Necrotic Earth

by SW Matthews

  “I suppose I could,” said Pol, considering. “I don’t think Braxton is a good choice either, though.”

  “Rosie said they called you ‘small boy’ in the lab,” Piper offered, still kneeling beside him.

  “Pol Smallboy?” Pol thought for a minute. “Yes, I like that.”

  He straightened and presented himself to the group. “My name is Pol Smallboy,” he said. “William, or Bandit as he now likes to be called, has told me the entire story of the last few days, and I would like to thank all of you for everything you have done. You saved my cousins and my uncle. You saved me and my brothers, and you saved my mother.”

  Piper hugged him again. “Pol Smallboy, we were honored to help you. All of you.”

  When she released him again, he asked, “When my uncle calls, will you be ready to help again?”

  Piper and Andy looked at each other, then at the boy.

  “Of course,” Andy said.

  Pol smiled.

  “What do you want to do until then?” Piper asked.

  “Get to know my brothers,” he said. “Talk with my cousin some more.” He paused, then laughed. “Eat a lot of real food! Look at the stars at night, and feel the sunlight during the day! Play in the rain! Swim in the lake! Run on the beach!”

  They all laughed. His enthusiasm was contagious.

  Pol smiled and added, “I just want to be free.”

  “Freedom is a great thing,” Andy said. “One of the best. But making choices for yourself isn’t always easy. Sometimes you’ll make the wrong one.”

  Pol thought about this. “I would rather make a mistake than not be able to have a choice.”

  “That’s right,” said Piper. “And how you handle making a bad decision is a choice too.” She peered at Andy, but he had turned back to look out the windshield. “You can choose to learn from it and continue with your life, or you can dwell on it and stay stuck in a rut.”

  “Then I choose to learn from my mistakes, and keep going!” Pol said confidently.

  “And you can choose to be happy or unhappy. Right, Andy?” Piper said as she smiled at him.

  Andy turned to her and grinned. There was that smile again. Such a beautiful smile on her gorgeous face. He was thankful that such a smart, strong woman loved him. I am happy, he thought. And I made a real difference these last few days. “That’s right,” he said.

  Pol grinned too. “Then I will choose to make mistakes, keep going, and be happy!”

  Piper laughed. “You’re going to do just fine, Mr. Smallboy.”

  Chapter 22

  “You sure you’re up for this, Kat?” Doc asked.

  He and Rosie were standing at Kat’s bedside in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit in Denver University Hospital. Doc was holding his sister’s hand. Off to one side stood Kat’s physical therapist—a middle-aged woman named Carmen—and Dr. Skorz.

  Kat nodded, then used her other hand to cover the hole in her neck. “I’m sure, Billy,” she whispered. “I can’t sit around and wither away any longer. We have work to do.”

  Doc shook his head and smiled. “You really are an amazing woman, Kat.”

  He nodded at Carmen, who picked up Kat without difficulty—her patient weighed only seventy-one pounds—and placed her in an apparatus next to the bed: the latest model of the 3i Med-Exo suit. It looked a bit like a bulky, awkward robot—like an open-faced, ultra-modern suit of armor, Doc thought—gleaming white with calm, sky-blue lights along the sides, and several screens and controls on the back. Kat fit comfortably on the simple seat inside.

  “We just got these last week,” explained Carmen as she strapped in Kat’s frail body and limbs, then eased her hands into the mechanical gloves.

  “These gloves are really more for people with arm and brachial plexus injuries,” Carmen explained, “or quadriplegic patients, after they’ve had the neural regeneration procedures. But I don’t know how to disconnect them yet, so we’ll just try them out.”

  “What’s your impression of this new suit so far?” asked Dr. Skorz.

  “It’s pretty remarkable,” she replied. “Check it out.” She moved behind the suit and gestured for the doctor and Rosie to join her. “It can balance itself and support up to an additional seven hundred and fifty pounds. The amount of weight you want the patient to support is controlled here,” she indicated a certain area on the screen, “and the amount of balance you want the patient to be responsible for is controlled here. Both can be adjusted by percentages, pounds, kilograms, or whatever you’re most comfortable using.”

