Warlord: A Post Apocalyptic Alien Invasion Thriller (The Crumbling Book 1)
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The truth was, Cameron had no idea how she was going to solve the situation. The one shared thing among every survivor of the Crumbling was their hatred of the aliens who destroyed the planet. People would not be happy until Drac had served the smallest portion of their justice. He would pay with his life.
“We have to get him out of here,” Stafford spoke in his quiet assured way as if it was the most obvious answer.
“Why don’t we just kill him right now?” Cameron asked knowing it would be so easy to just pull the trigger and erase the problem. In the back of her mind, she knew it wasn’t the answer, she knew they needed Drac. They needed the knowledge he possessed. There was so much he could share with them. They would need all the help they could get if humanity was going to survive the apocalypse.
“We need him,” Stafford said echoing Cameron’s thoughts. “We need to know more about the replicators and there may be other alien technology that was left behind.”
Cameron sighed and nodded in agreement. She also wanted to know what Drac’s plan for revenge was. Did he have a way to leave the planet and follow his people?
“You’re right.”
“So where are you going to take him?” Brody asked the obvious question. “The Freeriders are desperate, they killed three of our people last night.”
Cameron was shocked at the news. She hadn’t talked to Brody in the last couple of days. She had instructed him to leave her alone while she worked with the replicator.
“There’s nowhere outside of the co-op that’s safe enough to stay for any period of time,” Brody continued.
“I have an idea,” Drac said in a quiet voice. He was sitting nonchalantly in one of the overstuffed recliners rocking back and forth. There wasn’t a single trace of alarm at their situation.
Cameron just stared at him with dead eyes. She was the master of play-acting and could see through his ruse. She shook her head and decided to ignore his comment.
“Go ahead,” Stafford said before Cameron could speak. “What’s this plan of yours?”
“It’s simple, there are numerous Neandraton outposts in this area. You could keep me contained in one of them until you figure out how to pacify your people.” Drac said the last word with disdain. Cameron could tell he hated to refer to humans as people.
“The last one we went to blew up.” Cameron shook her head at the idea. She wouldn’t willingly go anywhere near another one of the domed structures.
“I think it’s a good idea.” Stafford nodded his head ignoring what Cameron said. “I seriously doubt the Freeriders will go anywhere near one of them ever again.”
Cameron just stared at Stafford as if he were speaking in tongues.
“We’re not going to do what he wants,” Cameron had to stop herself from yelling. “He probably has a plan of escaping once he gets there. We’ll be on his turf.”
Stafford shook his head disagreeing with Cameron.
“It’s the only place where no human would ever go. There is too much fear and superstition. I will personally guarantee that he will not escape.” Stafford nodded once more, firmly, as if his affirmation settled the matter.
Drac smiled a smug smile. He obviously enjoyed getting his way over Cameron’s objections.
“Fine,” Cameron said, petulantly. “We’ll take him there then work out our plan to infiltrate the Freerider’s base.”
“Perfect,” Stafford said, standing and grabbing Drac by the arms.
“Drac can help us with that as well.” It was Cameron’s turn to smile smugly.
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“Brody, I need you to run interference for the next 12 hours,” Cameron said, as she grabbed some food and extra water and stuffed it into her backpack. She checked to make sure the replicator was safe as well. It was gleaming dimly in the bottom of the bag.
“Interference?” Brody asked with a sigh. “What lie am I telling?”
“Tell people we are interrogating the alien and then we will hold a public trial when we have the information we need. Tell them they will get to decide what happens to him.” Cameron knew it was the only thing that would give them time to figure out what to do next.
“And when they ask where you’re interrogating him?”
“Tell them it’s none of their business. Or make something up, you’re better at this than I am.” Cameron trusted Brody to come up with the right story. He’d kept the people from rioting for months while they starved.
Brody sighed loudly and nodded. He left with a frustrated glance at Drac. Not having every sliver of information ate at him like it was cancer.
“Okay, let’s move.” Stafford hauled Drac over his shoulder without permission.
“Put me down you overly large Sape.” Drac protested his voice muffled slightly by Stafford’s shirt.
“Keep quiet, or I’ll knock you out.” Stafford dropped Drac just enough to scare him a little and he quieted immediately.
Cameron led the way out of the command container. She took an immediate right turn and moved as silently as she could. The sun was starting to set which made it easier to move in the shadows of the tall metal crates.
“We’re going to have to swim out.” Cameron motioned toward the river. The fence in that section of the co-op was the least guarded since it was nearly impossible to cross the river without a boat.
Stafford nodded his assent and they made their way slowly to the back of the shipping yard. Cameron pulled out a pair of tin snips and cut a hole large enough for Stafford and herself to fit through.
She pulled her body easily through the hole, Drac followed close behind. It was difficult for him to crawl with his arms cuffed so Cameron grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him roughly through.
Stafford squeezed his bulky shoulders past the metal fence and hopped lithely to his feet. Without preamble, he once again grabbed Drac by the midsection and flipped him over his shoulder.
Cameron could hear the wind gush out of Drac’s lungs as he was caught off guard by the motion. She heard him muttering under his breath.
