Ruins of the Fall (The Remants Trilogy #2)

by Nicholas Erik

  Then again, in HIVE, it barely rained in Seattle. Everything was just a little too good to be real.

  The aroma of torched metal rides on the gentle breeze. I shiver and turn to go inside. If I’m gonna wait to die, might as well do it beneath a roof

  Before I can reach the entry door, an electric-like surge courses through my nerve endings. I drop to one knee, eyes clamped shut. The Space Needle floats into view followed by a huge dog. Evelyn’s deep, endless brown eyes stare back at me, mirthful, smiling, waiting for me to kiss her.

  I scramble backwards and fall into the dust, trying to blink everything away.

  “What the hell?” The sensation is like being drunk, but I haven’t taken anything. I try to stumble to my feet, but nothing works right. Instead, I kneel in the ruined soil, the world spinning.

  “Don’t let Ramses get too far,” I hear. “He’ll go in the street.”

  The dog lumbers forward, away from the grass. I feel my body lifted upwards, and I’m running, running, running, chasing down this annoying pet of mine—of ours, that belongs to me and Evelyn. I have to go home, get groceries. Make sure I don’t get a ticket.

  The scene disappears, and I’m back in the dust, sweating like crazy.

  I dig my knuckles into the cracked earth until the rough surface tears into my skin. It’d be nice if this was enough to tether me to reality, but it isn’t.

  This time, I’m taken to a much nastier looking world. This memory doesn’t belong to me, though. Almost like I’m looking over someone’s shoulder. I recognize the trappings of the Western Stronghold, pre-Yellowstone eruption, pre-quake.

  The person’s hand brushes off a sign.

  GIFTED MINDS RESEARCH INSTITUTE, WESTERN DIVISION

  Then the person whispers, and I hear Matt’s voice, “If anything happens, here’s the failsafe.”

  When the scene evaporates around me, I topple into the dirt. The cold whips against my skin, but I’m not shaking because of the wind chill.

  I’m shaking because I’m losing my fucking mind.

  A minute later, an hour, a day—hell if I know—I feel a sharp toed boot in my ribs. I manage to get one of my eyes open, but I don’t trust anything. That’s what happens when you’ve been conned—by people, by the system, by a computer program. You develop serious trust issues.

  “No,” I say, pushing the boot away. “You’re not real.”

  “Like fuck I’m not real,” Jana says, and this time she kicks me. The pain is nasty enough that I believe her. I grunt, trying to catch my breath. “The hell are you doing, Luke?”

  “Getting a tan,” I say. “After all that time in HIVE, I’m pasty as hell.”

  Her eyes glow with a radioactive annoyance that tells me to get it together. I can’t be sure, but I feel that she was less serious three years ago. And more talkative. Although that might just be circumstance.

  “You were screaming,” Jana says. “You trying to get the wolves on us?”

  “Actual wolves?”

  “That’s not a metaphor, no.”

  I swing my head around to scan the landscape. We’re still alone, with the Hyperloop platform in the distance and the uninviting execution chamber a stone’s throw away.

  “I’m not going in there.”

  “No one wants you inside. You sound like you’re dying. Worse.”

  “Help me up,” I say, flailing my arm out, still disoriented. She doesn’t give me a hand, but I manage to get up anyway. My jeans and thin shirt cling to my skin like I’ve just been submerged in a pool of water.

  After I’m sure that I won’t fall over if I try to walk, I lean into Jana’s ear. “I saw something.”

  “I bet you did.”

  “Listen to me,” I say between gritted teeth, the hiss and venom of the words making her eyes stand bolt open. “I mean I saw something that can save our asses. End things.”

  The hum of a motor on the horizon cuts our little détente short. Jana raises her rifle and peers through the scope. Then she nods.

  “It’s a messenger,” she says, walking away. “We stick with the plan.”

  “What’s that,” I yell after her.

  “You’ll be the last to know once we start moving,” she says.

