“So what?” Remmy replied. “Like I care about some Red power play. It doesn’t matter who’s the king of your dirty little ant hill, I’m dead either way.”
“Not necessarily,” Jessica grinned, her teeth too large for her mouth. “Hatch wants Tam gone. You do that and you’re free.”
“Free to be a Red you mean?” Remmy scoffed. “Hatch said it herself that I had better be a Red by the end of the fight if I wanted to live.”
“Free is free,” Jessica replied. “Hatch will keep her word. If you kill Tam, his spot is yours.”
“As long as I’m infected,” Remmy growled.
“Infected, evolved, whatever. Who cares?” Jessica said. “However you look at it, at least you’re alive. Dead and self-righteous is still dead.”
“Why the hell do you even care?” Remmy demanded. “And don’t feed me any of that crap about being my friend. You and I both know that’s a total load. What are you getting out of this?”
The smile faded from Jessica’s face, her lips struggling to conceal her pointed teeth. She sat back and crossed her legs, her eyes level with Remmy’s own. “The truth?”
“That would be nice,” Remmy said, a fake smile wrinkling his face.
“The truth is that I hate Tam,” Jessica answered.
“I’m sure a lot people feel that way,” Remmy replied. “Please, I’m sure a lot Reds probably feel that way.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said softly, “but none of them are promised to Tam.”
“Promised?” Remmy asked. “You mean for like marriage or something?”
“Every king needs a queen I guess,” Jessica grunted. “He won me, so I’m his unless someone else takes his place.”
“So whoever is second in command owns you?” Remmy asked. “Can’t Hatch do anything? Why can’t she just kill him?”
“No she can’t do anything,” Jessica sighed. “Hatch doesn’t like it anymore than I do, but if she challenges Tam and kills him, then the rules say she took his place, which means no one is left to lead. It would create chaos, everyone struggling to take control. The rules say Hatch can’t step down, only be taken down and replaced. The leader of the Reds is never allowed to retire, only die. Tam is dumb, but even he’s not stupid enough to challenge Hatch in the arena.”
“Those rules are stupid,” Remmy added. “She’s the leader. She can do what she wants.”
“Not really,” Jessica replied. “Sure, being the leader has its benefits, but it’s a shaky throne that Hatch sits on. She always has to worry about someone trying to kill her. Worry about the rules.”
“Enough with these stupid freaking rules!” Remmy shouted. “Why are they so important? No offense, but I really don’t see much going on around here that needs rules.”
“That’s exactly the point,” Jessica answered. “You don’t see things going on around here. The rules are what keep us from destroying each other. If there were no rules the Reds would turn on each other. Hatch and her rules are the only thing that keep our people safe.”
“Your people?” Remmy snorted. “Your people were back in the camp, Jessica, not here. You’re not a person.”
“So kind of you to notice,” Jessica said sarcastically. “Save your judgments, Remmy. The Reds are my people now. None of us asked for what we’ve become, so how can we be condemned for it? We’re only doing what every other person is trying to do – survive. Why is that so wrong?”
“It’s not,” Remmy replied. “But how you survive is. Kidnapping people, forcing them to become Reds or eating them if they don’t. It’s disgusting.”
“You think I want to eat people?” Jessica asked. “You think that was something I thought about before I changed?”
“How the hell should I know?” Remmy answered, but a note of sadness in Jessica’s voice pierced Remmy’s heart. Jessica had been exactly where he was, had been given the exact same odds. She hadn’t asked for any of this. “I’m sorry. I guess not.”
“Of course not,” Jessica continued, “but what are we supposed to do? That is what my body demands. We eat other things, but if we don’t at least eat some people then we begin to break down, turn back into screaming monsters.”
“So eating people is what keeps you from turning back?” Remmy asked.
“Exactly,” Jessica smiled. “Isn’t it better that we eat a few instead of being some mindless monster that kills without reason or thought? It’s nature, Remmy. We don’t want to kill all people, just enough to survive.”
“Sure,” Remmy snapped. “Don’t want to mess up the food supply.”
“You know, I don’t remember you being so whiny,” Jessica teased, clacking her teeth together. “I’m getting a little sick of your prejudice, Remmy.”
Remmy let out an acerbic laugh. “But you need my help.”
