Lethal Seasons (A Changed World Book 1)

by Alice Sabo

  Nick was sweaty and hungry by the time the first rusting water tower came into sight. He moved off the road and into the cover of the woods. A quick look told him this one was unoccupied. By the twisted roots of a toppled tree, he hunkered down for a brief rest. During a quick meal, he thought about the situation. He could be walking into an armed compound, alone. If the mercenaries had the children, it was going to be an extremely difficult extraction. But he had no doubt that the children needed to be rescued. Their murdered sister was all the proof he required to know the mercenaries had ill intent. He only hoped that he’d get there in time. Without a motive for the murder, he had no clue as to why the children were targets.

  After stowing his trash and taking a long slug of water, he resumed his trek. What he wanted most of all, at this point, was information. Being on his own meant he had to be smart. He’d take a good look at the compound, locate the children and hope for a plan. Back on the road, he marched past a line of rusted train cars before approaching the next factory. Fallen trees had taken down the fencing, but the driveway was still obvious. Nick slipped back into the trees.

  Placing each foot carefully into the forest litter, testing every step for solidity and sound, Nick moved toward the factory. The birds were noisy this deep into the trees. Swallows swooped by on their way to the river. The forest felt alive with sound. Enough, he hoped, to cover his approach.

  The sky glinting through the canopy still held light, but the floor of the forest was filling with shadows as he crept up on the derelict building. Someone was there. He could smell food cooking. Still at a safe distance, he stashed his pack under a bramble patch and loosened his weapons. Then he slowly worked his way forward until he heard voices. Crouching in the weeds, at the edge of a pot-holed parking lot, he waited, listening and watching.

  Very few minutes passed before an armed man came around the side of the dilapidated building. Over his shoulder, hanging loose on its strap, was an automatic weapon. Nick concentrated on breathing as quietly as possible, but his heart speeded up. The man was wearing black body armor like the dead man at the murder scene. He’d found his quarry. The fact that he was out-gunned and out-numbered was frustrating. He’d need to get closer to see if they had the children. Bright light speared out of cracks and crannies from within the building. Luckily, with all the doors and windows missing, that would make it much easier to see inside.

  As he was assessing the cover closer in, his eyes were drawn to a flicker in the undergrowth to the left of the man. A heartbeat later, inexplicably, the guy was gone. He blinked hard, staring at the sun-bleached grasses in the long shadows of twilight. A soft rustle in the weeds, and he saw a pair of boots dragged away. A shiver pricked its way down Nick's spine. Someone was hunting the hunters. That was an unforeseen complication.

  Another mercenary stepped through a collapsed doorway with a mug in his hand. He looked both ways. “Allen?”

  Nick held his breath.

  There was a soft groan from the weeds.

  “Allen?” The man dropped the mug and drew a sidearm. The movement was fluid, practiced. Nick had no doubt this was a professional unit. From the body armor to the weapons, it was obvious they had the kind of resources that didn't seem to exist anymore. He looked closer at the gun. It was a small, powerful looking thing that Nick coveted immediately.

  “Allen, are you okay?”

  There was no answer. The mercenary moved cautiously toward the weeds. Dried stalks and new growth combined to make a seemingly impenetrable mat. He looked behind, to the sides, one step closer. Nick felt sweat running down his neck. He hesitated to warn him. If these were the men that he was looking for, they had gunned down a young woman for no apparent reason. Or was there a war he was unaware of? Was this a retaliation from the other side? Should he remain silent and let some other, unknown party take action? Nick saw the flicker again and the man went down. Not quite as soundless. A grunt and a muffled thud of impact. The hair stood up on Nick's arms. His hesitation may have cost a life, and he had no way to judge the consequence. He wasn’t even sure if they were dead or unconscious.

