by Rook Winters
She kept shouting until her throat hurt.
The last place she checked was the hospital. Vaidehi was sprawled on the steps, her torso torn to shreds.
Why are they using alien tech but shooting people with guns?
It didn’t make sense but it also didn’t matter. Elle closed Vaidehi’s eyes and sat beside her. She clutched the doctor’s blood-caked hand in her own. It felt unnatural but she didn’t let go.
So much death.
She sobbed like she had on her first day here. Long after her eyes had stopped spilling tears, her body continued to heave.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but the sun was casting long shadows when she heard Court.
“They’re all gone,” he said. His eyes were puffy and the dirt on his face was streaked with lines.
“I know.”
“Marsh… they didn’t shoot him. I thought, maybe…”
“They used a Scorpion on him. It’s a neuroelectrical immobilizer. At full strength, it’s just as lethal as a gun. They didn’t spare anyone, not even the kids.”
Fresh tears traced new lines down his cheeks, painting his grief on his face. It was beyond anything a person should know, and she had no idea what to say to that.
Neither of them moved for several minutes, until the sounds of rustling and soft thuds made their heads snap to attention. Elle gripped the mag gun and they followed the sound.
Did I miss someone?
She was sure she had checked everywhere. Her heart sank at what she saw. A dog was dragging one of the children toward the trees. It growled as they approached.
“Leave him alone,” she hollered. The dog didn’t stop and she raised the mag gun. Court pushed it back down.
“Nothing else dies today.” He charged and shouted at the animal. It let go of the boy’s leg but looked like it would stand its ground. Only at the last second did it turn and run.
“I thought there weren’t dogs around here.”
“That was a coywolf. It doesn’t deserve to die for trying to eat. But it’ll be back and probably with its pack. We need to do something. I don’t want the animals to pick their bodies apart. That seems disrespectful.”
Elle looked down at the dead boy. She didn’t know his name, but she’d seen him playing in the village. There were so many of them, so many bodies. They buried their dead here. Elle remembered how long she’d needed to dig a hole large enough for just her helmet and suit.
“We can’t bury them fast enough.”
Court looked at the blackened remains of his home. “Let’s move them into the meeting hall. Then we’ll…” He choked on his words, and it took several breaths for him to find his composure. “Then we’ll burn them there, together.”
The stretcher from the hospital was still intact, so they used that to carry the deceased, starting with those lying out in the open. As they loaded each body onto the stretcher, Court would say the person’s name. For some, he shared a story or a memory while they carried them. Elle felt fresh pangs of anguish with each one.
When they came to Walker’s body, Court dropped to his knees and held the boy in his arms. He rocked back and forth cradling him.
“We should’ve taken him with us today. He’d still be alive if we’d just…”
Elle knelt beside Court and put a hand on his shoulder.
“This isn’t your fault, Court.”
“But if we’d only—”
“No, there was nothing we could have done. It’s what we do now that matters, and we need to keep working. We’re running out of light.”
When the sun fell below the trees, they built several fires to keep the animals away and provide extra light while they worked. As the night drew on, the bodies grew rigid and harder to move. A few hadn’t made it out of the cabins and were burned beyond recognition. Court made guesses about their identities but it was challenging in the dim moonlight.
By the time they were moving the last body, the sun was back in the sky, chasing away the damp chill.
Elle counted the bodies and then Court did the same.
“192. That’s everyone. We’re the only ones who survived.”
They covered the bodies in straw, branches, and kindling from the village’s firewood.
Elle’s hair and clothes were drenched in sweat, and her arms were beginning to give out, but Court wasn’t slowing down. He continued carrying more firewood.
“I need to rest,” she said.
He dropped the wood from his arms and fell to the ground on the spot as if he had been waiting for her to give him permission to stop.
“Yeah, let’s rest.”
She lay down on the ground near him. The warmth of the rising sun almost felt comforting on her face.
I’ll just close my eyes for a few minutes…
A soft prodding on her arm woke her. She had to squint against the sun when she tried opening her eyes. It wasn’t high in the sky so she couldn’t have been sleeping long.
Why is Court waking me up so soon?
She pushed away whatever he was poking her with. It was warm and humid. And it sniffed. She opened her eyes all the way and screamed. A coywolf showed its teeth as it snarled. Her mind raced trying to come up with a viable defense when she was flat on her back. It lunged and she swung her arm. Her fist bounced against the side of its head but without room for a full swing she didn’t connect with enough force to do any damage. Her arm burned as it slid against the tip of a fang.
The beast was on top of her instantly. She kicked and flailed to keep it from getting to her neck. It sunk its teeth into her forearm and she screamed louder. She smelled its foul breath as it snorted and growled. The coywolf shook its head, and she feared it would tear her arm off.
Then the animal lost its grip and flew off her with a yelp. Silhouetted by the sun, Court stood over her with pieces of firewood in his hands. He threw one at the coywolf’s ribs then jumped between her and the animal, moving the other piece of wood from his left hand to his right. The coywolf growled and leaped. Court swung the piece of hardwood into the side of its snout. Something cracked as the wood made contact and the beast barreled into him with a whimper.
