The Lucid Dreamer (Dystopian Child Prodigy SciFi) (The Unmaker Series Book 1)

by Casey Herzog

  “I think they already know who and what I am, Callum. Don’t worry about keeping it secret. If there’s nothing to hide, there’s nothing to torture out of us, is there?”

  Callum nodded. The truck rolled over a particularly bad section of ground and the compartment shook and heaved. Dante closed his eyes.

  “I want this to end. Why has every one of our plans gone to shit since this all began? We’ve lost so much, sir. I just want it to end…”

  Callum grabbed Dante and pulled him closer menacingly.

  “Don’t say those things, and stop swearing. There are too many reasons to keep fighting, lad. Please, think of what you can do, and don’t think of throwing that away for a single minute.”

  The vehicle began to slow down and seemed to turn into somewhere less bumpy. Dante pressed his ear against the metal wall and listened. There were more voices, and the rain was still pouring down onto the earth like an endless waterfall of poisoned water.

  “Who and what are these people?” Callum asked.

  The truck stopped and they both heard the sound of a metal gate being pulled aside. Suddenly, the truck’s hatch opened. It was still raining outside, but when they stepped out they were relieved to be standing under a roof. The two travelers were led forward by a pair of strange armored men, and Dante looked around at the place to commit it to memory as best he could. It was a badly-illuminated outpost of some kind; the rare flashes of lightning cast some light on the building to reveal its structure briefly every few minutes. It was a three-storied building that had the look of a place that you went into but didn’t come back out of. There were more of the soldiers keeping watch over the surroundings, while others stared coldly at the new arrivals.

  “I wish I knew, sir.”

  It’s the helmets, Dante felt. They must be normal human beings, but that uniform makes them so scary. He made a silent wish, hoping that whoever they were going to talk to would have mercy on them after all they’d gone through. Someone who can listen, not just talk, the boy hoped.

  The front door was made of steel, and a particularly tall figure stood in front of it.

  “We’re coming through to speak with him,” one of the guards escorting both Callum and Dante said to the one at the door.

  “Be quick about it; there has been contact at the Silver Pass bridge in the last hour. Someone triggered an alarm there and eliminated our checkpoint. We need a team to neutralize the threat.” Surprisingly, the voice was feminine. The guard was taller than any man at the outpost, and while Dante didn’t like underestimating anybody because of their gender, he felt amazed at the woman’s height.

  She opened the door for them, and they stepped through into the bright corridor inside. The place’s interiors were a complete opposite to its outer face. The brutal, utilitarian design was dropped completely for a fresh, modern look that spoke less of an outpost/torture center and more of a comfortable military barracks. They even heard hearty laughter coming from a corridor that branched away from the main one.

  This place wasn’t what it seemed at first, Dante thought, although I can’t underestimate them either. They were certainly well-trained and well-equipped, a patrol force that ensured that no intruders entered past the borders without announcing themselves.

  “So we intruded on this place and got shot at and beaten,” Dante said bitterly. “When you say it like that, it almost sounds justified.”

  Callum laughed, despite everything. The healer smiled at the sound. It had been a while since Dante had seen his teacher have fun of any kind. Despite the beating, the soldier still walked tall with his eyes looking down on most of the soldiers.

  “What’s so funny?” a powerful-looking man asked, his uniform the same synthetic armor all of the others wore. He shrugged and addressed them both. “Welcome to this unwelcome place. Be aware, most intruders would already be dead or behind bars by this point. We are extending a courtesy to you, so don’t do anything stupid.” He paused and directed both of them forward towards a corridor that led up to a solitary door. Another guard stood in front of it, his rifle shining in his grip and a pistol hanging inside a belt holster.

  “We won’t,” Dante began, but the man lifted a finger.

  “This is me being nice, by the way. Nevertheless,” he added, tapping Callum on the chest and causing the soldier to tense and tighten his mouth, “If Ted dies from the wounds you caused him, I’m going to fucking break you into little pieces.”

  The door was pulled open before anything else could be said, and a grinning, helmetless man in armor stepped out with a look of suspicion. He had black hair combed and greased back, a pair of mismatched blue and green eyes and a long nose above his grin. He looked slightly unstable to the new arrivals, but maybe it was because of the uneasy smile he carried.

  “Don’t frighten the guests, at least not yet!” he exclaimed loudly. “Come in, boys, don’t be shy.” The guard that had escorted them was left outside, his visor glowing slightly as he glared at them until the door slammed shut. “New arrivals,” the officer continued as he went to the back of the room. It was a very utilitarian office of sorts, the only decorations in the form of medals and certificates that hung from the walls. This man was in the military once, Dante realized. He was no older than forty, so he must have been as young as Callum was when the war began. “Always good to see new faces, I guess…”

  “Who are you?” Callum asked, and the man turned sharply towards him.