“And you need mine,” Jessica added. “I know how you can beat Tam. He’s tough, but I know something most people don’t.”
“And if I do beat him,” Remmy paused, “then what?”
“You take his place,” Jessica answered, “assuming you’ve changed.”
“But you said whoever takes his place owns you,” Remmy continued. “That would mean that –”
“That we’d be together,” Jessica said, finishing Remmy’s sentence. “I’d much rather be promised to you instead of Tam.” Jessica paused and then added, “Even if you are whiny.”
“Fine,” Remmy relented. “Tell me what to do.” He listened intently as Jessica filled in the gaps in the plan. Remmy had a chance to beat Tam, albeit an extremely thin one, but it was better than nothing. As Jessica got up to leave, Remmy suddenly found himself not only worrying about the fight, but also what would happen after.
-42-
The Emo camps fell beneath the heavy booted feet of the ERC troops. Eldritch watched with as much joy as his Em-Pak allowed as an ERC trooper smashed the butt of his rifle into the face of a fleeing Emo. Another soldier held down a man while a second soldier repeatedly stabbed him in the stomach. The man screamed. Eldritch grinned for a fraction of a second before his Em-Pak chirped loudly. Sometimes, just sometimes, Eldritch mused, he would like to turn his Em-Pak off and enjoy the satisfaction of a job well done. His ERC troops, led by an obedient Captain Ortiz, had left four Emo camps as little more than smoldering piles of ash and bone. These images were exclusively for Eldritch’s enjoyment, sent through a secure line, direct to his computer. The images released to the citizens were far more inflammatory, showing carefully edited scenes of ERC soldiers bravely battling Emo terrorists and monstrous Reds.
The Reds presented a slightly more irksome problem than the Emos. The Reds were moving, never staying in one area and this worried Eldritch and Ortiz. In the past, the Reds appeared to be somewhat territorial. They stayed within certain hunting grounds, but now there was large-scale movement of huge numbers of Reds. Ortiz had speculated that they were regrouping and perhaps joining together for some sort of organized attack, but Eldritch had dismissed the idea as idiotic. The Reds were incapable of coherent thought, let alone planning something of that magnitude.
“Sir?” Ortiz’s voice called through the speakers of Eldritch’s computer. “We’re approaching the signal now, Mr. Eldritch. We should have contact within the minute.”
Eldritch ordered Ortiz and his troops to track down the SOS signal being transmitted by the emergency radio linked to his family’s limo. Of course, that had been after a few successful battles that could be fed to the slavering masses. Eldritch had to think of the people before himself, he was of course, a public servant. Besides, images of a rescue attempt would only serve to undermine the progress he had made enraging the masses. Allowing those flames to be cooled by whatever was at the end of that radio signal was foolish. If his wife or children were still alive, well that was acceptable, and surely could be spun into some sort of support for his cause. Furthermore, whoever had sent that signal had clearly survived this long, so what harm would a few more days do?
“Approac
h with caution, Captain,” Eldritch ordered. He was beaming a live feed of the rescue through all media outlets accessible by citizens. An ERC reporter rode alongside Ortiz’s troops to provide images and commentary.
“We’re closing in, Mr. Eldritch,” Ortiz reported. “There appears to be numerous heat signatures, possibly an Emo camp or group of Reds. Should we begin the live feed?”
“Yes,” Eldritch commanded. “Make sure this goes smoothly, Captain.”
“Understood, sir,” Ortiz answered. “Beginning the feed now.”
Eldritch pressed the button to turn on the large screen that hung on his wall. Dark woods rushed past the windows of Ortiz’s vehicle. The ERC reporter allowed a few more seconds of footage before beginning her commentary.
“We wait with bated breath,” the reporter began, “as we approach the signal being transmitted from the wreck that possibly claimed the lives of Assemblyman Eldritch’s family. Surely, this will be a great moment for Assemblyman Eldritch and for all citizens, really. The brave ERC soldiers, led by Captain Ortiz, will either rescue a stranded member of the Eldritch family or punish those responsible for the attack that claimed their lives. We’re closing in now.”
The camera turned back to film through the windshield of Ortiz’s vehicle. Branches scraped and slapped across the glass, obscuring the view. Suddenly, the woods broke and the vehicle rumbled into a large clearing.
