Citadel: The Concordant Sequence

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Citadel: The Concordant Sequence Page 18

by Matthew S. Cox


  “The Citadel,” said Mei. “My mom makes numbers there and brings food. She says it’s nice. They have cold inside. It’s not hot. There’s metal men and glowing things. They put people in little windows.”

  “Little windows?” asked Kiera.

  Mei nodded. “Mom has one at home. It’s a little box with a window on it, and there’s people inside it that talk. Sometimes they shout at each other and stuff blows up.”

  “Sounds like she’s got something that plays movies or video,” said Kiera.

  “Huh?” asked Osc.

  Kiera eased herself down to sit, and explained movies.

  “Maybe.” Mei nodded.

  “Dad says sometimes they put stuff in the water to grow.” Osc pointed at the trees. “That’s why there’s forest. Seeds an’ stuff swim down the river.”

  “The Exalted live in the Citadel, and they don’t come out.” Peter glanced at Kiera. “I saw one once. He had strange clothes. Same color like your eyes, and they made noise when he moved.”

  Osc scratched his stomach. “Is like before Cloudfall happened inside. I wanna see it.”

  “Silly.” Mei nudged him. “They don’t let kids inside. You not old ’nuff to get a permit.”

  “I get permit when I older.” He folded his arms. “Work like my dad.”

  Kiera gathered her fur poncho close, guarding against the wind. Most of what she could remember from before had been scary. War, poison, people frightened all the time, her parents always away at work. The primitive life she’d stumbled into had none of that. “Maybe it’s better this way… but I kinda miss my games.”

  “Better what way?” asked Peter.

  “The village.” She shrugged. “This. Farming. Parents home all day, not going off to work. It’s quiet.”

  “Was it loud where you came from?” asked Mei.

  Kiera picked at a burr in her poncho, a spiked seedpod she must’ve collected on the walk in. “I don’t remember, but I think so. There were so many people and cars and riots and… war.”

  “We had a war.” Osc swatted a giant fly off his arm. “Bandits try ta steal from us. My dad an’ everyone had ta fight ’em.”

  “Much bads,” said Mei, nodding. “But we win.”

  The ponderous insect, as fat as a green grape, seemed to be struggling to stay aloft, and buzzed around the kids.

  Kiera stared at the circling bug, pulling her knees close to her chest, hiding as much of her skin as possible under her poncho. “Do bandits attack often?”

  “Who’s often? Why’d bandits wanna hurt him?” asked Sparrow.

  “A lot. Do bandits attack a lot.” Kiera cringed when the fly thrummed past her face. “Do these things bite?”

  “Sometimes.” Mei swatted at the bug, her hand making an audible thump on contact. Like a crashing plane, the fly spiraled down into the trees before recovering and darting off. “They bite.”

  “Only one time bandits,” said Osc.

  Peter pushed himself upright and moved to the far left end of the catwalk, standing with his back to the others. Kiera watched him until he lifted the front of his skirt, at which point she turned away, blushing. “Dad said the bandits had a king, and a lot of them made a big group. After the war, there aren’t enough bandits to try again. As long as we stay near the village, we’re safe.”

  “I saw some bandits,” said Kiera.

  “You did?” Mei gasped. “What happened? Did they try to steal you?”

  Peter returned to sit where he had been.

  “Yeah.” She told them the story.

  The four of them stared at her in awe the entire time.

  “I bet they were sooooo mad,” said Mei, grinning.

  “Yeah.” Kiera explained how she hid in the cabinet listening to them slam stuff around.

  Peter laughed. “You were right next to them and they didn’t know.”

  “What game do you miss?” asked Mei.

  “I had a lot of them, but I was playing TCS most.”

  “Tee-cee-ess?” asked Sparrow.

  “The Concordant Sequence. A video game.”

  All four of them stared at her like she’d spoken a foreign language.

  “That’s the name. It’s about aliens invading Earth, and you control this soldier who’s the last one left from her squad. You gotta fight all the aliens yourself.”

  “How do you do that?” asked Osc. “What’s a video game?”

