Soul of the Reaper: A military Scifi Epic (The Last Reaper Book 11)

by J. N. Chaney

  We continued without a word, quickly reaching the destroyed city block. The skeleton of one corner thrust up metal beams and crumbling concrete. A mountain of debris had settled, but who knew how stable it was.

  “We can move around the worst of it. Shouldn’t slow us much,” Bug said.

  I stared at the destruction, trying not to think too much. Most of my military service had been in special operations, which meant small surgical strikes against known targets. Dark ops and the Reaper Corps had been even more specific, if darker in purpose.

  Bug joined me. Jaw set, both hands on his weapon, his face showed the lines of someone who wished a lot of things had happened differently—and not just today.

  X-37 heard the voices a half second before I did. “Cries of distress detected. Estimating fifty meters straight ahead and to your left, probably beneath the rubble.”

  “Bug, there were people in that building,” I said, already moving forward.

  He grabbed my arm. “Has to be your imagination. This area is mostly deserted. You’re probably just hearing ghosts. I’ve got pretty good ears.”

  “I have a limited artificial intelligence analyzing everything I bring in through my natural senses,” I said. About that time, his expression changed, probably because he also heard crying.

  “Sounds like kids, of course.”

  He shook his head. “Everybody sounds like a kid when they’re in pain. If you’re going to do this, take your time. That pile of junk is unstable. There is a reason people don’t live in these buildings. Many were targets in the early attack.”

  “That makes no tactical sense,” I said, pondering the puzzle before me—big pieces, little pieces, and broken pieces tangled together in a mess that couldn’t be put back together.

  “There was a reign of terror to destabilize the population,” Bug said.

  I was barely listening.

  “There is something else, Reaper Cain. I have detected a Mark 98 vambrace.”

  “Is that excitement I hear in your voice, X?”

  “Of course not. It is merely my duty to inform you that the Mark 98 is a superior device for holding my data-webs and base protocols. With a top notch kinetic charger, as well as a heat sink that will not only help cool you but power me, the 98 would be worth keeping even after the neural synchronization is complete. You will like its form and function as well. No more lugging around the backpack.”

  “I don’t know what your LAI is telling you, but try not to look so excited. I hear them now, and we probably can’t help them. Or shouldn’t,” Bug said.

  “What do you mean?” I picked out a path through the first section of rubble but waited for his answer.

  “You can’t save everyone. If you have a death wish, go ahead,” he said.

  I looked him over. “You coming?”

  “Of course I am.” He shoved past me and headed into the debris field. “I don’t have much left anyway, so why not? How the hell did I get involved with a clone?”

  “Hey, clones are people too,” I said, joining him at the first major obstruction. Metal beams pointed in every direction with little room to slip through.

  “I believe we established that you are not, in fact, a clone,” X-37 said.

  “It doesn’t matter, X. I’ll play the hand I’m dealt.”

  My LAI hesitated, displaying scans of the best route through the destruction in my HUD before answering. “Very good. I will mark search for evidence of Halek Cain’s origin as complete in my task folder.”

  I put a hand on Bug’s shoulder to stop him from going farther. “Let’s move individually. I’ll take the lead. X is giving me some hints. We don’t want to fall at the same time.”

  “You can say that again,” he said. “I’d rather not fall at all.”

  I picked my way through an irregular ladder of concrete chunks, stopping once to bend a rusty piece of rebar out of the way. It gave way the moment I leaned on it. I glanced back. “Wouldn’t want you to fall on that.”

  “You know me, I’m so clumsy.”

  I smiled at his self-deprecating humor. We had come a long way since chatting on an intercom about cheese crackers.

  I reached a giant gap invisible from where we had started. One step farther and I would have tumbled into the basement three levels below. The way down wasn’t straight. Nothing had collapsed in a predictable order. In one corner of the lowest level I saw water, but it was filled with the rainbow colors of oil or some other chemical.

  “I’ll work my way down. Stay up here.”

