by Joss Ware
“Yes,” Mr. Waxnicki said. Despite the fact that Elliott had been born before him, he found it impossible to think of the elderly man by anything other than his title. Damn good manners, drilled into his head by his abuela.
“My twin brother Theo and I happened to be here in
Vegas—that,” he added, looking at Elliott, “was what made me realize that you’re . . . different. No one would speak of this place as Las Vegas any longer. No one your age, anyway.”
“Is that really the fucking Pacific Ocean out there?” Fence asked, leaning forward in his chair. His large hands and solid wrists rested on his knees, bared by the cut-off shorts he’d dragged on when Elliott woke him.
Mr. Waxnicki nodded. “Yes, it is. My brother and I were here at the time everything happened. Not for fun, but for work. Computer geeks,” he said with a wry smile. “I haven’t used that term in a long time either.”
“For good reason,” Sage put in. Her voice had turned pleasant and lilting now that she wasn’t pissed off anymore. She looked around the room. “The computers are a secret.”
“We figured that,” Wyatt said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “The secret lair in the unused corner of the hotel and all.”
Sage’s gaze frosted, but she didn’t respond.
“Go on, Lou,” Jade said. “Tell them how it all happened.”
“Very simply, all hell broke loose,” Mr. Waxnicki said. His voice became a bit thready, his eyes a bit unfocused, but he didn’t pause. “The buildings shook and the earth erupted. This was no ordinary earthquake, nothing like anything we’d ever experienced. People died in the quake, but they also died from . . . I don’t know for certain, there’s no way to know now, but it seemed as if some gasses were released from the earth, or somewhere. Like I said earlier, people just died. Dropped like flies everywhere.”
“But you didn’t? You and your brother?”
“I didn’t. A very few of us escaped injury and death. My brother . . . he. . . .” Mr. Waxnicki hesitated, glanced at Jade. “Well, things were different with him. I’ll tell you more about that later.”
“People died in the quake,” Fence said. “But how could California and half of Nevada and who the hell knows what else just fucking drop into the ocean? I mean, there were always fears about the San Andreas Fault, but this is not just the San Andreas Fault,” Fence said.
“Oh, no, no it’s not,” Mr. Waxnicki replied. The sharpness returned to his face, and the unfocused look eased from his eyes. “It wasn’t Mother Nature who did this. And it didn’t just happen here.”
“But how can you know that if the place was destroyed?” Wyatt demanded. “There could be other parts of the country—there have to be. A quake wouldn’t destroy all of the United States.”
“My brother and I aren’t just computer geeks,” Mr. Waxnicki said. “We’re fucking computer geniuses. We were poised to be the next Don Knuth or Linus Torvalds. In fact, we may as well be.”
Elliott found it quite an anomaly to hear the elderly man use the F-word. Senior citizens in his day just didn’t throw that word around. Of course they didn’t generally have ponytails either and he supposed if the guy had lived through the apocalypse, he had the right to say fuck. And whatever the hell else he wanted to say.
“It was many months later,” Lou Waxnicki stressed, and Elliott thought he might be able to think of him as Lou now that he’d shown off his dirty mouth. “Many months before we were able to do much of anything but look for food and water and see who’d survived. But once we realized this was what we had to live with and work in, Theo and I and the other few survivors began to organize ourselves.
“We’d been running electrical generators on gasoline stores that we found, and Theo and I were able to find a few computers and set them up. Eventually, maybe a year after all of this happened, we were able to hack into weather satellites, and some other ones. That,” he said, looking at Wyatt, “is how we know that these catastrophic events happened worldwide. And,” he added, turning his gaze at each of them in turn, “that, just a bit northeast of where Hawaii used to be, a small continent the size of Colorado had erupted in the Pacific Ocean.”
A continent?
“But the most important thing we’ve come to believe is that the cause was man-made.”
“Lou believes it wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t Mother Nature going haywire,” Jade put in, her eyes sober. She was looking directly at Elliott.