  Kiera tried to explain as best she could, but her attempt only confused them more. None of them had ever seen a TV or a computer or a gaming console. “It’s like that window with the people in it, only they’re not real people… just drawings that move around, and you control them.”

  “Okay.” Mei shrugged.

  “What’s that?” When everyone looked at Osc, he pointed. “Over there by the white stuff.”

  Kiera crawled to the edge of the catwalk. A spread of wildflowers ran along the top of a ridge near a boxy, metal object with tracked treads facing up. “It looks like a tank… upside down.”

  Peter scrunched up his nose. “Tank?”

  “A war machine,” said Kiera. “Like from the Army.”

  Osc scrambled to his feet. “I wanna see.”

  “Umm. It could be dangerous.” Kiera leaned away from the edge.

  “So is being up here.” Peter grabbed Sparrow before he could lean too far forward, and carried him to the hole in the grating. “Go down.”

  Yeah. Down is good. Kiera crawled to the ladder, stepping on as soon as Sparrow gave her room. The wind flipped her poncho about and tried to blind her by whipping her hair into her face. She kept her eyes shut and descended by feel until the trees shielded her from the gale. Osc ran off as soon as he could jump to the dirt without hurting himself. Sparrow took a few steps, but waited for the others. Once Peter reached the ground, they headed off in single file behind him.

  After about ten minutes of walking, they found Osc squatting at the top of the ridge amid tall grass and white wildflowers. Once he noticed the others approaching, he climbed down out of sight. Peter jogged after him.

  Kiera halted at the top while the others slid down a dirt hill to where the rusted hulk of an old Army vehicle lay at the bottom with its tracks in the air, entombed in a cluster of weeds and vines. Some plants even grew in the dirt that collected between the tracks. Above it, a divot in the far side of the ravine showed where the earth had collapsed, dumping the tank over the edge. The dead war machine tilted at an angle, propped up by a turret. A large square hatch at the back end had opened upward. What had been a ramp became an awning.

  Sparrow tripped on a root and rolled down the ridge face like a log, screaming. He spilled out at the bottom, flat on his back, and his screams became laughter. She let out a sigh of relief, turned her back to the gulley, and climbed. By the time she reached the bottom, Osc had already gone inside the machine.

  “Wow,” said Mei. “That looks old.”

  “It is.” Kiera walked around the nose end. The gun sticking out of the turret looked way too tiny for the size of the tank. She kept going around to the back. The interior had two bench seats along the sides, now on the ceiling. “Oh… it’s like an APC or something.”

  “What’s that mean?” Mei sidled up next to her and grabbed her hand.

  “It’s not dangerous. It’s a umm… personal carrier. Armor personal carrier.” Kiera nodded. “Or something like that. Soldiers used to drive them to the war.”

  Osc dug at something in the back. He pulled up a helmet, still attached to a skeleton. A shake knocked the bones loose and he put it on. “Look. I found a hat! It’s heavy.”

  “Eww!” shouted Kiera. “That was on a dead guy!”

  “So?” Osc shrugged. “He don’t need it.”

  Mei crept up to the back, staring up at the ramp. Peter climbed on top of the old vehicle, watching their surroundings. Kiera glanced up at him. He’s trying to protect us… but from what? Mei crawled inside. Sparrow sprang upright holding a combat knife
.

  While Osc pulled crumbling camouflage clothes out of a box, Mei rummaged a well-rusted assault rifle from a gathering of dirt in the back corner. Two pea-sized mushrooms grew out of an opening in its side. Kiera remembered empty bullets flying out of that spot from one of her FPS games, but that rifle fired its last shot a long time ago.

  No amount of skill points in repair is gonna fix that.

  Osc grumbled in frustration as the camo fabric disintegrated into a rain of crumbles.

  Content with her find, Mei walked back outside, jumping off the end of the vehicle and carrying the relic over. “Do you know what this is? You know stuff.”

  “Yes. It’s a rifle. Or was. It’s junk now.”

  “A rifle?” asked Mei.

  “Do you know what a gun is?”

  Mei shook her head.

  “Okay… For war, people kill each other.”

  “I know that.” Mei rolled her eyes.

  “A gun is something that kills people from far away. It throws bullets, little pieces of metal, really fast.”

