Necrotic Earth

by SW Matthews

  The soldiers were talking and laughing by the doorway. One of them said, “No pierdas una bala.” There was laughter, then the man closest to Mel pulled his belt knife from its sheath and knelt down beside her.

  Matteo had succeeded in releasing the corner of the tape, but not enough for him to speak. A shadow fell over his soul as he realized he was going to fail yet again.

  The soldier brought the knife closer.

  Mel was still turned toward Matteo. As the knife reached her throat, she yelled, “Andy!”

  As the soldier dragged the knife across her throat, a curtain of red appeared.

  The tape finally released from Matteo’s mouth so his scream could be heard.

  “Noooo!”

  He shot up in bed. He was gasping, and his heart was pounding. He was covered in sweat, and tears streamed down his face. His fists were clenched and his arms were up, ready for battle.

  He sat silent for a minute, then he heard Mel again.

  “Andy, answer me!”

  No, not Mel. Not the desert. Not now.

  He looked around. The sun was shining into his bedroom. He could see the lake through the window and the trees on the far bank.

  “Andy?”

  Not Mel.

  The voice belonged to Piper, his wife. He was home. It had been another dream.

  He wiped the tears from his face, reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed his commlink.

  Before he could reply, Piper spoke again. “You aren’t still in bed, are you?” Her tone indicated that she knew he was.

  He caught his breath and activated the microphone. “Sorry, babe,” he said. “Long night.”

  He could hear her smiling as she replied. “Yeah, I was there. Remember?”

  Andy did remember now, and he tried to use images from the night before to replace those of the nightmare. He managed a grin.

  “Well, you need to get down here now,” she said. “We’ve got a new client.”

  Chapter 2

  2112

  Andy fastened the commlink to his wrist, pulled on a pair of dark canvas pants, and headed to the bathroom. Attempting to push the memory of the dream from his thoughts once and for all, he focused on Piper’s words.

  A new client? That was promising. They needed the money. Three deliveries yesterday were pretty good, but he had no work scheduled for today or tomorrow. Plus, he was always looking for an excuse to fly.

  But who was it? She didn’t give a name, and Lakeland was a relatively small community. It was huge, spread out—literally thousands of square miles of lakes and forest—but people-wise, it was pretty small, maybe fifty thousand here in his neck of the woods. He had been here for eight years, and his little operation had developed a pretty stable clientele. A nice routine.

  And why did Piper want him to get down there to meet the client? She handled all the contracts and scheduling.

  Andy washed his face in the bathroom sink. His blue eyes were tinged with red, and dark circles hung underneath them. Too much Pallucca wine last night—and not enough sleep, thanks to Piper.

  Worth it.

  He didn’t want to take the time to shave, though it had been a couple of days, and he needed one. And he really needed a haircut. His brown hair, touched with gray, was over his ears.

  As he was finishing brushing his teeth, his commlink came alive again.

  “Andy, you coming?”

  “On my way,” he replied.

  Why the rush? Something was not right.

  As he exited the cabin, he almost tripped over the dog.

  “Hey, Chief! Mornin’, boy.” He scratched the big mutt behind the ears. “Tuck still isn’t back yet, huh?”

  He went back inside and returned with the last of the sausages the Pallucca boys had brought with them last night. He tossed it into the air. Chief easily caught it and devoured it while happily wagging his tail.

  The day was beautiful. Clear blue sky. Brisk, but with the promise of warmth coming. A soft breeze pushing at the thin line of smoke from the still smoldering fire pit, where Andy had been sitting with friends just a few hours earlier. Faint sounds of boats and planes in the distance, already busy.

  He set off along the path down the hill to his office, admiring the view. The dark blue of Burntside Lake shimmered in the morning sun. The distant shore was a tranquil green. His plane, the Loon, rested peacefully at the dock, and beyond it, a familiar canoe was approaching. Andy waved. The lone occupant responded by raising an oar into the air. It looked like he had something big in the boat with him—most likely a moose flank.

