Nuclear Rising

by Christian Smith

  As I turn around, I see a face appear at the curtain with a sad excuse for a mustache. “I have a message from Sargent Black – she says, and I quote ‘Tell the pretty boy up front to get his dumb ass back here so I can break his hand when I grab onto it.’ I’m guessing that’s you.”

  I nod and go back to one of my worst nightmares.

  Hospitals.

  Sick people.

  And shiny metal torture instruments.

  This was going to be worse than the time I got a bikini wax from a swarthy Swedish woman who smelled like corned beef.

  Of all the memories, that’s the one that comes back to me.

  ┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈┈

  My hand was already aching. Apparently I wasn’t the only one that hated doctors, or in this case, guys who were borderline Dr. Frankenstein’s.

  Brig lays on a metal operating table, wearing a white and blue gown as Jake and his father prepare several metal syringes on the other side. Across from us lays a man with dark hair, covered up with a blanket, resting from whatever I’m assuming they just did. Jake’s father is completely smooth bald on top, and stands about a foot over myself, a towering lanky sort of man with a good hunch from bending down so much. Wearing a stethoscope across his chest, square brimmed glasses and a metal disc on his forehead for light, he looks like a doctor from about a hundred years ago.

  While he’s grumbling orders to his son Jake, Brig squeezes my hand.

  “Quinn,” she says, her long face drawn tight.

  I know it’s serious when she doesn’t call me la la or kid.

  “Yeah Brig,” I reply.

  “There’s something I need to tell you, about part of the reason we came here. I’m probably being a bit selfish by doing this but-“

  “Look, it’s totally fine about the leg and bringing us here – I’ll find Celeste sooner or later, so don’t worry.”

  She swallows and replies, “It’s not just the leg Quinn. I came back, had to come back that is, to find someone, to find…my wife. To find Helen.”

  I process for a couple seconds, then reply, “Wait, your wife? Your wife is Helen? As in lawfully married and what not? She’s here?”

  She tries to force a smile, but stays stone-faced, her eyes dark black. “Yes, she is. At least I think she’s still my wife, and I think she’s still here. But we haven’t seen each other for about two years.”

  “Wait!” I say it a little too loud, and receive a knowing look from Jake’s father. Whispering, I reply, “Two years, really? I mean I don’t have any room to talk since it’s been five years since I saw my fiancée.”

  Her eyes are glistening. “Two years ago I left the Sempers, and two years ago I had to leave her. We didn’t leave on the best terms either, but I still love her. I still care for her and I still want her to be happy. So I use that anger and resentment every time I fight – it motivates me to kill, to survive. I just hope she feels the same for me. That she misses me.”

  A tear streams down her cheek, splashing against the metal.

  I squeeze her hand, trying to smile back. “I can’t imagine she doesn’t miss you. With Celeste, I just want to look into her eyes, to be with her, to smell her hair one more time. I’m sure your wife must feel the same and more. If love can survive a nuclear holocaust, it can sure survive a couple years apart.”

  Her eyes flutter, and as she wipes a tear, Brig replies, “Thanks Quinn. But I need to tell you one more thing, about when I left.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “The reason why I had to leave was that I was ordered by the General himself to kill someone, to assassinate a child of one of the Terra tribe leaders. He stressed how important it was for our well-being, and that I was the one for the job.”

  “No way,” I reply. “What did you do? Did you do it?”

  Brig shakes her head. “I couldn’t – I mean, there’s never an excuse to kill a child, no matter how twisted the world gets. So I refused, but I went home later that night, and complained to Helen. I told her I was going to quit, leave the tribe, that she should come with me and we should become nomads together.”

  “And I’m guessing she didn’t want to do that?”

  “No,” Brig says darkly as Jake comes and feels her pulse on her wrist, and then turns back to record some numbers. Brig continues, though whispering this time. “In fact, she recorded me saying that. She even recorded me saying how I thought the General was going to meet an untimely death sometime soon if he wasn’t careful.”

  I inhale deeply, taking in everything. “What do you mean she recorded it?”

