Dark Souls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller: Book 1 (Ravaged World)

by Sam J Fires

  Lea looked like she was about to say something, but Vincent shut her up with a look, so Lea settled for sending a dirty look Audrey’s way when her back was turned. She jumped off the horse and they trudged through the sand.

  Up ahead was what looked like a large tent, the kind that Lea had seen in pictures of circuses. As they got closer, Lea noticed that rather than being fastened to the ground through straps, they were held in place by burly men, grunting from the physical strain. Audrey turned to Lea and Vincent and quipped, “I swear, as strong as these bastards are, I keep expecting them to take off one day.”

  Inside the tent, Lea could see several fold-up tables, some of which displayed a series of weapons that looked like random pieces of machinery clobbered together.

  There was a clunking in the distance. “Ah, this should be your guy,” announced Audrey.

  At the edge of the tent was a robot. At least the clunky outline gave the impression of a robot, but as Lea moved closer, she could see there was a man, a man covered from head to toe in body armor, with only his head visible. He came over towards Audrey, Jimmy, Vincent, and Lea. “This is Blazer,'' said Audrey. “Our tech-guru. He’s responsible for creating all our weaponry for us to sell on. He’s a genius when it comes to designing and creating weapons. He could make a lethal weapon from a kid’s toy. The Blazer thinks it's better to take his workshop with him wherever he goes.”

  The Blazer stopped before Audrey and studied the group before him. “So, what are you buying today, people?” He detached what looked like a gun from his hip with little difficulty and held it up. “I’ve got a nice little contraption for roasting your enemies…” he let loose a stream of fire, prompting the party to duck for cover, “…or cooking dinner, whatever tickles your fancy.”

  “These people aren’t in the buying business,” said Audrey.

  “Oh,” said the Blazer, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

  “No, they’re more interested in your current client list. Whether you’ve sold to anybody suspicious lately, and if you have any records that would be of any use?”

  The Blazer raised an eyebrow. “Kiddo. We’re a private military group. Everyone we sell to could be suspicious. As for records, what exactly are you expecting? A name and return address? Maybe I could just load up my laptop and find out?” Dropping the act, he continued, “My business operates entirely on a need-to-know basis, and I don’t need to know who is planning what. But, as it’s Audrey who’s asking, I will say this: there was a guy who did seem overly keen. He was wanting the best I could offer, but the most interesting thing about him was that he paid in cash. Not the crummy points system Travis has in place, but actual cash. I never thought I’d see a dollar again in my life. So, for the money he was offering me, I sold him one of my finest portable flame-throwers.” He then gestured to a small device mounted on his right forearm. “Fits on the wrist. Some jumped-up shit tries to kill you. A quick squeeze of the trigger…” He gestured as such, revealing a burst of flame emitting from the wrist. Lea, Vincent, and Audrey stepped back from the sudden wave of heat, “…and your opponent is turned into a human barbecue.”

  “Who was it that you sold it to?” asked Vincent.

  The Blazer looked at Audrey. “You’re okay with me disclosing this to them?”

  “I don’t have a problem with it,” exclaimed Audrey. “It’s okay, you can tell them.”

  The Blazer grunted in reluctant agreement. “Okay. It was about two weeks ago. I met him in one of the city districts.” Noticing Vincent’s death glare, the Blazer protested, “Look, Travis hadn’t expanded to that territory yet, so I figured, what was the harm?

  “He was very insistent, keen to give me the dollar bills. Wrapped up in rubber bands, they were. Who was I to disappoint him? He also knew how to sweeten the deal, bless him, so he gave me a little trinket.” He reached into his pocket, a task made nigh-impossible due to the mini-arsenal going down his arm, and took out a small, hand-sized object. It looked like a speaker that had been ripped out, thin wires dangling around it.

  “Are you going to tell us what it is, or are we supposed to guess?” asked Lea impatiently.

  “This is a speaker taken from one of the suits worn by the first batch of survivors, recovered from the sanctuary.”

  Lea and Vincent exchanged a look. Lea reached out to touch it, only for the Blazer to snatch it away. “Ah, ah, ah, this is mine. I need payment for services rendered.”

  Lea was about to jump into a lecture about how ‘services rendered’ had led to an innocent man being killed graphically and horrifically but imagined it would make little difference to these people, jaded as they were.

  “Can you tell us anything else about this guy you sold your merchandise to?”

  “Sure,” said the Blazer accommodatingly. “White guy, big build, tall, blond hair, and he was wearing a suit that seemed to have been kept in surprisingly good condition considering the climate we’re in. He struck me as one of those smarmy ‘shits in suits’ type of people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been a Wall Street banker in his past life.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell us? Like how he was able to transport it?”

  “He didn’t need to transport it. He was based out of the same place I got my gear, the sanctuary.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” exclaimed Vincent. “That place has been deserted for years.”

  “I thought that too,” said the Blazer. “But he’s turned it into a nice little nest for himself.”

  “Wait,” started Lea. “If he’s based at the sanctuary, why would he need you? Why not just get the gear himself?”

  Blazer rolled his eyes as if he were speaking to a child. “My client is many things. An expert in engineering, he is not.