  When he arrived at the office, a shiny SUV was parked on the dirt driveway. Such a vehicle was a rare sight in Lakeland, and Andy’s first thought was that he had finally been found. The vehicle’s new, black glossy paint gleamed in the sunlight. Almost no wear on the tires. A bit of mud spatter, no doubt from the drive in. Andy worried for a moment that it was someone from the military, but it had Colorado plates, not government plates, so he breathed a little easier. Probably from Denver, although the vehicle certainly didn’t look like it had just driven a thousand miles.

  He tried to relax. Piper wouldn’t have called him if she were suspicious about the client. She was always on the lookout; she was even more protective of him than Tuck, if possible. But small alarms were still going off in his mind as he entered the old cabin that had been converted into the Lakeland Transit Office. Something was definitely not right.

  As he entered the reception area, he saw several people already waiting in his office. He went first to Piper’s desk, which was set off to the right. She was standing behind it, her back toward him, her long dark ponytail flipping across her back as she scanned the vast array of electronics on the wall.

  “Good morning, gorgeous,” he purred as he sidled up behind her and slipped his arms around her.

  “Hey, lover boy,” she said.

  He kissed her neck and whispered, “So what’s going on?”

  She turned in his embrace and looked him over. “Not sure. A rich guy and three goons. He asked to speak directly to the pilot.” She adjusted his collar and buttoned another button on his shirt, then tried to make his hair more presentable.

  “No names?”

  “No, they didn’t give me their names.”

  “I mean my name. They didn’t ask for me by name, did they?”

  Piper cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m stupid enough to call you if he had asked for you by name?”

  He looked past her long dark lashes into her bright caramel eyes. “No, of course not. You’re the smartest person I know.”

  She graced him with the perfect smile, her teeth glistening behind plump, rosy lips, her bronze skin wrinkling slightly at the corners of her eyes as her entire face beamed. This was the smile that started his day. It was the smile that had saved his life. The nightmare was totally forgotten once again.

  “That’s right,” she said.

  They kissed, and Andy headed for his office. Before he reached the door, he turned back to his wife. “Oh, I saw Tuck coming in. Looks like moose tonight.”

  “Yum!”

  As Andy entered his office, the man sitting in the lone chair in front of his desk stood. The other three men, standing in a row behind him, did not move.

  “Good morning, sir,” the man said cheerfully, extending his hand. He spoke with a slight accent that Andy couldn’t identify.

  “Good morning,” Andy replied with a smile. He shook the man’s hand. It was soft and warm; his grip gentle but not weak.

  “You are the pilot?”

  “I am,” Andy replied. He moved behind his desk and sat in his heavily worn chair.

  The tall man remained standing. He was at least six inches taller than Andy, maybe more. His hair was thin and dark and plastered to his large head. His eyes were small, dark, and clear, and his skin was pink and smooth. He was thin with narrow shoulders. Andy guessed he was in his mid-forties, maybe ten years older than himself
, but he knew with rich folks it was sometimes hard to tell. And it was clear he was rich. The SUV, the goons—probably a driver and two bodyguards—the upbeat attitude, the perfectly tailored suit. It all exuded wealth. It was also clear that physical exertion was not a part of his daily routine.

  Not so with the goons. They were all solidly built, with suits expertly crafted around their muscular frames. They stood perfectly still behind their boss, their closely trimmed heads resting on thick necks. Their unblinking eyes looked at nothing but seemed to see everything. Obviously military background, probably navy, but now in the private sector, which was common.

  “I apologize, but I must admit I overheard your comment before you came in,” the tall man said.

  Andy tensed and sat very still.

  “The moose is a very interesting animal. I have never actually seen one, but I understand they are quite abundant in this part of the country. Did you know that our friends in China call them “elk”? Quite different from our elk, though, aren’t they? The native americans called them “Wampoose,” which is where the common nomenclature originated.”

