all Gus could think to do.
Keep her talking.
This was about survival. Short-term living. Staying alive. Somehow finding a way to make it through the next few hours. Then the next few hours would come after that, and the next after that, and the next after that. Eventually, hours could turn into days, maybe even weeks, months, years.
But for now, the one who called herself Desert was aiming her gun at Sadie’s head, and Gus didn’t like it.
“It’s fine,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me your real name. Just – just…”
Just what, Gus?
He had no idea what to say. How could he reason with her? If it were he in her predicament, would he take any chances? Or would he shoot the three weirdos who’d stumbled across his patch?
His eyes closed.
For too long.
He could feel himself slipping away. He had a few fingers keeping a very loose grip on consciousness, and he was slipping, sliding off, with no one to catch him.
He had to keep her talking. Had to do something.
“Please, Eugene Squire almost killed us. Don’t be the same as him.”
Desert’s arm relaxed.
That did it. Boy, that did it. Something on her face changed, something softened, if only momentarily. Her steely neutrality shifted, and Gus saw what trigger lay beneath.
“I am nothing like Eugene Squ
ire,” Desert spat. “And don’t you dare ever say that again.”
“If Eugene Squire is your enemy, then our enemy makes us a friend.”
Desert didn’t respond.
“Please, I…” He almost went again. Drooped. Faded in and out. Brought himself around. “I… I have no idea what I was saying.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“What?”
“Eugene Squire would want me dead. This is exactly the kind of thing–”
“Look at my leg!” Gus cried. “Seriously, look at my fucking leg! Look at what he did to my leg! It’s gone ’cause of him, why would I–”
A pain shot in the base of his stump.
He hadn’t felt pain there before. It was as if all the medication he’d been given at the compound was designed to numb it, and whilst his dizziness was the first price to pay, it was just the start.
Burning raced around the circumference of his knee. Then a stabbing sensation, like someone had sunk a knife in, then another, until his leg was full of their sharp edges, all sticking out of him, like a sadistic acupuncturist who used blades instead of needles. It hurt to holy hell.
Gus screamed out.
“Shut up, you’ll attract a horde.”
He bit his lip. Useless. He opened his mouth, cried out again. Moaned into the rope.
“Listen,” Gus said. “You are either going to have to shoot me or let me down, ’cause this–”
It hit him in another wave, surging all through his body this time; he could feel it pulsating, throbbing through him to the rhythm of his pulse.
His arms flung out to the side, clutching the rope, squeezing it tightly, tightly, tighter, biting it, keeping himself from screaming out.
He closed his eyes. Opened them. Everything was gone. A distant distortion. Impressions of shapes were there in blurs. Someone was speaking but it was as if they were underwater.
He screamed again.
Then he felt himself falling. He didn’t know how. Hell, he didn’t even know if it was real. It was like he was collapsing downwards through the sky.
Janet.
Laney.
I see you.
That wasn’t them. He knew it.
There was no afterlife.
But he saw them. Waving to him. Their faces turning to blood.
He was being carried. There were people around him. He felt them as he reached his arms out and grabbed them. He was then restrained.
Where was he again?
Janet. So far. In touching distance, yet however much he reached out for her, he could never brush his fingers down her soft cheek.
Laney was playing. She turned and said hello. Or did she? Gus didn’t hear her.
They disappeared.
They weren’t there. He knew they weren’t there.
He had no idea where he was anymore.
He didn’t even care.
And, on that final thought, his delirium ended and he fell completely unconscious.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The light overhead wasn’t buzzing. His legs weren’t fixed to a bed. An uncaring doctor wasn’t spoon-feeding him lumps.
This was the first time Gus had woken up from falling unconscious without laying in torment. It was a sealed room without windows, leading Gus to the logical conclusion that he was underground. If they had encroached on this woman’s home without noticing it, it must be.
He flexed his hands, looking at them. Wiggled his leg, wiggled his stump. How strange it was to wake up free from restrictions. It was like he was waking up in a bed for the first time ever.
“Good morning.”
Gus jumped, turned his head to see the woman sat beside him.
“We have a lot to talk about,” she stated.
“Where’s Sadie?” Gus demanded, gripping the side of the bed. “Where’s Donny?”
He scanned the room for a weapon.
“Relax, relax,” she urged him. “They are being fed. In fact, they’ve been fed three times. You know, tea, breakfast, and lunch.”
“That how long I’ve been out?”
“Yep.”
“I want to see them. I want to see they are okay.”
“Please, I’m not going to hurt you. If I was going to hurt you, why would I have wasted medical supplies on you?”
Gus looked around him. He was attached to a drip. The pain in his right thigh had gone, presumably from another dose of the right medication. What’s more, there was a flower in a vase in the corner of the room, and the pillow beneath him smelt like lavender.