In the chaos of the collision, Court wrapped one arm around the coywolf’s neck and another under its front legs. After several seconds of struggle, he locked his legs around its body and squeezed.
Elle ran for the mag gun. Her arm stung like it was on fire.
By the time she returned with the gun, the coywolf’s resistance was little more than twitching. Court’s face was tight with rage. It scared her. When the animal stopped moving, he relaxed his legs but kept squeezing the neck. Court made a guttural sound that turned into heaving sobs and a fresh flood of tears.
When he rolled the limp body away from himself, he took the mag gun and fired an arrow between two ribs.
“These things are scavengers,” he said. “They’ll keep coming as long as they smell death. We need to light the fire and get ourselves cleaned off. And find something for your arm.”
“Vaidehi said there was corn whiskey somewhere. If it’s still here, we can use it as an accelerant for the fire and a disinfectant my arm.”
He pointed toward the hospital. “She kept hers stashed away. She sometimes gave it to patients for minor things to take the edge off when she didn’t want to waste real painkillers. Maybe it survived the fire.”
They moved cautiously through the remains of the village. Elle feared another attack from behind every corner. Her arm throbbed with each step.
The inside of the hospital was in better shape than most of the village, its structure and contents clearly more fire resistant than the wooden cabins. There was damage from the explosives but the building itself had not caught fire and its metal cabinets showed promise for holding undamaged supplies.
“Here,” Court said. It was a cabinet in the back of the building. “I think it’s in here but it’s locked.”
Elle scanned the room in search of a key that would
fit the old-fashioned mechanical lock. She didn’t find one, but she found a tank marked OXYGEN. “We can use that. Thank goodness it didn’t explode in here.”
She didn’t realize Court had left the room until he came back in with a metal shaft that he jammed into the cabinet and leaned into until the small lock gave way and the cabinet popped open. Inside was a glass jug holding at least ten liters of whiskey.
Court opened the jug and poured some on Elle’s arm. She groaned through gritted teeth.
“I think that hurts worse than the actual bite did.”
Court pried open more cabinets until he found first aid supplies. He wrapped Elle’s arm in a splash pad and she dry swallowed several pills. He tried to convince her to take a few minutes to recuperate, but she insisted they get the fire started as soon as possible. She didn’t want any more coywolf encounters.
They took the oxygen tank and whiskey to the meeting hall. Being careful not to step on anyone, Court waded through the straw and branches spreading the alcohol. Elle passed the oxygen tank to him and told him to leave it in the middle of the room with the valve open. It hissed ominously as he hurried out.
She lit a makeshift torch from the embers of a campfire and tossed it in. Flames rushed along the trails of corn whiskey, igniting the straw.
The fire moved swiftly, and they hurried away from the building. When the oxygen tank exploded, the meeting hall became a temporary inferno.
As it roared, the smell drove them further and further away until they had backed up across the clearing to the edge of the woods. They leaned against trees and watched the tops of the flames dance. Even in the midday light, the fire burned brightly.
“We should take the extra medical supplies with us,” Elle said. “If there’s anything small and valuable, we can sell it for food or supplies.”
“What are you talking about? Carry it with us where?”
“To Toronto. That’s our best place to start looking for Nora Barrett.”
“Are you nacking insane? We can’t go to Toronto. There’s only us left. The chickens that haven’t escaped need to be fed. The harvest needs to be finished. Vegetables and fruit need to be preserved for the winter. I need to rebuild my cabin. There’s—”
“Court, the village is gone. It’s pointless to stay here.”
“It’s not pointless. This is my home. We’re not going to Toronto. End of discussion.”
“Something bigger than us is happening, can’t you see that? They’re killing people because they’re scared of what they know. I can’t ignore that, not now. With or without you, I’m going.”
“Good luck lasting two days on your own.” He stood and brushed evergreen needles from his pants. “I’m going to dress the coywolf.”
CHAPTER 21: BRITT
“Britt? Britt, you in here?”
She heard Bear calling her, but she hadn’t composed herself yet so she didn’t answer. She drew in several slow breaths. Obviously, he knew she was in here. He’d watched her go into the storage room. She wiped her eyes and willed them to stay dry.
“I’ll be right there.”
“The containers need to go out or we’ll miss our window.”
“I said I’ll be right there.” She wasn’t one to snap at her crew. She’d apologize to Bear later. He was right, of course. This shipment needed to go out. The Willow Wisp wouldn’t be in range for another pickup for months. She had to pull herself together.
Britt checked her reflection in the screen of her tablet. Her eyes were red but that would pass. She touched her cheek, remembering how her makeup used to smudge on the rare occasions that something made her tear up. She didn’t miss makeup but what she wouldn’t give to get back her life when the things that made her sad were small concerns.
Britt pulled her shoulders back, filled her lungs, and pushed open the storage room door. Her small crew was waiting in the loading bay.
“What are you all lollygagging around for? I thought we had a shipment to get out.”
Her boots clanged on the old metal stairs as she descended with Bear to the train platform. He hadn’t been exaggerating, she’d cut it dangerously close. The grav train arrived in the time between her foot leaving the last step and touching the concrete floor.
