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Love Bug

Page 12

by Goodhue, H. E.


  “And you serve me,” Eldritch smiled, a cold predatory look settling across his gaze. Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place and boredom no longer seemed to be an issue. “So you are able to run fast. That’s good, but can you do anything else? Any other super human feats?”

  “What would you like to see, sir?” his aide asked.

  “I don’t know,” Eldritch thought for a moment. “Jump high.”

  Eldritch’s aide paused for a moment, all of his muscles tensing, coiling to release in one motion. The man sprang ten feet into the air, well over what he should have been able to accomplish, before landing on the floor. “Was that acceptable, sir?” his aide asked, limping slightly.

  “Are you injured?” Eldritch asked, more from a stance of scientific interest as opposed to concern.

  “Not sure, Mr. Eldritch,” his aide answered as he flexed his foot. “I may have torn the tendon or perhaps a muscle, but I can try again if you would like.”

  “That’s absurd,” Edlritch scoffed. “You managed to jump high enough to tear your tendon and you’re still willing to try again?” Now Eldritch’s interest was really peaked. His aide was clearly injured, and by all accounts should be on the ground writhing in pain. Yet, all the man was doing was waiting for another order, even if it meant greater pain.

  “Of course, I will try again, sir,” his aide answered simply.

  “That’s insane. Completely insane,” Eldritch smiled, his Em-Pak trying in vain to tamper down his sudden bursts of self-satisfaction. “You’re telling me that no matter how ridiculous the command is, and that no matter what the consequences are, you’ll follow it?”

  “No request should be viewed as such, sir,” the aide replied. “What command could be seen as so ridiculous that it shouldn’t be followed, Mr. Eldritch?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Eldritch thought. “Ram your head through the wall? Something like that.” Before Eldritch could stop his aide, the man broke into a sprint across the large room, gaining more and more speed with each step. A sickening snap–crunch echoed through the room.

  Eldritch walked across his office, his eyes wide with amazement. Had his aide really just killed himself trying to run his head through a concrete wall? Was the new program really that effective? The toe of his shoe nudged the crumpled pile that had once been his aide. The man remained still. Eldritch’s Em-Pak could barely keep the smile from stretching across his face.

  Grabbing his phone from his pocket, Eldritch quickly punched the keys to call Captain Ortiz. “Ortiz?” Eldritch snapped. “I need you and fifty of your most trusted, most dedicated soldiers at my office in twenty.”

  “Understood, sir,” Ortiz’s voice chimed through the phone. “Is this another Emo excursion to be undertaken, Mr. Eldritch, sir? Anything I need to prepare the men for, sir? Will there be anything else?”

  “No on both accounts, Captain,” Eldritch lied. “Just bring the men. That is all.” But there would be something else, something that would truly grant Eldritch the power he sought. There would be so much more to follow if his next round of experiments proved fruitful.

  Eldritch returned to his computer and switched off the citywide feed of the ERC recording. There would no longer be a need to remind the citizens who they served.

  -34-

  “Xander, get out here!” Cora’s voice barked from outside the tent. She really was so bossy. Was this what big sisters were like without an Em-Pak to correct their irrational behavior, Xander mused, as he toyed with the small radio transmitter. The battery life was limited, but it was still worth the juice to flick the switch and see the lights blink to life. Each small flashing green LED light was a beacon, a lighthouse, guiding Xander back to safe port, back to the Stele, back to his father. The few remaining red lights on the radio signaled that he needed to find an area free of those troublesome trees where the broadcast would be stronger. Xander tucked the radio back into his sock and straightened the wrinkles in his pant leg just as Cora burst into the tent.

  “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” she snapped.

  “Hear you?” Xander asked flatly. “Yes, I heard you. I’m sure everyone heard that shrill banshee shriek of a voice. I just didn’t care.”

  Cora flushed red and she had to take a few deep breaths before continuing. Xander was awful. There really was no away around. Remmy had told her that other kids complained about their siblings, especially younger ones, but she suspected that Xander was easily the worst in the history of siblings.