  I give her the finger as she sprints across the empty plains to greet the coming bike.

  HIVE or not, it’s the same as it’s always been.

  I’m on my goddamn own.

  4 | Bluffs

  I’m not cuffed again, but that’s the only thing I actually like about this new plan. But I’m willing to admit that my reticence is largely due to ignorance. True to her word, Jana has made me the last to know anything.

  An hour after the messenger arrived, a fleet of diesel cargo trucks came to pick up the majority of the Remnants. I gave a quick goodbye to Carina and Evelyn, neither of whom seemed particularly put out about our separation.

  Then again, their association with me was the reason why they lost three years of their prime years. So I can’t blame them. If you date an asshole in your twenties as a woman, you’re trading diamonds for empty promises.

  But there’s no time for guilt, because I’m too busy trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Eight soldiers—along with me and Jana—are headed out in our own truck in a different direction than the others.

  The asshole guard who shoved me off the Hyperloop, much to my joy, remains present.

  “Where we headed?”

  “Children should be seen and not heard,” he says. The other Rems get a kick out of this.

  “Then why the fuck are you talking?”

  I see his broad hands tighten around the stock of his rifle. I brace for a shot to the temple, but apparently my value has increased over the past few hours. The back of the truck goes quiet.

  “You got a name?” I say, after a long and awkward silence that’s somehow worse than having a discussion.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “Care to share?” I say. “Since we’re working together.”

  “We ain’t working together.” He spits on the ground, narrowly missing my boot. “Mirko.” The loose rags covering his body don’t allow me to see his face or many of his features, but I can tell he’s a big bastard.

  Mean, too, if his gruff voice is any indication.

  “You’re a friendly guy.” I lean back against the stiff back, my hair touching the canvas. “So I guess Jana wasn’t kidding.”

  “Shuddup,” Mirko says.

  The truck stops. “We there?” I peek out the small tear in the canvas, but the dark night gives me no clues. “Come on.”

  I hear Jana say, “Luke, get your ass out here.”

  Mirko smirks. I can see it in his eyes, the way they squeeze closer together. “Better listen to the boss lady.”

  “Yeah, I can see why she’s not asking for you,” I say. When I get up and pass him, I deftly hop over his foot, spying it just in time. Definitely not making any new friends.

  The cold hits me like a lash when I jump down from the cargo bed. From what I can tell, we might as well be in the same spot we left. The only difference is that no sign of civilization is present within what looks like a million miles. Can’t say I miss the execution chamber, though.

  “Nice place,” I say.

  “What’d you see?” Jana says, kicking rocks with her boot. Despite the cold, she’s not bundled up. Her hair moves ever so gently in the harsh winds. Mine is battered all over the place.

  “Nothing, since I’ve been in the backseat with the brain trust—”

  “You have a minute before we gotta move on,” Jana says. “This goes one of two ways.”

  “That so?” I walk around the front of the truck, and find that we’re at a literal fork in the road. One is an exit, headed off towards Nashville. The other path is unlabeled and continues on and on. I have no idea which is the right way.

  “Thirty seconds.”

  “Jesus, all right.” My mind starts spinning. Do I know anything for sure? No. I m
ight be batshit insane. Who knows what prolonged exposure to computer software that, for all intents and purposes, was never meant to be used, can do? It wasn’t like Matt performed extensive beta tests on HIVE before Olivia Redmond shot him in the head.

  Then again, if I don’t offer something, then there is no next play. It all ends here. If I get caught wearing no clothes later on, what does it matter? I’m in the same spot I always was.

  “Ten.”

  “Gifted Minds,” I say. “You heard of it?”

  “No. Five.”

  “You skipped a lot of numbers there.”

  “Last chance,” Jana says. Her fingers creep towards the flowing nomadic garb.

  “My brother created HIVE and he was part of Gifted Minds and there’s a division of the program out West that no one really knows about, far as I can tell, where he put a failsafe that might be able to save your ass.” It all comes out as a long string of words, so rapid that I have to breathe really fast to catch my breath at the end.