  “I would recommend you keep quiet, soldier. I have heard what you did to our Ted. You couldn’t have picked a man more respected or loved around here to hurt. Obviously, you had no idea who he was, but I’ll kill you all the same if he doesn’t make it. You are alive for as long as I want you to be, so think about that.” Callum decided to obey, for both of their sakes. “I’m Captain Fillmore, by the way, and you will address me as such. I am in charge of this place and these people. Who we are? We’ll get to that soon; you may enjoy the answer to that.”

  “Why have we been attacked and brought in like this? My father here was only protecting us when he hurt your guy; how can you hold that against him?”

  “I don’t care why he did it — he’s also not your father. We know who you are, Dante Castello. Keep your bullshit to yourself when you get out of here. You’re going to need to know how to lie and how to defend yourself quite soon. Your gift is amazing, but it might not be enough once you’re in your new home.”

  Dante shuffled awkwardly in his seat. The man knew too much about him, and he had the power to kill, kidnap, or save them with a single order. I’ve never felt so powerless before, the healer thought with worry. There was literally nothing they could do but attempt to stay on the man’s good books.

  “Tell me,” Dante began with a small smile, “What is it you want to do with us?”

  “It depends,” the man spread his hands on the table and breathed deeply. “Have you heard of the University?”

  The last remaining soldier sent another stress signal to the headquarters back home. He was running as fast as he could, the comm’s device on his helmet failing, but still functional enough to send and receive messages.

  “Hold on, we’re on our way,” his comrades said, and he silently prayed that they arrived on time to extract him from the area. He paused for a moment for a breather, his head turning back to the bridge where the column of black smoke rose. The attack had been sudden and violent: one minute they had been watching the rough, dusty lands, the next he had appeared.

  “Look,” was all Private Garner had had the time to say.

  The figure lifted the rocket launcher to his bionic eye and fired in a single fluid movement a second later.

  Three of the five guards sitting inside the small outpost died immediately, their bodies caught in the detonation of a powerful explosive charge which hit them head on. Garner had been watching from the back and was thrown off his feet and almost off the bridge itself, the metal structure that stretched over the abyss bending under
the impact of the missile. He tried hard to stand, but his mind was a swimming mess.

  To her credit, Victoria was already up and firing at the approaching threat, her rifle crackling with each burst as she pulled the trigger on semi-auto.

  “Come and help me! He isn’t going down!”

  Garner stood in time to see the man running towards them and felt his blood turn cold. Truly enough, the beast — for it was no man — was shrugging off each pulse of Victoria’s rifle with little more than a grimace. Finally, the protective field broke and the private understood how he’d absorbed so much punishment.

  It didn’t matter anymore though; the intruder was already only several feet away.

  Garner ran. He heard Victoria’s final frustrated scream and the subsequent gurgling as something was stabbed into her throat, but at least he was going to make it away alive. Whoever the intruder was, Captain Fillmore needed to know.

  Yes, Garner thought, that’s it. I need to get away to let him know what just happened. In his mind it sounded like a good enough excuse. Tears still ran down his cheek, nevertheless. He had fled like the pathetic coward he was.

  Now, half an hour away from the bridge, he looked back ahead and sighed. He’d run far enough to stop at least for a moment and reflect on what had happened.

  “I’m sorry Victoria,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure to come back to give you a proper buri—”

  His left leg caved under him, and he collapsed screaming. His hands instinctively flew to the place where he had felt the pain, but there was nothing there anymore but the hanging flesh and bone. Garner trembled in pain and shock as he sat up and saw the damage. Everything below the knee was gone.

  The bang came a moment later, a faraway noise that revealed a sniper who cared little about detection.

  A small speck appeared on the horizon, an approaching soldier with a long rifle slung over his back. There was something strange about his body, as if it was part-machine. Garner stared despite the pain, his whimpering fading as he began to recognize the man that was coming ever so closer.

  He had heard of Ayia’s warlord. The Lord of Lawlessness.

  The fallen fighter knew what came next. He looked around desperately, wishing for a miracle to occur. Surely, my friends have to be close. Come on....

  The figure came slowly, his stern face softening into an expression of amusement. The look on his face was one of a predator preparing to eat injured prey.

  Garner lay on the rough ground helplessly until the man was only a few feet away, breathing heavily like a beast.

  The sound of metal on leather reached his ears and he looked up to see the warlord pulling a fearsome blade from its scabbard. It whispered, seemingly carrying some sort of strange presence within its form. As if it’s alive, the wounded man thought.

  When it plunged into him, Private Garner didn’t just feel physical pain.

  He felt his very soul being sucked out from within him.

  After the man was dead, his killer tore the corpse’s helmet off and glanced inside it. It was too small for his head because of his enhancements, but he could improvise. His bionic hand reached inside and he pinched his fingers onto some inner wiring. With a small tug, the man removed the comm’s device from inside the helmet.

