Forsaken (The Forgotten Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  “I’ve got it,” he said. “Let me go.”

  “Let’s not take any chances, Sheriff,” Jake said.

  They moved out into a small, narrow hallway with a stairwell at each end. Hank turned to the right and kept walking. Jake pulled Hayden to the left.

  “This way,” Jake said.

  Hayden let the kid guide him. They could both hear Hank’s footfalls on the stairs and then the floor above them as they moved.

  “Gregor,” Hank said. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Grep your pleasure, old man. I want pleasure, I go to Haven and pay for it. I’m looking for someone. He stole one of the horses we took from you.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” Hank asked.

  “We thought maybe your mare brought our person of interest back here to you. He was pretty badly injured.”

  “More likely he fell off the horse,” Hank said. “Cass came back all right, but there was nobody on her. I figured she broke loose of you lot.”

  “You’re sure she was alone?” Gregor asked. “It would be a shame if any more trouble came down on you, wouldn’t it, Hank? It already cost you your hand and your wife.”

  Jake and Hayden were moving toward the stairs at the opposite end when Hayden heard that. He froze in place, looking back at the distant steps, and then at his new appendage.

  “Sheriff,” Jake said. “Don’t. We have to keep moving. You start trouble here, you’ll get us all killed.”

  “There’s only one of them,” Hayden said.

  “There’s never only one of them unless it’s Ghost,” Jake replied. “How are your legs?”

  “Weak,” Hayden admitted. “You were right about me not being ready to move.”

  “I wish we had another choice. Here’s what we’re going to do. These stairs lead to the back of the house. You wait there while I sneak around and grab Cass. We get to her, and we get out of here.”

  “What about your father?”

  “He can handle himself. It’s not strange for me to be gone. I go to Haven a lot.”

  “How far is it?”

  “Thirty miles. I’m not saying they’re easy miles, but I’ve done it plenty of times before.”

  “Pozz,” Hayden said.

  “Pozz?” Jake asked.

  “It means yes, or affirmative.”

  They reached the stairs.

  “Got it. Wait at the top. Stay silent.”

  Jake helped Hayden to the top of the steps, blocked off by a closed door resting horizontally at the top. He unlatched it and slowly pushed it open, scanning the area. When he decided it was clear, he climbed out. Hayden saw Jake’s feet quickly crossing a small clearing before the door settled closed.

  “Gregor, I promise,” Hank said. “Why would I lie to you? Do you think I’d protect some half-dead stranger if he did show up at my door? What good would that do me?”

  “You’ve denied us before, Hank. Don’t forget about that. You could have given Pig your wife, but you had to make him take her, right along with your arm. She might still be alive if you hadn’t been so damn stubborn.”

  Hayden felt his face flush. So that was why the old man and his son were helping him.

  “No man has a right to whatever he wants just because he wants it,” Hank said. “Not even Pig.”

  He could hear the Scrapper laughing. “You see, Hank, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. It’s a good thing for you Pig is dead.”

  A few seconds of silence passed before Hank spoke.

  “Good riddance.”

  More silence. Where the hell was Jake?

  “You don’t sound very surprised,” Gregor said.

  “I. I.” Hank froze again. “I just don’t know what to say. Who? How?”

  “The grepper we’re looking for, that’s who. Burned his brain right out with this.”

  “What is it?” Hank asked.

  “A laser pistol,” Gregor said. “Our target dropped it outside the building we were holing up in after a pair of goliaths showed up and killed most of our crew. Lucky for me, I was underground when it happened. Do you want to see how it works?”

  “Uh. Gregor, I. Ahhh.”

  Hayden didn’t hear anything, but he knew the laser pistol didn’t make any noise when it was fired. Where had Gregor shot Hank? The arm? The leg?

  “Where is he?” Gregor shouted.

  “I. I swear I don’t know,” Hank said between moans of pain. “Shit, Gregor, I grepping swear.”