“And it wasn’t a materialization of the Mayan End of Times prophecy,” Sage said in precise tones, sounding a bit like a lecturing professor. “They’d predicted great devastation or, at least, a great change in the world, and many people expected it to happen on December twenty-first, two thousand twelve. But this happened two and a half years earlier, in June of two-thousand ten.”
“The bottom line is, the destruction of the earth—and humanity—was deliberate.” Lou’s words settled flat and heavy in the room.
Elliott was the first one to find his voice. “But . . . how? By whom?” Maybe Sam Pinglett wasn’t too far off when he said Lou Waxnicki was crazy. “Nuclear war? Aliens?” He couldn’t believe he said it with a straight face. But this world was so bizarre, he didn’t think twice. Anything could happen.
“We call them Strangers.” Lou shrugged, a brief glint of humor in his gray-blue eyes. “For lack of a better name . . . because that’s what they are. Strangers. To us.” The light moment passed as quickly as it had come, and a shadow crossed his face. “For a variety of reasons, Theo and I have come to the conclusion that the Strangers caused the Change. We believe they wanted to take over the earth, and somehow caused all the destruction as a way to destroy the human race—or most of it.”
Elliott stared at him and felt the same disbelief from the others. He felt the urge to pinch the shit out of himself in hopes of waking up from this dream, and once again considered sympathizing with Sam Pinglett’s impression of Lou.
But . . . no. This man was too intelligent. Too sane, too focused and clear-eyed to be a paranoid conspiracy theorist.
Wasn’t he?
“So, the Strangers aren’t gangas. So they’re . . . what? Aliens? Something else?” Wyatt asked.
“They look like us, but they’re different. No one’s sure if they’re human or not,” Lou explained. “But Jade knows as much or more about the Strangers than any of us. She lived among them for three years.”
“In captivity,” Sage added flatly. “She was kept a prisoner.”
Elliott’s gaze shifted to Jade and he felt an uncomfortable twist in his belly that had nothing to do with the ganga gouges on his shoulder.
Three years. What had they done to her?
Jade met his gaze with clear green eyes, as if she had nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. She spoke in her low, husky voice, “The Strangers are immortal—or, at least, they can’t be killed. You can tell a Stranger for sure when you see them without a shirt on.”
Their eyes met and Elliott swore he saw a light rose tinge her cheeks and she looked away. His lips twitched in a little smile. No wonder she’d asked him to take his shirt off right away.
“That’s why I believed we could trust you. I saw Elliott after the battle with the gangas, after they’d torn your shirt off.” Jade looked at him sidewise. “The Strangers breed and control the gangas, so they’d never want or need to fight them.”
“The gangas are their mercenary army. Strong, easily controlled, and dispensable. If not dumb as rocks,” Lou put in. “Like the Orcs, from The Lord of the Rings.”
“They’re too dumb to be more than an inconvenience,” Fence said.
“Unless you’re really outnumbered,” Wyatt added. “Then it might get hairy.”
Sage lifted an eyebrow, turning a frigid stare at them. “People are killed by gangas all the time. Don’t underestimate them.”
But Elliott’s thoughts had stayed on a different train of thought. “And how can you identify the shirtless Strangers? A marking on the skin?
A missing navel? A third nipple?”
Christ. This sounded like . . . well, something out of a science fiction novel or a Star Trek episode. But he was fucking living a science fiction novel now . . . one that was getting more frightening by the moment.
“They have a stone embedded in their skin, right here,” Jade said, pulling the neckline of her shirt away to expose her delicate clavicle. Elliott was fairly sure he was the only guy in the room whose mouth went suddenly dry as he looked at the smooth, sexy hollow.
“There’s a little gem or crystal right here, in the soft part of the skin just below the collarbone,” Jade was saying, oblivious to Elliott’s inappropriate fascination. “Some of them have one on each side, some have just one. It’s what gives them their immortality and their power.”
