by J D Stone
By the time he hit fourth grade, he was programming advanced software. But when augmented reality — or AR — began to replace the “real” reality of hundreds of millions of people around the world, his parents pulled the plug and enrolled him at Sierra Madre, one of the last schools that rejected universal virtual learning and actually assigned paper books to read.
Surprisingly, Tomás never pouted about it; he just quietly pursued other interests, like differential equations and mechanical engineering. But once the Surge hit and things got bad, something switched in his brain, and a new Tomás emerged: a cunning leader and a strategist.
“If he deviated by any means,” he said, “he might’ve compromised himself.”
“He obviously started the music,” Ben replied, scratching his head. “Which means he must’ve hidden his bike two miles from the speakers, and—”
Aiden cocked his hand condescendingly. “Which means he should’ve been halfway back to his bike by the time the vagabonds reached the stereos.”
“Maybe the vagabonds didn’t make it all the way to the stereos?” Katie asked softly, twisting a dainty golden necklace around her fingers. “And they somehow caught him?”
“Unlikely,” Tomás said. He had that distant look on his face as if mechanical gears were operating in his head. “His return route was in the other direction.”
“We should go look for him,” Aiden said bluntly, standing up.
“Let’s give him another hour or so,” Tomás said quickly. “If he’s not back by then, Danna can put together a search party.”
“Why?”
Ben looked at Aiden and frowned. “Because it’s too dangerous,” he said shortly. Saying that felt like a punch in the gut. One of their own is out there, and it’ll be his fault now if something happens. C’mon, Alex, come home. Don’t do this to us.
“Where’s the Stranger?” Danna asked.
“He’s downstairs resting,” Ben replied. “Got him oatmeal and let him take a shower. He’s fine.”
Danna rested her bandaged arms on the table and pressed her lips into a fine line.
Aiden, reading her expression, said: “Yeah, it looks like we’re gonna be operating a Hilton Hotel for the next few days.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ben said, brushing him off. “I’ll care of it.”
“Why do we keep calling him the Stranger?” Katie asked. “Isn’t he gonna tell us his name?”
“He said it wasn’t important,” Danna replied tersely, wrinkling her nose and giving Ben a side glance.
“I guess it’s not important at the moment,” Katie said, smiling at Danna. “We can find out later.”
Danna and Alex discovered Katie Chiang hiding in the back of an In-N-Out Burger during a supply run two months ago. She told them that she was in nursing school before the Surge, so they welcomed her into the group to serve as the retreat’s medical officer.
At twenty-years-old, she was the oldest of the group; and because of her cheerfulness and sweet demeanor, the younger children looked to her as a mother figure.
“We’ve sorted out what you brought,” Tomás said, ready to move on. “You really scored for us.”
“The antibiotics are going to be huge,” Katie added.
“I saw that my poor buddy here didn’t get his beef jerky,” Tomás said, giving Ben a soft elbow.
They laughed for a moment, but quickly fell silent, as if laughing was an unutterably profane sacrilege. Ron’s death was heavy in the air.
“There’s no way we can go back for his body?” Katie ventured. “For a proper burial?”
Ben shook his head. “There’s too many of them. Alex counted six vagabonds. We were attacked by two, but the second one could’ve been the one I jammed with the taser. I only hit it with nine volts of power, so the least it could’ve done was paralyze it for a minute.”
“But then again you tossed in the grenade,” Tomás said. He shook his head and grinned. “Boy, would I have loved to have seen that.”
“I have to admit,” Ben said as he leaned back and stretched, “it was pretty cool.”
Danna snorted.
“Go ahead and roll your eyes, Miss Pull-a-bobby-pin-out-of-your-hair.”
The other group members looked at each other, confused.
“Anyway,” Danna said. “We know for a fact the second vagabond is gone. I made sure of that after this.” She held up her bandaged arms.