  Bug gave me a thumbs up.

  Wishing I had a decent set of gloves, I scaled the uneven surface quickly, concerned that I no longer heard the cries for help.

  I grabbed a piece of concrete with my left hand, then moved my feet lower until I could wiggle my toes into crevices. When I took my right hand off of the previous grip, the weight transfer to my left hand pulled the handhold free.

  My toes slid off the narrow ledge. I grabbed for a piece of metal with my right hand-- and missed.

  Falling wasn’t bad if you knew how to land. In this environment, I’d be lucky not to impale myself or break my neck. My left shoulder struck something. I grabbed for anything within reach. My feet smacked into something that I didn’t see. Pain bloomed in both ankles.

  After that, I was rolling in a cloud of dust and curses.

  X-37 gave me five seconds after I stopped. “I believe you have fallen past the person in distress, but you may be able to reach the Mark 98 vambrace.”

  I rolled into a seated position, but one of my legs was locked in an unnatural angle. I lay backward and let my arms fall out to each side, thankful there was enough room to stretch out and ease my suffering. I was in trouble but didn’t want to face the fact that my right foot was stuck in a cinder block. As long as I didn’t attempt to wiggle it free, I could pretend it was nothing. No big deal, Hal, just a minor inconvenience down here at the bottom of a building collapse.

  “My last update might have been for informational purposes only. You seem to be quite thoroughly wedged into this predicament,” X-37 said.

  “You nailed it, X. I’m stuck.”

  Bug called down. “You alive, Reaper?”

  “Yeah. Everything is under control. Totally going according to plan.”

  “Doesn’t look like it from up here. A lot of stuff came loose during your fall. I need to find a rope. We left mine escaping the Razors and whatnot.”

  “I’ll be right here when you get back,” I said.

  “Listen for the survivors. I haven’t heard a squeak from them since we got here,” Bug said. “I’ll come back either way. Rope isn’t easy to find these days.”

  “Don’t take all day. We’re on a tight schedule.”

  He didn’t answer, because he was already gone.

  “There is one more vitally important fact you must attend to, Reaper Cain.”

  “Hit me with it, X. This cluster frak can’t get much worse.”

  “You dropped the backpack,” X-37 said. “I am submerged in a highly questionable liquid. The fabric of the backpack is water resistant, but can’t protect me indefinitely.”

  “I’ll come get you,” I said just as I heard a muted cry for help far to my left.

  “That is an admirable statement, Reaper Cain. You are, however, quite thoroughly stuck. I am barely within range to sense your biometrics.”

  “Keep me updated. I’m working on my ankle.”

  “It appears you are quite motionless, Reaper Cain.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s part of my process. Don’t rush me.”

  “Shall I add that to our standard operating procedure?”

  I thought about it. “No. Just hold your horses—and don’t lecture me on metaphors right now.” I untangled my D3D, made sure the safety was firmly in place, and started chipping away at the concrete with the buttstock.

  “You have a knife,” X-37 said.

  “Yeah, but I like that knife,” I said. “And it’s not
long enough.”

  I continued the slowest escape I’d ever made, chipping away one granule of concrete dust at a time. Whoever built this building hadn’t skimped on quality materials. That made me wonder what the JFT had done to it to cause the collapse. The invasion must have been brutal. Was every building in this city unstable?

  “Is someone there?” The woman sounded like an adult, which brought to mind Bug’s statement about everyone sounding like a child when in pain.

  “I hear you. Are you alone and can you get free? Can you come to the sound of my voice?” I asked.

  “There are about fifteen of us, and we can’t get out. There’s a metal beam across the only gap big enough. Everything else is a mountain of rubble,” she said.

  “Fifteen people,” I muttered. “This sucks.”

  “What did you say?” she asked.

  “I have someone going for help or tools, whichever he finds first,” I said.

  “Thank you, sir,” an old man said, then coughed violently.