  “It’s monitoring all of her vital signs,” Doc said, amazed.

  “Yes, it monitors ECG, blood pressure, respiratory rate, pulsoximetry, temperature, weight, and blood glucose.”

  “I don’t remember all of that on the old models,” Rosie said.

  Carmen laughed. “No, those were pretty primitive—basically just the exo-suits used in manufacturing and the military, but dressed up a little for hospital use. These are much more streamlined. Still on the bulky side, but only about half the size of the military exo-suits. Plus, the rumor is that the next model will be able to house a ventilator, and monitor all blood lab results.”

  “Wow!”

  “Yeah, I guess the company decided they could make more money if they added some features we could actually use here.”

  “Which company?” asked Doc. “Braxton?”

  “No, it’s Integrated Intricate Industries, 3i. But I think they use a Braxton energy cell.” She turned back to the suit. “This one also has a safety switch, right here, which limits the maximum speed and strength you can use.”

  “Was that an issue?” asked Rosie.

  Carmen nodded. “Yeah, we had a couple of patients take off running once they found out they could, and another smashed through a wall accidentally. We sent those suits back to be retrofitted with a safety switch. But these new ones come with it pre-installed.”

  “Along with a lot more.”

  Carmen secured Kat’s IV bag to the back of the suit and started manipulating controls. “Okay, honey. I’m going to start you out at five percent of your body weight, so about three and a half pounds. The suit will do all of the balancing for you. I just want to work on getting your muscles used to moving again for now. You ready, dear?”

  Kat nodded.

  “Okay, now don’t worry, you can’t fall. Here we go.” The therapist activated the suit, and it slowly stood, the rear supports disappearing into the back.

  Kat smiled and turned her head back toward her brother. Doc and Rosie were standing together and smiling back at her.

  “You can do it, Kat,” said Doc. “Just take it slow.”

  Carmen moved in front of Kat, a few steps away from her. “Walk to me, honey. Slowly.”

  Kat carefully raised her right foot a few inches and took a small step. She grinned.

  “You see?” Doc exclaimed.

  Kat laughed and took another small step.

  “Strong work,” said Carmen.

  Jaq appeared in the doorway with a black elastic band in one hand and a small tablet computer in the other. He delivered both items to Dr. Skorz.

  “Thank you, Jaq.”

  “You’re welcome, sir,” replied Jaq, who moved to the corner of the room.

  Skorz stepped over to Kat. “Here is something else for you, from my friends in the ENT department.” He reached up and fastened the band around Kat’s neck. It was about three inches wide and had a small metal circle on it that fit over her tracheostomy. “The chairman, Dr. Booker, is an asshole, but he owes me a few favors. He can surgically repair the trach later, but this will help for now.” He fumbled with the tablet for a few seconds before handing it off to Rosie. “Here, Kiddo. See if you can figure out how to work this damn thing.”

  Rosie started to work on the tablet, and Jaq moved to her side to help. Together they quickly activated the device.

  “Say something,” Rosie instructed her aunt.

  “I’m walki
ng!” replied Kat.

  “Whoa, you sound like a robot,” Carmen said.

  “We can adjust that,” said Jaq. He leaned over Rosie and adjusted the controls on the tablet. “This is how you can change the voice quality,” he explained.

  Doc noticed Rosie smiling as the young man leaned close to her. “There are a lot of options here!” she said. She made some adjustments on the tablet. “Okay, try again, Aunt Kat.”

  “I’m walking,” she said—this time in a low, sultry voice. She started laughing. “I’ve never sounded so sexy!” she exclaimed.

  Everyone laughed.

  Kat walked cautiously to the end of the room. Her steps were halting, but steady. Just as she turned around, slowly, a news alert came on the television. She stopped and looked at the screen. “Could one of you turn on the volume?” she asked in her sultry voice.

