by Alia Hess
A woman stood in the doorway, her face creased. “What are you doing?”
“Stealing.”
Sasha dumped the food into the back seat, then slammed the door and slid into the driver’s side. He floored the gas, tires squealing and kicking up dust, and turned for the exit. The guards at the gate waved him through without question, and he bumped onto the highway.
Tomorrow the world will be dead. It might be the best thing for America and the world in the long run, but try telling that to the one percent who are resistant. Watching blood pour from their loved ones’ eyes, noses, ears… Corpses everywhere. Commerce shut down. Children starving. And I did it. Or at the very least, I didn’t stop it in time. Why didn’t I lock that fucking bunker door sooner?
He dug out his apology list and opened it. There weren’t enough lines for all of the people he needed to say sorry to now. Sasha wadded up the yellow paper and threw it out the window.
Should he go to Burr? Tell Irina what happened? He shook his head. She didn’t need to get wrapped up in this. What would she think of him? Nothing good, surely.
If someone had asked him yesterday about his thoughts, he would have insisted the protection of America came first, because that’s what affected him. But it was completely different now that he faced the heavy burden of reality.
Maybe he should go east to Hammerlink, instead. He’d asked the doctors several times if he could be transferred to their Eastern team, but they always denied his request. There was no way Sasha wanted to go work in a new facility now—those guys were probably in kahoots with Krupin too—but visiting a technologically advanced American city would be new and different.
There was something else he was going to do if he ever got there… something important. It was so hard to think about anything except what just transpired, though. He’d figure it out later. The only thing that seemed important right now was that he get away.
Sasha roared down the highway, his brain a roiling ocean of disgust and confusion. The truck thumped over buckles and gaps, bounced over rocks, and swerved past metal pylons and broken street signs. Faded billboards, decrepit gas stations, and the skeletons of rusty cars flew past in a blur.
Maybe I should just drive into a tree.
He beat his hand against the steering wheel, tears stinging his eyes.
After driving for some time, he parked the truck in a parking lot of an old diner, tilting the solar panels on the roof toward the sun. He propped the seat back and pulled out his tablet. Twenty new email notifications flashed. Most of them were threats from Dr. Krupin for stealing facility property. Two were from Dr. Orlov, and slightly less threatening. The newest one was from Irina. He clicked it.
He stared at the tablet. She deserved to know the truth.
He set the tablet in the passenger’s seat and leaned back against the headrest. The highway was getting quite degraded. He could look at some new routes and find the best way to Hammerlink, but right now it didn’t really seem to matter.
His tablet vibrated, and Sasha’s heart jumped a little. He picked the tablet up and read the reply from Irina.
God, my hands are shaking so bad I can barely type. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You’re still a good person, okay? If you want to talk about it more, send me another text or call me. I’m so sorry, Sasha.>
He sighed and threw the tablet into the passenger’s seat, starting up the truck again and turning onto the road.
After two more days of driving, Sasha sat in the cab of the parked truck, his bare feet hanging out the window. Acres of wild, genetically-altered, creeping sugar corn ran alongside the road, bunches of bright green leaves fluttering in the breeze, and golden corn silk glistening in the sunlight. He was somewhere in what used to be known as Nebraska. The Americans didn’t really have a name for it anymore. The city of Hammerlink lay another two days east.
He turned off the video of his and Irina’s kiss, a hand on his chin. Why was Hammerlink important? Aside from him just wanting to visit, something or someone was there that he needed to find…
But I’ve never been there. Who would I need to find? And for what reason?
Sasha stared into the steering wheel, then thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead.
His friend, Owl. He’d promised her that if he ever went to Hammerlink, he would look up her brother. That’s what had been nagging him.
But Owl will want to know about the virus release too. She was so concerned about it in the past when I visited her and Trav with the drone. …I’m not sure I’m ready to tell her.
He clicked a news page on his tablet: Russia devastated by NAHS; NAHS spreads to Europe; Face masks ineffective; Billions dead across the globe.
Sasha clicked a link for pictures, scrolling through image after image of streets painted red, children crying blood tears, and corpses stacked into piles.
He stumbled out of the truck, vomiting into the grass.
I need to look at that shit. Need to look at what my ineptitude caused.
Forcing himself to look at the images again, he gagged and groaned, then stuffed the tablet in his pocket.
I can’t.
Crows cawed from overhead and the wind whistled past his ears, then a strange sound rose—something so low he felt it more than heard—a purring vibration, like machinery underwater. There was nothing but corn fields. Blue sky. Broken road.
The sound grew louder. He scrunched his face and tilted his head. Walking to the road and looking in either direction offered him no clues. He put his hands on his hips.
“What the hell is that?”
The vibration rattled his chest and jarred his teeth. As he walked back to the truck, the sound increased. It was coming from the corn field. He squinted. Two reflective green disks, like alien moons, stared back. His mouth fell open, breath caught in his shuddering chest. He jerked at the door handle of the truck.