She brushed the neckline of her shirt back into place and settled back in her chair.
Elliott drew in a steadying breath, thinking of all the information they’d obtained in the last day . . . hell, in the last thirty minutes. He found it impossible to assimilate it all: beachfront property where the Strip had been, lions and elephants roaming wild, gangas . . . and humanlike aliens with crystals in their skin. Aliens who were trying to control the human population, according to Lou and Theo.
Maybe Lou and his brother were crazy. Maybe it was that simple.
But Elliott hadn’t imagined the gangas. Nor had he imagined his double-edged sword of a superpower.
If gangas and superpowers were real, it was just as likely that these crystal-ridden aliens were too.
“So are you and Theo the only ones who think the Strangers are out to get us? From everything I’ve seen, the human race doesn’t look suppressed. It just looks as if it’s trying to recover from massive annihilation.” Wyatt was speaking
to Lou.
The elderly man looked grim. “The truth is, most people don’t think much about the Strangers, and if they do, they think of them as our friends and allies. Cohabitants of our world.”
“And they’re not?”
“No.” His answer was definitive and hard. “Most of them don’t see it, or haven’t experienced their evil. They’re afraid of the gangas, of course, but the Strangers look and act just like us. So they figure if they don’t bother the Strangers, the Strangers won’t bother them.”
“Wrong,” said Jade flatly. “Completely wrong.”
“But what do they do that’s such a threat?” Wyatt demanded. “We’ve been traveling around for six months and we’ve never run into any of them.”
“That you know of,” Sage added archly. “Anyone you met might have been sporting a crystal beneath their clothing.”
Jade spoke quietly. “They kidnap women and enslave them, for one.”
Elliott’s heart lurched. Was that what had happened to her?
“They do experiments on humans. People disappear sometimes, taken by the Strangers. There are mass executions—that way no one is alive to tell the tale,” Jade continued. The room had fallen silent. “I witnessed one take place in a small settlement of fifty people. They locked them in a large, open building and set the gangas in on them. Even the children.”
“But everything they do is in secret,” Lou continued. “It can’t be attached to the Strangers, because then they would be in danger of us fighting back. And that’s what we do here, in this little room.” He said, gestured at the array of electronics. “This is the headquarters of the very secret, small but growing Resistance. Against the Strangers.
“Case in point—last night, Jade overheard a conversation between a tradesman here in Envy, and a Stranger.” He looked at her.
Jade’s eyes fastened on Elliott once again. “That’s really the reason you’re here. We hope you’ll help us—to join the Resistance and help us try and learn about the Strangers, and to help stop them from enslaving and killing humans.”
“Why us?” asked Simon, breaking his silence.
“Because you’re . . . different.”
That was an understatement.
A quiet ding sounded, and Sage whirled her chair to face the closest computer screen. “It’s an email from Theo.”
“About damn time,” muttered Lou.
“It’s coming in under a new ID,” Sage said. “That’s weird.”
“Maybe he’s afraid someone found his old one,” Jade suggested. “Is everything all right?”
The sound of computer keys clicking filled the room as Lou and Jade rose to stand behind Sage. They looked at the screen over her shoulder, and the three of them must have read the email or seen whatever it was—they couldn’t have email, could they?—at the same time, for Elliott saw Lou’s shoulders draw back and tighten and Jade’s slump almost simultaneously, before turning from the computer screen.
They faced each other, and she squared her shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “I’ll go get the stuff for Theo. Greenside’s only a few hours from here and I’ll be back by nighttime. Besides, it’ll give me the chance to talk with Luke and see if he has any other news.”
“Jade, you just got back. The stuff in Greenside can wait until Theo gets there.”
“But what if something’s wrong with Theo? We haven’t heard from him in days, and now we’re hearing from him under a different account. It just feels like something’s wrong. Maybe he’s actually in Greenside himself—maybe that’s the important ‘data’ that he’s sending us to get. Maybe he’s injured. Maybe that’s why he’s communicating under a new ID.”