  Someone ran in a crouch from the weeds to the factory wall. Nick got his first look at the assailant. He was thin, but muscular, long white braid down his back, bright against tanned skin. Only a faded green tee shirt and jeans. Not a soldier. Not a mercenary. Then he turned and looked right at Nick, putting a finger to his lips for silence. Nick locked eyes on him. The man pointed to the wall and raised three fingers.

  Nick was stunned. How had he seen him? How did he know that Nick might be an ally? Before he could think of any answers, the man ghosted into the building. Nick ran over and took his place at the wall. Two against three were better odds, although he still wasn’t sure what the sides stood for. At the very least, he’d be able to see if the children were here. If not, he’d get back under cover in the woods double-time.

  The mercenaries had made a haphazard camp in the far corner of the building. Lamps flooded the area with light. Nick reassessed his assumptions about the soldiers. The setup didn’t look as organized as it could be. Three men sat at ease, one reading, one eating and the third poking at a cook fire. To one side a teenage boy was tied to a pillar. He'd been badly beaten. Nick felt sick looking at the kid. He concentrated hard until he saw the boy's chest rise. At least he was still alive. Who were these bastards that they would torture a boy? That eliminated any remorse he felt about the bodies in the weeds outside. But then another element of the scene hit him. One of the floodlights was trained on the boy, showing him clearly in the dark interior of the building. In Nick’s experience, that meant he was bait. Since he didn’t see a little girl, Nick assumed that she was the one they were hoping to draw in with bloody and battered William as the lure. Not a solid proposition for attracting a twelve year old girl.

  That lead him to believe that these men probably didn’t know that Iris was dead. It made more sense that the hostage was to get the older girl’s cooperation. When Nick found her body back in the house in Clarkeston, the dead mercenary was still there. He must have been alone when he attacked her. Nick didn’t think these men would be so sloppy as to leave behind one of their own to be identified. Which would explain why no one had searched the house for the notebooks.

  He looked through the shadows to find the white-haired guy, but couldn’t locate him. The mercenaries were still oblivious of the intruder. Nick was impressed with the guy’s skills, moving through broken glass and tumbled bricks without a sound. There were a million places to hide in the slumped walls and piles of debris inside the building. Nick would never have set up in a place like this. These guys were over confident. But Nick didn’t think three to one were good enough odds that he would have infiltrated on his own. He wondered what the white-haired guy’s plan was, and if he was working alone. The next move surprised him.

  The white-haired guy sauntered into camp. Apparently he’d been too quiet, so he scuffed a toe across a loose pile of stone. That caught their attention. There was an explosion of reaction, of anger and swearing. The mercenaries were on their feet, grabbing for weapons in a hot minute. The intruder was too fast to watch, white braid flying, tanned arms a blur. The first man went down with a roundhouse kick to the jaw. The second man shot at him as soon as his colleague hit the dirt. The intruder came in close with a rapid sequence of martial arts moves that made Nick think of the old Chinese movies. The gun flew across the factory, kicked out of his hand, and the second man went down. The guy at the cook fire charged with a burning branch. By the time Nick climbed through the broken window, that guy was down, too. He grinned. Who needed a plan when you had mad skills like that?

  “Come. The boy is injured.” The white-haired man stood examining the boy, clearly illuminated by the floodlight. Nick tripped over a brick, his question frozen in his throat. Pale eyes, super strength, and in the light he saw the numbers tattooed down his neck. The guy was a biobot. What did he want the child for? Nick raised his gun.


  “You did it!” A child's voice, high pitched and gleeful cut into Nick's deliberation. Out of the rubble a young girl ran over and hugged the biobot. “Oh, Wisp, you were right. The bad men hurt him. Can you fix him?”

  Nick was flummoxed. These two children must be William and Lily. There had not been any mention of a biobot. He was sure Angus would have definitely told him about something like that. “Are you Lily?”

  She slid a step behind the biobot, taking his hand. “Who are you?”

  The biobot spoke to her softly. “He will not hurt you Lily. He is a good man. He will help us with William.”

