by David Peters
Dylan replaced the three rounds while he watched for several minutes. There was no cavalry riding to aid their comrades. His gunshots could have been heard for miles in this valley so there was no telling if Corrupted would come to investigate and how long that would take.
“Let’s head home, Buck. I think I have gotten all the information I’m going to get without getting more unwanted attention.”
He rode back the way he had come and didn’t make camp until well after dusk. He considered riding through the night but not being able to see anything would defeat the whole point of his ride in the first place. With the thick layer of clouds forming overhead, parts of the road could prove to be far too dangerous. One misstep near a washout or over a fallen tree could mean a broken leg for Buck or a broken neck for him. It wasn’t worth it.
He awoke nearly a dozen times throughout the night. Every breeze would rustle the trees and he would bolt awake with his pistol in hand. He spent the last hour of darkness staring out the tent flap and simply waiting for the sun to rise and give him light enough to see the road. When daybreak finally came he found himself more tired than when he had set up his camp the previous night.
Several hours later he found the same gas station he had passed two days earlier and stopped to see if there were any new signs of people. He found a multitude of footprints that he didn’t recall seeing before. Many of the footprints were on top of Buck’s horseshoe marks from a few days previous. He looked around but again, could see no sign of anyone living. There were several new bare feet along with a small pair of hiking boots. One of the boot prints had the textured sole blotted out, as if they were held together by tape or a wrapping of some sort. The boots looked to be about a size ten, narrow. If he had to guess, it was a female and two kids, roughly six and eight or nine.
He reached into his pack and pulled out a small camping bag containing his remaining food and water. He briefly thought about leaving his pistol but if she had made it this long, she already had a weapon or knew how to defend herself without one.
He looked around the cliff walls before cupping his hands over his mouth, “Follow this road in the same direction I’m going. About eighteen miles or so you will find a tunnel. The tunnel is safe to travel through. When you come out you will see chimney smoke on a distant hill. That’s is where we live. It is safe there behind our walls. You will have food and shelter and we will welcome you with open arms. You will not be harmed. You will be fed and your children will be safe,” Dylan yelled out to no one in particular.
He tossed the bag containing three of the military ready-to-eat meals onto the ground and coaxed Buck back onto the road, “If you choose not to come, be safe out here. We will be back this way soon if you think it is too far to walk.”
They would come or they would not. It wasn’t his place to force them. He knew many people that didn’t want to live within their walls and expected there would be more in the future. There was no use in worrying about what happened to them. They had survived this long, they would survive longer. He did not look back.
Chapter 3
“That’s some barren land out there, Dylan,” Caperson said as he sipped on his tea. “You really didn’t see anyone?”
“I saw signs of people. You know, looted cars, gas stations, that kind of thing but I never saw so much as a trail of smoke from a campfire. About fifty miles west of here I thought for sure I could smell cooking eggs and meat of some kind but I couldn’t pin down where it was coming from. There are people out there and they don’t want anything to do with anyone else, of that there is little doubt.”
“They could just be scared. You are kind of heavily armed riding around on a horse, a good six-days growth of scraggly beard but obviously doing well physically. I’m sure they don’t see a lot of that,” Niccole said.
Dylan shrugged, “There is that.”
Caperson scratched out several notes as Dylan relayed his trip details. Markers for unclaimed salvage were added in pencil while dangerous parts of the highway were marked in ink or crayon. Occasionally, he would interrupt with questions.
“Where did you smell the eggs cooking?”
Dylan slid his finger along the map and tapped, “Right about there. Winds were moving from the north over this sharp ridge line but they were kind of squirrelly. Near as I could guess, it would put them somewhere up this bluff or maybe in this bowl here. They would have a pretty good view of the highway but there isn’t anything out there to see. I’m not even sure where they would get water.”
“Must be chickens somewhere.”
Dylan chuckled, “Okay, so there are chickens out there and they are making omelets in the morning.”
“Guess we should add cannibal chickens to the list of things to watch out for,” Niccole said with a smile.
Caperson smiled at her and looked back to the map, “When did you see your first patrol?”
“About here,” he tapped the map. “I pushed a little further and bumped into two more patrols before turning and heading back. It felt like I was getting close enough that reinforcements might arrive or I could have a patrol double back behind me. We don’t know the exact location or the patrol routes.”
“They show any interest?”
“Second two never even knew I was there, I was pretty far away. The first one I met as I came up out of a gully. Lone Hunter. He screamed, we fought, and I won. Pretty straight forward. Travis will be happy to know those new rounds are amazing. One shot kills on everything and if the bullet doesn’t pass all the way through, they pretty much dissolve.”
“You okay? He get a piece of you?” Caperson asked without looking away from the large wall map.
“Came close but nothing to be worried about I’ll tell you right now, after a week of nothing but the sound of a horse, that scream turns your veins to ice.”
“I’ll bet. Just Hunters on patrol, no Guards, I like that,” Caperson said with a nod.
“Means a small hive that should be easy pickin’s if we are careful and plan it out right.”
