by M. R. Forbes
“Do you know how many soldiers are stationed there?”
“No, Sheriff. But I would venture that if the virus was as effective as the Liberators are hoping, then they will be in the process of retreating from the area.”
“Because the only safe place to be when Armageddon comes is behind Edenrise’s energy shield.”
“Pozz.”
“Start plotting a path toward the fort.”
Isabelle turned her head to look at him. “Sheriff? Are you sure?”
It was interesting how Tinker had programmed her to question decisions. It made her seem more human. “That base is the closest thing to civilization we’re going to find out here. They have food, weapons, armor, computer equipment, comms equipment, and who knows what else. They might even have communications that can reach Sanisco. I’d love to tell Nat I’m still alive.”
“There are only four of us, Sheriff.”
“I think you count for more than one human. But we aren’t going to rush headlong into the base by crashing this thing through their gates, especially if they think I’m dead. What do you have in your memory banks that we can use?”
“I will have to stop the vehicle to review.”
“Do it.”
The RV came to a sudden stop. Isabelle was motionless. She looked as though she was frozen in place.
“Sheriff?” Pyro said, coming to the front.
“It’s okay. How good are you and Gus with rifles?”
“We’re mongrels, Sheriff. We know how to shoot. Why?”
“Are you familiar with Fort McGuire?”
“No. What is it?”
“The Liberator’s closest forward operating base. I want to get into it.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Maybe. But I still want to get into it. Izzy was there once. She’s accessing her memory storage so we can find a way inside.”
“I am finished, Sheriff,” Isabelle said. “I was flown out of the base by helicopter and dropped at Crosston. I reviewed my memory of the base from the air. There is only one main entry gate, but the fence is made of steel wire, with barbed wire on top, and there is a wooded area on the eastern side where we should be able to enter undetected. The Liberators worry about trife trying to get in, not people. The bigger concern is the drones. We will have to approach from some distance to ensure we are not seen. If the Liberators are in the process of dismantling the base, we may be able to catch them not paying attention to their feeds.”
“Can you plot a path around to the eastern side of the base?”
“Pozz. But there is no guarantee we won’t come across any patrols before then.”
“There’s no guarantee of anything out here. The weapons in the storage beneath the vehicle, do you know if there’s a sniper rifle down there?”
“Pozz. There is an M2030 in inventory, but we have only one six-round magazine for that gun.”
Hayden nodded. “Well, if we run into any trouble, let’s hope there aren’t more than six targets.”
Chapter 10
Hayden stayed belly-down on top of the Tourmaster. He had the M2030 cradled against him, his head raised and tilted so he could see through the weapon’s powerful scope.
The rifle was an older weapon, but it was still impressive and in excellent condition considering its age. Painted dark green, it had a padded stock and a long barrel that ended in a thick sound suppressor and muzzle brake in addition to the sight, and an adjustable rest mount that was currently extended. He had fired a similar weapon before, which reduced some of his concern about adjusting to the recoil, but he was still hoping he wouldn’t have to use it.
The RV was moving at a decent pace, having cut east from beyond Trenton’s outskirts and into a much more rural area. The road here was nearly vacant of the old wrecks he had become so accustomed to, and the biggest obstacle for them now was the overgrown trees and shrubs whose branches were choking off the cement. They had to slow every half a kilometer or so, and Hayden would stand on the top of the vehicle and use his replacement arm to bend the branches back or snap them off. A few times they had been forced to come to a complete stop, and Isabelle had lent her strength to break off the limbs.
The good news was, it meant the road was rarely used, by the Liberators or anyone else. It gave them a nearly free pass from Trenton out toward the fort and kept their speed somewhat steady.
Hayden leaned in and peered through the rifle’s sight. He could see a town approaching up ahead, as deserted and overgrown as anywhere else he had been. He shifted the weapon on its mount, sweeping it from side to side, pausing when he caught a road sign in the scope. He reached up and adjusted the focus, though the motion of the RV made it hard to keep things completely clear.
WELCOME TO NEW EGYPT
He looked up from the scope. Old houses lined the road up ahead. Dirt driveways led out to their narrow street. A few old cars still sat abandoned in the driveways, along with long forgotten toys. A child’s tricycle. A swing set. A plastic wagon.
As they reached the houses, he saw most of them were boarded up, most likely sealed to keep the trife out. Most of the boards that had once covered the doors were removed, laying across porches or in the street, ripped off by scavengers searching for food and supplies. It still gave him chills sometimes, to look at the visual history of how human civilization on Earth had come to its abrupt end. Not an end, though. Not completely. There was still fight left in the survivors. There was still hope.
But not if Tinker had his way.
He put his face back to the rifle’s sight. The RV continued toward New Egypt, reaching the sign he had spotted a minute later. Looking deeper into the town, he could see a few larger storefronts and other commercial buildings along their road, and the hint of more densely packed housing organized around the small town’s center.
He lifted his head again, this time turning his attention to the sky. There was a mix of sun and clouds, which made it more challenging to try to spot any potential drones that might be passing over or circling near the Liberator’s base. It was one thing to try to catch a black spot against a sea of blue. It was another to identify it when it was bouncing in and out of cloud cover. He craned his neck as far as he could without shifting his body, but he didn’t see anything. Gus and Pyro were also watching from below, one on each side of the Tourmaster, tracking the air.
