Downfall: The Deadlander Series (Book 1)

by Colin Sims

  Around noon, I stopped for a couple minutes to rest. I slowly chewed on some bread, occasionally checking my surroundings. It was then that I had a sort of vision, like a dream, yet I knew I was still awake. I didn’t know what brought it on, but it seemed as real as anything I’d ever seen.

  I was standing in a pristine, white hallway lined with gleaming white doors. There were no lights along the ceiling, but everything was bright, as if an ocean of florescence had once been trapped in there and could never leave. My feet were stuck to the floor, like they were buried in concrete. As I struggled to move, one of the doors swung open, releasing a flood of thick, black liquid into the hall. It came rushing for my feet and splattered against my shins as it rose higher on my legs. Yet somehow I could control it. I knew that if I focused on pushing it back—not with my hands, but with my mind—the oily liquid would go back to where it came from. And it did. But if I lost concentration, even for a second, it would come rushing back, sticking in little spots along the walls. I focused harder, until finally, the flood was pulled back through the door and I slammed it shut. The hallway was pristine and white again, and I snapped out of the vision, like waking from a nightmare.

  Yet once I did, I felt better. Like the insanity and the pain of the past day had been tucked away, safely out of sight. I knew it was still there, lurking behind that door, but for the moment it was under control. It had to be.

  I got up to head south, toward water.

  ***

  It was late afternoon by the time I spotted the river. My first thought was to sprint all the way to its banks and dunk my head in, which is exactly what I did.

  By the time I reached the water, I was so out of breath that I could only take short gulps between desperate gasps for air. Still, no water had ever tasted better, and for several minutes I drank until my stomach ached.

  Eventually, I’d had enough. Wiping my face, I fell flat on my back and stared up at the sky. There were heavy clouds rolling in from the south. It was going to rain. I just hoped it wouldn’t be that acidic stuff. From the looks of things, it probably wouldn’t start coming down for another hour or so. That gave me a little more time to find shelter. I scanned the area but there was nothing to be found.

  All I knew was that wherever I went, I had to keep the river in sight. My best hope for survival was to follow it, heading east. Eventually it would have to lead somewhere.

  I slowly got to my feet and started walking. I wanted to eat, but there wasn’t time. I walked for about ten minutes until I saw a cloud of dust swirling on the horizon. At first, I couldn’t tell what it was, but soon enough, I realized it was getting closer. I raised the M4 and lit up the holoscope. The object was showing trace bits of red, so I zoomed in. I fully expected to see a Slicer, but what I saw instead was somehow scarier. It was a truck.

  Deadlanders … I thought, lowering the rifle.

  I lay flat on my belly amidst some shrubs and made myself small. With any luck, they’d drive right by. I switched off the holoscope as I aimed straight ahead. Technically, the holographic screen wasn’t visible to someone coming toward it, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

  I waited, burrowing myself into the mud as much as possible. The M4 was my only chance if the truck stopped. I didn’t have any ammo, but the Deadlanders wouldn’t know that.

  At least a minute or two went by before I could hear the truck rumbling toward me. It couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards away and I prayed that whoever was behind the wheel wasn’t paying much attention.

  My heart nearly froze as the truck slowed to a complete stop. It was only thirty feet away and I could see it clearly. The exterior was rusted and grey, while makeshift metal shutters lined the front and side windows. Strange symbols were painted in dripping red along the armored paneling all the way back to the taillights.

  I stayed as still as possible, my finger resting on the trigger.

  The doors to the truck opened slowly, and the driver stepped out. He was followed by two more guys … and they were all looking directly at me.

  “What do we got here?” the driver called out. He looked to be middle-aged, with long, scraggily hair and a beard down to his chest. In his hand, he gripped a machete.

  “I have a gun,” I called back.

  All three of the men chuckled and looked at each other before turning back to me. “We can see that,” the machete man said with a grin. “Question is, you got any bullets?”