Cornstalks parted and snapped as the creature within leaped. Sasha pulled open the door, but the tawny animal fell upon him, its purr now a high-decibel snarl. It resembled a massive panther, many wrinkles and velvet folds of loose skin spreading out from its face in undulating waves. Sasha was more concerned with its teeth. They were very large and sharp, framing a coarse, purple tongue. He thought his eardrums might break before anything else. At least he wouldn’t be able to hear himself scream.
The cat’s pupils were long slits in the sun. It tilted its huge head and kneaded its paws into his arms, then pressed its drooling muzzle against his neck and sniffed.
Sasha let out a squeal. “Irina! Shoot target! Shoot target!”
Drone C6—newly christened “Irina”—lurched up in the truck’s back seat, banging against the roof. The cat looked up in surprise, just as the guns extended from beneath the drone and emitted a spray of bullets. The truck window exploded and the creature lurched backward, hissing like a thousand snakes. Sasha covered his head with his hands and rolled under the truck.
The thing wasn’t dead yet. Red bloomed from its loose, golden hide. It swiped at the truck with a huge paw and was welcomed with another round of shots. It roared and hit the vehicle again, nearly tipping it over. Tires wheezed as the cat tore and bit them and the truck sank to one side. The drone emitted another barrage of bullets. Sasha squeezed his eyes shut.
No more shots came, and the vibration in his che
st disappeared. He rolled over. The cat lay in a heap in the dirt, dark rivulets of blood flowing down the canyons of wrinkles in its pelt. Sasha hesitantly slid out and pushed himself up. He pulled a weed from his hair and circled the truck. The drone hovered at the ceiling of the cab, guns pointed out the shattered window.
Sasha crept to the creature. One side of its face was riddled with holes, purple tongue lolling from its great maw. He pushed at its chest with his bare foot, his toes sinking into soft fur.
“I killed a monster.”
He clutched his chest, the electric tingle of adrenaline buzzing through his fingers and heart. Poking his finger through the camera icon projected from his tablet, he snapped a photo of the dead thing with a shaking hand.
Blood puddled in the grass and vomit rose in Sasha’s throat. He put a hand over his mouth and sank to his knees. What am I doing? Taking pictures of monsters when the world is dead and dying. I should have just let that thing eat me. I deserve it.
He sat for a moment, his face in his hands, then sighed and stood up.
The truck was useless now. Tires were shredded, metal siding bit to ribbons. A clear liquid leaked from a hole near the wheel well.
“Irina, standby.”
The guns below the drone retracted. Sasha opened the door and pulled it out, kissing its front screen. “I couldn’t have killed that thing without you, baby. You follow me now. In stealth mode.”
The drone drifted to Sasha’s side, then dissipated, the black matte surface dissolving into nothing. He pulled out his bag and stuffed his tablet and the remaining food inside. He slung it over his back and hefted the water jugs.
“Let’s get out of here.”
4 ~ Dusty~
“Hey. You dead?”
Sasha opened his eyes as something jabbed him in the ribs. He was laying on the pavement, sweaty hair in his eyes, and someone was poking him with a stick. After shoving his hair away, he sat up. The stick-wielder was a young man, small in stature and slight in build. A deep scowl cut through his round, tanned face, and sweat glistened on his shorn head. A thick smear of eyeblack adorned his upper lids.
Sasha groaned. Spending two weeks sitting in an abandoned house, trying to convince himself the virus release wasn’t his fault, hadn’t helped at all. Now he wasn’t any closer to Hammerlink than before (maybe five kilometers), out of food, and lying in the road. Things weren’t looking up.
In American, he said, “How long I been lying here?” Sasha considered his English to be decent, but speaking American always sounded strange, and he was never sure if he was using the right words.
“I have no idea. What’s wrong with you?”
He pushed himself up, dusting off his shorts. “I have weak heart. I think I am passed out from walking too much.”
The guy made a noise and folded his arms, squaring his shoulders. “Are you a Boss? From the East? Did you get exiled? Only Bosses are as scrawny and pale as you.”
Several tee shirts and a solar tablet charger had fallen out of Sasha’s backpack. He stuffed them back in and shouldered the bag. “I was Boss, yes. But on West Coast. Not East. What is exiled?”
“Sent away and told not to return.” The guy’s eyes narrowed and drifted down Sasha’s torso.
This dude wants to kick my ass. “Eh, yes. That is what happened.”
“A Boss owned me once. Many years ago. He treated me decent, I guess, but I still smashed his head in with a hammer as soon as I got the chance.” He gave Sasha a sidelong glance. “How many people did you own?”
Sasha put up his hands. “Whoa, I didn’t own nobody. I was only boss of drones. You know them?” He spoke a command in Russian.
The drone materialized nearby. The man gasped and took a step back, then walked forward, circling it. He poked it with his finger.
“See? I used to fly this things. Not own people. Please do not hit me with hammer.”
He chuckled. “You’re not an Eastern Boss? From Hammerlink?”
“No. If Boss means slaver then that is not me. I killed slaver Boss. Shot him in the head. Saved lot of people.”
Another deep frown hardened the man’s face. “I don’t believe you.”