He settled back on the rifle’s scope, scanning ahead one more time. He paused, catching sight of the front of a vehicle sticking out from behind one of the old buildings. He lowered the rife and knocked on the roof three times. Isabelle brought the Tourmaster to a stop.
He moved to the edge of the vehicle’s roof, hanging the rifle from his shoulder, he slid down over the doorway and dropped to the ground.
“What did you see, Sheriff?” Isabelle asked. Pyro and Gus were also moving to the front of the RV.
“There’s a car up there. It’s got some steel plating across the front and hood. Armor. I don’t know if it’s abandoned or if it’s a Liberator patrol. Izzy, wait here with the camper.” He pulled the rifle from his shoulder. “Gus, can you grab me a pistol? Pyro, take my position up top.”
“Roger, Sheriff,” Pyro and Gus said.
Gus headed back to get himself a new weapon, while Pyro took the offered sniper rifle. She put it on her back and Hayden dropped to the road so she could grab the lip of the door frame with her mechanical arm and pull herself onto the roof.
Gus returned a moment later, carrying a piece of black steel, simple and deadly. He handed it to Hayden. “Magazine is full, Sheriff. Twenty rounds.”
“Thanks, Gus. Pyro’s watching my ass, so you need to keep a lookout for drones.”
“Okay.”
Hayden kept the sidearm in his Centurion hand. He moved away from the RV, positioning himself behind an old building on the right. He stayed off the road, making his way into the town through overgrown backyards and parking lots.
He couldn’t see the modified car from his appr
oach, but he could see the building it was parked beside. He moved cautiously toward it, careful to stay aware of his surroundings.
A sharp crack echoed through the air. Hayden suddenly heard motion ahead, and the rumble of a car engine a few seconds later.
What the hell?
He heard a second crack. It sounded like it was coming from the RV. Then he heard another engine. And then a third.
He took off, sprinting toward the edge of a building, intent on getting back to the street between the cars and the RV. He heard sudden movement to his left, and he turned his head in time to see a trife rising from the tall grass, lunging at him from its hiding place.
It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t a trife. It was a dog. A wild dog. He barely got his arm up to block it as it snarled and snapped at him, its mouth catching on the metal. He turned and shook his arm, trying to dislodge it. Its bite was strong and it held on, even as he lifted it into the air and turned it around. It growled at him, legs moving, trying to find a grip on him. The animal couldn’t hurt him through the bodysuit, but it was distracting him from the scene unfolding ahead.
He heard another sharp crack, followed by the sound of smaller arms firing. He glanced to his right in time to see one of the cars racing down the street toward the RV. It had a large piece of metal mounted to its front, with a sharp leading edge positioned in the center. It could probably ram right into the Tourmaster without taking a hint of damage.
“Get off,” Hayden hissed, using his other hand to punch the animal in the side. It yelped and let go, falling onto the grass and retreating.
He ran toward the street, trying to intercept the car. He held up the pistol, doing his best to aim and squeezing the trigger over and over.
The car didn’t have any windows, but it did have a metal cage welded to the frame. He could see his bullets spark off the cage and ricochet, and he saw the driver turn his head in his direction. A second man appeared on the other side of the car, coming to sit on the passenger side window frame. He rested his rifle on the car’s rooftop, aiming at Hayden.
Another crack. The man’s head vanished when the fourth of the sniper rifle’s six rounds hit it. Hayden kept running toward the car, continuing to shoot. He finally got lucky and saw the driver’s head snap to the side and then roll forward. The car veered off the road, accelerating into the wall of a building before coming to a dead stop.
The small arms fire didn’t stop. Bullets whipped past Hayden, coming way too close. He dove to the ground, hiding in the overgrown grass and turning his head to the right. The other two cars were following on the back of the first, charging toward the RV and the shooter resting on its rooftop.
Why had Pyro decided to open fire and give their presence away?
He didn’t have time to ask her right now. One of the cars raced down a side street, heading south and coming to a stop less than fifty meters away. Two men climbed out of the back, wearing dark green fatigues and carrying rifles. The first car vanished further up the road, close to where he had left the RV. He had to assume Isabelle wouldn’t leave it in the middle of the street to get rammed.
He didn’t know what was happening further back, but he heard the squeal of tires and then what sounded like something heavy going into the windshield and shattering it. A round of gunfire followed, quickly cut off without another shot from the heavy rifle.
“Did you see him?” one of them asked.
“I saw that truck on the road up ahead,” the other one said. “Sergeant’s calling it in.”
“I thought this area was clear.”
“Fucking travelers. Wrong place. Wrong time. They’re going to fucking pay for this shit.”
“I told you we shouldn’t have come out here. Two days to Edenrise, Brock.”
“What else were we going to do with the leftovers?”
“Hong said to let them go.”
“They were going to die, anyway. Stop being such a pansy.”