  Jana doesn’t reply. I take it as a good sign that the count doesn’t reach zero.

  Finally, she says, “Failsafe?”

  “Yeah. Shut the whole thing down,” I say. “It’s your only real play.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Think about it. You said it yourself—everyone’s afraid of the Remnants. You’re different. You’ll never be allowed a seat at the table.” I swallow hard, the cold air cracking against my dry throat. “They’ll hunt you down unless you hunt them first.”

  There’s a long silence, and I think I might’ve pressed too hard. Then she says, “You ride up front with me.”

  “Uh, great.” I follow her to the truck and climb into the passenger side. “So, you gonna tell me what the first option was?”

  “I was going to take you straight to Vlad.”

  “And what was he going to do?”

  Jana adjusts the rearview mirror and glances over before revving the engine. “Since he can’t trade you any more, I’d expect he’d make an example out of you.”

  “And what’s option two?”

  “You’ll find out,” Jana says. The door slams, and the engine crackles to life.

  My throat is gritty with dust when I swallow.

  I’ve staved off execution this time, but the truth looms, clear as anything.

  If I don’t escape the Remnants, it’s going to be a short-lived respite.

  5 | End It

  Riding in the front seat of the truck, I realize that I was wrong.

  Not about the hallucination. I have no idea if what I’ve seen was real. Whether the image was a product of my broken mind, or something Matt coded into the HIVE software as a true failsafe is impossible to know.

  I was wrong about Jana becoming more taciturn. It shouldn’t be a surprise. She grew up on the Lost Plains. If that type of experience didn’t make her silent, then the last three years of war wouldn’t turn her into a mute, either.

  Jana rolls from topic to topic as the truck rumbles on, updating me on what I missed over the past three years. To sum up a long and painful series of events in a few words: things got shittier. Blackstone seized power of the Circle in a bloodless coup. Although Tanner was actually executed—I had the privilege of seeing the footage before being placed in HIVE— the official rhetoric was “natural” causes. Blackstone then thoroughly denounced Tanner’s regime and the decision to keep HIVE a secret.

  Didn’t really matter. The Ashes of the Fall and Lionhearted smelled weakness. They were sick of living under the Circle’s heel. The Circle might’ve had HIVE to offer its citizens—a compelling carrot, no doubt—but that didn’t stop the conflict.

  The Ashes of the Fall tried to encroach on the Eastern Stronghold, the Lionhearted fought dirty with guerilla warfare, and it was generally a big, bloody mess.

  The way Jana describes it, the peace treaty from earlier today seems impossible. But Chancellor Blackstone is no fool, and I guess even a momentary disruption in HIVE has left the Circle vulnerable. Better to join forces with your enemies against a weaker bogeyman than to battle at half-strength.

  And what better enemy than an actual monster: a group of nomadic, barbarous freaks that the public is already terrified of? Jana doesn’t touch on that, and I don’t bring it up. The conversation fades for many miles, until she can’t handle the silence.

  “The messenger said it’s true. I don’t want to believe it, but I gotta admit it, I guess.”

  “What’s true?” I say.

  “No more war.” She taps her fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re going to be the New Allied States.”

  “Catchy.”

  “They’re gonna push us out,” Jana says. “Come into the Lost Plains. It’s a done deal.”

  “Not surprising,” I say. “Big chunk of real estate.”

  “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  “I was just saying.”

  “I know. But it’s my home.”

  There’s a hitch in the conversation, and I offer up something real. “I never got to go home. After the ash.”

  “You lived out West?”

  “Yeah. Buried.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jana says.

  “Home is overrated,” I say. “Survival is better.”

  She cracks a smile and steps on the gas. “We might’ve signed our own death warrant. Bringing everyone together against the people who ruined a good thing.”

  “Don’t want to be the guy who shits on the party,” I say. “No one likes that guy.”