“So there’s definitely four, possibly five vagabonds left,” Aiden said. “And we know they settle in groups, so they’ve probably been back there for a while.”
“It sounds risky,” Tomás said, raking his hands through his hair.
“But to just leave him there?” Katie asked.
“We have to balance the risk against the reward, so to speak,” Tomás replied. “Sure, we can put a small squad together and make a run for him, but we could lose somebody else while doing it.”
“The only way we could pull it off is HULC,” Danna said, glancing at Ben.
“As much as I’d love to take those freaks out with HULC,” Ben said, “I just don’t see it happening. It’s over thirty miles away, and I’ve never taken HULC past the farmhouse.”
They were silent for a moment; everyone was lost in their thoughts.
“So, we all agree that we can’t get Ron?” Aiden asked.
“What about Cameron and Alex?” Katie asked. “Should we wait for them before we decide?”
“They’re not here, so it’s our call,” Aiden said. “We all know we can’t do it. We can’t keep letting people get killed. We’ve lost three in the last month, not including Robby, who just bolted in the middle of the night. Nineteen is getting low.”
Ben clenched his fists. Letting people get killed? Let? He felt an overwhelming desire to break that Roman nose. But a soft elbow nudged his arm, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tomás shake his head discreetly.
“To survive, our strength is in numbers,” Aiden said in a patronizing tone.
“Wow, I never thought of that before,” Ben muttered.
After a final vote, everyone agreed that they couldn’t retrieve Ron’s body. Instead, they’d hold a memorial service for Ron when Cameron and Alex returned.
If they returned, Ben thought.
Aiden leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms. “So, is this Stranger going to be Ron’s new replacement?” he asked, with a touch of sarcasm. “Can’t afford to have a freeloader around here.”
Ben narrowed his eyes on Aiden. Their mothers were roommates, so he was kind of a family friend, even though Aiden ignored Ben at school. Even so, when Cameron roared into the parking lot at Sierra Madre on the day of the Surge, finding Aiden was a priority.
He knew that Aiden wanted to lead the group and that it ate at him that Ben, at fourteen-years-old and two years younger, had the final say on things — even though it was Ben’s family’s retreat. For the most part, Ben ignored it; but lately, Aiden had been stepping out of line more with little things, especially since Cameron has been going on his hunting expeditions.
“He’s not staying here permanently,” Ben said assertively. “We agreed to let him stay for one night and then he’s out tomorrow morning.”
“And what makes you think he’s gonna wanna leave tomorrow morning?” Aiden asked, crossing his arms.
“He said he’s on his way somewhere important,” Danna said icily, rising to Ben’s defense.
Ben shot her a quick glance of appreciation.
“Whatever,” Aiden replied. He yawned noisily. “Can’t imagine someplace important enough that’d be worth being out there. Everybody’s mother and their cow is dead.”
Everybody looked at Aiden and frowned.
“Sorry, not what I meant,” Aiden muttered, leaning further back in his chair. He paused. “Did this Stranger at least have anything useful on him?”
Tomás reached over and lifted the Stranger’s backpack onto the table. “A knife, binoculars, an emergency therm
al blanket, a small tarp, a can of peaches. And this.” He held up a small black plastic device that looked like an old flash drive. “Found it in his pants pocket.”
“Weird,” Aiden said, taking it from Tomás. “Looks pretty sturdy. Wonder what he’s doing with it.”
“It’s a military-grade HVD,” Ben said. “Holographic virtual disc. It crams data onto layers of tiny holograms. It’s titanium encased and secured by a biometric lock, like a fingerprint, eye scan, or a voice wave. Virtually unbreakable.”
“Should we get him to open it?” Aiden asked.
“For what?” Danna replied. “It’s none of our business.”
“Maybe it’s something really important,” Katie said.
Ben took the device from Aiden and put it in his shirt pocket. “I’ll ask him about it.”
“What are we gonna do with this guy?” Aiden asked. “I don’t believe he’s just gonna stay one night.”