  I re-gripped the handle for emphasis. “You want to find out?”

  A second man, who was by far the fattest of the bunch, stepped forward and raised a handgun. “I got a powerful feelin’ he ain’t got no bullets, Clyde,” he told the driver.

  “I’m comin’ to that conclusion myself,” the third man, holding a rifle, said.

  I flipped on the holoscope. “Leave or I’ll shoot!” I double-tapped each man, setting him to green.

  “That’s a powerful threat.” Clyde chuckled as he took a few steps forward. He then looked at the other two men over his shoulder. “Tommy, yer with me. Jimmy, if the boy rabbits, you run him down in the truck. We takin ‘im back to Donaldstown.” He turned back to me and brought up a loopy piece of rope from his belt. “Get on over here, boy. We gonna be real gentle now.”

  I’d heard stories about the different factions of Deadlanders as a kid. There were Rovers, Outlaws, Settlers, and Pirates, but these guys—I had a sickening feeling—were the worst of the worst. Fleshers. Traffickers in human meat.

  “One more step and I’ll shoot!” I screamed, but I couldn’t keep the fear from my voice. I couldn’t believe I’d survived Boise only to be taken by a gang of cannibals.

  Clyde and Tommy stopped a few feet away from me. They both laughed before Clyde pointed his machete at my face and told me to stand up.

  I did as he said but then flipped the M4 around to use it like a club. Through clenched teeth, I told them to back off as menacingly as I could.

  “Now, now,” the fat one named Tommy said, aiming his gun at my face. “Thought you had bullets, boy.”

  I took a step back, bringing the rifle up to strike.

  Clyde smiled at me. The few teeth he had left were putrid yellow, while chunks of spittle caught in his wiry beard. “Jus’ put yer hands through these loops,” he said, nodding to the rope. “Don’t make no fuss.”

  I took another step back as they continued to advance. In a couple more steps, I’d be at the water’s edge. The river. It was my only option. There wasn’t much of a current, and I knew they’d catch me, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to jump for it.

  Fat Tommy glanced at the water. “Thinkin’ a takin’ a dip? I wouldn’t. We got a couple a real friendly dogs in that truck and—”

  Tommy dropped to his knees without saying another word. A jagged piece of metal, like some kind of knife, was sticking out of his forehead. A thin trickle of blood ran down his face, and he slumped to the ground, dead as a stone.

  “Jimmy!” Clyde shouted to the man still by the truck, and he leapt forward and grabbed my arm. “We got a sniper!”

  He punched me in the cheek with the handle of his machete and I thought my eyeball was going to pop out. I dropped the M4 as he twisted me around and put the long, bloodstained blade to my throat.

  “Shoot again and I’ll cut him!” he screamed into the empty wind. I couldn’t see anyone anywhere. Jimmy had started up the truck with a loud rumble and began barreling towards us. “Fire and I swear I’ll c—”

  There was a faint whizzing sound before Clyde went silent and fell to the ground clutching his throat. It was bubbling and spurting blood as he writhed in the dirt.

  I ran and dove into the water as the truck pulled up. When I surfaced, I saw the driver looking at me through the shuttered window. Without warning, the tires kicked up a cloud of dust as he gunned the accelerator. Right before he did, there was another whizzing sound and a metal blade clinked against the roof of the truck. No more than five seconds later the cab o
f the truck exploded.

  I ducked under the water and swam as hard as I could. It only seemed logical I was the next target. The image of machete-wielding Clyde clenching his bloody throat twisted my stomach into knots.

  I held my breath till the point of drowning before I inched my face above the surface and gasped for air. I couldn’t help but take several breaths before going back under.

  I did this for several minutes, though it felt like an eternity. I doubted I’d gone more than fifty yards, but my muscles were like jelly. I couldn’t keep going. My only chance was to stop and stay hidden as best I could. I came up for air, gasping for each breath. I whirled around to see if anyone was there.