  Mei gasped and dropped the rifle. “I don’t wanna kill anyone.”

  “The only way you’d kill anyone with that is if you hit them over the head with it.” Kiera crouched, poking at it. “It’s rusty, and all the inside parts are stuck.”

  Sparrow scampered over to her holding a moldy paper book bound with black spiral plastic. “I found it in a box! What this?”

  “A book.” Kiera took it to examine. The plain white cover had no pictures, only words. She could make most of it out under the deep mold stains. “Soldier’s manual and trainer’s guide for M2 Bradley Fighting Vehicle… something.”

  Inside had some pictures, drawings of the truck, like how to take stuff apart.

  “Can I give this to my dad?” asked Kiera.

  “I found it.” Sparrow pouted. “Is good for pooping.”

  “You got the knife.” She pointed at it. “And this might have information in it that could help the whole village.”

  He sighed. “Okay.”

  From far off, Dad’s voice echoed, calling Kiera’s name. Soon after, a man shouted, “Mei.”

  “They’re calling us,” said Peter before turning toward the voices. He held his hands to his mouth and yelled, “We’re coming back.”

  Kiera looked down at herself, covered in dirt, wearing a dog-leather poncho, living in a tribal village somewhere in a place that used to be Texas. If her bio-parents wanted her to come home, they’d have called her smartphone. She’d gone weeks without even thinking of one, and couldn’t even remember where in her room she’d left it. Then again, it’s not as if she ever went anywhere that they’d have had to call her home. Few memories of her real home remained inside her head, but she did remember that going outside could be deadly.

  Weird. I don’t even miss my phone much. She hurried after the others to climb the dirt wall. Living in a village so small she could walk out the door, shout the name of anyone she knew, and they’d hear her kinda made phones needless. At the top of the hill, she paused to stare up at the dark clouds. A thin strip of green lightning snaked along without sound. All the humans left in the world lived in a 200-mile wide circle.

  That kinda made a lot of things pointless.

  18

  Stolen Goods

  Kiera spent the rest of the day before bed sitting with her father on the sofa, poring over the book she’d brought back. Unfortunately, the information in it would likely never be of any use. However, he found it fascinating. Mostly, it explained how to operate the old war machine and maintain its various systems. Some handwritten notes indicated the vehicle had belonged to the National Guard, and was quite old even before Cloudfall. She also learned it had been a personnel carrier—not ‘personal carrier.’

  When bedtime came, she scrambled up the ladder to her room and felt her way in the dark to her mattress. Content and happy, she drifted off to a dreamless sleep. Mala’s hand on her foot patted her awake in what felt like an instant. The stifling heat so early promised an uncomfortable day, and she wasted little time climbing down to the much cooler ground floor.

  They shared a breakfast of vegetables as well as bread covered in jam. That, too, came from a modern plastic jar. She couldn’t identify the flavor beyond it being fruit.

  “I’m going to Norven’s in a bit to trade. Want to go?” asked Teryn.

  Kiera snarled into her bread. “I don’t like him.”

  Mala looked up. “Did something happen?”

  “He’s cheap.” She explained begging for clothes and him wanting her to work.

  “The man probably thought you were playing.” Teryn shrugged. “I’ve known him for years. I’m sure if you’d asked for food, he’d have helped.”

  She shrugged.

  After helping clean dishes, Kiera accompanied her father on the way into the village, his backpack loaded with items he’d managed to fix. A handful of homes had working solar panels, so a few people could make use of appliances like toasters or small lamps. He’d also made an armored vest out of dog-leather and metal plates taken from other junk he couldn’t fix. Kiera didn’t think it would help much against a real knife, but it looked cool.

  Norven greeted them both with a smile. “Morning. It looks good on her.” He winked.

  Kiera glanced up at her father while tugging at her poncho. “You got this here?”

  “You’re surprised?” He chuckled. “Only one place to trade. I didn’t run across the Refuge to another village.”

  Grr. He had this and could’ve given it to me all along. She kept her scowl aimed at the floor as her father set items out on the counter for Norven to examine. Kiera hovered close, watching the men discuss the value of various gadgets. Bored, she scratched at her shin with her toes, close to falling asleep.