  “Get outside, you brat,” Cora pulled aside the flaps with one hand and angrily pointed with the other. “We’re leaving.”

  “Leaving?” Xander asked. Cora couldn’t help but notice the ping of her brother’s Em-Pak.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” Cora added, “it’s not what you think.”

  “I don’t care where it is,” Xander answered. “Leaving is good enough.”

  “We’re going to get Remmy,” Cora continued.

  “Oh,” Xander mumbled as he slunk out of the tent. “Wonderful.” His eyes bore into the man standing next to his sister.

  Cora almost immediately heard Xander’s Em-Pak going into overdrive. She smiled, a sense of satisfaction at having thrown off Xander’s attempts to be so nonplussed and cold. Maybe there was still hope for her brother?

  “What kind of nasty Emo trick is this?” Xander demanded. His Em-Pak chirped furiously as his fingers balled into fists and then relaxed after each mechanical chime. “Who are you? This is impossible! It’s a trick! A disgusting Emo trick!” Xander turned to storm back into the tent, but Cora blocked his escape.

  “You need to hear what he has to say, Xander,” Cora said. “Please just listen to him. He really is our grandfather and that really is Samuel Eldritch.”

  Tears momentarily formed in the corners of Xander’s eyes and then vanished just as suddenly with one beep of his Em-Pak.

  “Fine,” Xander growled and turned to face the man who looked like his grandfather, claimed to be his grandfather, but surely was an imposter.

  “Xander,” Samuel said slowly, “Cora is telling you the truth. We hid it from you because we didn’t know how you’d react, but time has forced our hand. Cora and I are going to try to save Remmy and for your own safety, you’re coming too.”

  “My own safety?” Xander scoffed. “I’m safer here where only the Emos want to kill me. Why would I risk my life for that worthless Emo, whatever his name?”

  Cora’s hand moved under its own volition, as if directed by some unseen force. Xander’s head snapped violently to the side as Cora’s hand made contact with his cheek. A bright red outline glowed, as if highlighting the attack.

  Xander looked momentarily shocked, but a flat expression soon returned to his face. “As I was saying,” Xander continued, “why would I risk myself for him?”

  “Because he did it for you!” Cora snapped. “Or have you forgotten that Remmy was the one that pulled you from the wrecked limo? He could have just as easily left you there to be killed by the Reds.”

  “He should have,” Xander shrugged. “It’s what I would have done if the roles were reversed.”

  “Enough, Xander,” Samuel said, his voice strong, but not angry. Samuel knew that even with his Em-Pak in place, Xander was dealing with an overwhelming situation and couldn’t help but feel sad for his grandson. “You’re right that it’s not safe for you out there, but it’s not safe for you here either. You’re coming with us. It’s not open for discussion.”

  “You think just because you look like my grandfather that you can tell me what to do, old man?” Xander sneered. “Please, next I’ll be taking orders from Cora.”

  “See,” Cora grumbled, “I told you it wasn’t worth it. We should just leave him here and whatever happens is his own stupid fault!”

  Xander opened his mouth to continue to protest, but the pressing of the radio transmitter against his leg silenced his words. Going with them was exactly what he needed to do. Let them lead him away
from the camp to somewhere he could trigger the radio signal and contact the ERC.

  “Fine,” Xander seethed, playing up his disapproval. “But how do I really know that you’re Samuel Eldritch? How can I trust you?” Xander really cared little for the answer. If this man was his grandfather, at least genetically, he was nothing like the man he had idolized, more importantly, nothing like his father.

  Samuel told Xander the abbreviated version of his story, quickly bringing the boy up to speed with Cora and leaving out the bit about hacking into ERC satellites. “You’ve got to understand, Xander that the Em-Paks were never meant to be a permanent fix,” Samuel concluded. “But you’ve got a choice. You didn’t have the choice to have the Em-Pak implanted, but you do have a choice whether or not you keep it. Cora and I cannot and will not make that decision for you.”

  “Oh, here we go,” Xander rolled his eyes. “I was waiting for this to come full circle. Waiting for you to try and play my heart strings.”