Caperson grabbed his tea and headed for the couch, “We have to take out that hive. There isn’t any way for us to get to the coast and back without going north, way too close to Portland, or way the hell south around the mountains. If we try to slip through there is a chance they could cut us off on the coast, or worse, follow us back here.”
“Patrol size seems to follow hive size, you notice that?”
“Yeah, was just thinking that. Folkesburg was huge and had Guards on patrol. Sumter was only two most of the time and toward the end we were starting to see groups of three. They still had workers in one of the patrols.”
“So you agree it’s a small hive then?”
“I would, but even a small hive can have several thousand Hunters ready to pour out and tear us apart and an even bigger number of Sappers willing to pop.”
“I wish I could have gotten a look at it,” Dylan said as he shook his head.
“Why is that?” Caperson asked.
“What if it’s so small it doesn’t have a stack? Our improvised attack method won’t work if they don’t pull the stuff in themselves,” Dylan said as he continued to look at the map.
“Crap, didn’t think about that. We haven’t had a single report of a stackless hive though. Not even a rumor of one. We’ve heard of what, thirty hives maybe? All of them had at least one stack, sometimes as many as three.”
“Think Travis can come up with something just in case?” Dylan asked.
“Maybe, but on such short notice? We just have to hope that they are consistent,” Caperson said with a shrug. “We could bring a case of Dust grenades and just go wild throwing them into the entrance. That would at least buy us enough time to get out to the coast and probably all the way back before they could even pass through the entrance let alone organize an attack.”
“That’s a pretty big guess. If they attack when we are on the way back, we will lose a ton of people.”
“They w
on’t.”
“So we hope for the best and plan for the worst.”
“Then as far as I’m concerned it has a stack. It would have to if they are fielding patrols. They have a lot of ‘Rupts in there and they need the cooling,” Caperson said as a matter of fact.
“And we can kill it.”
“Let’s do it,” Dylan added
Niccole asked, “So how do we set this up? Do you want the caravan to wait while the hive gets hit or keep moving?”
“I think the strike team should leave ahead of the rescue group,” Caperson said, “Help clear the way too. Make sure we kill any of those patrols on the road and follow the path all the way to the hive.”
“How far ahead? Are you thinking miles? Days?”
“Two days,” he nodded as he thought to himself, “Yeah, two days. That gives us one day to watch the hive and get an idea about patrols and what not. Then we can plan out our attack once we see what we are up against. If it goes south then they have time to turn around and warn the follow-on transports that it ain’t going to happen.”
“And if something goes really bad and we can’t warn them?” Travis asked.
Dylan looked at the map for several moments, “If we aren’t waiting at this cut-off for Highway Six,” he pointed to the map, “they turn their butts back around and get the hell back home. Figure out something else. They can leave a point guard at the Smith Tunnel in case we are forced to pull the herd somewhere else. We can’t get back into the valley without going way the hell north and neither can the ‘Rupts.”
“Good fallback plan,” Caperson nodded, “Not that I think there is anything else we can do. If we can’t wipe the hive out, they can’t get here. We knock it out or we fail and leave three-thousand people to get slaughtered on the beach.”
“Let’s get the team together and start getting people tasked,” Dylan said as he grabbed his coat.
~1~
Charles watched the rain splatter against the glass and run down in streaks as the storm pelted the helpless vessel. He drummed his fingers impatiently as the ship rocked in the heavy surf. Winds were already dying down but experience told him this was not the worst this storm had to offer. His hand rested on the helm that would normally control the ship. The myriad of computer screens dark and useless. A smile crossed his face as it occurred to him that it was probably the most pointless station he could possibly be standing in front of at this moment.
He shook his head in anger, he may as well be walking around in fuel handler colors on a deck with no gas for all it was worth. He was the captain of what used to be one of the largest extensions of power the world had ever created. A finger of strength that could be pointed at any corner of the globe. Now it was simply a drifting pile of steel.
The rains had already passed over them but there was a dark gray ribbon on the horizon, the follow on storm was coming close behind. He knew it was probably the same storm but without the satellite imagery connecting the fronts there was no way to tell. There could be a chain of these clouds hundreds, maybe thousands of miles long. Pelting them relentlessly.
“Sir?” a small voice spoke from behind. “I’m supposed to talk to you.”
Charles was startled by the voice and turned to see a small boy standing in the doorway, “Sorry, kid, lost in thought. What can I do for you?”
The child answered nervously, “Neil sent me with a message. He wanted you to know that,” the boy closed his eyes as he tried to repeat Neil’s words correctly, “all of the batteries have been moved as you requested. Everything that needed to be dry is in a weather trunk,” he paused as he tried to remember, “he also sent this paper for you to check over.” The little boy opened his eyes as he handed a clipboard to the captain.
Charles flipped through the pages, “So, no major issues that I see here. Very good, did he pass on any concerns or questions?”
“He isn’t sure where we should start stacking the supplies, sir.” The boy closed his eyes again as he recalled Neil’s exact words again, “We still don’t know how she will come to rest when we beach so we won’t know which side of the ship will be closest to the shore. These storms can be a bitch.”