“We have more than enough food,” Katie said. “If the Stranger is as harmless as he seems, then I think he should stay here as long as he needs until he regains strength. I looked him over, and he could use some rest. And perhaps he’ll tell us about that thing before we even have to ask him.”
“I agree with you, Katie,” Tomás said. “But nobody is harmless nowadays. Everybody has an angle. Everybody is dangerous.” He glanced at Aiden.
Ben didn’t want to talk to this so-called Stranger. At least at the moment. Instead, he wanted to lay in his bed and sleep. He had four hours until his next duty: perimeter patrol. A four-hour nap would be perfect.
Standing outside a utility room, he hesitated, then gently knocked on the thin metal door. Without waiting for a response, he unlocked the door and pushed it open with his left hand. His right hand was next to his holster.
The Stranger was stretched out on his cot with his hands behind his head. He offered Ben a warm smile.
“Thought you could use some more,” Ben said, setting a water bottle on a small table.
“Thanks,” the Stranger replied, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had water that wasn’t taken from unsavory sources.” He motioned Ben toward the single chair. “Please, sit.”
Ben gave a half-shrug and sat down.
The Stranger, having now showered and eaten, looked like a new man. He was in his early-to-mid-thirties, tall and slim, yet well built, with a narrow face, high cheek bones, and a sharp nose — all marks of an upper-class family heritage. His large blue eyes were thoughtful and intense, yet friendly; and his short, wavy dark hair was receding slightly and streaked with gray on the sides.
The Stranger took a long sip from the water bottle. “So, let me guess: you’re Colonel Knight’s youngest son, this is his ‘summer home,’ and you’re here to ask me how I know your father.”
“He goes by Dr. Knight now,” Ben said. “Or went by. He switched to his PhD when he went civilian.”
“Well, he’ll always be Colonel Knight in my eyes,” the Stranger said warmly. “I once met your older brother when he was a little boy. Cameron, right? He probably doesn’t remember me.”
“Probably not,” Ben replied flatly.
“Is he here?”
“Maybe.”
The Stranger sighed. “Look, Ben, I understand you’re suspicious, and you have every right to be.” He leaned forward and put his hands together. “But now that I made it, it’s going to happen. It has to.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Ben said with a frown. But then he remembered. Reluctantly, he pulled the holographic disc out of his pocket and held it up. “Does it have anything to do with this?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” the Stranger replied gravely.
Ben rubbed his forehead then crossed his arms. “Look, I need to know why you’re here right now because everybody thinks I’m crazy for letting you in.”
“I can’t tell you everything until your brother gets here.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”
The Stranger hesitated, then said: “But I can tell you that I’m here because your dad asked me to.”
Ben’s chest tightened, and he dug his fingers into his palms. “My parents are dead — neither one of them made it out.” He leaned back in his chair and stared into the Stranger’s eyes. “Are you saying they’re alive?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t know. I hope they are.”
Ben sat there stiffly, his mind racing. His dad sent one video message on the day of the Surge. He was at DARPA headquarters in Washington, DC, presenting test run findings of his prototype JU-G1 assault mecha to senior military command.
His dad called him during the middle of class. That was unusual, so Ben snuck to the bathroom and replayed the message.
The transmission was garbled, but Ben could make out the deeply lined wrinkles on his dad’s forehead that would appear when he was ticked-off or deeply concerned. He was standing in a bunker, and people were running behind him.
He told Ben that his brother was on his way to pick him up at school and they were to drive to the retreat at once and without stopping. He said not to worry about Mom and that she’d be okay. He told him that he loved him, was proud of him, the usual dad stuff.
Then he got serious. His last words, barely understandable: “If things get bad, don’t trust anyone—”
After that, the message cut out.
Ben called him back, but the connection was dead. Not two minutes after he got back to class, the power went out. Two minutes after that, a Boeing 747 crashed into the neighborhood across the street and the classroom windows shattered. After that, seventy-two hours of screaming, panic, and death.