  Andy stared at the man, unsure of how to respond.

  “No doubt the subspecies you encounter here is the Western Moose, which is a very large beast, sometimes weighing over fifteen hundred pounds. That is a substantial amount of meat.”

  Andy and the man stared at each other for a moment.

  “It’s one of our main sources of food,” Andy said slowly.

  “I have never eaten moose before, although it is renowned for being very nutritious, and also very lean. Yet I have never been able to locate an objective description of the flavor. With such a low fat-content, is it tough? Where does it stand on the spectrum of red meat? Is it like the shoulder of an old goat, or more like a tenderloin from a young, pampered calf. Tell me, sir, how does it taste?”

  “It’s delicious.”

  The tall man smiled. “Hmmm. I’m sure that it is. I wish there was a synthetic version. You see, I have not eaten natural food of any kind for many years.” The man seemed very pleased about it, and Andy relaxed a little. The man sat down, his movements precise, with no wasted effort.

  “Well, we don’t get synthetics out here,” Andy said. “We hunt, fish, garden, and barter for just about everything.”

  The man was puzzled. “Do you not have a grocery store?”

  “There are a couple of general stores in Ely, but they mostly sell goods from the local farmers. Occasionally they get some flour or salt, but it goes fast. I’ve never heard of them selling synthetics.”

  “Another potential market,” the man said thoughtfully, more to himself than to Andy. “So, you do not have a large need for money here?”

  Andy smiled. “We still have a bank. And technically all of this is still theirs.” He raised his arms, indicating the office and his business.

  The man nodded in understanding. “Of course, of course. The banks truly do rule the world, do they not?” He smoothed his suit with his large hands. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Cregor Hoff, and I would like to hire you.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Hoff. You can call me Andy.”

  “Thank you, Andy.”

  “What exactly would you like me to haul for you?”

  “I fear it is a little more complicated than a matter of freight,” Hoff replied. “I will get right to the point, Andy. A little background information is in order. You see, I am a senior vice president of Braxton Incorporated—”

  “You’re a vice president of Braxton?” Andy said incredulously. “The largest company in the world?”

  “Yes,” continued Hoff. “We are very successful and always growing. And Braxton has made me very wealthy. The advantages of such wealth are many, but there are disadvantages as well.”

  Andy snorted. “Right. Like which of my hired bodyguards is going to drive me around in my new SUV today?”

  Hoff gave Andy a thin smile. “It is true that money provides a lifestyle unknown to those less fortunate. It is also true that it brings risk those same individuals do not understand. For instance, if it were not for my wealth, I would not need these gentlemen.” He motioned toward the three men behind him. “My position and success have made me a target.”

  Andy fully understood being a target.

  “Of course, this makes my family a target as well, which is why I am here today.”

  Andy was confused. “So, what is it you need…?”

  Hoff sighed, as if gathering his strength to explain. “My son has been kidnapped,” he stated simply, turning his gaze to the floor. “It was a little over a year ago. I have reason to believe he is here in Lakeland.” He raised his head to look directly at Andy, his eyes cold and piercing.

  Now Andy was even more confused. “Kidnapping? So we need to drop off a ransom payment or something?”

  “I wish it were that simple. There have been no ransom demands or communication of any kind.”

  “I don’t get it, Mr. Hoff,” Andy confessed. “If there have been no demands, and it’s been over a year, surely…”

  “I can assure you that the boy is not dead,” Hoff said quickly. “We believe a business competitor is responsible for the crime. He is attempting to distract and befuddle me and, in turn, my work at Braxton.”

  “And you think this competitor is here in Lakeland?”

  “No. We believe he hired someone to take my son and bring him to Lakeland for safekeeping.”

  “How do you know he’s in Lakeland?”

  “We were able to track him for a short period after the abduction. He was heading in this direction, and we have already searched all other possible destinations.”

