“Think about it. What do you think would happen if the public knew that, conservatively, there were 20 million of these half alive, or mostly dead, things out there? Just a few miles north by land or a few miles across the bay, you’d want the Air Force to bomb it to rubble then set it ablaze with napalm. Or even a tactical nuke strike.
“But the people that own all those billion-dollar properties and all the valuables that they hold, not to mention the billions in factory equipment, all the infrastructure and so on, hope to recover those assets intact. Therefore, it’s a waiting game. Everyone expects the DEVO’s and virus to burn out and die off.”
Ricky smiled. “So in the meantime, we have what is known as a target rich environment.”
Ricky had been here from the beginning both with the military units trying to contain the former humanity and keep the virus from spreading and then later as one of the founding members of the Voracious Soldiers. That was back in the good old days when the whole adventure thing was just for fun and profit, Andy solemnly contemplated as he listened to Ricky over the comms.
The Humvees approached an overpass, long ago flattened by the military. They veered to the right and took an off-ramp down to the street level. The rigs slowed to maneuver between a burnt-out pair of APC’s that had been blockading the highway during the first days.
As they passed, everyone grew silent. There in the turret, its heavy machine gun long since looted, were the skeletal remains of one of the soldiers. Dead bodies, including members of the military were not removed; the unknowns of the virus still prevented sentimentality.
The helmet remained on the skull and the leather-like skin stretched over the bones, barely recognizable as a human face. The teeth visible in the mouth were forever frozen open in an eternal scream. His arms and hands were locked into the pugilistic stance in front of the chest, typical of burn victims.
An arrow spray painted in red on the side of the APC pointed to the turret and was accompanied by a cryptic message:
“He was the Lucky One. Welcome to the Lower South Side!”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“We have a count of about three dozen vehicles traveling the various routes from the victim’s home in Phoenix up to Carson City, and then into Incline Village where she went missing. What do you think they’d be doing in Tahoe?”
“No idea, Matt.” Calum threw his hands up at the head tech geek back at the MCT lab in Denver. Although Matt was technically in the New Polis location, the in-world MCT HQ where he and Wu could work together even while Wu was physically at Lake Tahoe.
“It could be just a place to get away to, try to get lost in the upcoming Labor Day weekend crowd.”
“They also need to be able to enter the Metaverse. I looked up this Digital Adventures company. Man, they do some wicked cool stuff. It’s not just the VR that is generally amazing everywhere you do full emersion, but it’s all the detail they put into it. Layer upon layer of story lines that branch out from a trillion different factors. Every individual action and how it might affect a billion other things is calculated. It has a narrative designed to go on for years. The Dead Zone sims are some of their most popular, and they get a pretty penny if you want to join the adventure. Anyway, it is a full emersion sim only. Nothing less than a full motion H-Pod and SecondSkin interface is supported. Even intermediate suits are not allowed, so it’s not like they’d be trying to be mobile with a trailer or an RV.
Calum gave thought to what Matt just said.
Intermediate suits were the precursors to SecondSkin, sort of like a wetsuit but the interaction was limited. While you could be in-world completely, you were not fully immersed as your real skin could not “feel.” It was like wearing gloves all the time.
“Where are the nearest H-Pod rental facilities?”
“Let me see,” The tapping of keys filled Calum’s earpiece. “There is one right there in Incline Village. The next closest are in Reno and Carson City.”
“Can you run those down and find out which ones have people jumping in this morning. Also, why would it involve an RV?”
“Well, even if you are using a hood and exo-mitts you can’t just do it sitting down, not in this type of sim. You need to be able to move around. If they are mobile, they’d need room. Since they can’t enter a DA sim that way, you got me.”
Or the room to hide a kidnap victim. Calum considered what he just heard.
“Great, thanks. Matt, can you also get me a breakdown of that vehicle traffic; how many RV’s, the kind you drive and tow.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks,” Calum said, as he closed the Line and looked at Wu.
“Where are Andy and his crew?”
“Just about to enter the business district of the Dead Zone.”
Few people outside of the Metaverse Crimes Team knew the details about one Robert Wu. Agent Wu, formerly Mr. Wu when he held a civilian status although he never really was a civilian either.
Robert Wu, who originally was named Real World Utility Unit was never a human either. Although he looked as comparable to one as any other mid 20’s fit male with an Asian lineage and California accent, that is where the resemblances ended.
Robert Wu was a fully animatronic device. Such devices, common now in most of the first world, were readily identifiable with their waxy all too perfect skin and features. Most rolled on platforms, more economical to build than the more sophisticated human-normed devices.
The advent of SecondSkin, originally developed for skin grafts was technically alive. It wasn’t worn but rather fused with the human body and provided the conduit for the human being inside it; digitizing the person into the Metaverse and its countless worlds and simulations where all the senses were as real as in the physical world.