“Maybe, maybe, maybe,” Lou said. “He’s so damn brief sometimes. I wish he’d be more specific about why he didn’t make your meeting.”
“You know how he is. Short and to the point. He wouldn’t be sending messages if something was wrong. Anyway, you need to be here in case he checks in again.” Jade’s words sounded easy, but even Elliott, without knowing the situation, recognized a little bit of bullshit when he heard it.
“I’ll go with you,” Elliott said, leaning forward. As he moved, his shoulder screamed with pain and he nearly gasped at the shock. What the hell? It seemed to be getting worse.
The elderly man looked at him, and Elliott saw real fear in his eyes. “All right. You two go. Get the stuff from Luke that Theo thinks is so important, and get back here as soon as you can. I’m not liking this whole thing with Rob Nurmikko either, Jade. Something’s going on. You can fill Elliott in on what we know, and let’s hope the stuff Luke has is worth the trip.”
Elliott looked at Jade. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as you’re ready.”
That was when Elliott realized that he’d just signed up for a possibly dangerous mission with a gorgeous woman . . . that he couldn’t lay a finger on.
Just fucking great.
Three weeks After
Found Theo!
He was just where he should have been, in the subterranean backup room. Took two days to dig through by hand. He’s not dead, but was in sort of a coma. Woke him up with difficulty, but now that he’s awake, he seems fine.
Don’t want to do this without him.
Our number has grown to nearly a hundred here in what used to be New York–New York. And there are another hundred in the Mandalay hotel. More people arriving every day, but in trickles.
Have taken charge of getting the power working again. Still using generators, and some power still coming in from the station. Rowe and I discussed sending a group to Hoover Dam to see if that’s where it’s coming from. I suspect it is if the dam wasn’t destroyed. Remember from a TV show that it could run for a year without human intervention.
Maybe there are other survivors there too.
So we have some lights. Plugged in computer. No Internet. No cell phone.
The world beyond us is silent. But Theo’s here.
—from the journal of Lou Waxnicki
Chapter 9
Elliott had learned how to compartmentalize his mind during the long, brain-sucking hours of his medical residency and four years working as an emergency p
hysician, plus his volunteer time rebuilding the hospital in Haiti. He could block out emotions or thoughts while focusing on his current situation, saving them for later when he had the luxury to indulge.
He could put away the tragedy of a young boy who died from gunshot wounds before Elliott could even start the surgery that would save him, and focus on the next patient—a young woman, who needed her appendix out pronto—without letting it slow him down, or distract him.
The tragedy would come back to haunt him later, when he lay dry-eyeball-up, staring at the ceiling and trying to sleep. But for the time being, he could stash it away.
Which explained why, even after hearing all that Lou Waxnicki had told them that morning—which was only the tip of the iceberg of what they wanted and needed to know—Elliott was able to block the horror, the reality of it all, from his mind. At least for now. He’d get the answers to the infinite questions he had . . . but later. When he’d had time to let it settle.
Because . . . damn it. Damn it.
Even though he’d been traveling around for the last six months, he hadn’t fully accepted that this world was no more than what it seemed. These last few months had been an adventure, a journey. A nightmarish one. He was going to go home at the end of it, back to his normal life.
Only . . . he wasn’t.
Ever.
He simply couldn’t imagine living here. How? Where? What would he do?
Would he ever feel at home again?
So he compartmentalized. He fought it back, afraid of what would happen if it overwhelmed him. If it took over. There’d be time to think about it later when he stared at the ceiling, or the starry sky, or the rotting timbers of the roof of a half-demolished building.
For now, he needed to pack a few things to take with him on this mission with Jade. And for some reason, that steadied him. Knowing he would be with her, even though their task was uncertain and could be dangerous.
It wasn’t because of the potential of them getting together.