  “She used an old digital voice recorder that still had some batteries left in it – took it to the authorities because she really thought I had lost it. I mean, I had been complaining for months to her, but this time was different. The higher ups had already gotten to her, convinced her, maybe even brainwashed her into thinking I was a criminal, that I was going to take out the General myself, but I would never do that.”

  “And that’s what ended things for you two?”

  Brig looks away, another tear streaming down her cheek. “That night, some of the General’s personal guards showed up, ready to take me away in stocks to the Brass Prison, but I had been planning an escape for years, and I was out of the house before they could even knock the door down. I can still remember Helen’s face though as I slid out the cellar I had made. That look has forever haunted me.”

  I clear my throat, replying, “And that’s why you’re here again? To see if maybe, she feels the same?”

  Brig manages a tight smile and says, “Pretty much. Just one more time I’d like to see her face.” She lets out a short laugh. “Look at me – I’m pretty pathetic. Some tough military girl I am.”

  Smiling back, I reply, “Nah Brig. I’m just glad to see you’re human after all. Just let me get my phone real quick so I can record this moment.”

  She slaps my arm, and winces as she does so, reaching down for her leg as her face tenses up in pain.

  Between gritted teeth, she says, “Hurry doc – I think it’s spreading. It feels like fire moving up through me. It…ugh…it burns so bad!”

  Jake and his father turn around, springing into action, now wearing actual gloves and a mask.

  The doctor says, “Anesthetic please,” and Jake passes a large syringe that looks more like an injector for turkeys.

  Brig squeezes my hand, still staring up into my eyes.

  “Now this may sting a bit.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Hero

  Though I think about swatting away the syringe, I let Doc Manley and his son work.

  Jabbing it into her thigh, the thick brown solution in the top of the syringe starts to flow into her leg. I hear a breath from Brig, and she relaxes, laying her head back down on the table.

  Manley smiles, ingenuine and maybe even a little sinister. “There, that’s better now isn’t it Sargent Black? It’s amazing what a little cocaine and propofol, spiced with some tetrodotoxin will do.”

  “Wait,” I reply. “What now?”

  Doc Manley looks up at me behind his square glasses. “She’ll notice some paralysis in her leg – only temporary of course, but it’s very safe to her. As long as she doesn’t try to run away in the next two hours, we’ll be good.”

  Another thin smile. I reply, “Well, I guess that’s reassuring,” which it really wasn’t to me because I didn’t trust anyone nowadays. I grab Brig’s hand, and she looks back at me, a slight smirk flashing on her lips for a moment.

  “We will now start to remove the toxin, if you’ll just scoot over a bit, Jake.” Doc moves next to Brig’s feet, trading places with Jake, who sets a little device like a watch on her wrist, which immediately starts beeping in rhythm.

  “Heart checks out,” Jake says, still sounding like a pubescent boy with a mustache. “Pulse is 75, blood pressure normal.”

  “Very good, son,” Manley says, pulling out another syringe probably about twice as big as
the first one with a syrupy, purply liquid. “Now this one we call, Purple Haze, and it’s a fun one – you’ll see why in a minute.”

  A quick thrust, and he stabs the syringe into Brig’s foot, as my stomach somersaults, making me look away.

  “Everything good there, kid?” Brig asks, obviously not feeling anything.

  She must’ve seen the color drain out of my face. “Yep, ship-shape, ship-shape,” I reply, looking at the metal wall where a red circle sits.

  “Done with that,” I hear a muffled voice say and turn to look. Stifling a gasp, I see Brig’s leg completely purple to match the color of the liquid Manley put in. I give Brig a thumbs up and nod my head, but I can tell she’s onto me.

  Bringing out a large glass tube with two silver prongs on the end, Doc Manley speaks to me, saying, “Now this beauty is going to suck out the neutralized toxin, and in no time, our dear patient will be jumping hurdles again. We can thank the Mechanicus tribe for this gadget they so kindly donated to our raiding party.”