  “What happened to your arm, Hank?” Gregor said. “Where’s your replacement? Where’s your fool son, for that matter?”

  Hayden wanted to go up there, to help the old man who had helped to save his life. He had unwittingly brought the Scrappers to them. It didn’t matter if they had decided to help him.

  Where the hell was Jake?

  The door upstairs opened. Something thumped onto the floor.

  “I found the Borger outside. He was leading the horse somewhere.”

  “I see,” Gregor said. “Where were you going, Jake?”

  “Grep you,” Jake said.

  “Jake!” Hank shouted. “Don’t.”

  “Dad?” Jake said, apparently seeing his father had been shot. “You didn’t have to hurt him. He doesn’t know anything.”

  “Well, then what do you know, Jake?” Gregor said.

  “Please,” Hank said. “Leave my son alone. You’ve already taken my wife. Isn’t that enough?”

  Hayden bit his lip as he forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t sit there and let them both die for him. He couldn’t let the Scrappers get away with this.

  He pushed on the cellar door, shoving it open and stepping out. There was a brick wall directly behind him, the foundation of the home. A pair of steep hills were on both sides of the home, a natural barrier against the goliath. A small field with a run-down stable sat further back.

  He made his way along the house until he reached the corner. He looked around the side. Four more horses were waiting there. He recognized them from the airlock inside the Pilgrim. His eyes shifted to the house, to the two guards waiting at the door in front of it. They were still wearing the roughspun robes, but they had removed their masks. What was the apparatus for if not to prevent them from getting the xenotrife disease?

  He could see the revolver resting on one of the guards’ hips. Could he reach them before the guard could draw, aim, and fire the weapon?

  He had to.

  He took in a few quick breaths, flexing his legs a few times to make sure he wouldn’t collapse on the way.

  Then he charged.

  “Raaaaaa,” he shouted, drawing their attention as he ran at them.

  Both guards were taken by surprise, and they fumbled for their guns, giving him the time he needed. He reached the first as the heavy sidearm came to the guard’s hand, slashing hard with his new claws. They passed easily through the man’s throat, nearly severing his head and killing him instantly.

  He caught the body with his other hand, holding it up as the second guard planted a slug in it. Hayden used his momentum to throw the corpse into the guard, following behind it as the man stepped aside, only to be greeted with a set of sharp claws slicing through the side of his face. Flesh and muscle, bone and brain were all torn aside by the surgically sharp blades.

  Hayden’s legs were burning, but he changed direction, heading for the door. The third Scrapper was in the middle of trying to pull it open to get at him, and he saved him the trouble, stabbing forward with the claws, smiling savagely when they went through the wood and into the Scrapper’s chest.

  He kept pushing, moving the dying man out of the way. He bent at the entrance, retrieving the Scrapper’s gun. Then he entered the house. He was in a small foyer. A handmade vase of wildflowers rested on an old wood table. A faded color photograph of a woman hung above it. To his right, he could see the Scrapper, Gregor, had the laser pistol up against Jake’s head.

  “Stop,” Gregor commanded. “Or he dies.�
��

  Hayden took a few steps forward, leaning on the frame of the doorway to keep himself from falling.

  “I said stop,” Gregor said, pushing the muzzle against Jake’s head.

  “Kill him,” Jake said. “Or he’ll kill us all.”

  “I killed Pig,” Hayden said, acting tougher than he felt. “You look like a little piece of shit compared to him. Drop the gun, and you’ll get out of here alive.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Gregor said. “Don’t grep with me, Insider.”

  “Did you come for access to Metro? Is that why you’re here?”

  “King will reward me for bringing you in.”

  “I can’t open it. I can’t open the hatch. Nobody can except the Governor, and he’s Inside.”

  “I don’t believe you. Pig said you could get us in. He said there’s treasure in there. He heard the stories.”

  “I don’t care if you believe me. It’s true. If you kill these people, then I kill you. Or you can drop the gun and walk away. Nobody has to know you were ever here.”