  Nick stared. How did he know?

  Chapter 8

  “At this point, with one crisis after another, the authorities stopped hunting any escaped biobots. Those with keepers were assumed to be under control. Those on the loose were expected to succumb in similar numbers to the virus. Records concerning them are difficult to find.”

  History of a Changed World, Angus T. Moss

  “I will cut the ropes, please hold the boy. He is unconscious.”

  Nick hesitated. It was a reasonable request, but he didn’t like taking orders from a biobot. Helping the children was the reason he was here. But it seemed he might not be alone in that. Lily looked totally at ease with the biobot, but considering her age, she couldn’t know what he was. To Nick, that was the biggest problem: what had the biobot been designed for? They ran the gamut from nursery maids to assassins, and considering what he just witnessed, this one hadn’t been built to care for babies. Nick needed to find out what their relationship was. She had obediently left when the biobot asked her to retrieve his pack.

  The biobot turned to look at him, his face gave nothing away as he waited. Nick twitched a nod of assent and moved closer to the boy. He flinched when the biobot flicked open a knife, but the blade only cut rope. Nick got a careful grip on the boy, William. He smelled awful, vomit and blood and urine. The bindings fell away, and he gently lowered William to the floor. The boy needed medical care. “We'll need to make a stretcher. I think White Bluffs has a doctor.”

  “No. Too close to the train station,” the biobot said.

  Nick frowned, not sure why that was a problem. Lily climbed in the window, dragging a heavy pack behind her. It thumped down the brick pile scattering broken bits and rusty red fragments. The biobot took it from her, lifting it easily. He knew they didn’t really have super-strength, but this one looked especially strong.

  “The stations are monitored. Until we know why the children are hunted, and by whom, we must remain out of sight.” The biobot pulled out a bottle of water and a scrap of toweling.

  “You don't know who these guys are?” Nick asked. He was starting to worry about which side he had inadvertently joined. But surely the one not torturing children was the right one.

  “No.” He wet the cloth and started wiping away the blood on William’s face.

  “Why are you here?”

  The biobot stopped. He turned his full attention to Nick for the first time. Nick felt his hackles rise as those pale blue eyes drilled into him. Then they turned away, and he felt sweat run down his back.

  “Lily, can you go get the guns I took from the men?”

  Nick watched the child skip off on her errand. He shivered. Collect the weapons from the dead men, little girl. This was all kinds of wrong. When he looked back, the pale eyes were measuring him again.

  “I am a finder. Lily hired me to find her brother.”

  “Hired you?” Nick shook his head. That wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Then the words sank in and a hot anger rushed through him. “What was your fee?” The biobot didn't react to the accusation, just looked him over before turning back to caring for William.

  “How could I take anything from a child who had lost all? She was alone.” He nodded at William. “This is her only family. I work for whom I choose.”

  Lily skipped back in to drop an armful of guns at the biobot's side. He picked up the one Nick had admired and handed it to him.

  Nick's head spun. Too many oddities to put together, but the injured boy had to be the first priority. “I'm Nick.” The pale eyes flicked over to him. “You got a plan?”

  “Can you drive?”

  “You have a car?”

  The biobot gestured to the bodies. “Theirs.”

  Despite the circumstance, Nick found himself grinning. A car. He hadn't even see a car in months, much less driven one. That thought followed the usual track and dumped him into gloomy reality. Did anyone still make cars? Were there enough hands left to run the assembly plants? And that made him turn back and look at the dead men lying in the dirt. Five less humans in the world.

  “Would you want their kind to procreate?”

  The hair stood up on Nick’s neck. “Are you really reading my mind?” A flicker of those pale eyes again. He thought he detected just a hint of amusement in them.

  “You think loudly.”