  Jaq grabbed the remote and did so.

  “Thank you, Doug,” a reporter was saying. “The explosion on the outskirts of Denver last night has been attributed to Chinese terrorists. China has not accepted responsibility for the incident, but our sources at the president’s mansion have confirmed that the administration is placing the blame squarely on the world’s largest country, which is very concerning due to the already strained relations with China. The situation is so dire, in fact, that President Porter is going to address the nation, live, tomorrow from Denver.”

  “That is alarming, Abby,” replied the anchor in the studio. “Any indication what the president is going to say?

  “The word on the street is that this act of terror was the last straw, and that he is prepared to send troops in response.”

  “Let’s hope that is not the final word. Any news on the location of the explosion?”

  “Yes, Doug. It was one of William Braxton’s houses. Of course, Mr. Braxton is a major supplier to the navy and air force, so some are speculating that this was a strategic strike of some kind. Mr. Braxton was not at the residence at the time of the explosion, but unfortunately twenty-three staff members were killed.”

  “Devastating. We are all anxious to hear what the president has to say. Looking forward to his address tomorrow. Thank you, Abby.”

  “Thank you, Doug.”

  Kat looked over at Doc.

  “I’m going to try to get in touch with Symon,” he said, and quickly left the room.

  Carmen walked over to Kat. “You can handle this from here,” she said. “I want you to push yourself, Kat. I think you’re going to be running around this hospital before you know it.” She then turned to Skorz. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

  “That I do,” replied Skorz as he attentively watched the fit therapist leave the room. When she was gone, he turned his attention back to Kat. “Well, I guess going to the press is out of the question.”

  “It looks like Grandpa controls them,” said Rosie.

  Kat nodded. “Yes, but I have an idea. Hopefully Billy can find out how to contact Symon. If not, we’ll have to try someone else. We need to have some political clout on board.”

  “I hate politicians even more than administrators,” said Skorz. “If I reach out to any of the weasels I know it will likely hurt your cause. I’m afraid I can’t be of any help on that end.”

  “That’s okay, Charlie,” Kat replied. “You’ve done more than enough already.”

  Doc reappeared in the doorway with an astonished look on his face. “Have you made copies of that recording yet?” he asked Rosie.

  “Not yet.”

  “Go do it. Make several copies.”

  Rosie looked at her father with concern. “Dad?”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Just go make the copies—please.”

  Rosie placed the tablet computer on the bedside table before leaving the room. Jaq followed her out.

  “What’s wrong, Billy?” Kat asked.

  Doc turned to his sister. “Sy is in town. He’ll be here for lunch.”

  Chapter 23

  Sebastian Nix had camped in the same spot for the past three nights. It was on a small point, so there was a slight breeze, which kept the bugs away, and the tree coverage was good for shade. The slope was minimal from the water’s edge to the tree line, where the ground flattened into a large open area with soft grass for tents. A small fire pit had already been constructed at the edge of the campground.

  Normally Sebastian would refuse to stay at such a place. He preferred the backwoods and isolated lakes. There was too much activity on Burntside Lake for him. He was a hunter. Specifically, a trapper, and the best pelts were never found around civilization. And this part of Lakeland was definitely civilized compared to where he came from.

  He placed more wood on his small fire and stirred his pot of rubaboo. He didn’t normally eat a midday meal, but since he wasn’t traveling he decided to fix his supper early. He stood and walked a few steps out onto the point. His dark eyes scanned the distance, then he raised the binoculars and surveyed the cabins again. Still no activity. Nothing since the plane left early yesterday morning with six people on board, including his target and the man who led him here.

  Seven days ago, Sebastian had spotted his old friend hunting alone. It had not been easy to stay hidden. He knew his friend was adept at the art of noticing—almost as proficient as himself. But Sebastian managed to track him unseen. He followed and watched as his friend pursued and killed a bull moose, skinned it and drained it, then removed a flank and left the rest to hang from a high limb for retrieval later. He watched him take the flank, by portage and canoe, back to Burntside Lake.