  “This gear is hand-crafted by yours truly—”

  Audrey interjected. “Blazer is one of the few people still alive today who can take old technology and revamp it into new.”

  “Well, at least we’ll all know who to point the finger at if it all goes down the toilet,” said Lea.

  Satisfied that they weren’t going to get anything more out of him, Lea and Vincent turned to go. “Sure I can’t interest either of you in some weapons?” he offered.

  “Maybe next time,” said Vincent. He shook hands with Audrey. “Thanks for your help, Audrey.”

  “No problem, it was good seeing you again, Vincent,” she said warmly, before turning to Lea. “And as for you…if you ever get tired of making yourself available at Travis’s beck and call, we could always use a soldier like you.”

  Lea scoffed. “Seriously? You’re not bothered that I turned one of your boys into a human cactus?”

  Audrey shrugged. “He was careless. Besides, these days, it’s very easy to find yourself on the dying side.”

  CHAPTER 12 - TRAVIS

  When Lea and Vincent arrived back at the Block, there was a crowd of onlookers gathered outside. Lea pushed through the crowds, trying to see what everyone was gapping at.

  When she finally saw it, she immediately regretted looking at the macabre spectacle. The sight would haunt her for years to come. A woman was lying on the ground with multiple puncture wounds all over her body. There were thick chunks of unevenly shaped glass protruding out of the wounds. Most grotesque of all was a large glass structure protruding from her mouth. It was hard to tell if she’d choked on it before dying.

  Travis was standing over the body, completely shell-shocked.

  “I’d known Sophie for years. She was behind me every step of the way.” He rose to his full height, his face a mask of anguish. “It’s all my fault. She wanted more protection, but I thought she was overreacting—”

  “You can’t blame yourself for this,” said Vincent. “This freak of nature is doing this on our land because he’s trying to muscle in on our territory. He wants us to know that he can get to us anywhere, no matter what, and…he probably wants to show you up. This little bit of theater he’s trying to get acr
oss is that you aren’t fit to protect us—”

  “That’s bullshit,” interrupted Lea, “and you know it.”

  “I’m not saying I agree with it,” grumbled Vincent. “I’m just trying to understand his twisted point of view.”

  “The only view I understand is he needs to be put down ASAP.” Lea walked over to Travis, trying to motion for him to move away from the body. “We can mourn Sophie when the Sculptor’s in the ground. Right now, we have some information to share. Unless you want me divulging this before a captive audience, I suggest we go somewhere private.”

  *

  Lea and Vincent followed Travis as he walked out into his roof garden.

  “The sanctuary?” asked Travis. He rubbed his eyes with both hands, covering his face, and took a deep breath. He was trying to get over the shock of seeing one of his residents brutally mutilated. Lea wondered how much horror a man needed to witness before he was completely desensitized to the darker recesses of human behavior. “You’re serious?” Travis was now tending to his plants. He didn’t turn to face Lea and Vincent, but they could detect the direness in his voice.

  “The lead didn’t strike me as the kind who was into windups,” exclaimed Vincent.

  “I’m surprised that Audrey was so accommodating,” said Travis.

  “She probably wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t been there,” said Vincent, pointing to Lea. “She almost got us killed when she knocked off one of theirs.”

  At hearing this, Travis turned his attention away from a flower that was now past its best. He looked Lea up and down, taking in this latest victory. “Bravo, Lea,” said Travis, clapping his hands. Vincent seemed a little indignant about the celebratory mood over the killing of one of his old comrades, but he knew better than to challenge Travis.

  “So, what’s our next plan of attack?” asked Lea, eager like a kid waiting to go to the zoo. Vincent found her eagerness to jump back into a life-or-death situation disconcerting. “The murderer may still be hiding out at the sanctuary, but it’s not certain. Let’s face it, he could be anywhere.”

  “I don’t get why we don’t just go door-to-door around Travistown,” suggested Vincent. “Someone’s got to know something.”

  Travis shook his head. “If we do that, then not only could it look like we’re pointing fingers, but we’re also raising the alarm and scaring the public unnecessarily.”

  “The concern is touching,” said Vincent neutrally, although the sarcasm was not lost on Travis. He suspected that the lack of a door-to-door approach was less out of concern for the public and more about not giving the impression Travis couldn’t maintain control in his town.

  “Given the materials the bastard was making use of, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to hide them under my nose,” Travis said. Vincent was tempted to retort with, he had zero problems with killing under your nose, but didn’t.

  “The entire complex has been abandoned for several years now, so it’s not like you’re going to have to work your way through an endless stream of suspects. The only people who are likely to be hiding out there are traitors or racketeers. I’ve not been down there for a while so I’ve no way of knowing what the conditions are going to be like. For all I know, some hobos are using the facilities as a toilet.”

  “So, do we take any people down with us?” asked Lea.

  “No,” said Travis sternly. “I don’t want to send an entire army after what is essentially one man. You guys have already done exceptional work in tracking this guy so far, so I’m sure I can trust you both to see it through to the end.”

  “Sure, we can do that,” confirmed Lea, eager to play the role of teacher’s pet.

