The Biomass Revolution ttc-1

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The Biomass Revolution ttc-1 Page 18

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith


  Ran turned away from the hole and crawled back over to Nordica, who was sleeping. He grabbed a piece of stale bread out of his knapsack and stuffed it down his dry gullet, chewing as fast as possible to get the disgusting nourishment down.

  “When can we get out of here?” Juliana asked, her back against the concrete wall.

  “Technically, Nordica is in charge now,” Tsui whispered.

  The three soldiers looked down at Nordica as she slept, her chest heaving slowly up and down. They all knew her as one of the most barbaric soldiers in the TDU. She killed for fun. Some of the soldiers dealt in credits and cash, but Nordica dealt in calibers. Her currency wasn’t in paper notes or credits, it was in lead. Some of the other soldiers dreamt of a time where they could have a savings account again, a time they could rent an apartment and go to the grocery store. Nordica did not.

  Ran often wondered what would happen if the TDU won the revolution. Would Nordica be able to assimilate into society? Sometimes it seemed Nordica liked the life of a rebel too much and didn’t want to win the war, kind of like a prisoner who had been behind bars for so long they were terrified of rejoining society.

  Nordica stirred and woke.

  “What the hell are you guys looking at?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Tsui brought a finger to his lips. “We’re deliberating. What are your orders?” he asked bluntly.

  Nordica sat up and brushed a few dreadlocks out of her face. “If Ran is convinced the Knights are gone, then we head to the rendezvous point.”

  Juliana and Ran nodded in agreement, but Tsui remained silent until Nordica was finished.

  “How do we even know there will be a checkpoint?” he asked.

  “Because there will be one, and you’re an asshole for asking that,” she grumbled.

  Ran and Juliana looked at one another, their eyes gleaming with fear. They both shared Tsui’s concerns, but were too afraid to voice the obvious.

  Nordica stood up, pulling her locks back into a tail. “When is the last time you heard any movement, Ran?”

  “It’s been 12 hours since I saw the last guard. And the cleanup crews left around 24 hours ago. It looks clear to me.”

  “We need to get to the rendezvous point. Let’s find some weapons, grab some supplies and get moving,” she said, ordering the three TDU soldiers out of the room.

  With the help of Ran and Tsui, Nordica was able to move the massive pantry shelves. Together the four soldiers entered the pantry, where the stale air reeked of rotting food and death.

  “See if you guys can salvage anything,” Ran said, as he followed Nordica up the stairs and back into the complex. They were headed for the armory, knowing the chances the CRK overlooked anything or left any weapons behind were remote. Nonetheless it was worth a try, and any weapon was better than the two small pistols Ran and Nordica held at ready.

  The two walked cautiously down the hall, covering each other with their weapons through each pass. The challenge was to avoid stepping on fallen glass or tripping on anything that might alert anyone to their presence.

  As they covered more ground inside the complex, Ran recalled one of the many times he and Nordica robbed food trucks in Rohania. It had been years ago, but this specific time was still fresh inside his mind.

  The driver radioed in for help and moments later a single Knight responded, assault rifle blazing as soon as he spotted the two TDU thieves. Ran and Nordica had been armed only with their pistols.

  Ran immediately dove for cover behind a couple of trash cans, while Nordica stood her ground and fired her 9mm at the Knight, the rounds bouncing off his armor harmlessly.

  What happened next was something Ran would never forget. One of Nordica’s rounds hit the Knight’s right goggle, the blue glass exploding in a spray of blood, glass and metal. The Knight’s lifeless body slumped to the ground.

  Her heroism gave them just enough time to escape back to the tunnel, along with two sacks of food and a pack full of grenades that Ran took off the dead Knight. It wasn’t the first time she had saved his life, and he knew it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  “You need to keep up,” Nordica whispered from behind a concrete pillar a few feet ahead.

  “Sorry,” Ran whispered back, his attention returning to his task.