  There was.

  On the banks of the river—looking right at me—was a tall, black-haired girl.

  Her face was scrunched, like she was puzzled. “What are you doing?” she asked me from across the water. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was almost a trace of laughter in her voice.

  I just stared. She was dressed all in black and looked about my age. Maybe younger. And yet, something about her made it very clear; she wasn’t from a city like me. She was a Deadlander.

  ***

  “You’re not a very good swimmer,” she called out from the banks. “You should really get out before you drown.”

  I stayed right where I was, wondering if I had enough energy to swim any farther.

  “Seriously,” she added. “It’s gonna be dark soon. There’s eels.”

  Eels?

  That was all it took. I never liked swimming and I never liked snakes. Eels were the best of both worlds. I immediately swam toward her and scrambled out of the water. Only when I was keeled over with my hands on my knees and trying to catch my breath, did I realize I should’ve swam to the other side.

  The girl reached to her back and unsheathed a long samurai sword. I jumped back, nearly falling over, and reached for my pocketknife.

  “Whoa, easy there,” she said, taking a step back herself. “Come on, it’d totally suck if I had to kill you right after saving you.”

  “You what?” I asked, still coughing and gasping for air.

  “Yeah,” she said quickly. “Those dead guys over there, that was me. You wanna come check ‘em out? They might have some cool stuff …”

  With that, she marched past me and motioned for me to follow.

  I stood for a moment in a daze, then wheeled around and caught up to her.

  “You killed those guys?” I asked.

  She shrugged as she looked over at me. “They were assholes. You know they would’ve eaten you, right? I mean, how gross is that? I can understand wanting to eat meat now and then, who doesn’t? But eating people? That’s disgusting.”

  I couldn’t help but stare at her as we walked. “Who are you?”

  “I’m a scout for Oldstown,” she said without breaking stride. “I’d been tracking those jerks for almost a week—at least until I started tracking you.”

  “You were what?”

  “Tracking you,” she answered, then stopped and turned to me. “Look,” she said seriously. “Normally I don’t pick up lost little Wallers like you, it’s way too much hassle, but I know you’re from Boise and I saw what happened there, so I figured you could use a break. I’m Samireh, by the way,” and she turned and kept walking.

  I caught back up to her as we arrived at the miniature massacre of the former Fleshers.

  “You’re going to need a gun,” Samireh told me, bending down to pick up Fat Tommy’s pistol. She handed it to me and said, “I know it’s a little bloody and everything, but you’re gonna want his jacket too. It gets cold.”

  “You don’t want the gun?” I asked, turning it over in my hands. It was heavily scratched, but looked solid. A Glock 17 with designator and holoscope.

  Samireh scrunched her face. “No way. I never use guns.”

  “But …” I glanced at her. “What did you use against these guys?”

  The girl looked at me like I was stupid. “Throwing stars, what else?” She bent over and yanked one out of Tommy’s forehead.

  “I make them myself,” she added proudly. “See, there’s this little explosive in the center. That’s how I blew up the truck. Speaking of which …”

  She hopped toward the smoking remains of the pickup. Most of the body was still intact, just minus the cab. Hesitantly, I crouched down to take Tommy’s jacket. It was sturdy brown leather and, like the gun, was scratched and scuffed, yet solid. I felt bad taking it, even though a minute ago its owner wanted to kill me.

  I looked over at Samireh who had jumped onto the bed of the truck and was rummaging through some bags. I returned my attention to Tommy. In the pocket of his jacket were two extra magazines for the Glock. I was surprised to see that the rounds were Seekers. How in the world could a Deadlander get bullets like that? The technology should have been way too hard to duplicate out here. But then again, Alec always told me the Deadlanders were constantly trying to improve their tech, just like we were.

  I looked up as I heard Samireh trotting back to me. I was glad to see she had sheathed the katana, though I noticed there was something off about the way it hung on her shoulder. All I could see was the handle but not the blade. It must have been some kind of trick.