He looked at the boy with raised eyebrows.
“Sorry, sir. I don’t think I was supposed to say that last part.”
Charles smiled at the boy, he was obviously putting everything he had into repeating exactly what he was told word-for-word, “I guess I need to talk to Neil about his language around children. He is correct, these storms can be a bitch. Split them up evenly between the aft elevators. It will make them easier to move when we finally do make landfall. We could just as easily nose in and have to use both.”
“Split it between the aft elevators,” he said with his eyes closed, “I’ll tell him that, sir,” the boy continued nervously.
“How are you doing? Is everything okay, son?”
“Yeah, sure, fine,” he said as he looked around the bridge.
“How old are you?”
“I’m nine, sir, but I’m mature for my age. That’s what Neil always says anyways. I get jobs that other kids don’t get to do so I guess what he says might be right. Don’t know, I guess,” he added in a shy tone of voice and a shrug of his shoulders.
The boy had been on this ship for six years now and probably never even seen the bridge. All the control facilities were off limits to anyone that didn’t work in them.
“I wasn’t implying anything different. Do you even remember anything before coming aboard?”
“No, sir. Neil has taken care of me since I got here. I don’t remember my real parents much. I remember having a house by the water and a brown dog but not much else.”
Charles felt a mental pain at the thought. He spent so much time worrying about the big picture that he had never really gotten to know anyone that had arrived. He corrected himself in a flash of realization. He intentionally made himself distant, locked away both physically and mentally. While the others had moved into the hangar, he had remained below in the dank hallways, alone. His torment was of his own creation. He knew the mental hole he was in but he could see no light at the end of the tunnel for himself.
When he wasn’t on the command deck or in a meeting he was in his cabin wondering what he had done in a past life to be dealt the hand he was now playing. He fought the urge to be alone and turned to face the boy, “You’re welcome to come all the way onto the bridge if you would like. I guess it isn’t much of a bridge anymore but all the buttons and switches are still here. Some of them are still lit, so I guess that’s cool.”
“I had to have permission from Neil to even go through the bulkhead, isn’t this one of the totally off-limits places, sir? I was told I can’t cross anything with the red and white-striped tape,” he said pointing down at the impromptu tape line in the doorway.
“I guess this is one of those places, but aren’t I kind of in charge of everything? I mean, if anyone can say it’s okay, it would be me. Right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“So I think that means that if I say it’s okay for you to come in, then it’s okay for you to come in,” he said with a smile.
The boy stepped forward timidly, “I guess so. You are kind of the boss of things.”
Boss of things. If the small child in front of him could only comprehend the weight of those words.
He smiled at the boy as best he could, “So you live with Neil in the aft hangar?”
“Yes, sir. He built me a room of my own. All of my friends have to share so it’s pretty cool. It isn’t big, but like Neil says, it’s a place I can call my own.” He hastily added, “Uh, sir.”
The captain smiled, “You can just call me Charles. Mr. Lewis if it makes you more comfortable but I prefer Charles.”
“If you say so, sir.”
Charles laughed, “No really, it’s okay. What’s your name?”
“Alex, but Neil usually calls me Little Rex. He says that when I was younger, I ate like a dinosau
r.” The little boy smiled at his nickname.
“I like the name Alex. My son’s name was Charles Jr. He would be a little older than you are now.”
“Is he on the ship?”
“No, he isn’t. I wish they had been able to get here but it just wasn’t possible.”
“But you’re the captain, right? Couldn’t you just go and get them? Neil said a helicopter came and got me and the people I was with. Couldn’t you just send a helicopter to pick them up too?”
Charles felt a tear forming and turned to look out the large windows, “Things were different back then. I couldn’t exactly go anywhere I wanted. Until the Admirals ship’s ticket was punched, I wasn’t in charge of much more than making sure we didn’t run into anyone and that all the helicopters in the air didn’t hit each other.”
“That kind of sucks,” the boy said flatly.
“You have no idea how much that sucks, Alex. I think about them every damn day and it sucks a whole bunch. Probably more than I can handle on some days.”
“I’m sorry, I wish I could help you,” the small voice said with bare honesty.
“So do I,” Charles replied quietly.
Alex could only nod but remained silent.
Charles took a deep breath before he changed the subject, “You are happy with Neil taking care of you though, right?”
“Yeah,” he said with a smile, “he teaches me so much cool stuff. He is really good at figuring stuff out. People come by with things to fix all the time and he lets me help. Sometimes he lets me do it all by myself. I got to use the grinder the other day. On real steel!”
Charles smiled as the boy happily told his story.
“There was this angle bracket that needed to be shortened on one side so we trimmed it,” he pantomimed how he did it, “and then I got to use the grinder to roll the edges. The thing looked good when I was done, too! It was really cool.”
“That’s good. Fixing things is probably one of the most useful skills to have now. You learn what he has to teach you and you will soon find yourself one of the most valuable people in town.”