  “What heart?” Cora laughed. “No one is trying to make you do anything, you little monster.” She wanted to love Xander, and feel close to him, but he made it nearly impossible.

  “Cora, that’s enough,” Samuel said.

  “Don’t,” Cora warned him. “You’re our grandfather and I like you, I do, but don’t try to parent me.”

  “Fair enough,” Samuel conceded, “I’ve been little more than a shadow in your lives and you’re right, I shouldn’t try to parent you, but we’re wasting time. We need to get moving.” Samuel flipped up the screen of a small computer strapped to his wrist. It was hardly bigger than a large wristwatch, but he had programmed all of his data into it. “They’re on the move, Cora. We need to go if we’re going to stay ahead of them.”

  “On the move? Who?” Xander demanded.

  “The Reds,” Cora answered.

  “All the groups are moving towards each other,” Samuel added. “They seem to be meeting up for some reason, so we need to go now if there’s any hope of saving Remmy.”

  Xander could have cared less about saving Remmy; he was just another outlaw, another misguided, filthy Emo terrorist. But getting away from the camp and to a place where he could activate the radio was something that Xander cared about with every fiber of his being. He was willing to do anything if it held even the slightest promise of his rescue and return to the city, his father, and the way life should be.

  “This just keeps getting better and better,” Xander spat acerbically. “I can’t believe that I’m going to help you save a filthy Emo, but what choice do I really have? Let’s just get going before you tell me anything else.”

  Xander’s Em-Pak beeped. Cora and Samuel wrote it off as nervousness, nothing more than fear. It was easy enough to believe that Xander would be worried about what lay before them, because Cora was. Had they known that his Em-Pak was battling feelings of joy and excitement, they may have reconsidered their decision to take Xander with them.

  -35-

  The shouts of the Reds on the tops of the buses fell silent. A large metal box sat at the far end of the arena. Remmy had no idea what was inside, held back by the rusted sheet metal door, but it couldn’t be good.

  “Hey, food!” one of the Reds shouted, “Better grab a weapon quick!” All the other Reds began laughing hysterically, even Jessica.

  The large Red that Remmy had injured, Tam, stood atop the box, a shark-like smile craved into his face. His nose hooked to the left at a painful angle. Remmy took some small bit of solace knowing that he had done that.

  Tam raised his hand and the crowd once again fell silent. “We’ll start out easy. See if this boy really has the salt to become one of us.” He reached down and pulled up the sheet of metal closing the front of the box.

  Three small children scuttled out of the box. The children couldn’t have been older than five or six years old. They were covered with mud and squinted as if even the pale moonlight hurt their eyes. Remmy figured that the Reds must have captured the children for this purpose, to make someone do something so horrible to survive that they couldn’t help but become angry, and allow the infection in. Remmy felt a burst of disgust and anger in his gut. He wasn’t going to do it. He would refuse, even if it meant death. He fought to control the anger, and remember that the Reds wanted him to lose control.

  “I’m not going to kill children!” Remmy screamed, looking at the Reds on the edges of the arena. “Just kill me, because I won’t do it.”

  “We won’t have to kill you,” Tam grinned, his yellowed teeth catching the light and glistening wickedly.

  The three children crouched on all fours, rubbing their eyes, but appeared to be acclimating to the arena and the light. The children hopped forward, a strange look etched into their young faces.

  Remmy scanned the perimeter of the arena and saw Jessica behind him. She was sitting next to a lithe woman covered in red paint. The woman had the predatory smile of a jungle cat and the look of a conquering hero. Remmy figured that she must be Hatch, the leader of the Reds. A thin, curved sword hung from Hatch’s belt, dark stains speckled the leather braided around the handle, stains that could only be one thing.

  Jessica motioned towards the length of wood that lay at Remmy’s feet, urging him to pick it up. Remmy shook his head. There was no way he was going to bludgeon three children to survive. Death was a better choice.

  “No,” Remmy said firmly, staring at what had once been his friend. Hatch laughed and pointed, whispering something into Jessica’s ear that made her laugh as well.