  He squinted, vaguely making out the entrance to the armory. Several downed electrical wires shot out sporadic bursts of electricity, faintly lighting the hallway. There was still no sign of the CRK.

  The two soldiers simultaneously ran into the smoking ruins of the armory, their guns drawn. Their eyes fell on a smoldering heap of twisted weapons.

  “Damn, that must’ve been what we heard.” Nordica said, kicking a ruined rifle across the concrete floor.

  “The CRK decided to destroy the weapons instead of hauling them out of the tunnels,” Ran replied, gazing upon the smoldering concrete room, pieces of rifles and burnt shell cases littered across the ground.

  “Come on, let’s see if we can salvage anything,” Nordica said.

  Ran ducked under the loose electrical wires and began combing the room for anything they could use. He watched Nordica pick up pieces of a table and door, quietly tossing them to the side. Digging through a pile of concrete, Nordica found a charred shotgun. She quickly examined it and, satisfied she tossed the strap over her shoulder and continued with the search.

  In the east corner of the room Ran uncovered a submachine gun, burned severely but appearing to still be intact. He peered down the sights and released the safety.

  “I think I found something worth saving,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  “Me too,” Nordica responded. She pulled another shotgun from the blackened pile of weapons below her.

  By the time their search was over they had salvaged three shotguns and four cartons of ammunition. They also found three 9mms and two assault rifles, in addition to the small machine gun Ran tucked away in the back of his belt.

  Balancing all of her newly found weapons in her arms, Nordica followed Ran towards the exit of the room. “Let’s head back to pantry and see what Juliana and Tsui were able to recover,” Nordica ordered.

  A small glimmer of hope crept into Ran’s thoughts as they made their way back. He knew how many times he “hoped” in the past, only to be disappointed. Most of his comrades and friends were dead. He wondered if Squad 19 was still out there. They were the most important unit in the TDU. Without them, the TDU would surely be lost.

  Time: 2:05 a.m. February 22, 2071.

  Location: Tunnels, Tisaia

  Nordica sat perched on the concrete surface of a tunnel platform. The night vision goggles she took off a dead TDU member emitted a warm orange glow into the darkness. They were heading south through a tunnel once used to transport supplies to and from Rohania.

  “We better get going,” Juliana said, throwing her backpack around her shoulders and grabbing her rifle. “We have a lot of ground to cover and we don’t know if there are still Knights patrolling these tunnels.”

  Nordica chuckled. “I think the CRK did a hit and run, and thought we were all dead. I’m guessing they’re back in Lunia, celebrating with ale and prostitutes.”

  Ran laughed nervously. He hoped what Nordica said was true, but at every corner they rounded he expected to see a squad of Knights, waiting to cut them down.

  So far, Ran knew they had been lucky, but there was the remote possibility the Knights weren’t heading back to Lunia victoriously and that they were waiting in the shadows.

  Victory was a sobering thought, one he secretly wished he could feel someday, but he knew the chances were unlikely, especially now, when hope seemed all but lost.

  Nordica led the small group of survivors through the tunnels for hours, stopping only to piss and eat a few bites of food. They were exhausted but pressed on, knowing they were already days late to the rendezvous.

  “Are we almost there?” Ran asked.

  Nordica looked back at him, bringin
g her finger to her lips and signaling for Ran to climb up onto the concrete banks of the tunnel. Ran nodded in confirmation, climbing out of the murky water. Nordica was right; the water made too much noise, and Ran needed to focus on his surroundings. They were still not free of danger.

  The tunnels were getting narrower, which indicated they were almost to the edge of Lunia. Once they were outside the walls they would climb above ground into the Wastelands, making the rest of the journey considerably more dangerous. The missile silo was almost 30 miles outside the Tisaian walls. This presented a problem in and of itself. If they did evade the Knights they would still be faced with other potential threats in the Wastelands: wild animals, stragglers, land mines and bands of raiders.