  “Just hang tight. Do what you can. We’ll figure something out,” I said.

  “A mixture of water and petroleum has soaked through the backpack and is now in direct contact with the computer. Were the device in perfect condition, time would not be as important. Unfortunately, I believe you must do something soon or start looking for a new LAI.”

  “Don’t worry, X. I’ve got this.”

  Rubble shifted, gently at first, then violently. When the dust settled, I realized the survivors must be in worse shape than I was—which was saying something, because I was buried up to both knees. X-37 refused to answer, and Bug wasn’t coming back.

  Sometimes a Reaper just knew shit.

  22

  “Reaper Cain—”

  I waited ten seconds. X-37 flashed nonsense in my HUD, random numbers and symbols. Shadows moved high above the remains of the building. I couldn’t see the sun directly, but knew it was failing. X-37 wasn’t talking to me, the trapped civilians weren’t asking for help, and Bug still wasn’t back.

  Worse, I fantasized about sleep. I’d lost blood but didn’t remember bleeding. My dry throat didn’t want to work and lying on my back had gone from relaxing to torture. Nothing was getting my legs out from under the concrete blocks. The only good news was that they weren’t being crushed. If I could escape, walking would be possible despite tingling numbness from my quadriceps to my toes.

  At least I could feel everything. Numbness wasn’t a lack of sensation. It was more like ten thousand delightful little needles dancing through my nerves. Yay me.

  Ten feet above me, off to my left, there was a gap filled with the harsh sunlight of the dying day. Something whirred through the gap, creating a shadow.

  I held my breath. Drones.

  X-37 would have warned me if he could. He was either hiding from a digital predator or blocked. I wasn’t sure which scenario was worse.

  The sound and the shadow moved away. I searched with my eyes, afraid to move my head. The rise and fall of my chest seemed like it would give me away. By itself, a drone shouldn’t be a problem, though I had seen killer drones with explosive charges or poison darts. Certain elements of the Reaper Corps had loved them.

  Not me. Never felt right about killing from a distance. Besides, my joystick skills were merely excellent when they needed to be galactic class to compete with that type of cyber warrior.

  When I saw it, a chill went up my spine. The delicate machine flew like a collection of razor blades held together by magnetic fields rather than nuts and bolts. If these things were equal to high level Union tech, they could be as small as a wristwatch or large as an assault shuttle.

  None of that was my biggest problem. Artillery units often used military drones as forward observers. A surgical strike would end my problems quickly. I wondered if this was why the civilians had gone quiet.

  Two of the flying spider drones joined the first. They formed a triangle of sharp angles and quiet motors. Watching them work through the rubble fascinated me. I couldn’t look away.

  All three extended eight or nine legs each and landed in perfect unison. Each turned three hundred and sixty degrees before analyzing what they had seen—or that was what it looked like. These little monsters were more like X-37 than me, so I used what I knew about my LAI to interpret their actions.

  A fourth landed before the first three ranged out from their beachhead like scouts. The boss drone stood like it was asleep, but of course it wasn’t. The little metal assholes were ruthless killing machines, working as a team without the distractions of ego, fear, or mercy.

  “I’m scared,” I muttered, bracing myself for the inevitable. I was, of course, despite my sarcasm, and it took a lot for a Reaper to feel vulnerable.

  Vulnerable, but not helpless.

  I turned my D3D toward them, holding it with the stock in the air rather than on my shoulder. This would be an instinct shot, easy at this range.

  Two came through the last tunnel of concrete and rebar, sprinting toward my face the moment they saw me. I fired twice, thanking the universe that the D3D had automatic sound dampening features. Who wants to be sliced to bits by drones and deafened by gunfire?

  Not this guy.

  Both drones exploded.

  The third came after them like a snake striking out of the darkness, right past the barrel of the D3D. I struck it away with my left palm, instinctively holding my weapon away with my other hand. Gun retention was key in a close fight, if you were fighting a person.