  Nick ignored the possible implications there and turned his attention to William. The biobot had washed away enough dirt to see the damage more clearly. It made him sick to see this kind of injuries on someone so young. Although in the world as it was these days, adolescent might now be an adult. At a glance, it looked like no bones were broken, but the bruises were dark with blood. His mouth was cut in a couple places. His cheekbone and one eyebrow had split open under what looked like repeated blows. Both eyes were swollen shut. The bruises across his stomach could indicate internal injuries. Even with a stretcher, carrying him miles down the road to the train was a good way to make things worse. The car was the best choice. Nick could bring William and Lily back to High Meadow. Although not as quickly as the train. It would be a long drive. They wouldn't get there until nearly this time tomorrow.

  “The car is over here.”

  Nick trailed the biobot out a wide doorway to what had probably been a loading dock. The wind was picking up, dead leaves scudded across the parking lot in the dim light of early evening. A big black van, shiny and sleek, sat on the cracked pavement. It matched the descriptions he’d gotten in High Bluffs, but most people had agreed on multiple vehicles. That worried Nick. The others might be on the way back.

  The biobot had opened a couple of lockers exposing more weapons, food and a large tool box with a caduceus on it by the time Nick stuck his head in. Then he stepped away, as if offering Nick all the booty.

  “Wow.” Nick couldn’t contain his amazement at the treasure trove—guns, ammo, bottles of water, packages of food that weren’t Crunch or Stew-goo, medical supplies that were hard to find. The vehicle looked like it could hold ten adults and their gear easily. The seats were designed to easily reconfigure. He looked over to see if the biobot was as surprised. Nick saw a different look on his face, the white-haired man was assessing him.

  “What is your interest in the children?”

  Nick shrugged. “What’s yours?”

  “I told you. Lily hired me.”

  “And you chose to work for free.” Nick could hear Lily’s voice, back in the building, but not the words. She was using a soothing tone as if to a restless baby. A child of the new world. She’d hired a biobot without a second thought. But he was from the old world, and he had lots of second thoughts. “I don't know you. Why would I trust you?” Nick said in a tone he hoped wasn't offensive. It was simply the truth.

  Pale eyes met his, but suddenly lurched away. “We need to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Something bad is happening.”

  “To the boy?”

  “No.” The biobot turned in a slow circle, head cocked as if listening for a faint sound. “Trouble at the settlement.” He gestured north. “We need to hurry.”

  “Why?” Nick was nervous about the situation. He didn’t know this man, or his reasons for helping the children. The last thing he felt like doing was getting in the van with him and heading to a strange settlement.

  “They may need help.” Pale eyes met Nick’s.
“You know them. Riverbank.”

  “The folks drying fish?” Nick nodded. He had just visited that settlement. They were good honest people trying to establish a settlement away from a med center. “What’s the problem?”

  “Unknown.”

  The statement sounded like a report to Nick, reassuring and unnerving at the same time. It would be good to work with a trained operative for once, but Nick wondered again what the biobot had been created for. And what had happened to his keeper. “Then how do you know there’s a problem?”

  “Panic. Fear.” As he spoke he closed up the lockers, collapsed a row of seats and lowered a panel that turned into a bed. “If I can feel it from here, it is a powerful emotion. Many people.” He stepped out of the van and faced Nick. “You do not need to come. If you wish to remain with the children, I can investigate on my own. But I will need the vehicle.”

  Nick didn’t like that option any better.

  * * *

  They loaded William into the back. Nick ran to collect his pack as the biobot made a quick survey of the camp collecting things from the bodies. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what he was taking. Looting the dead wasn't something Nick was comfortable with. By the time they were both back to the car, Lily had stationed herself at her brother's side. He looked at the sky, clouds were moving fast. A storm might be coming in after all.

  Nick got into the driver's seat as the biobot took shotgun. “What's your name?” He wasn’t about to start addressing him by the number on his tattoo.

  “My kind don't have names.”

  “Call him Wisp,” Lily piped from the back seat.

  Nick looked at the solidly muscled man sitting next to him. “Wisp, huh?”