The train’s rate of deceleration would flatten a human or even one of the Others. That was good. That meant the train was all cargo, no passengers, exactly as their intel said.
She waved to Novak, and he motioned for her to hurry. She walked as quickly as she could, which wasn’t very quick anymore.
“You’re cutting it kind of close.”
“We’ll see how fast you are at my age.” She handed him her tablet. “Here’s our addition to the manifest.”
Novak tapped his wrist computer against the screen. Both devices flashed green.
“Eight crates. Confirmed. Let’s look it over.”
Britt waved her finger in a circle over her head and Bear stomped back up the stairs. Overhead, five-foot-long crates slid off tracks and into the column of artificial microgravity that the train was generating above an empty compartment. Drones bumped and pushed the descending crates into position as they dropped at an unnaturally slow rate. Green lights popped on when the magnetic clamps inside the train took hold of the crates.
After all eight were in place, Novak opened the crates. Vacuum-sealed tea and coffee. Luxury items.
“Visual inspection complete,” he said as he swiped a finger across his wrist computer. “Digitally signing the manifest changes.”
“Keep your disgusting hands off me,” a woman shouted from a nearby corridor.
Novak hurried toward the source of the voice and Britt followed. A woman dressed in little more than rags was waving her arms at the lone security guard. He looked hopelessly at Novak as they approached.
“What’s the problem?” Novak asked.
“I’m not quite sure,” the guard said.
“Oh, we’ve got a long list of problems here,” the woman said. “Not the least of which is this asshole trying to grope me.”
“I did not,” the guard said to the woman. Then he repeated to Novak, “I didn’t. She showed up out of nowhere and started raving like this.”
“Raving! Oh, I see, I’m not some emotionally repressed man so obviously I’m a raving madwoman.” She swung the bag she was carrying, missing the guard but losing her grip on it and sending it flying. The contents clattered out onto the concrete floor.
“Ma’am,” Novak said, “this is a restricted area. You’re not allowed to be here. We’ll help you collect your things and then we need to escort you out.”
Novak and the guard turned their backs to the open train compartment. Britt risked a quick look over her shoulder. From the loading bay above, Wilm jumped into the train’s microgravity, hauling another five-foot-long crate. Chemical propellant thrusters in his suit helped speed his descent. He was in the train and gone from sight in less than four seconds. She grimaced at the thought of his rough landing. Impact-absorbing lining in a jumpsuit only did so much.
She began counting the seconds. One… two… three… four…
Wilm needed seventy-five seconds to override the magnetic locks, swap out the crate, reactivate the locks, and get back upstairs with the original crate.
“Ma’am, how did you get into this area?” the security guard asked.
“Don’t you ma’am me. You can’t cop a feel one minute then treat someone like an unwanted rodent the next and then make it up with a polite word or two. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Ma’am, miss, lady. Look, I’m sorry, whatever you think I did…”
The guard was flustered, which made Britt smile. The woman was showing the guard and Novak the door through which she’d entered.
Sixty… sixty-one… sixty-two…
Britt looked back again. Wilm and a crate were on their way back up to the loading bay.
Seventy… Seventy-one…
They were clear.
The woman
in rags was gone and Novak was chastising the security guard.
“Great, the train is late now. Let’s get this show on the road.” Novak tapped on his wrist computer. The train compartment sealed itself shut, and the train glided away with a hum that belied its incredible mass and breakneck speed.
“What an unusual young woman,” Britt said.
“I apologize for the commotion,” Novak said as he glowered at the security guard.
With Novak’s digital inspection seal on the train compartment, there was no risk of their crates being opened again before launch. Britt breathed a sigh of relief as she climbed the stairs.
Once back inside the safety of their cargo facility, she beamed at her small crew. “Excellent work, everyone. Bear, what was our official time?”
“Seventy-four seconds from jump to cargo doors closed. One second better than target.”
The rag lady came in via the public entrance from the street.
“And Ainsley, what a performance.” Britt pressed her hands over her heart. “You missed your calling in the theater, my dear.”
“I thought that guard was going to piss himself when I accused him of touching me.”
“An inspired improvisation. Bravo.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just buy off the guard?” Wilm asked. He was new to the crew. This was his first job.
“You’d think so,” Bear said, “but the guards rotate out too frequently. Besides, the sneaky switcheroo is the fun part.”
Wilm rubbed his shoulder. “Easy for you to say. You aren’t the one slamming into the train.”
Bear’s massive chest and shoulders bounced as he laughed. “I did my time and I’ve got the bad knees to prove it. I can predict a storm better than the weather service.”
“Plus it’s far too expensive to buy Bear-sized jumpsuits.” Britt patted his bulging chest and noticed a subtle shift in Wilm’s body language. Did he have feelings for the big man? Britt made a mental note to keep an eye out for that. Romantic relationships were a no-go in her crew, not that she worried about Bear. His battered heart was already spoken for.
“Everyone into their street clothes,” Bear said. “Leave one at a time. Britt and I will lock up.”