They made their way across the three feet of bare land between the fence and the river and waded in. Cameron’s plan was to stay near the bank, but let the river carry them downstream past the co-op’s border.
The only issue with that plan was that it would take them closer to the Freerider’s camp. It was a risk, but there was no other way of escape without being seen by the guards at the rear gate. The men and women that watched the rear gates were excellent marksmen and would presumably mistake them as enemies and shoot them on sight.
Cameron had seen them take out multiple Freeriders from over 100 yards.
Before entering the water, Cameron grabbed the key to the handcuffs out of her pocket. She walked over to Drac.
“Hands out,” She motioned to Drac’s cuffs. “You can’t swim with those on.”
Drac thrust his hands out rapidly. Cameron could tell he was absolutely overjoyed at having them removed. Cameron didn’t like it, but she knew he would likely drown if she didn’t.
Drac sighed audibly in relief as the metal slid away from his skin. There were bright red blisters on each wrist and Cameron enjoyed seeing them there. Any amount of pain was not enough.
“This water is extremely toxic,” Drac said, rubbing his wrists lightly and wincing at the pain.
“Then I suggest you keep your mouth shut,” Cameron spoke just above a whisper. It was a concern anytime they went into the water. She would have to be careful to keep it out of her mouth and nose if possible.
Cameron waded into the river until she was able to crouch down and float with ease. The current was strong, but she thought she would be able to steer clear of the riptides that would easily pull them under.
Stafford had to wade a little further into deeper water because of his increased size. Drac stayed near Cameron and all three of them began floating downstream.
Cameron kept her eyes trained on the fence line to make sure no one was approaching and didn’t see any
one. After a few seconds, they were past the edge of the co-op’s southern border. Cameron wanted to wait until they were at least 300 yards away before making their way back to shore.
Ahead there was a slight bend in the river and Cameron realized it would help block them from view. Cameron pointed to it and Stafford nodded in agreement.
Cameron didn’t realize that the bend in the river also meant that the river narrowed substantially. Where they entered it was over 60 feet wide. At the bend, it was closer to 30. This meant that the current picked up substantially. She also could no longer feel the riverbed beneath her feet.
She looked at Stafford and saw the nervous expression on his face. Drac too looked on with worried eyes as the current continued to pick up speed.
“Sure,” was all he had to say and they all desperately started swimming toward the bank. Cameron had grown up swimming in the ocean and knew that to beat a strong current you swim diagonally instead of away from it.
She positioned herself downstream but angled toward the bank and started swimming as hard as she could. She kicked and struggled but her backpack weighed her down as well as her clothes and shoes. She hadn’t brought any extra clothing, so she couldn’t take anything off.
She looked behind her and saw that Stafford was doing even worse than she was. He had been sucked deeper into the middle of the river. His face was panicked and his arms slowed as he tired.
“We’ll just have to get past this bend. The river will widen again and we can make our way to the shore.” Cameron reached out with her hand and grabbed Stafford’s outstretched arm. She didn’t want him floating away from her. She also reached out for Drac’s small hand.
They floated for another five minutes, gaining more and more momentum. The empty countryside was flying by too fast to take in many details.
After another ten minutes, the river began to widen again and Cameron felt the current start to weaken.
“Let’s try again.” There was another bend coming up and Cameron didn’t want to repeat the process they had just gone through.
She swam as hard as she could and made great progress. She heard Stafford and Drac splashing and breathing loudly beside her as they both made progress toward the shore.
They were all so focused on reaching the shore that they didn’t see the small column of smoke billowing up from behind a small hill to their right.
Cameron and Stafford made it to shore and flung themselves on the ground completely spent. Drac landed on his side and didn’t move at all. They closed their eyes breathing deeply, trying to get as much air into their lungs as possible.
“Well, what do we have here?” A man with a deep southern drawl said, chuckling. He cocked his rifle and pointed it directly at Cameron’s heart.
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“A couple of washed-up fishes,” the man continued in his southern accent. He looked over his shoulder at the other two men who were starting to rise from their seated positions around a small fire.
The first man smiled, and Cameron saw that two of his teeth were missing. The rest were yellowed and rotting out of his face.
All three of them were wearing jean jackets with the arms ripped off. On his front lapel was sewn in an upside down American flag. They were Freeriders.
Cameron’s stomach sank as the reality of their situation set in. Her mind immediately went to her undrawn, waterlogged pistols, then to the replicator buried deep in her bag. She nearly cried at the thought of losing it. She would give anything else, short of her own life to keep it out of their hands.
It didn’t really matter though. She, Stafford, and Drac were dead. She was surprised that the three Freeriders hadn’t already opened fire on them.
The two other men joined the first and they all pulled out weapons. The worst part about the Freeriders was that they all had weapons and plenty of ammunition. Cameron wasn’t sure how they had found so many, but they never seemed to run out.
“Y'all out for an evenin’ swim?” The toothless man asked. He whistled loudly when we said the ‘s’ in swim. His laugh at his own joke was unhinged, a grating cackle that didn’t fit the situation. Cameron took in his face and body and could tell he was starving.