  “You can’t reach me before I burn a hole in his head.”

  “Are you sure you want to take that chance?”

  “I-”

  Hank shifted, lunging toward the Scrapper.

  “Hank, no,” Hayden said.

  Gregor turned the pistol on the old man, squeezing the trigger at the same time Hayden fired the revolver, whose muzzle had been placed against the flimsy looking wall of the farmhouse.

  Hank’s body hit the floor with a thud; a fresh hole burned right through his brain. Gregor was knocked sideways by the impact of the heavy slug, a spray of blood launching from him as the round hit him in the shoulder.

  Then Hayden was on him, claws slashing hard across the Scrapper’s chest, cutting him open from collar to pelvis. Gregor crumpled back and didn’t move.

  “Dad,” Jake said, crawling to his father on his knees.

  Hayden fell to his knees, too, failing to keep himself steady.

  Jake reached down, putting his fingers on his father’s neck and searching for a pulse. Hayden knew he wouldn’t find one.

  “No. Damn it. No.” Jake looked at Hayden. “He’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hayden said. “I tried.”

  Jake’s face tightened against the pain. He nodded. “I know. And I know Gregor. He would have killed us both and then found you anyway. You saved my life.”

  “I led them right to you.”

  “You didn’t,” Jake insisted. “Cass did. You weren’t even conscious when she turned up. It isn’t your fault.”

  “I wish I could have saved you both.”

  “That’s because you’re one of the good guys, Sheriff.” He looked back at his father, but he didn’t let himself sob. “He’s with my mother now. Where he belongs.”

  He put his hand on Hank’s shoulder and whispered something under his breath. Then he pushed himself back to his feet.

  “We have to go,” he said. “When Gregor doesn’t report in, they’ll be coming to find him.”

  Hayden grimaced as he fought to get to his feet. “Take the pistol,” he said. “It’s a good gun.”

  “We’ll take more than that,” Jake replied.

  5

  HAYDEN FINISHED WRAPPING himself in the Scrapper’s robes, appreciative of the way they covered his new hand as long as he kept it at his side. Jake was close by, digging through one of the horses’ saddlebags and tossing the stuff he didn’t want to the ground.

  “Are you looking for something specific?” Hayden asked.

  “Yes,” Jake replied. “The Scrappers usually carry firebombs. I want to burn the farmhouse down.”

  “Burn it down? This is your home.”

  Jake stopped and looked at him. He had taken one of the other Scrapper’s robes. It had a bloodstain on the shoulder. “This was my home, Sheriff. I stayed with my Dad, to help him as he got older. There’s nothing for me here now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hayden said again.

  “I know. And I know that no matter how many times I tell you not to be, you still will be. I like that about you.”

  He resumed his search, finding what he wanted a few seconds later. He lifted it out. A glass cylinder with liquid at the bottom and a rag stuffed into the top. It was a primitive thing.

  “The Scrappers were wearing those masks inside the Pilgrim,” Hayden said, pointing at one of the discarded devices. “Do you know why? I thought it was to keep from getting infected, but you said they’re all immune.”

  Jake looked down at the mask, which was connected to a small, square tank by a short tube.

  “A lot of them wear these,” he said. “They’re filled with nitrous oxide. They use it to get high, and stay that way.”

  “A narcotic?”

  “In a sense.”

  “Are drugs illegal here?”

  Jake laughed. “Sheriff, nothing is illegal here. As long as you don’t cross King, you’re pretty much free to do whatever the hell you please.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What’s to understand? The world went to hell. It’s as simple as that.”

  “But we were fighting the trife.”

  “We lost. Years ago. It’s been a long time, Sheriff. A really long time. The farmhouse here, it was built two hundred years ago. By who? I have no idea. My parents happened across it while they were trying to migrate from Haven. They decided to stay. Then, my Dad, he came across some wild horses and managed to tame them. And you’re saying you were on your starship almost twice as long as that.”

  “But humankind is still here. We didn’t go extinct.”