  I dropped the D3D and fended off the relentless machine with both hands. Blood spattered the debris cave as I beat it away from my face. Five seconds into the battle, I grabbed it but it extended needles all over its body forcing me to toss it away.

  The fourth drone whizzed through the tunnels only these things could navigate, then dashed at my blind spot. I back-fisted it into a wall of crumbling concrete. Dust exploded into the air. Every move the drones made became like three-dimensional art, disorienting and beautiful—not that I had time to appreciate the swirls of dust and light.

  I sat up as far as I could, then flopped down to avoid their next assault. The move torqued my back, strained my hip flexors, and awakened pain in my legs. Super helpful.

  My left hand pounded at one drone with brute force.

  I grabbed repeatedly at the other with my right and finally snagged it. This time when the needles deployed, I screamed through the pain, held on, and slammed it against the other drone.

  Both machines fell stunned—magnetic fields disorganized. I seized them and began pummeling the nearest collection of rebar with their delicate, if sharp, bodies. When they finally disintegrated, I flung away the pieces and curled my bloody hands to my chest. No one was around but I refused to cry.

  Maybe there was some internal sobbing.

  All of my sounds were definitely manly as fuck. No one was around to tell me different.

  “Well done, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I tried to warn you but you weren’t listening.”

  “Trust me, X, I was listening but you weren’t talking.”

  He paused. “I am filing this information under the tag: very concerning. If they can block our communications without my knowledge, there must be other technological advantages they have over my design.”

  “The hits just keep rolling.”

  “I do not understand what you just said, Reaper Cain. Can you please focus? We are in a terrible situation,” X-37 said.

  “No shit? I was just chilling. Everything seems like rainbows and unicorns from where I’m lying pinned under a million tons of rubble. What have you been doing besides not helping me at all?”

  X-37 used his most patient voice. “Reaper Cain, were I able to feel emotions, that would have hurt. I am a limited artificial intelligence, not a miracle worker. You must do your part. And by the way, why were you making those pathetic sounds?”

  “Wasn’t.”

  “Wasn’t what, Reaper Cain? Please clarify.”


  “I wasn’t crying. Erase that part from the mission log.”

  “Erasing non-essential data from the log,” X-37 said. “Shall we continue?”

  The nerve of my LAI really couldn’t be measured. I took a few calming breaths, then lifted my hands from where I had them pressed against my chest. They were still bleeding from cuts and punctures, but slowly. My problem now was that they ached like someone had struck every finger tip and joint with hammers.

  “Hey mister,” a boy shouted. “My mom can’t talk right now and mister Jeffers doesn’t want to have another coughing fit.”

  “Are you and the others okay?” I asked.

  “Better than you, sounds like. Can you get us out of here. I need to pee and my little sister already did. Not smelling great here. Oh, we could use something to eat. And lemonade. I’d really like some lemonade.”

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “Seriously? Things have been bad. We need everything,” he said.

  “Why don’t we start with getting out of this building collapse?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that sounds cool. How soon can you free us?”

  “I’m working on it. Now shut up until I call for you, but answer immediately when I do.”

  “Sure, mister. You don’t have to be a dick,” the boy said.

  “Why does this keep happening to me, X?”

  “You make poor decisions and disregard my advice,” X said too quickly.

  I wiggled my legs, pretending I could get them free with patience and a bit of luck. “Where were you, X?”

  “The drones you fought off appear to be dual purpose models, antipersonnel and anti-technology. They would have wiped my algorithms from your neural network. Were I fully integrated, this wouldn’t have been a danger. Unfortunately, we are currently vulnerable to this type of attack. And please remember that I am completely submerged in a mixture of oil and water. You must obtain the Mark 98 vambrace and retrieve my computer host from this water grave.”

  “You know what would be great? If someone would ask what I need. Because I could use some help.”

  X-37 beeped patiently. “I cannot offer you any form of physical assistance beyond a boost to your hormone profile and metabolic rate, were I fully integrated.”