  “Got a canteen for you,” she announced, crouching next to me. “It’s full but I wouldn’t trust it. We should really go. It’s going to rain soon.”

  I looked at her as I took it. “Go where? There’s nothing in every direction.”

  She grimaced. “You’re kidding, right? There’re rabbit holes all around here.”

  “Rabbit what?”

  “Holes,” Samireh said, standing back up. “When there’s nothing up and nothing around, look down.” She started walking and added, “You coming?”

  I got back to my feet. “What about them?” I asked, motioning to the bodies. “Shouldn’t we bury them or something?”

  Samireh kept walking as she said, “Why in the world would we do that? But you can feed them to the eels if you like.”

  I looked between the bodies and the river. “Should I?” I asked, confused.

  “There aren’t any eels, dummy,” Samireh called back. She was steadily getting farther away.

  Grabbing my pack, I stepped to the river and quickly filled the canteen before catching up with her. “So where are we going?” I asked.

  “Underground. There are Clicker tunnels all around this place.”

  “There are what tunnels?”

  “Clicker tunnels. It’s like they have this whole underground thing going on. It’s nuts.”

  I looked at her again in confusion. “What are Clickers?”

  “What are Clickers?” she asked back. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe the aliens that invaded Earth or something? Jeez, what were you doing behind that wall?”

  Chapter 8

  I followed Samireh away from the river up a barren mountainside. She walked as quietly as a cat, yet incredibly fast. I practically had to jog to keep up with her, and even then I was consistently walking a pace or two behind. I didn’t mind so much, though.

  There are some things a guy can’t help but notice, no matter the circumstances, and a girl with a nice figure is one of them. She was tall, probably an inch or two taller than me, with a lean, athletic frame and long dark hair that fell midway down her back. Her jet-black clothes hugged her perfectly, and there was something about the way her hips swayed that made it hard to look anywhere else.

  We’d been hiking for nearly twenty minutes before she broke the silence. “It’s up ahead, see it?”

  I didn’t see anything. “What is?”

  “The rabbit hole,” she answered. “It’s going to rain any second, though. We better run.” And so she started running and it started raining.

  A couple minutes later, she stopped abruptly and pulled out her katana. From the corner of my eye, I caught a slight spark when she produced the blade, but when I looked right at her, it was gone.<
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  “Here it is,” she announced, pointing to a small hole in the steep upslope of the mountain. The rain was starting to come down, and every drop stung when it touched my skin. It was that slightly irradiated stuff that fell sometimes. It wasn’t deadly or anything, but back in Boise, the sirens would go off before it even began, and everyone would wait it out indoors.

  “I’ll go first,” Samireh stated and then dove straight into the hole headfirst.

  “Come on,” I heard her call out a second later. “It’s dry in here.”

  I crouched down and cautiously crawled inside. I was immediately surprised to see that the small, nondescript hole led to a wide, cavernous tunnel. Once I pulled my feet through, I could easily stand up with room to spare.

  “Nice, right?” Samireh smiled, then trotted into the darkness until I couldn’t see her anymore.

  “Where are you going?” I strained my eyes to see after her.

  “Just hold on,” her voice echoed back.

  I took a moment to look around and reached out to touch the walls. They felt weird, like they were formed from dirt but were as hard as concrete. There wasn’t much light coming from the tiny entrance, since it was already getting dark, but from what I could see, the packed earth looked frozen. I got the sinking feeling that whatever tech was used to dig this tunnel, it wasn’t manmade.

  Samireh re-emerged from the darkness carrying a hefty bundle of wood. “I stash some here and there,” she explained. “You got any food in that bag or what?”

  Jolted back to attention, I swung off the pack and kneeled. “I’ve got some stuff,” I said, working open the zipper. “Some bread, bananas, beans. That’s about it.”