  “Okay… but why have you come to me?” Andy asked. “We haul cargo, sometimes hunters and fishermen. But we aren’t a rescue squad. Why not hire some private paramilitary force? You can afford it.”

  Hoff motioned to the window. “I’ve come to you because this damnable place is enormous! And wild! It would take years for my men to even search one quarter of the land. Most of the area is uncharted. There are no roads. No laws!” He paused to calm himself. “I need someone native, Andy. Someone who may already know where my boy is without realizing it. Someone who can contact him without raising suspicion.”

  Andy thought about the argument. It seemed logical. Lakeland was huge and lawless. It was easy to disappear here. That was why he had come here in the first place. But still, he didn’t have a rescue team. He wouldn’t know where to begin—or how. And honestly, he didn’t want to get involved.

  “Look, Mr. Hoff, I’m sorry for your situation, and I hope you’re able to find your boy, but I’m not really equipped to mount a rescue effort.”

  “Two of my men will accompany you,” Hoff said. “All you have to do is fly the plane. They will take care of the rest.”

  That would solve the rescue team problem, but Andy still didn’t want the job. Too unusual, and too risky.

  “I’m afraid I’ve got other customers to attend to,” he said, shaking his head. “Scheduled deliveries and pickups to make. Clients who’ve been using me for years. There’s no way to know how long it will take to find your son, and I can’t just abandon the rest of my business for this.”

  “I will pay you ten thousand dollars today,” Hoff said. He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. “And twenty thousand more once I have my son back.”

  Andy stared. Thirty thousand dollars? He could pay off the bank, and pay back Piper and Tuck.

  Perhaps this job wasn’t so bad after all. It couldn’t really be that risky, especially if Hoff’s guys were going to take care of the actual rescue part.

  But his gut still said no. The feeling he’d had earlier—that something wasn’t right—was now stronger than ever. Maybe he could work out a deal with Jimmer. Jimmer’s plane was smaller, but he could carry two goons and a kid. And maybe Andy could talk Jimmer into giving him a finder’s fee for such a big payday.

  “I appreciate the o
ffer, Mr. Hoff, but I’m not interested. My buddy Jimmer—”

  Hoff interrupted. “I have researched every transport service in Lakeland, including your friend Jimmer Skinner.” He laid the envelope on the desk, sat back down, and straightened his suit, then looked Andy directly in the eye. “Let me explain what is going to happen here. You will take the money. You will put my two men up in your spare cabin tonight, and tomorrow you will take them to rescue my son. You will do these things for me, even though you do not want to, for two reasons. The first is that you already know where my son is.”

  Andy stood. “I don’t know anything about your son, Hoff, and frankly, I don’t like being told what to do… “

  “His captor is a client of yours,” replied Hoff calmly, cutting him off. “I believe you know him as Dr. Ouch.”

  Andy gave Hoff his best poker face, trying to reveal nothing. “And what is the second reason?” he asked after a long moment.

  Hoff suddenly became cheerful again. “The second reason is that I know who you are, Lieutenant Andrew Jason Matteo.”

  Chapter 3

  After Cregor Hoff left, and while Piper and Andy settled his two men into a guest cabin, Piper could see the panic in her husband’s eyes. The minute she and Andy were back in the privacy of their own cabin, that panic was released.

  “What the hell? Who is this guy? How did he find me?” Andy asked as he paced around the small kitchen.

  “Calm down,” Piper said. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

  “Everything is either in your name or Tuck’s! Even my pilot’s license has a fake name on it! Official records say I’m dead!”

  “Look, I don’t know how he found out about you. But he’s probably one of the richest guys in the world. He can get whatever information he wants.”

  “He’s going to haul me out of here. I’m going to jail.”

  “You’re not going to jail. He wants to hire you.”

  “And if he found me, then someone else could too.”

  Piper saw the fear in his eyes and knew he was thinking about the other person who could find him. “Sebastian is not going to find you,” she said calmly. “We’ve been here a long time. It’s safe here. We’ve been over this…”