  “We’re in a constant state of flux. The whole planet is. We change, the trife change, the goliath change, and so on and so on. The bottom line is that we haven’t been able to mount any kind of lasting defense. We haven’t been able to restore stable lines of communication, maintain industry or large-scale agriculture, or any of the other things a society needs to grow and organize. We’re spread out and cut off. It’s been that way for a long time, and now most folks just accept it. A hard life, local justice, or tyrants as the case may be. It’s like those old movies. The wild west. Four centuries ago, the trife came, and civilization ended. Full stop.”

  Hayden was silent for a moment.

  “So men like King come into power?” he asked. “They make all the rules?”

  “Pretty much. Like I said, local justice. You wrong me or mine, and I have every right to wrong you back. Unless you’re a Scrapper.” He spit on the mask at his feet. “Grep that. They took your wife. They killed both my folks. As far as I’m concerned, you and me, we’re at war.”

  “I don’t want to be at war.”

  Jake laughed. “You shouldn’t have sliced those men’s heads off then, eh, Sheriff? You shouldn’t have gutted Gregor or killed Pig. The Scrappers might take you alive, but only until they get what they want from you or you finally convince them they can’t.”

  “There has to be more, though.”

  “What do you mean, more?”

  “A way to start rebuilding? A way to destroy the trife? Something? The Pilgrim had a research module in it. They were working on the way to make the trife sick, the way they made us sick. They weren’t the only ones.”

  “There may be people out there doing what you say, Sheriff. I only know what’s happening between here and Haven. But I wouldn’t count on it. Four hundred years is a long time to be trying to work something like that out. If it could be done, you’d think it would have been done already.”

  “Is all of that history really lost?”

  “A lot of it is. Lost and forgotten.”

  Jake turned away from him, digging into his pocket. He pulled out a small device, pressed a switch, and put it to the rag. A second later, the cloth was on fire.

  “Here’s to the future, Sheriff,” Jake said, heaving the cylinder toward the house.

  It hit a window, going through it with a crash. A thump followed a f
ew seconds later, and the inside of the farmhouse lit up as the flames started to spread.

  Two hundred years, and it was going to vanish just like that.

  Just like human civilization.

  “We better get moving,” Jake said, turning away from the place as smoke started pouring out the broken window. “You can take Cass; she seems to like you. I’ll take Virgo. The rest of them will go back to being free, I suppose.”

  Hayden was standing next to the mare, who seemed unaffected by everything going on around her.

  “Jake,” Hayden said. “One small problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know how to ride.”

  “You found your way here, Sheriff. You know how to ride.” He smiled. “Maybe just not how to steer. I’ll show you the ropes once we’re away from here. The smoke’s going to attract the trife, and the trife might attract a goliath. If we’re lucky, a few Scrappers will wind up in the middle of that mess.”

  Hayden put his boot in the stirrup, pulling himself awkwardly into the saddle. Jake hopped onto Virgo, a larger brown stallion who didn’t seem nearly as calm as his ride. The horse snorted as Jake took the reins, bringing him to Hayden and picking up Cass’ lead.

  “All you have to do right now is hang on,” Jake said.

  “I can do that,” Hayden replied, keeping a grip on the saddle.

  His body was still sore, and when they started walking every jostle hurt. He would deal with that pain for as long as he needed. It was a small price to pay to be moving forward again.

  The next ten minutes passed in silence, both Hayden and Jake lost in their own thoughts.

  Then the ground shivered softly, and Jake’s horse tossed its head and whined.

  “I was right,” Jake said, turning his head back toward the house.

  Hayden looked back, too. The vague outline of a goliath was coming into focus on a hazy horizon.

  “What kept the trife away from the house before?” Hayden asked.

  “Who said they stay away?” Jake replied. “They don’t have any interest in horses, but the horses get real worked up when they’re close. We always heard them making a fuss in plenty of time to hide. I knew the smoke would bring them back.”