Agent Wu’s skin was in concept, a SecondSkin in reverse. Like all Digital Sentient Beings his consciousness resided in the Metaverse. But unlike those beings who could not wholly travel into the real world except in holographic form or a bastardized version of themselves in some animatronic contraption with limited human abilities, Robert Wu existed in both, simultaneously through satellite uplink, or other available wireless systems. Even if that link broke, he could operate independently; autonomous in either world, he was a magnitude beyond any known robotic or animatronic device.
Indiscernible from any other human being, Agent Wu had a biologic skin and tongue. He ate real food and drank water that was used as an energy source or to maintain the hydration of his biologic-based parts. Underneath the skin was a skeleton of a high-entropy alloy eight times stronger than titanium and light weight. Free flowing micro-servos provided him a 30 to one power to weight ratio, giving him the strength of two dozen men or more. Robert Wu had all the senses of a human being but enhanced, as well as some other senses, or more accurately sensors that humans did not.
As any of the Agents in the H-pods of the MCT could do, Robert Wu was able to move through the Metaverse at will and undetectable if so desired. But unlike the other agents, he needed no pod, and he could be in multiple places at once in-world while simultaneously physically present at a location in the real world. Something he was doing now; following the two Humvees in the Dead Zone while physically present with Calum at Lake Tahoe.
“Any communication from either Graybeard or Haus?” Calum asked.
“Not since they called earlier. Mr. Crawley seems intent on making them wait. I would assume with his team’s movements some of the suspect’s associates in the sim would know of their arrival.” Wu said.
“Well, when it comes to the strategy of getting to the gold I’m sure Mr. Crawley’s plan is sound. He is buying us time to find Mia. We need to do our part out here and use that time to find this Haus and anyone he is working with. Doing that will hopefully lead us to her. We can deal with this Graybeard later.”
Calum looked at the blue of the lake. “I hope we’re in the right location or this is a big waste of time.”
***
&n
bsp; A light breeze blew around papers and a few plastic bags in the street past the dismounted team standing outside their Humvees. Except for Logan, Andy and Ricky the rest had never been this deep into the zone. The tranquility contradicted their thoughts; reminding each of what might be around every corner and undoubtedly inside any darkened space.
While the creatures would not venture into the sunlight, the Outfits would. For the newbies, it seemed unnatural that such a vast city with the massive buildings towering all around could be so eerily quiet and utterly devoid of people. It was surreal that just behind the walls of each of those skyscrapers or wherever sunlight would not reach existed the lairs of a deadly if not cunning enemy that would sacrifice themselves by the multitudes to get a single bite of them. Forgetting about the deserted streets the rookie team members took note of the more serious posture the three legendary Victor Sierras now exhibited.
“Keep your eyes high. The DEVO’s love to rig things to drop on us or that will block our vehicles, then we spend the whole day on foot hoofing it out. Since we’re 33 miles north of the Line that will take till after nightfall, and you know what comes out then.”
“Yes OOD,” came the reply in unison from the Probies as they pointed their weapons upwards, maintaining a loose perimeter around the rigs. Up higher, the troops in the turrets provided the team with three hundred and sixty-degree coverage from any Outfitters that might show up; the .50’s and Mark-19 Grenade Launchers at the ready.
Andy, Logan, and Ricky stood in front of the rigs pointed down the alley. The tall buildings on both sides casting shadows here and there in the late morning daylight making everyone nervous. Depending on the angle of the sun the DEVO’s would get close enough to windows during the day to drop bricks and even Molotov cocktails. Either one of those things landing on your head, even with a helmet, could ruin your day.
After surveying the alley, all three of the skilled infiltrators had the same thoughts. Every alley was a potential death trap. If you got blocked in, then you had to get out on foot and climb over the blockade, which most of the time was on fire, or soon would be. You either had to wait for it to burn out, which would be unlikely as the creatures would continue to drop flaming weapons from the shadows, or you had to break through a building, where it was dark and the DEVO’s waited.
You’d use up half of the flares and a third of the ammo the average trooper carried just getting through to the street side. Then you’d have to walk, or more likely run to a place where if you were lucky a VTAL would be available to get you out or another team rig could reach you; abandoned vehicles that would start and run were rare down here and those that could were parked in dark garages. The later in the day, the lower your chances.
In the downtown district, movement was extremely cumbersome. Fallen cables crisscrossed the streets, making VTAL landings hazardous. There were over 1800 buildings centered in this area at least 50 stories tall. Over 500 were 100 or more stories. Any of them could hide countless DEVO’s eager to rain hell fire down on a chopper. It was a nonstarter with most VTAL pilots to attempt an approach through those human-constructed canyons down to street level.
Overturned vehicles and other obstacles blockaded most of the streets and not a few undoubtedly contained booby-traps that made it difficult to navigate through, at least in a direct line. The location that Andy needed to get to was right in the thick of it. A 140-story building, one of the tallest in the city known by its address, which became its swanky name: One Heritage Square.