  Ran had never seen a raider, but had heard plenty of stories to know they could be just as lethal as Knights. The raiders fought like animals, tearing their enemies to pieces and wearing their bones as trophies. The notion made him shudder. He would almost prefer to face a Knight over one of the barbaric raiders.

  Nordica, on the other hand, would never forget her run in with raiders. It was years ago, on a scavenging mission. She was headed towards an abandoned building said to house a cache of 21st century weapons when she heard them.

  At first she thought it was an earthquake as the ground began to rumble. But as a cloud of dust emerged in the distance, she realized it was no earthquake. It wasn’t long before she could see an armada of riders, their skin tattooed and scarred. They were led by a man riding a dark stallion, his bald head and pierced ears gleaming under the weak sun.

  As they rode closer Nordica could see something on the man’s shoulders. The dust made it difficult for Nordica’s goggles to function properly, so she removed them and took out a pair of binoculars. It was then she could clearly see the skulls mounted on the man’s shoulders. These weren’t just any skulls either; they were human.

  Since that day Nordica avoided the raiders of the Wastelands at all costs. She was known for fearing no one, but even Ran knew Nordica feared these barbaric men.

  Ran set his rifle down and looked upward. He could see a small ray of light peeking through a manhole far above. “Guys, I think I found our way out.”

  Nordica crowded him, gently pushing him away. “That must be it!” she shouted, neglecting her own orders to keep quiet.

  “Careful everyone,” Juliana said, emerging from behind. “We don’t know what or who is out there right now. Someone should climb up and have a look before we all charge up.”

  “She’s right,” Ran said. “I’ll do it,” he volunteered, approaching the ladder. He looked back at Nordica, who gave him a nod of approval.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, turning, strapping his shotgun across his back and grabbing the rusted steps of the ladder. Rays of light struck his eyes as he climbed, blinding him momentarily. Having lived in the tunnels for so long meant that his eyes took a few moments to adjust to natural light, especially from the sun.

  “What’s going on up there?” Nordica shouted from below, her voice echoing through the silent tunnel.

  “I just couldn’t see, don’t worry, everything’s fine,” Ran yelled back as he began to climb again.

  The small holes in the drain cover revealed they were in the Wastelands. The viewpoint was not good at all, though, so he pushed the drain cover up a few inches and surveyed the grayness.

  To the east were the steel walls of Tisaia, towering above the Wastelands like a fruit tree over the desert. To the west was death—the skeletons of trees and remnants of what was once beautiful green farm fields. Ran had seen pictures of what the area used to look like. It was now unrecognizable. Satisfied that there wasn’t any threat, he descended the ladder to rejoin his team.

  “It looks clear to me.”

  Nordica grabbed her shotgun and pulled a shell from her bag. “Although I’d prefer to do this under the cover of darkness, I think we need to move immediately,” she said, turning to Tsui. “What do you think? It’s possible they could have guards on the walls within range to spot us.”

  Tsui nodded his head in agreement. “I think we need to get moving too. We can’t wait another 24 hours. If there are guards up there, they would spot us at night with their goggles anyways.”

  Nordica put the shell into her shotgun and pumped it. “Let’s move, guys, the survivors aren’t going to wait for us much longer,” she said, heading towards the ladder.

  * * *

  The storm drain was slightly less than a mile from an old highway, another token of good luck, with plenty of old vehicles to use for cover. Nordica led the four TDU soldiers through the maze of broken-down cars. The wind beat down on them without mercy, burning any uncovered skin. Ran looked down at his bare arms and noticed there were blisters forming. He tried to roll his sleeves down, but they wouldn’t go much further than his elbow.

  “We need to find cover!” he shouted.

  Nordica knelt in front of an old truck, glancing at her watch.

  “Gather round. Let’s take five. Tsui, you keep watch on our six.”

  Juliana stopped and reached inside her bag, retrieving a small white bottle.

  “Here, use some of this on your arms. They look like they’re starting to burn,” she said, handing him the bottle.