  Again, jabbing her foot with the prongs, my stomach leaps, and I purse my lips. The device begins filling up with the purple liquid, returning Brig’s leg to its normal dark hue, with a few patchy spots here and there.

  A quick glance at Brig and I know something isn’t right.

  Her eyes roll back into her head.

  A scream. My own.

  Beeps.

  Convulsions.

  “What going on?!” I yell at Doc Manley, who calmly stops and stares down at her, pulling his mask down.

  He doesn’t immediately reply, then says quietly, “She’s going into cardiac arrest. Some of the toxin must have leaked to her heart.”

  I knew that wasn’t good.

  “Well are you going to do something? Or just stand there?”

  More beeps sound from Brig’s wrist as her body twitches violently. Jake holds her down so she doesn’t roll off the table.

  Doc Manley just smiles, and I feel infuriated at how calm he is.

  “We’re just going to wait until-“

  The heart monitor stops beeping, instead just one continuous beep sounds, and Brig’s body lays still.

  She doesn’t move.

  I drop her hand that’s gone cold.

  Dead?

  Panic sets in.

  No.

  No…

  No……

  Suddenly Manley speaks, this time assertively to his son. “Now Jake, give her St. John’s War.”

  Jake grins beneath his mask, pulling out an even larger syringe if that’s possible, full of a concoction of swirling red liquid. Stabbing it directly into her chest where her heart is, he injects the liquid.

  I reach back for my rifle, but forget I had to leave it in the front. Anger courses through me as they nonchalantly mess with her body.

  My fist balls up. I didn’t need a gun.

  Doc Manley counts out, holding three fingers in the air toward me. “3…2…and 1…”

  On cue, Brig gasps, drawing in air, leaning up halfway off the table and lays back down, unconscious. The heart rate monitor on her wrist starts beeping at a normal rhythm.

  “What…” I mutter.

  Manley smiles at me, patting me on the shoulder. “Just a little reboot. Sorry about the theatrics there. Her body can take care of the small amount of toxin in her bloodstream, she just needed a little jump start with my own special blend of adrenaline.”

  I don’t know what to think. I still want to punch the guy.

  “So she’s fine?” I say, my mouth dry.

  “Sure,” Doc Manley replies, turning over to his tray where two syringes remain. “After one last treatment and several days rest, she’ll be just fine. But I did want to discuss one little matter with you, since you appear to somehow be connected to Brigadier General Josefina Elliott here.”

  He knew her name.

  I swallow hard.

  “Not sure what you’re talking about,” I reply.

  Manley pushes his glasses off the bridge of his nose. “Oh but you do, my friend. Elliott here is a blacklisted – sorry for the pun – but blacklisted member of tribe Semper. You see, I have to run a blood test before I start this procedure, and lo and behold, her name popped up in the system.”

  Drawing back, I reach for something to hit the guy with – now I really want to hit him, badly.

  “Yeah, so,” I say. “What do you want?”

  Calmly, Doc Manley replies, “Oh don’t be so drastic. I just wanted to discuss your terms of payment.”

  “Payment? We settled that already with your son.”

  “Well that was before I knew we had such a celebrity here today. You see, she’s wanted dead or alive, an agent of treason declared by the general himself, so that puts me in a little bit of a predicament.”

  “I’ll kill you.”

  “No you won’t,” Manley says, reaching for two syringes and turning around. “Because you need me. And here’s why. I have two syringes here – one good, one not so good for the Brigadier General. Only I know which one will be good for her. So you can either take your chances, try to kill me, and risk killing her. Or you can meet my terms, save her, and I’ll keep that doctor-patient confidentiality thing in mind and keep mum about our celebrity here. You two can go on your merry, stupid way doing whatever you were doing here.”

  I’m tempted for a second to take my chances.

  But I can’t do it – Brig is in this mess because of me.

  “Fine,” I say between gritted teeth. “What do you want? What are your terms?”

  Doc Manley claps his hands together. “Wonderful. I’m so overjoyed by your willingness to save your friend’s life. For terms, let’s see, Jake what do you think?”