“Hey, Ben?”
Ben looked up sharply at the Stranger, who was watching him patiently. “Maybe you did know my dad,” he began, “but it doesn’t matter because the last thing he said to me was not to trust anyone. Anyone.”
The Stranger chuckled. “I’m not just anyone.”
Ben shot him an absurd look, and his eyes flashed in anger. He abruptly stood up, and the aluminum chair fell backward. “This is all really messed up; you know that?”
“Look, just hear me out—”
The Stranger was suddenly cut off by a piercing, high-pitched tone.
The perimeter security alarm. It’d never gone off before.
Ben felt a rush of adrenaline. “Sorry, but this is gonna have to wait,” he said quickly. “I’ll unlock the door, but Katie is gonna keep an eye on you. And remember: we all have guns.”
The Stranger nodded gravely, but Ben was already out the door.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gypsy Danger
BEN BURST INTO the OPSEC room. “Who hit the panic alarm?”
Tomás and Danna were standing at the security monitors, watching CAM 1, the camera by the sentry gate where Marcelo had stopped them in the car.
“It was Aiden,” Tomás replied, squinting at the screen. “Up in Eagle-West.”
“Any idea what’s going on?”
Suddenly they heard a loud mechanized whine and several distant gun shots. Ben grabbed a pair of binoculars and rushed to the window.
It’s finally happening, he thought.
A dozen men on dirt bikes were at the entrance to the basin, all of them armed to the teeth. Their pierced and tattooed faces were painted red as if they were a vicious tribe of psychopaths having arisen in this new world of death.
Ben focused the lenses. Closer to the sentry gate stood an enormous beast of a man, his long gray beard twisted into a greasy braid that dangled at his collarbone, his filth-ridden hands black and deformed, and two red dragon tattoos wrapped around his scarred bald head. His one hand clutched the neck of a sandy-haired boy; the other hand held a gun to that boy’s head.
“They’ve got Alex!” cried Danna, who was standing next to Ben.
“Tomás, you’re the tac officer,” Ben called out over his shoulder. “We need a plan — now!”
“Ju
st give me a second!” Tomás snapped. He was trying desperately to page Marcelo, who was on duty at the sentry gate, over the radio. After two more unsuccessful attempts, Tomás pounded his hands on the table.
“You okay, man?” Ben asked.
“Of course!”
Tomás turned the channel on his headset. “Adobe Group,” he called out, his voice trembling with excitement. “We have Gypsy Danger at the sentry. We’re upgrading to Hammer Strike. This is not a drill. Get to your assigned stations and prepare for assault.” He gave himself a self-assuring nod of approval.
With his Sig Sauer in his hand, Ben unbolted the front door and slipped out onto the outside walkway. It was blistering hot out and windless, and the blood sun baked the basin like a filthy stone bowl on fire. Danna came out and handed him a radio headset. Putting it on, he squinted through the holes in the side of the wall. Sweat dripped down his face and stung his eyes.
The tattooed skinhead threw Alex to the ground and stuck out his chest. “We know you punks are up there!” he roared, his voiced echoing against the cliffs. “We know y’all got a lot of food and beds. Y’all let us in and stay for a while, and we’ll let your little buddy here keep his brains!”
Alex sat up slowly and wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve. He had a black eye and a gash on the side of his head.
The man took two steps forward and hollered: “You have two minutes to show your face and let us in, or I’ll put a bullet in his head and holy hell in your hidey-hole! I swear to the devil above that those who die will be the lucky ones!”
“Aiden, if you can hear me, you gotta take out the leader!” Tomás called out over the radio. “Just like we practiced!”
“Copy that, Adobe.”
Up in Eagle-West, Aiden wet his finger and held it to the wind. None. He settled in behind the McMillan sniper rifle and flipped open the scope covers. Zeroing in on the biker leader, he said, “Target in scope.”