  Remmy thought they were pointing at him, mocking his refusal to commit such atrocious acts, but as he glared at the two, he realized that they were pointing behind him, pointing towards the children. A chill crept across Remmy’s spine. He had heard people use the expression of feeling like someone had stepped over their grave, but had never felt it himself. He did now.

  Forcing himself to turn back towards the box, towards Tam and the three children, Remmy saw that the children had broken into a loping sprint, still on all fours, but were quickly closing the distance.

  The lead child, a young boy, let out a high-pitched howl and that was when Remmy saw his teeth, both rows of them set in blood red gums like tiny bone daggers.

  Remmy snatched the club from the ground with trembling hands, widened his stance and prepared to face the three Red children that bore down upon him like a pack of rabid wolves.

  The Reds erupted into screams and laughs, as bets and predictions were made on the sides of the arena.

  -36-

  Captain Ortiz and his men stood shoulder to shoulder. A perfect line, all silent and expressionless, even their breathing was barely perceptible. Eldritch momentarily found himself wondering if he would actually have to give the men the command to breathe.

  Moments before, screams filled the room as Ortiz and his soldiers writhed on the floor, grasping at the invisible force that assailed their heads. Eldritch had dialed back the frequency’s strength from what he had used on his aide, ever so slightly, but kept it strong enough to ensure subservience.

  What stood before Eldritch was a contingent of the ERC’s most highly trained soldiers, who were now conveniently one hundred percent loyal to him. Concerns regarding Ortiz’s own motivations and possible betrayal vanished with the clicks of a few keys. Eldritch couldn’t help but marvel at the genius of his father’s invention, but sneered at his short sightedness. How had he failed so miserably at attaining power and bringing the masses in line? The answer had been right in front of him the entire time. Was it a lack of vision or even worse, fear that kept his father from realizing the true potential of the Em-Pak? Either was inexcusable as far as Eldritch was concerned.

  “Sir?” Captain Ortiz asked, shaking Eldritch from his thoughts.

  “Yes? What is it, Captain?” Eldritch grumbled. Maybe he should increase Ortiz’s signal. Thoughts of his aide’s concave skull quickly dispersed such inklings.

  “What are your orders, Mr. Eldritch, sir?” Ortiz
asked, not from a sense of impatience, but rather from a newly seeded desire to serve without question.

  “Ah, yes,” Eldritch grinned. His Em-Pak chirped loudly. “Plans? Hmm, well, Captain, I think it’s time we became a bit more proactive in our approach.”

  “Proactive, sir?” Ortiz asked. “Would you like us to continue the counterfeit Emo terrorist attacks? Maybe increase their frequency?” Eldritch smiled ever so slightly. It was good that Ortiz was asking questions. That meant that he still retained some of his ability to think, and be an effective captain, but not enough to lead to any problems.

  “No, Captain,” Eldritch shook his head. “I don’t think there will be any need to continue those activities. The citizens have been made fully aware of the threat posed by the Reds and Emos. What little resistance to my leadership there was has been neutralized and my power is now absolute. What we need to do now is give the citizens something to do, something to aim them at if you will.”

  “Such as, sir?” Ortiz questioned.

  “Such as the eradication of all threats,” Eldritch explained. “The citizens have enjoyed safety and that has made them soft. It’s time they began to give back to those who have protected them. I think it’s time for a draft.”

  “A draft, sir?” Ortiz responded. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Eldritch, but at this time, there are more than sufficient ranks within the ERC troops. Why institute a draft, sir?”

  Eldritch thought for a moment, pretending that he had to consider his plan, even though there was really no need to. He could tell Ortiz and his men that his plan was to dress in bunny costumes and throw marshmallows at schoolchildren and compliance would be assured. Perhaps this was simply a habit left from a time where emotions and motives mattered.

  “The citizens need to feel that they play a role,” Eldritch finally answered. “They need to feel that they have a hand in shaping their future. More importantly, they need to feel that they have something to lose. I need to ensure that I have the absolute support of the next generation, so what better way to do so than to bolster our ranks and wage a war against the Emos and Reds? It’s due time that we took the fight outside our city walls, and that we take it to them.”

 

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