Sasha pulled his tablet from his bag. He ignored the many email notifications and selected the video of his Winter assassination. “Look. I did this with drone. That guy on stage? He is big bad guy. Big Boss.”
The guy leaned into the screen. Winter stood in the middle of a stage, cages behind him and several people on their knees before him. Below the stage, a sea of people—most of them Islanders from floating trash islands called the Soots—craned their necks toward their leader. A green circle appeared on the screen, bobbing for a moment before locking onto Winter’s head. As soon as gunshots barked through the speakers, the man took a step back, looking at Sasha with wide eyes, contempt washing away.
“Okay, I believe you. You have a lot of technology. That’s what I’m looking for. One part in particular. Maybe you have what I need and we can trade.”
It was hot in the direct sun, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. Sasha walked into the shade of nearby willow trees and sat, taking a long pull from his water jug. He splashed some on his face, then wiped it away with his shirt hem. “What is your name?”
“Dusty.” He walked into the shade, hands stuffed into ratty slacks with scuffed plastic knee pads sewn to the front. The cuffs were tucked into leather boots void of laces. He dropped a small knapsack into the grass.
“I am Sasha. But listen, Dusty, only technology I got is that drone and my tablet. I need both. Plus, you don’t look like you got anything to give me anyway.” He took another drink.
“Of course I do. Or does sleeping with a woman not interest you?”
Sasha choked on his water and it dribbled down his chin. He wiped his face. “Where you hiding womens, man? Your pocket?”
“I’m a woman! I meant me.” Dusty scowled. “I’m not attractive enough for you? Is that it?”
Sasha frowned, picking out new details he hadn’t noticed before. Big amber eyes, long brown lashes, a dainty silver bracelet on one thin wrist. Her baggy clothes hinted at curvy hips concealed beneath. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were guy. You look very tough for woman.”
Dusty sat next to him, her face suddenly delicate and coy, a slight curl on her lips. Her voice, before grainy and harsh, turned smoother, like fine sand. “I don’t have to be tough. You don’t think I’m cute?”
“I think you’re cute. I like womens of all kinds. And definitely ones who are shorter than me. Makes me feel tall.”
“Well… Do you want to trade, then? I give you a good time and you give me your drone?”
His eyes fell from the slight maple shimmer of fuzz on her head to the many skin-exposing holes in her tee shirt. “The drone is very special. There is no other kind like it. I’m not sure if it is fair trade. I killed big monster with it, couple weeks ago.”
“What kind of monster?”
He puffed up his chest. “It was huge beast. Cat-thing. Look, I have picture. You impressed?” Sasha clicked a picture on his tablet and held it out.
Dusty frowned. “You killed a corn kitten? That’s not very nice.”
“What you mean?”
She laughed. “It wasn’t going to eat you. They just like to play.”
“No. You don’t understand. Look, is huge monster. Had big teeth and claws. It tried to eat me and my truck. I had to kill it.”
Dusty didn’t call him an idiot, but her expression said it anyway. “Trust me, you would have been fine. It probably sniffed you, right? Licked you? Then you got scared and told the drone to shoot it?” She shook her head. “You’re really not from around here, huh?”
Sasha put the tablet in his pocket, stomach sinking. “No. So you telling me I killed harmless animal? Not scary monster?”
“Pretty much.”
He sighed and leaned his head against the tree, looking up through the slowly swaying willow vines. Sasha, killer of inno
cent creatures everywhere. I am disgusting. “Some adventurer I am. And ruined my truck for nothing.”
“Hey, don’t feel bad. I was scared of little dogs when I was a kid.” Sasha gave her a dirty look and she continued. “If the only things you need to fight are corn kittens, I’d say you don’t need the drone that badly.”
She climbed into his lap and put her arms around his neck. He raised his eyebrows and swallowed. Dusty twirled one of Sasha’s black waves around her finger, then slowly leaned in and smushed her full lips against his. He kissed back, drawing a hand down the back of her fuzzy head.
She pulled away. “You want more?”
“Yes, please.”
“Then I want your drone.”
“Um, you want to kiss me again while I think about it?”
“Okay, but you think about it too long and I’m going to take that for a yes, understand?” She kissed him again, tugging at his lip with her teeth.
He dropped his hands to her waist, then slid his fingers under the hem of her baggy shirt and up her back. Something gnawed at his conscience as he kissed her. He pulled away.
“This does not feel right. We are using each other.”
“So?”
“You don’t care?”
“No. I’ve got something you want; you’ve got something I want. Simple as that. We’re trading, okay?”
She leaned in to kiss him again and he turned his face away. “I don’t know… I don’t think I can trade you my drone. I need it. Maybe you just want to kiss me because I’m cute, yeah? I’m nice guy.”
Dusty laughed. “No. Sorry.” She took her arms from around his neck, but made no move to leave his lap.
Sasha squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, how do you know drone has part you are looking for anyway?”
She sighed. “I don’t. I’ve seen a lot of technology, but I don’t really know how any of it works. But you have more than anyone I’ve seen lately.”