  He placed it to his ear and listened.

  “…on our way, Silver Pass bridge is under attack, smoke visible from here. ETA: Ten minutes, we’ll get those bastards…”

  Lord Russell turned back and looked at the chaos he had created.

  With a smirk, he walked back into the smoking wreck of the outpost and sighed softly.

  “And now we wait.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~Split Paths~

  Dante glanced at Callum. The soldier made an effort not to react at the officer’s question. To a stranger, Callum had not shown a single sign of knowing what the University was, but to Dante it was as if the man’s eyes had sprung open and his jaw dropped. He simply knew Callum too well.

  “Seems like you do,” Fillmore said with a chuckle. By the looks of it, he was also good at reading facial expressions. “Well…it exists, and it is why we are out here. You would never have reached the tundra undetected, so stop taking our interception personally. These territories are ours to protect. You intruded on them and you’re lucky to be alive. The thing is,” he said with a thoughtful face, “Your name is on a list, Dante.”

  The healer sat up straight, shooting a strange look at the man across him.

  “What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Oh, well, those at the University aren’t sitting idly by, hoping for someone to reach them like you may think. Actually, it’s clearly what you believed, and you wouldn’t have made it there on a motorcycle — instead, we and other groups help pick up those ‘gifted’ individuals of this new world. It may not be easy, but you’re not the first or the last of your kind to come across us, Dante.”

  Callum couldn’t hold back anymore. He shifted on his seat and cleared his throat.

  “What happens to these individuals once they arrive at the University?”

  Captain Fillmore rose from his chair and pulled his gun from his holster.

  Dante cried out and begged him to put it away. Callum simply stared up the barrel at the man pointing it at him.

  “I told you, you bastard. Stay silent.”

  “Answer the question, sir, please!” Dante exclaimed. “It’s for me. I need to know. Not him.”

  The officer’s eyes narrowed, and his hand trembled. It was clear that he wanted to kill Callum, but finally he put the gun away.

  “That was your last warning.” He turned back to the healer and closed his eyes for an instant before opening them again. “Life is tough in there, but you’re going to learn what you need to know from the best. They’ll teach you the right ways and the wrong on how and when to use your gifts, and of course how to survive.”

  “I already have someone who teaches me how to survive, and you’re a moment away from killing him,” Dante said with emotion.

  Captain Fillmore cursed loudly and put his gun down.

  “This is different, boy. You’ll understand later.” He sat back down and shifted awkwardly. “Now, tell me more about where you were coming from and what you were doing before we found you. We need to know.”

  The story followed, Dante knowing well enough to keep his involvement out of the tale when it came to the collapse of Russell’s skyscraper. Fillmore’s eyes widened when he heard of how Ayia’s warlord had fallen in such a spectacular manner, but respectfully kept silent. The healer spoke with admiration about his guardian, but the captain was uninterested.

  “Please, tell me more about the people who managed to escape Ayia after the events took place.”

  Dante mentioned the Whisperer and his gang, and soon the tale followed the events that had occurred at the oilfield village. He didn’t need to look at Callum’s face to understand that certain parts of the story weren’t for Fillmore’s ears, but he did well to tell the story.

  Finally, the captain nodded and looked content.

  “You’ll be an excellent candidate for the University. You’re very capable for such a young child.”

  Dante feigned a smile and suddenly became serious.

  “So…when am I going there?”

  The captain turned away from them both and began to listen to something outside. Certainly, there was the sound of an engine coming from the area surrounding the outpost. He seemed to make a decision in his mind before speaking again.

  “Well,” Fillmore said with a grin, “Right away by the looks of it.”

  Callum put a hand around Dante’s head and pulled him close into his chest. The lad was weeping, and his tears were not for the patrol’s sake. He was fearful and nervous, despite his wanderlust and desire for answers. It was clear that Dante didn’t believe for a minute that he’d be seeing the soldier again.

  “Don’t lose hope, buddy. You’ll be done there in time to s
ee the community thriving and expecting you with open arms. I’ll never forget you; once I get out of here and back home I’ll tell them how brave you’ve been until now. I’ll tell them of our heroic mission and how we defeated the enemies at Ayia. Don’t ever give up, son. You’re a wonderboy, as Johanna called you. Do this for her, for me, and for yourself.” He hugged the boy one last time and fought to keep his composure. “Good luck.”

  He was pulled away by one of the guards and had to make do with watching Dante wave as he too was pulled away to a truck larger than the one they’d arrived in. The rain hadn’t stopped, and neither had the storm that roared and crackled in the sky above them.

  The truck’s engine kicked and roared, and Callum watched sadly as the vehicle sped up and left the area, following a dirt trail that continued the rest of the journey north. That should have been us on a motorcycle. Good luck, boy; I won’t forget you for a single moment.