Hayden pulled his legs up under him, staying low in the grass. They hadn’t seen him there yet. But they would any second. He brought his pistol up ahead of him. He didn’t have a clear view of them, either.
Something rustled in the grass nearby. The soldiers turned and started shooting. Hayden took advantage of the unexpected distraction, rushing them through the grass. He shot the first in the chest, shifting his aim and pulling the trigger on the second.
Nothing happened. The gun was empty. The soldier swung back toward him with an expression of fearful surprise.
Hayden hit him in the face with his replacement hand, the force of the blow breaking the man’s jaw and neck. He crumpled to the ground.
The driver of the car saw him. The vehicle’s engine roared, and the tires squealed as it began to move, turning in his direction. It jumped off the road and onto the grass, maneuvering to get him in line with the anti-trife spikes on the front of it.
Hayden didn’t try to run. There was nowhere to go. He faced the vehicle, ready to dive to either side. It continued to accelerate, and he could see the driver’s face behind the wheel, set and focused on running him down.
Another crack rippled through the air, closer than the first set. A large hole appeared in the windshield, and a smaller hole appeared in the driver’s head. He slumped forward, but the car didn’t slow.
Hayden threw himself to the right, able to feel the breeze from the car as it rolled past him. It hit a rock hidden beneath the grass, the left corner thrown up and over, causing it to flip and hit the ground on its roof, sliding to a loud stop.
“Too close,” Hayden said, rolling over and looking at the wreck.
He heard footsteps coming fast. He looked over and saw Isabelle running toward him, the M2030 in her hands.
“Sheriff,” she said, smiling when she saw him alive. So damn real. She stopped beside him, looking over at the flipped car.
“He’s dead,” Hayden said. “Where’s Pyro.”
“Driving the Tourmaster. Her aim was lacking.”
“What the hell was she shooting at?”
He remembered what the soldier said.
They were going to die, anyway.
“I don’t know. The soldiers emerged from the building. They looked happy.”
“That’s it? They looked happy?”
Isabelle shrugged. “I don’t know, Sheriff.”
Hayden stood up. He caught movement from the road, the RV appearing from around a building. It came to a stop when Pyro saw them.
“I heard one of them say they called in on us. Drones are incoming.”
Isabelle looked up. She brought the rifle to her shoulder, looking through the scope. Hayden tracked the direction, making out a small dot in the sky, at least a kilometer away. The sound suppressor reduced the noise of the rifle, but it still produced a sharp crack as it fired, their last round hitting the drone a few seconds later. The black dot began trailing smoke and sinking until it vanished.
It was an impressive shot. One that only a machine could make. But he doubted they would only send one drone, and the rifle was out of bullets.
They needed to get out of there. But where could they go? Now that the Liberators knew someone was nearby shooting at their soldiers, he doubted they would let them out of the area without a fight, and there was no way they could outrun a drone… or the Iron General’s helicopter.
They were going to die, anyway.
Hayden started walking back to the RV. He didn’t know why Pyro had taken the shot, and he would find out. It didn’t matter right now. If they couldn’t run, there was only one other option.
They had to stand their ground, and they only had a few minutes to get ready.
Chapter 11
Hayden pulled open the compartment at the bottom of the RV. Where it might have held luggage and other supplies during its originally-purposed life, the storage area was now home to an armory that made the drawer full of handguns inside look pathetic.
There were at least two dozen aluminum cases o
rganized in the compartment, all of them containing a rare and valuable firearm of some kind; ordnance that was hard if not impossible to come by on the forgotten Earth. Isabelle had said a lot of the guns and ammo came from Tinker, part of multiple trades for the women the Crosstons helped collect for the would-be messiah. Hayden hadn’t known it at the time Loki was still alive, but he was not only willing to give people to Tinker, he was eager to do it for the right kind of trade.
He was glad the bastard was dead.
“Sheriff,” Pyro said, exiting the RV when she saw him approach.
Hayden spared her a glance as he pulled out the first of the cases, lowering it to the ground and flipping it open. A plasma rifle rested inside, along with two recharge cells. He lifted it out of the case and flipped it on, loading it with one of the cells.
“Sheriff,” she repeated.
“Pyro, the Liberators are coming. What rifle did you learn to shoot with?”
Isabelle said her aim was lacking. It was probably because the sniper rifle was more powerful than what she was accustomed. Even with the suppressors, it still packed a kick.
“It was a bolt-action hunting rifle,” she replied. “And a nine-millimeter handgun.”
He noticed she already had a sidearm tucked into her pants. He handed her the plasma rifle, giving her a quick overview of the controls. “On switch. Mode selector.” He turned it to burst. “Keep it where it is.” He tapped the display on top. “Targeting computer. Line up and shoot. There’s no recoil.”
She took the weapon. “Got it. Sheriff, I’m sorry. I saw them in the scope. One of them had his zipper-”
They were going to die, anyway.
“We’ll talk about it later, okay? Do you know what Gus is most familiar with?”
“M20, mainly,” she replied. “I don’t know if Loki bothered with it; they’re pretty common.”
Hayden pulled out another case and opened it. Isabelle joined him, moving the crates aside like she knew what she was looking for.