“What’s this one wearing?” The man took in Drac’s strange clothing and made a face. He turned to Cameron, all of his attention focused on her. All thought of Drac’s weird clothes gone from his mind.
When Cameron met his sunken eyes, they spoke of a second hunger. One that chilled Cameron to her bones. She wanted nothing more than to put a bullet directly between the lust-filled orbs.
“What do you wanna do Hank?” The man on the left asked. He fidgeted with his rifle. His nervousness with the weapon was apparent.
“Y’all got any food?” The man named Hank asked, licking his cracked lips. His tongue was covered in a thick coat of white mucus. Cameron almost retched at the sight.
“Grab their packs.” The third man said to the nervous one. He nodded and slung the rifle over his shoulder. He seemed to be the youngest of the group. Cameron guessed he was around 16.
He walked slowly over to Cameron, his eyes darting around. He was also painfully skinny under his dark blue jacket. It wasn’t as dirty as Hank’s or the other man’s. Was it possible he had only just joined the Freeriders?
“Give it over.” He said reaching out a shaking hand. His dark brown eyes carried none of the malice or ill intent that Hank’s held.
Stafford quickly handed his bag to the boy first. Cameron caught his eye and he nodded to her. She instinctively knew his plan. They needed to act as soon as the men’s attention was focused on Stafford’s pack.
“Bring it over here, Ben.” Hank motioned with his rifle. He took his eyes off Cameron for the first time. Cameron slowly moved her right hand toward her pistols.
“Uh uh uh,” The third man spoke walking toward Cameron. He was much taller than the other two men. Taller even than Stafford. He was much skinnier though. His lanky form moved awkwardly toward Cameron.
“Give them here,” He said, pointing his pump-action shotgun directly into Cameron’s belly.
“Don’t spoil the prize, Cletus,” Hank said, his attention drawn away from Stafford’s backpack.
Cletus glared at Cameron as she held her hands up away from her pistols. Cletus bent down and forcefully removed both of her pistols. His hot breath wafted over her face as he knelt down, and nearly made Cameron vomit. It smelled like something had died in his stomach.
He tucked both pistols into the leather satchel he had on his side. The bag was so out of place on the rough man. It looked like a briefcase a businessman would take on his morning commute into the office. The leather was supple and shined with obvious care.
As he turned away, Cameron shifted her backpack off her left shoulder and to her side away from the three men. The movement was quick and decisive and none of them noticed.
With her left hand, Cameron started slowly unzipping her pack. She couldn’t care less about the food or water. She wanted the replicator. She had no clue if she would be able to use it as a weapon, but she had to try.
“Jackpot!” Ben yelled in relief and adulation. They had found the energy bars and water Stafford had in his pack.
“Hands off, runt,” Hank spit, pulling the bag away. He grabbed a bottle of water and an energy bar for himself and zipped the pack up. “This one’s mine. Finders Keepers”
Both men looked at Hank in rage at his words. Ben grabbed the rifle slung over his shoulder, but Hank had his gun ready and pointed it at Ben before he could get it fully in hand.
“No, sir,” Hank whispered. Ben’s face scrunched up and it looked like it had any moisture in his body he would have started balling.
“I’m so thirsty. Please Hank, please,” Ben fell to his knees the rocks of the bank digging into his flesh.
Hank ripped open the bottle of water and drank it down in one long chug. He belched loudly then started in on the energy bar. He smacked loudly but made sure not a single mor
sel of the food missed his mouth.
Ben and Cletus stared at Hank as he chewed loudly. He continued to point his rifle at them with one hand. Cameron worked the zipper on her pack open one inch at a time. As Hank finished his chewing, she finally had enough space to fit her hand in the bag.
As she slid her hand into the water-soaked pack, she felt the cool water and the small amount of dried food she’d grabbed before leaving the co-op. Her hand then caressed the starkly chill metal of the replicator and she felt around until she felt the five, round pearls where her palm went.
“Why don’t y’all see what’s in her pack, instead of starin’ at me like a bunch of starvin’ cattle.” Hank motioned toward Cameron with his gun, and the two men turned in unison.
Cameron knew she had to act, or risk losing the replicator forever.
Cameron felt the replicator attached to her hand. She saw the prompt in the left corner of her vision and focused on it. She opened her mind and allowed herself to see with the replicator’s vision.
Her mind reeled at the still alien sensation. Everything happened in quick succession.
Cameron pulled her hand out of the bag and aimed the replicator at Hank. She could see his shocked expression through the machine’s vision. She zoomed in quickly and saw his form change before her as the replicator scanned him. Clothes to the skin, to fat, then muscle, and finally bone.
She thanked herself for the time she’d spent using the replicator the last three days. After the scan was complete, she selected a new option on the screen that she’d never seen before. It was as if the replicator knew her thoughts, knew her intended purpose.
In her vision, she saw the option ‘decimate’. She focused on it with all of her will, the replicator let out a flash of purple light.
Cameron watched as first the water bottle then, the energy bar wrapper fell from Hank’s hand. The crumbling started with his left ear, his body simply started to fall apart. Crumbling to dust. The look on his face as he disintegrated sent a chill through Cameron.