  Jake looks thrilled to be included, and pipes up, “We can always do-“

  “Yes.” Manley chimes in, cutting his son off. “You’re exactly right. Excellent. Yes. Boy,” He says, glaring at me. “I need you to surprise me. I need something I can use for my work, something so valuable, it’d be worth at least a hundred pounds.”

  “A hundred pounds, dad?” Jake looks over in awe. “We’ve never-“

  “Shhh.” Manley shushes his son. “Hundred pounds or your friend will be delivered dead to the Sempers and I will collect my reward, which coincidentally is a hundred pounds as well. How convenient – either way, it’s going to be a wonderful day.”

  I grab my bag in the front, wishing Sledge and Rose were back so we could take these scam artists out. I think about pulling my rifle out, but I know my odds haven’t been so lucky, and risking Brig’s life for fifty percent odds probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

  Pulling my phone out of the bag, I hand it over to Doc Manley, who turns it over excitedly. I can hear him mutter, “Wow, charged and everything. I can’t believe it.”

  “We done then, doc?”

  A lump grows in my throat as I think about handing my only connection to life away.

  “This would get you about a quarter of the way.” Doc says, placing my phone back in my hand. “So if you’ve got something else, please enlighten me, because in about a half day this phone won’t be worth much other than maybe some of the components inside.”

  “You kidding me?” I say, infuriated. “You don’t have one of these. Take it and be happy – It’s worth more than you know.”

  “Yeah,” Manley says, squirting the syringe with green liquid in the air. “I guess you’d call me a practical sort of man. So if we’re done here, I’ll just continue with my work.”

  “Wait!” I say, reaching into my bag, feeling a large ball wrapped in a shirt. “I have something else.”

  I roll the gold nugget I’d taken from Farmer Claude’s safe, roughly the size of my balled fist, onto the table near Brig, who’s still completely out.

  Both Manley’s eyes grow two sizes.

  “We have a deal then?” I ask. “You could say it’s worth its weight in gold. Even for a practical man.”

  Doc reaches down for it, but I pick it
up before he has a chance. I say smugly, “You know, I think I’ll just hold onto it, just in case – Because if you try to kill me, or you try to kill her, you definitely won’t be getting this, and you definitely will be dead. Got it?”

  I bring out my rifle, and just for full effect, click it and aim it square at Jake, who stands frozen with fear.

  Doc Manley curves his thin lips up, and sets the syringe down that contains a dark blue liquid. He says, “You’re pretty shrewd for a boy, but I think we can make that work – Looks like we all win then. Well except that guy over there who lost an arm today!”

  Putting the rifle behind my back, I stare squarely through his glasses and reply, “I swear, if you hurt her one way or another, I will find you and your son even if you’re on the other side of the world and take this gold nugget and crush your nuts with it before I finish you off.”

  Manley’s smile disappears, and he nods.

  “She’ll need to stay here for at least another forty-eight hours while the serum works. If she’s moved before then, it could lead to paralysis, permanent nerve damage, or even death, so I do not recommend trying it.”

  “Got it,” I reply. “If you’ll excuse me then, I need to check on my friends and let them know our arrangement.”

  Needing fresh air, I take my things and step out into the narrow alleyway, which has mostly died down from the hustle and bustle a couple hours earlier. Twilight is beginning to settle in over the metal houses around me.

  I walk, almost aimlessly, hoping to run into Sledge or Rose.

  Really though, I feel lost.

  I don’t know how much time passes, but I suddenly realize I’ve walked into an alley just large enough for two people to walk down together. The sun has since dipped below the horizon, and a crescent moon sits high in the air. A row of houses made of iron line the dirt path, rust growing abundantly on their beams. A rocky cliff stands behind me, jutting straight up so the walkway is more of a slot canyon than anything. A sign halfway off its post says, “Midnight Alley,” nearby. Several basement entrances appear to head to less than savory joints, where I can hear men speaking loudly who sound like they’ve had plenty to drink, light flooding out of the cellars I’m walking by.