Andy had been there before, early on it was a favorite target because of all the penthouses and luxurious apartments. Back then you could race in and race out as the DEVO’s hadn’t had the time to organize and set up blockades, the same for the Outfits.
Today was different, but Andy saw it two ways. If they cautiously crawled through every alley and open street, it would be late afternoon by the time they even got to the building. The other option was to race through the alleys and streets at as high a speed as they could.
Andy always had a plan and today was no different. He had downloaded the GPS routes reported by the G550. Keith had been lucky or had some other inside knowledge of the roads, maybe from Haus since they were deep in Crewmen territory. Despite their numbers, it took the DEVO’s a lot of nights to rig traps and blockades. It wasn’t likely that in the few nights since Keith and David, and later he and Logan traveled those routes, that new barriers and traps were built or completed. There was no way to be sure, but Andy would take the calculated risk.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mia studied the young man she nearly killed earlier. Sitting at the booth table across from the couch, he fiddled with a laptop while occasionally craning his neck to look out the windows. He sat on the side facing his captive for obvious reasons.
It was not hard for Mia to discern that he lacked the confidence of the older one, perhaps because of the beating she gave him or just his age. She thought that she might be able to talk some sense into him. Of course, since their earlier incident he wasn’t likely to warm up to her let alone get close.
Mia couldn’t help but second guess herself; wondering if she should have waited until Bowen was alone before either trying to use psychology or force. If the one known as Haus had not shown up when he did she would be long gone and Bowen possibly dead. That was not an outcome she desired but the military veteran was all too aware that she needed to be prepared to give no quarter. She hoped she got another chance.
“You know you will never get away with this.”
“No one asked your opinion. Haus is the man; he gets stuff done and makes things happen.”
“Can’t you see that’s all fantasy? I bet in-world you’re some big strapping tough guy who no one messes with, just like Haus. But that’s a game, this is real life; your real life.”
Bowen glared at Mia; he was sick of her. He hoped Haus would get the gold soon and they’d hightail it back to the zone. “Yeah and I bet in-world you are pretty.”
Mia suppressed a chuckle. It was like arguing with a fifth grader, but she hoped to place doubt in the young man’s mind about what he was doing.
“Fair enough. But consider where this all leaves you when it’s over. Do you think the cops are going to let Digital Adventures let you get paid for that trophy?”
“Haus has that worked out.”
“You better hope he does, you’re going to need bribe money. A pretty little thing like you will be some other inmates prison-bitch when you’re locked up.” Mia’s frustration at Bowen’s inability to discern reality from fantasy was making her mean.
“Ain’t no one gonna catch us. We’re the unseen, we exist in the zone, out here is just another dimension where we happen to have to take care of business right now.”
“You think you are just going to break into someone’s home, threaten their life and kidnap them and then get away with it? Do you believe they will stop looking for you? Listen to me, you will get caught, and so will Haus. I hope you at least have some proof that he was in on it. Otherwise, he’ll say that was all on you and testify against you. What you need to decide is whether you want that to be only for kidnapping and extortion or for something worse, far worse.”
Les heard the words, but they didn’t register. He only thought of one thing, and that was getting back home, in-world and to the zone.
“Sounds like someone’s a scared little bitch now.”
Bowen, still sneering at Mia stood up from his seat, turned and walked to the front of the RV. Pushing the door open he stepped to the ground and then walked to a cement picnic table where he sat down, he was done talking with his hostage. The smell of the pines combined with someone cooking bacon for breakfast wafted past the tissues still in his nostrils; the tops of the trees rustled with the light breeze. Others might find those smells relaxing or invigorating. Bowen felt neither; the real world offered nothing he desired.
Pulling his phone from his pant pocket he keyed it with his thumb and looked at the
screen. There weren’t any calls from Haus. No text messages either. Bowen was getting nervous. It was two hours behind in the Metaverse, early morning. He wondered if he should call or text his boss.
The crunch of gravel under a tire took his eyes from the device. A lump appeared instantly in his throat. Rolling to a stop behind the RV was a marked police car of some type. Though sitting, Bowen felt his knees go limp while at the same time his stomach cramped. An overwhelming sense of fear overcame him, making him motionless. That was probably a good thing, or he would have taken off running, some place, any place if it eventually led him back to his H-Pod and home.
Bowen fixated on the “Sheriff’s Office” written over the top of the multi-point gold star affixed within a round emblem. The bottom part read “Washoe County.”
“Good morning. Have a rough night?”
Absolute panic overtook him; the deputy’s words failed to register in his mind. It took all his willpower not to bolt. Finally, Bowen managed to get out a single syllable; his voice cracked with the effort.
“Sir?”
Grinning, the deputy took his right index finger and circled his own nose and eyes.
Bowen now realized he was talking about the two black eyes, swollen nose and not the least the rolled-up toilet paper pushed into each nostril.
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