  “We could always give you back,” Jana says with a wink. When her green eyes close, it’s like a nightlight briefly going out. Whatever the hell Damien Ford did down here to create the Remnants, I’m not sure I wanna know.

  “Don’t even joke about that,” I say. “We agreed on option two.” Even though I still don’t know what option two is, it sounds better than being summarily executed by Vlad.

  “You better not be fucking us, Luke,” Jana says. “Gas isn’t cheap.”

  “I’m the best chance you got,” I say. An unenviable situation for the Remnants: just when they think it couldn’t get worse, they really need me to be a hero. Not just a hostage held for ransom. “Everyone thinks you’re a bunch of—”

  I cut myself off, remembering the last time I was blunt with Jana. Three and a half years ago, I even pulled a punch, called her weird when I was gonna say something harsher. She gives me a searing glance, but doesn’t respond.

  Bump.

  Rattle.

  The truck picks up speed. Then she says in a quiet voice, “I know damn well how people feel about us.”

  “Different is scary.” I lick the edges of my chapped lips and look out the window. Still no sign of civilization. Either she’s gonna bury me in the middle of the half-frozen landscape, or my proposal worked. “But different can be an advantage. Different is how you end it.”

  Making sure option two remains the primary plan.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Tell me what I want to hear,” Jana says. We swing around a pothole and I collide with the door. She smiles slightly. “It’s not good for your health.”

  “You gotta turn a weakness into a strength,” I say, pulling some bullshit chestnut out from an old self-help book I read once.

  “Our people are dying. We have less than 10,000 spread out across the Lost Plains.”

  “The Circle only has, what, a couple million?”

  “You like those odds? The rest of humanity, against us?”

  “You’ve survived longer odds out here.” I stroke my chin. “You gather your people. All of them.”

  “I’m not in charge.”

  “Then get in charge,” I say.

  “Blackstone and the others have the guns. The drones. Everything,” Jana says. “All we have is a bunch of rusty trucks and some dirt bikes that need constant maintenance. We’re tired, Luke.”

  “What was the biggest thing Vlad was gett
ing out of this deal for me?”

  “He figured Blackstone would be so damn desperate to plug you back into HIVE that…”

  The truck bounces over a pothole, and Jana readjusts the wheel. I wait, but she doesn’t seem intent on finishing the thought. A grimace creases her face in the darkness.

  “Come on, don’t make me beg.”

  “I’d like to see that, actually.” Jana turns down a dirt road. Somehow, the unfinished path is a smoother ride than what remained of the highway. “It’s nothing you can give us. Just a dream.”

  I can’t argue with that. But I’m curious, so I say, “Come on. Tell me what one Luke Stokes is worth on the open market.”

  She gives me a half-hearted smirk and says, “Medicine. Fuel. New vehicles.” There’s a pause. “A new home.”

  “Some beachfront property I don’t know about?”

  “Vlad figured he could trade you for enough cleaner bots and materials to clean up the Western Stronghold,” Jana says. “The Gray Desert.”

  Makes sense. And now, for the first time, I get a good idea of just how much Jana is on my side. To give up even a tiny chance of that deal on what amounts to faith in a lost cause.

  “That what they’re calling it, now, huh?” I shrug. “Look at it this way.”

  “This should be good,” she says.

  “You track down this Gifted Minds institute with me, you get the Gray Desert for zero Luke Stokes. Can’t beat free.”

  “You think your presence is worth something?”

  “Not too many people can change the world,” I say. “Has your old man ever managed that?”

  This stumps Jana into silence.

  “He’s not gonna be happy about this detour,” I say. “Can’t really backpedal from this.”

  “I know.”

  “But option two’s not just about me, is it,” I say. “It’s part of the reason you call him Vlad.”

  “He killed my mother,” Jana says.

  I suck in my breath and whistle low. But now I know why Jana is willing to rely on a con man to guide her away.