  They had arrived here three days ago.

  Two days ago, he watched the large water plane leave early in the morning with five passengers. It returned later in the day with six.

  The next day, yesterday, it left even earlier, with all six, and it had yet to return.

  The wait had given Sebastian time to think about how he would exact his revenge. In truth, he had thought of little else for the past two years, but the fact that the pilot was alive made his previous planning moot.

  He lowered the binoculars and enjoyed the warm weather. His home, much farther north, did not typically experience afternoons like this. Standing in the sun, with the slight breeze at his back, he could have been mistaken for a figure from the distant past. His red wool cap was pushed back on his head, exposing his heavily scarred face. Black hair grew where the tormented skin would allow, and was kept short and trim, including the moustache and beard. His bright blue cotton shirt, open at the neck and exposing a cross on a gold chain, was vibrant in the sun, as was the red wool sash around his waist. His black canvas trousers were tucked into his boot moccasins, which were made of the same leather as his belt and his long-cuffed gloves.

  He returned to the campfire and sat. He added some maple sugar to the pot, pulled out a skin flask, and took a drink of water. He could wait as long as he needed to. Restraint and endurance were the hallmarks of a great hunter, and he was the best. His desire for vengeance was strong, but his patience was even stronger.

  After he had finished his corn and pea porridge, he dozed in the shade. He was awoken a short time later by a familiar, nearly silent whoosh directly overhead. He came to his feet and used the binoculars to watch the helijet fly across the lake and land in front of the small cabin.

  “What is this now, eh?” he said to himself. “A Super Bee? In Lakeland? Hmmm.”

  A dog ran to the back of the vehicle as the ramp lowered. Sebastian watched as his target exited the vehicle and scratched the dog’s ears. The beast fell to the ground and rolled over, exposing its belly.

  “So, you are back, but in a new aircraft? An upgrade perhaps? How did you manage such a feat?”

  Sebastian watched his friend with a mixture of anger and sadness. “I’m sorry, my friend,” he said. “Your death was unrightfully delayed. It is time to correct that.”

  Next out of the craft was the woman. Sebastian didn’t know her, but he soon would. The pilot was
last, and the ramp closed behind him.

  “Just three now, eh?” Sebastian said to himself.

  The pilot kissed the woman and slapped her on the behind. She walked up to the small cabin while the pilot walked around the aircraft, limping, apparently studying the helijet.

  “Bonjour, AJ,” said Sebastian. “Preparez-vous a l’enfer.”

  ***

  After checking the helijet, Andy followed Piper into the office.

  “We really need to cover up that Braxton logo ASAP,” he said as he closed the door and hobbled toward her desk.

  She didn’t look up. “We’ve got a few other things to take care of first. We missed yesterday’s delivery. We were supposed to have supplies for the Petersons’ new place on Darkwater, but it looks like Markus didn’t drop them off since we weren’t here. This says he’ll try again today.” She held up a small note. “And we’re supposed to go pick up honey and mead from Stockton to deliver to the Pub in Ely tomorrow.”

  “No problem,” Andy replied. “As soon as Markus drops off the supplies I’ll take them to Darkwater, then swing by Stock’s place on the way back.”

  “Andy! Those aren’t even close to the same route!” Piper exclaimed. “It’ll take all night to do both!”

  Andy smiled. “You forgot about Gertie already?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She looked up at Andy. “I guess you can hit both of those in just a couple hours. This really could make a huge difference for us. You were right.”

  “Wait, what?” Andy gave an expression of mock surprise. “Did you say I’m right? I hope you have your little recorder on now! I want to hear that over and over!”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry. There’s no proof I said it, and I’ll never admit it.”

  A horn sounded outside.

  “That’ll be Markus,” Piper said.

  “Yep. I’ll go unload your new SUV to make room.”

  ***

  When the building supplies for the Petersons were strapped into the cargo area and Markus was driving away, Andy returned to the office.