by Mark Lingane
The slide changed and now showed a fat, unhappy cartoon person turning into a thin, happy cartoon person surrounded by lots of other thin, happy cartoon people.
“At first, everyone thought Famish was the holy grail of research, but it burned up energy so quickly that people had to eat.”
Another slide appeared showing a cartoon person happily grinning at a table stacked high with delicious food.
“Sometimes I feel like that,” Sebastian said. “In fact, I could use some food to watch this with. Maybe some cooked corn or something.”
Abi’s voice droned on. “Food became scarce, becoming critically low. So they turned on the only food source easily available. They started to eat themselves.”
Melanie and Sebastian’s eyes widened in horror as the image in front of them displayed the cartoon character biting into the leg of another person, obviously dead, because there were crosses drawn where there should have been eyes.
“Famish mutation increased. It started to deform people so they could eat better, more efficiently.” The images flicked past at a rapid rate now, showing cartoon versions of Abi’s descriptions. “Bigger mouths. Sharper teeth. More contagious virus. Bodies that were thinner and required less energy.”
Then the cartoon image turned into a real-life photograph. Charging at the photographer was a group of hideously deformed people. The image changed and they were closer, scrambling after some unseen prey. Then there were three, closer still, full of anger and greed, clawing each other out of the way, desperate to feast. Then there was one that filled the telescreen, its gaping maw of a mouth filled with jagged teeth and decaying flesh. Its blood-filled eyes stared ravenously ahead.
“They’re like land sharks, death machines.” Abi stared at them, his dark eyes seeing through them.
Melanie frowned. “But the ones we’ve seen don’t look like that.”
“Those are the weak ones, pushed out of the center because they can’t compete.”
“Weak?”
“Weak,” he solemnly repeated. His head nodded slowly, as though he was agreeing to a distant recollection. “Welcome to the urban jungle.”
There was a hiss from Melanie’s chair.
“All this because they wanted to be thinner?” Sebastian said. His face radiated his disbelief and disgust.
“You need to be careful with your wishes.”
“Or maybe wish to be something more meaningful, like cool and groovy. Or to be named Sebastian.”
There was silence while no one said anything at all.
“So, why are you here? Give me your story.” Abi reclined in his seat, folded his arms, and stared at them.
Melanie glanced at Sebastian. “Um, we had intended to, er, destroy the leader, topple the regime, restore peace, and, er, catch a ship into the void.”
Abi gave her a long stare. “I’m surprised you both felt the need to come. Surely one would’ve been enough.”
“Ah, you’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?” She waggled her finger at him.
“I give you exactly zero chance of succeeding in any of it. I give you zero chance in surviving one night outside this enclosure.”
“Actually, where are we?” Melanie asked.
“In the sewers. This was a massive hydro-plant powered by the river before you could walk on it. Now it’s a fortress and central headquarters for the rebellion. We call it the Fortress.”
“What are you rebelling against? If I were you, I’d leave.”
“We have information that says the leader has an antidote for all of this. If we could get it, we could stop the infected, and the infection, from spreading. We might even be able to cure some people who aren’t too far gone.”
Before Sebastian could mention the antidote, Melanie kicked him. His mouth snapped shut. “That’s very humane of you,” she said, to fill the awkward silence.
“As I said, I have my reasons.”
“Will you help us? Please?”
“No. You’re completely insane if you think you can achieve any of your objectives.”
“We’d have a better chance with you helping us.”
“No. See my previous comment. I’m not sacrificing any of my men on what’s guaranteed to be a suicidal mission.”
“Can you do anything for us?”
“I can give you food, a bed for the night, and some gas masks, all on the condition that you promise to leave the city tomorrow.”
“No. We’re going to complete what we set out to do.”
“Fine. I’ll give you a cell for the night. Tomorrow, you’ll be escorted at gunpoint out of the city. If you return, I’ll shoot you, maybe personally.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Melanie said, rising from her seat.
70
THEY WERE BACK in their cell. Sebastian folded his arms and purposely looked away from her. “You had to open your big mouth, didn’t you? And what happened to the psychotic death machine that always gets us out of trouble?”
“I was laughing.” She giggled again.
“What’s all that about?”
“It was the chair. It’s funny. Oh, come on. Fart noises are always funny. Maybe I’m tired.”
Abi appeared at the cell door. “Have you calmed down?”
“Yes, yes,” Melanie said, “but I don’t know why you can’t take a joke.”
“This is a serious place.”
Sebastian jumped up and wrapped his hands around the steel bars. “This is unfair.”
Melanie giggled behind him.
“You can go free once you’ve seen reason.” Abi turned and left.
Sebastian called out after him. Abi kept walking. Sebastian concentrated and the lock sprang open.
“How are you doing that?” Abi said.
“Even better,” Melanie said.
They stared at the intricately carved piece of ancient oak.
“Who’s ever heard of a wooden lock?” Sebastian said. “Do we tell them everything?”
Melanie shook her head. “If we do, they’ll never let us go.”