  “Good. The sooner we can wrap up this sorry saga, the better. For Morgan and Sophie.” He then gave a wave of the hand, dismissing the two.

  Travis enjoyed half an hour of peace before there was a knock on his door again. The Professor walked into Travis’s apartment. Unlike the previous two, Travis made sure to give the man his full attention.

  “How’s our little project going?”

  The Professor shrugged. “It’s coming along nicely. We’ve cultivated a significant supply, which is incredible considering we’ve been operating out of a room that hundreds of people pass by every day. If we were to up the scale of the operation, we’ll need to move to a more clandestine facility.”

  “Leave that to me,” said Travis. “I think I’ve found the perfect place and I’ve already started to have it cleared out. What I want to know is when we can start distribution?”

  The Professor’s smiling face faltered. “What?”

  “I’m serious. Time is of the essence. We need to mobilize, and we need to start deploying the stash.”

  “I…” The Professor stammered, trying to find the right words. “I thought we were waiting for some instability.”

  Travis sighed. “Well, yes, that was the original plan…until I found out today that Lea had killed one of the Gun Runners.”

  “Dammit. That complicates things somewhat.”

  “Yes, that was my thought too, though I couldn’t say that in front of her. Amazingly, they let her walk out of there in one piece. I don’t think they would have done that if I hadn’t sent Vincent with her.

  “But knowing Audrey as I do, she holds grudges. I’m guessing we have up to a month before the buzzards start circling. We’re going to need to send them a little peace offering. Something to placate them.”

  The Professor didn’t like the direction this conversation was heading, but he knew he needed to keep quiet. He also had people who were depending on him, and he had to keep doing what he was doing.

  “So, does that mean we’re targeting the Gun Runners next?”

  Travis laughed. “God, no. That’d be like bringing the war to our doorstep. No, the mechanics are not in place yet. We need somewhere that will be easy pickings like say…the Clinic.”

  The Professor went white.

  “You’ve gone mute. What’s the matter, Prof?”

  “You think the Clinic’s the best place to target? I mean, the place is wide open.”

  “Exactly. Which means we’ll be facing very little in the way of resistance.” Travis studied the Professor’s face. The Professor was wondering if Travis had misunderstood the situation.

  “You seem apprehensive. Maybe you can elaborate?” asked Travis.

  “You talk about taking the fight to the Gun Runners, that’s one thing. But taking this shit to the Clinic? That would be like lambs to the slaughter—”

  Travis sighed. He knew he should’ve expected some defiance. “I get it. You feel that we’re taking this a step too far? That we’ve got the wrong people in our sights? A stronghold is only as strong as its weakest link. And so far, what has this place contributed to Travistown? Nothing, so far as I can see. I can’t think of a single reason not to make use of it.” Noticing the Professor’s continuing discomfort, he continued, “Don’t think of it as using them as sacrificial lambs. Think of this as their initiation, the chance for them to prove their merit.”

  “I’m sure they’re going to feel the same way,” quipped the Professor derisively before he had a chance to check himself.

  Travis didn’t raise his voice. That was the worst part. It would have been better if he had. “I recognize this is a precarious position I’m putting you in. Asking you to do something that might not agree with your principles. Naturally, I encourage people to question my motives from time to time. But… I do expect you to give me the chance to enlighten you from my point of view. I’ve kept an entire city’s worth of people alive. So far, we’re looking at just over four thousand. I got us up to more than four thousand people and I’ll get us even further. I’m the one who must carry the burden of all the crappy decisions, so you don’t have to. So, a little gratitude is in order. I’ll put that down to stress. Only once. Only once can I or shall I let you get away with any disrespect.”

  The Professor took that second chance with the silent proclama
tion that there wouldn’t be a third.

  CHAPTER 13 - TRAVIS

  Four years earlier.

  The day Los Angeles had ceased to exist was the first time since the storms started that anyone had been in anything resembling a celebratory mood. The streets filled with crowds, loved ones huddled together, and strangers assumed there was safety in numbers.

  Attendance on that day was mandatory. Every survivor within the city had been told to be at this location on this day at this time. No one had failed to turn up. Partly because it wasn’t as if they had anything better to do, but also because they didn’t want to find out the consequences of saying ‘no’.

  It was raining that day. This was a delight for the people of LA to see. Many had even started to forget what rain looked like. Some had shied away from the droplets, convinced that it was acid rain, but the lack of any visible dissolving convinced the citizens that it was safe.

  A makeshift podium had been moved in front of the old city hall. A man was standing next to the podium, wearing an ill-fitting suit as though he was operating under the mistaken belief that a formal dress code still existed in post-apocalyptic times.

  No one had yet seen who would be delivering the speech, except for a few people, one of them being a mother who had wandered out into a storm to find her two children. The three would have almost certainly perished without the speaker’s help. She’d been one of the main promoters of the event, telling people to get to the center of LA for an event nobody would forget.

  Everyone in the audience had been fitted with special suits that allowed for communication via an intercom system. No one was supposed to miss a word of this.

  Some people were conscious of how long the talk could go on in the event of a storm, but they knew that leaving early would not be an option, so they clung to the hope that their special suits would provide the protection they needed.