  “Thanks,” Ran responded, taking a knee next to Nordica.

  “The way I figure it, we have about five miles left before we reach the silo,” Nordica said, in between drinks from her canteen. She coughed and wiped the excess water from her lips.

  The group sat, eating what bits of food they had brought with them, listening to the howling wind. For a few moments Ran felt as if everything was going to be fine. He forgot the massacre from a week earlier and watched a pair of clouds crash into one another, further blocking out the weak sun.

  Ran felt an itch, and clawed at his face to feel another sore forming on his forehead. He took a moment to rub some of the lotion Juliana gave him on the spot. The wind wasn’t the only enemy in the Wastelands. There were also radiation pockets that could burn you as fast as the wind could. It was possible they had passed through one already and the sores on his body were radiation poisoning.

  “Let’s move out,” Nordica commanded.

  Ran forget the sores and put the bottle of lotion into his pack. In the distance he could see the remnants of a dead forest, the dark trees lining the horizon like foot soldiers ready for battle. The trees would not offer much more protection from the wind, but it was better than being out in the open. He strapped his rifle to his back again and took off after the others.

  It only took an hour to reach the edge of the dead forest. Ran and Nordica hugged the tree line, or what was left of it. Every once in a while they would come across a tree that appeared to have a green leaf, but every time Ran went to touch it, the leaf would crumble into ash in the palm of his glove. There wasn’t much that could survive in the Wastelands.

  Ran liked survival stories. He enjoyed finding anomalies in an otherwise lifeless world. There had been a time he came across a plant living in a small pocket of life just outside the Tisaian walls. He was scavenging for supplies when he found it. It survived against all odds, living through season after season of harsh conditions.

  “Keep focused, Ran. We could be walking into a trap,” Tsui whispered.

  Ran nodded and continued on, his rifle drawn, waiting to blast anything that moved. He saw the tree line ended just yards away from the old building. The structure was surrounded by an ancient metal fence, topped with a layer of barbed wire. At the front gate an old sign swayed back and forth in the wind, creaking and groaning with every twist. Ran read the sign aloud as he made his way closer. “Government Property; Trespassers Will Be Subject to Arrest and Prosecution.”

  “Arrest us,” Nordica said, passing through the open gate with her rifle drawn.

  “This must not have been much of a military base in its day,” Ran muttered from a few yards behind.

  “It wasn’t really a
base,” Nordica replied quickly. “In fact, there’s only one building here.”

  Ran found cover behind a large dead oak tree and pulled out his binoculars to get a better look.

  He scanned the building first; stopping on a large antenna that rested obliquely on the roof, pointing towards the gray skyline. Then he glassed the compound, finally stopping on a pair of metal doors in the middle of the lot.

  “Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Tsui whispered from his six, startling him.

  “What do you make of this?” Ran asked, handing the binoculars to Tsui.

  “Looks like that’s the silo we’re searching for. Hasn’t been used in years, from the look of it.”

  Ran stole another glance around the trunk of the tree, scanning the area to see if he missed anything.

  “I think you’re right. If there are any survivors they’re already in the building, which seems unlikely, considering we haven’t seen any scouts at all.”

  Satisfied the base was empty, Ran took off running and dove behind a concrete block where Nordica had taken up position.

  “I’ll go first, you cover me,” she said, already in flight before Ran could raise his weapon.

  Ran kept his rifle trained on the building as Nordica sprinted towards another fence, which was swinging awkwardly back and forth in the wind. Nearing the building, she crouched and rested her back against the concrete wall before motioning for the rest of the soldiers to follow.

  As Ran sprinted towards the structure a wave of trepidation overtook him, one he felt only when he was sure something was going to go wrong. He had felt something like it the day the CRK attacked the headquarters.

  “Halt, you sons of bitches! Get on the ground now!” a voice screamed from the roof.

  Nordica jumped back from the wall, her gun raised, while Ran stopped dead in his tracks and pointed his rifle towards the roof.

 

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