She sat for a while, thinking. Her mind was remarkably clear and thoughts came quickly. Most were inappropriate, so she filed them away for later examination. “Is it hot in here?” she said.
“No.”
“Okay, I’ve got an idea.”
She shouted and kept shouting until the guard found Abi for her.
“You’ve come to your senses?” Abi asked.
“Listen to me, you want to escort us out, right?”
He nodded.
“Can it be to anywhere?”
Abi hesitated.
“Could you escort us to the Hunter?”
“No.”
She argued with Abi for what seemed to Sebastian an eternity, repeating the same topics over and over again. Eventually, Abi gave in, worn down by her incessancy. The debate ended with an agreement for an early-morning start, freeing him from Melanie’s constant berating.
In the morning, a guard woke them and escorted them down to the deepest level of the hydro-plant. Damp permeated everywhere, adding a heavy musk to the air. Abi joined them, and the guard pushed them into the extremities of the station. He handed them over to a heavyset man with half of his head shaved. He had piercings through his lip and eyebrow.
“Get a small task force together and get these two close to the Hunter without endangering our people,” Abi said, addressing the pincushion of a man.
Abi turned to Melanie and Sebastian. “Diamond will give you some essentials in getting through the city. Don’t come back. I don’t like you. You keep too many secrets.” He turned and left, and the guard followed.
Diamond opened a heavy metal door, two feet thick. He bowed and indicated for them to enter. “Welcome to my dungeon,” he muttered, as they hesitantly stepped past him.
The first items they saw were their steambikes, securely chained to a trailer.
“Are these beauties yours?” Diamond asked.
Sebastian nodded enthusiastic
ally.
“I’d love to talk to you about some of the gear you’re carrying. Especially that suit with the guns attached. Folds down to hardly nothing.”
“The exosuit gets heaps of attention, right, Melanie?” There was no response. Sebastian turned around.
Three dark-skinned men, with heads shaved bald and naked torsos, were suiting up. Their muscles flexed and bounced as they moved. Melanie was staring at them, strangely silent. Sebastian prodded her until she returned her focus to Diamond. Even then, her eyes crept back to the changing men.
Diamond waited until she realized he was waiting for her to pay attention.
“Sorry, were you speaking to me?”
Diamond sighed. “As I was saying, these are the gas masks. They’re old but reliable. A good solid seal.” He pulled on the edges to prove his point. “Abi says you want to get to the Hunter’s abode. I got the guys suiting up for morning patrol. They can take you along with them.”
“What are you patrolling for?” Melanie said.
“We look for people we can recruit into the rebellion. You’d be amazed how many normal people are living out there in those towers.”
“You guys seem pretty dedicated to the cause.”
“Abi’s a great leader. We’d do anything for him,” said Diamond.
“What are his reasons for doing all this?”
“His wife. She’s out there somewhere, one of them. She thought she wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t thin enough for him, so she became part of Famish™. He won’t go until he finds her and brings her back.”
“Can you do that?” Melanie said. “They all look pretty far gone.”
“True love conquers all.”
“Hmm. I don’t think whoever came up with that knew about zombie death machines. Just a hunch.”
Diamond turned to the three men. “This is Finbar, Foobar, and Truck. These men are all I can spare at the moment. They’ll take you where you need to go. They’ll protect themselves before they protect you. But they’ll do their best to keep you safe.”
“Truck’s an odd name,” Melanie said.
“It rhymes with duck,” Truck said.
“How delicious.” Her eyes twinkled as the man smiled at her.
There was a whirring sound as the exosuits powered up. Great steel plates slid into place, connecting together around the men’s bodies. A turbine on the back of the suits spun frenetically, increasing with speed each time a part of the suit moved. They went through the testing procedure. Various parts of the suits opened and closed. A large gun attached to one side of the arms emitted a high-pitched tone, and turned blue as it rotated rapidly.
“I don’t know what any of it does, but it looks cool,” Sebastian said.
Melanie mumbled. She refrained from putting on her own lightweight exosuit. It felt inadequate next to the men’s suits, heavy with armor plating. She and Sebastian wore their basic armor, but kept their swords strapped on their backs for quick engagement. The light armor was flexible and secure. Speed was going to be their greatest advantage. They kicked the steambikes into life and revved the engines.
The three men in their fortresses of armor joined them facing the exit.
“This is a relatively simple run,” said Truck.
The great steel door opened, revealing a throng of starving bodies clamoring through the iron grating. Long arms reached through, willing them closer.
“Simple?” Melanie said.
“Normally there are hardly any of the infected there. The tide comes in and drowns any of them who are waiting.”
“They weren’t waiting for us, were they?”
Truck shrugged, his impressive shoulders heaving under the heavy armor. He rolled the mask down over his face and connected the inhaler to the purifier inside the front of his armor. Melanie and Sebastian followed suit.