  “What’cha lookin’ for?” asked Norven.

  “Some solder if you have any, but mostly need Citadel food. Garden’s strugglin’. Could use some wire, too.”

  Kiera tugged on his arm. “Dad, that old Army truck. There’s gotta be wires inside it.”

  “You ever gonna check out that place?” asked Norven. “Ain’t too far off ya know. In the woods a ways. Can’t seem to get anyone interested.”

  “Not since Kal tried it and stayed gone.” Teryn muttered something about Sky Spirits. “And you tried to send my daughter there?”

  “Aww.” Norven waved dismissively. “Ain’t no tellin’ what happened to him. Of anyone in Exxo, you ought’a know ‘cursed’ means good stuff they don’t understand.”

  Teryn shook his head and pushed the toaster toward him. “Maybe if I ain’t got another choice.”

  Footsteps scuffed over the dirt outside. Kiera glanced back at the leather strips serving as a door. She raised her arm to wave at whoever walked in, but froze in panic when King brushed the scraps aside. Dell and Firestone followed him in, looking around at the shelves. Dell carried a plastic crate full of junk, Firestone had the crossbow, the bolt in it still smeared with Legacy’s blood.

  Kiera clamped on to her father, shaking.

  He looked down at her, confused.

  “Hey!” yelled King. “That’s ours.”

  “No!” yelled Kiera. “Don’t let them take me!”

  The bandit rushed toward them. Kiera wedged herself between her father and the counter, barely keeping her breakfast from flying out of her mouth.

  Teryn shoved the man back a step. “You’re the ones… She’s my daughter. Don’t touch her.”

  “That kid’s stolen,” said Dell. “She belongs ta us.”

  Kiera leaned around her father and shouted, “You tried to kidnap me! I escaped. You can’t steal people!”

  Firestone pointed at her. “She stealed herself. Belongs us.”

  “I thought I wasn’t a slave,” snapped Kiera. “Some feral thing you were ‘rescuing?’ Well, I’m safe and civilized here. Go away!”

  King thrust out his chin, getting in Teryn’s face. “We found her. She stole herse
lf before we could bring her to trade. You owe us trade value.”

  “You’re slaver dogs.” Teryn gripped the handle of a knife on his belt. “Your kind has no place in Exxo. Get gone while you can still walk.”

  Norven grasped Kiera from behind, hands under her armpits. She jumped at the sudden touch, but didn’t make a sound as he lifted her up and over the counter. As soon as he set her back on her feet, he grabbed a sledgehammer from pegs on the wall behind her. Kiera crouched, peering over the countertop.

  “That kid’s worth a lot. Not sick, all her limbs on,” said King.

  “She kinda sick,” said Dell. “People ain’t s’posed ta be that white. Got fever er somethin’.”

  Firestone raised the crossbow. “Best be reason bull. Pay owed and no blood.”

  “Pay, or she’s ours,” snarled King.

  “Go away,” said Kiera.

  The waver of fear in her voice got the muscles in Teryn’s arm bulging. “You got no claim to her. All the village knows her. You dogs won’t survive ten steps.”

  King went to lunge past him and reach over the counter for her hair. She screamed and leapt back, bumping a shelf and knocking over a few small cans. Teryn yanked the knife from his belt and jammed it into the bandit’s chest too fast for the bandit to react. King’s face reddened as veins in his forehead swelled. His expression of rage melted to shock. Kiera screamed again and ducked down to sit on the floor, huddled against the wall.

  The crossbow fired with a twang. Teryn shouted in pain. Norven jumped the counter with his sledgehammer, roaring. Feet scuffled. A body thudded to the ground. Teryn staggered to one side. Daylight flared brighter in the room with the rustle of leather scraps as men burst outside.

  Norven’s shout carried over the village, “Bandits! Tried ta kill Teryn and take Kiera for slave!”

  More shouting arose, becoming distant, but continuing. Soon, the thumps and wails of a fight started.

  “Stay down there. Don’t look,” rasped Teryn.

  “What happened?” whispered Kiera. “Are you okay?”

  He leaned on the counter. “Arrow in the leg. I’ll be all right. Don’t worry.”

 

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