He looked the woman over. Strange hair, but he liked it. It was individual. She was sat back, so relaxed, with a posture that didn’t say she didn’t care, yet still said she was chilled; her hand draped over the back of her chair and her foot resting on the knee of her other leg.
“What did you say your name is again?” Gus asked.
“Desert.”
“That’s not a name.”
Desert sighed.
“It is. Though I’ve had it for less than a year. I felt like I needed a change of name.”
“What’s your real name? Why are you pretending to–”
“Gus, Gus, please, relax. You’re fine, but stressing out ain’t going to do much for your body; you need rest.”
“I want to know–”
“And I’m here to tell you. I’m here to tell you everything. Just relax.”
Gus went to retaliate, then decided against it. She was probably right. It had been a hard few days. Hell, it had been a hard few months. Years, even. And this was the softest mattress he’d ever laid on. He should probably take advantage.
Desert sat forward, leaning toward him with her hands clasped together.
“My name used to be Lucy Sanders.”
“Lucy Sanders…”
“I used to work for Eugene Squire. I was a receptionist.”
“I couldn’t see you as a receptionist.”
“Yeah, I’ve changed a fair bit.” She chuckled. “But I was, suit and everything. Walked around with doormat written on my forehead. Then I found out what they were trying to do.”
She smiled a knowing smile that drew him in.
“I was there, Gus. At the beginning. I was there, I saw it.”
“What? You mean, you know how this all started?”
She nodded two large triumphant nods.
“Parliament was wiped out by the infected. I was the one who had to deliver the message to Eugene Squire, not just that they had died, but that he was next in line to be prime minister. He was about thirtieth in line, but that’s what it had come to. I was stupid not to realise – Eugene had engineered it all.”
“How?”
“General Boris Hayes. He’d released the strain when Parliament was in session and Eugene was on annual leave with his wife.”
“He has a wife?”
“Had a wife. He killed her in front of me.”
“Jesus…”
Desert took in a big, deep breath, then let it out. Something told Gus she wasn’t used to telling this story.
“So why did he do it?” Gus asked.
“He didn’t mean to create an infection, not at first. They spoke as they… Well, they tried to kill me. From what I gathered, they were trying to create something else, and the infection was just the catalyst. Something that had an ability to run faster, be stronger, but… When he accidentally engineered a virus, he used it to put himself in power, and give him an advantage over other countries.”
“Other countries?”
“That bombing on London… I don’t know yet, I’m basing this on assumptions. But I don’t think it was as simple as we think.”
“I was there. I was there when it was bombed. London was a mess.”
“It wasn’t bombed by us. We don’t know much, but we know that for sure.”
Gus tried to take this all in, but only fell further into a migraine. He looked around himself.
“So what is this place?”
&nb
sp; “An underground bunker used by the AGA. Well, it used to be.”
“The AGA?”
“The Anti-Government Alliance. The last line of defence against Eugene Squire. Except…”
“Except what?”
“I think you’d better take a look.”
Desert took a pair of crutches from behind her and offered them to him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gus marvelled at the vastness of the place. There was a large, open area that could be filled with tanks, armies, weapons, everything. Except it was empty.
It was a hollow excitement; such optimism, yet such absence.
This was such a great base, such a great resource – so where was this AGA? Why weren’t they using it?
“So. this AGA,” Gus said. “You it?”
Desert grinned. “That would be disappointing, wouldn’t it? Our only remaining defence, and it was just me?”
Gus watched her. She was so confident, so supreme, yet, at the same time, alluring. There was something about her that made you want to follow her.
“Let me introduce you to my crew.”
Desert opened a door and they entered a canteen. The tables were mostly empty, and there was nobody serving any food – but the central table was full.
Sadie and Donny sat on one side of the table. Upon seeing Gus, Sadie leapt to her feet, ran toward him and almost knocked him over with her embrace, squeezing him tight.
“Hey,” Gus managed.
Gus looked to Donny. They exchanged a look. Donny nodded. Gus returned the mild sentiment.
“Here’s my crew.” Desert pointed out the two people sat opposite Sadie and Donny. “This is Whizzo.”
A young lad stopped hoovering down his food long enough to nod at Gus and give him a cheeky smile. The kid held Gus’s focus – he looked far too young to be part of a resistance.
“You old enough to be in this AGA?”
“I’m seventeen,” Whizzo pointed out. “And you find me somebody who can do the shit I can do and I’ll happily go to bed.”
“Whizzo,” Desert said, “is a technical whiz kid – hence the code name. Any contraption, electrical device, engineering, anything – he can sort it. He is right, the shit he can do is amazing.”