The men moved out slowly in their exosuits, the heavy combat units making the ground vibrate as each footfall landed. They were impressive, but slow. Truck raised his arm. The attached gun glowed bright blue, then erupted. A piercing dark blue light shot down the tunnel and blasted through half a dozen infected. Limbs flew everywhere and thick blood splattered against the concrete.
“Simple,” Truck reiterated.
The men stomped out of the sewer and off toward the city. Melanie and Sebastian roared off after them.
71
THEY MOVED SLOWLY along the river, following ancient undulating paths. The sun reflected off the muddy water. With the smell removed, the beauty of the city shone. The snaking river reflected the light onto the buildings and vegetation, making the place sparkle. And as Melanie was enjoying the view, they were ambushed.
A dozen infected climbed over a railing from their hiding place beneath the walkway. They charged straight for Sebastian, who took the moment to zoom away. Then he leaped off the bike and sank his blade into an infected, just as it lunged for him.
Melanie ripped the sword off her back in one easy movement and brought it down into the skull of a charging infected. She drove the blade forward and pierced another infected coming up from behind. She slipped out her dagger and stabbed another in the ribs, clicked the release button on her sword to separate the main blade, and drove the smaller blade into the fourth. She exhaled.
An infected jumped up onto Finbar’s back. He reached up and grabbed the creature, flicked it over his shoulder and smashed it on the ground. He fired a quick blast from his automatic pistol into its head. Another infected hit him in the back. Finbar stopped and looked back over his shoulder. The infected stood there momentarily before running away.
Finbar returned his focus to walking forward. There was another smack on his back. He turned and shot the infected that was scrabbling for purchase on the great plates. He grabbed two that were climbing up Foobar’s back, smashed them together, and flung them on the ground. He strode over them heavily, crushing their bones.
Truck turned to Sebastian. “They targeted you. I’ve never seen that before. Is there something we should know about you?”
“No,” Sebastian said. “Maybe. I’m a tesla.”
“What’s that?”
Sebastian gave him the marketing pitch.
Truck was unmoved. “Don’t see why that would make no difference. They got no metal inside of them. They don’t even use weapons. Maybe you remind them of someone. But the little lady’s impressive. Moves like lightning.” He grinned at Melanie. “You’re not going to do anything weird, are you, like lick the sword?”
“Why would I do that?” she replied, pushing the tantalizing idea to the back of her mind.
“Good fighters tend to go weird over time.”
Truck called the other two over. “We’re shifting to square formation. I’ll go point, you two flank him,” he said, indicating Sebastian, “and the psycho at the back. This might not be as simple as I first thought.”
The small group crawled along beside the river, repelling several attacks on the way. They turned inland and trekked up a hill toward the great towers making up the center of the city. The first buildings surrounded them, broken and twisted forms ravaged by time and intense weather.
They heard sounds from the floors above. There was a round of fire and Truck swore. They all dove for cover.
“You said they didn’t use weapons,” Melanie shouted. She stomped on her exosuit and it sprang up into the air. Within seconds, she was fully suited.
Several bullets ricocheted over Truck’s armor. “I like the suit,” he said to Melanie. He turned to the building. “Could be pirates. Generally, they don’t attack people in here because they buy and sell supplies, and get favors off them. Let’s hope it’s that, because I don’t want to think of a world where the infected learn how to use weapons.”
Truck and Foobar returned the fire, with Melanie gleefully joining in. Their heavier weaponry could do serious damage to the buildings. The firing stopped—enemy contained—and they moved on.
They came to a crossroads.
“Where next?” Melanie said.
“Third left. Head up Anne Street. You’ll pass the void riders’ quarters on the left, then at the top of the hill, follow the road to the right.”
“Void riders? We need to go there,” Sebastian said.
“There’s no need in this world to stop at the Hellfire Club,” Truck said.
“I need to catch one of the voidships to the North America.”
“What happened to taking down the Hunter?”
“That, too.”
“If you go in to the void riders, we’ll have to turn back,” Truck said. “We’re not going in there, and we’re not waiting around.”
“Oh, come on,” Sebastian said.
“No. It wasn’t part of the agreement. You go in there, we go home.”
“How far are we from where the Hunter is?” Sebastian asked.
“You mean the temple. It’s the best part of a day’s forced march. Get to the top of Anne Street and you’ll be able to see the top of the temple in the distance, golden glass stacking up over twenty stories high. You can’t miss it.”
“Okay,” Sebastian said, “but I need to go see the void riders. It’s more important than the Hunter.”
Truck looked at the earnestness in Sebastian’s eyes and saw there was no stopping him. “I’ll take you there, but only because we get to go home early.”
He led the way up the hill. Nearing the top, he pulled into an alcove opposite an imposing concrete and steel wall. There was a heavy door in the middle of it, with a small grating set in its center.
“You want the void riders,” said Truck, “you’ll find them in there.”
They both started toward the small, reinforced building.
Truck held Melanie back. “Two rules. You can’t go in with weapons, not ones you can see anyway, and no women.”
Melanie bridled. She rocked back the mechanism of the exosuit and glared at him.