Countless numbers of cows turned to stare at Ortiz’s vehicle with oversized glassy eyes. A few loud moos could be heard over the throaty diesel roar of the vehicle’s engine.
“Cut the feed!” Eldritch screamed. “Cut the feed right now, Captain!”
The last image transmitted was that of Ortiz’s large, black-gloved hand covering the camera lens and pulling it down.
“Damn it! How the hell is that possible! Who is transmitting that signal?” Eldritch shouted at an empty office. His Em-Pak began desperately beeping, trying to control his anger. The entire rescue mission built up for days and fed to the idiotic masses, had been a failure, nothing more than some feral herd of cattle.
“Sir?” Ortiz’s voice, tinny and electronic, rattled from the small computer speakers. “Orders on how to proceed, Mr. Eldritch?”
“Return, Captain,” Eldritch snapped. “But find something to kill on the way back and make it look good, Ortiz. I don’t care how many men you need to order to walk into Emo bullets or Red jaws, just give me something to make the memory of this disaster go away!”
“Understood sir,” Ortiz answered.
-43-
“The Red camp is on the other side of this rise,” Samuel said as he looked at his wrist screen. He, Cora, and Xander had walked most of the night and morning to get to the camp as soon as possible. “We need to wait until dusk before we make our move.”
“Dusk?” Cora questioned, her voice desperate and raw. “How can we wait that long? Remmy might be dead by then.”
“We can’t do anything in the broad daylight, Cora,” Samuel answered. “We’d be seen and killed. Staying hidden is the only way to tip the odds in our favor, even if it’s just a little bit.”
“But, Samuel,” Cora began to protest.
“Waiting for dusk is best,” Samuel said firmly. He paused to look down at the screen strapped to his wrist. Pressing a few buttons, he changed the image. This screen showed white dots moving slowly across the screen, but the background looked completely different. “Excellent,” Samuel grinned. “Yes, dusk will give us the advantage we need.”
“What is that?” Xander demanded. “What’s on that screen?”
“Satellites,” Samuel responded, “ERC military satellites to be exact.”
“What the hell are you going to do with an ERC military satellite?” Xander snapped.
“That you’ll have to wait for dusk to see, my grandson,” Samuel smiled.
“Don’t call me that!” Xander growled. “I may have been related to you at one point, but my grandfather is dead.”
“Suit yourself,” Samuel shrugged, appearing unfazed by Xander’s hurtful words. Samuel knew that Xander was just trying to get a reaction, and start an argument, but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, no matter how painful his words were.
“I’m going to rest over here,” Xander muttered as he walked towards a shady copse of trees. “I’m kind of tired since someone had me walking all night.”
Cora sneered at Xander, but was happy to have him go away for a while.
“Oh, Xander, one thing before you go to have a nap,” Samuel grinned, his eyes bright with playful mischief.
“What?” Xander grunted.
“That radio transmitter in your sock?” Samuel pointed to Xander’s right leg. “Can I have it please?”
Cora felt a sense of deep satisfaction as she watched the color drain from her brother’s face. She had no idea that Xander was carrying a radio, and was terrified to think about what he could have possibly done with it, but was relieved to hear that Samuel had known about it all along.
“What?” Xander gasped. His Em-Pak began beeping, barely a pause in between the tinny chimes. “How? How’d you…I don’t…what? How? How the hell did you know?”
Samuel walked over and snatched the radio out of Xander’s sock before he had a chance to smash it.
“Come now, Xander,” Samuel smiled. “Whether or not you want to acknowledge that I’m your grandfather doesn’t change the fact that I designed the majority of the ERC’s technology, including the emergency radio transmitters in every ERC vehicle. And of course, you being my grandson, I assumed that you would find some opportunity to sneak back and retrieve it from the wreck. After all, you are an Eldritch, my boy.”
“But I activated that…” Xander started say.
“Two days ago,” Samuel cut in, completing his grandson’s thought. “Yes, I was aware of that. The signal showed up on the screen. Tracking ERC signals is one of the best ways to avoid the ERC. Simply, common sense.”
“But the ERC is coming for me,” Xander said weakly. “I’m sure that they are. Father must have sent someone days ago.”
“Oh, that he did,” Samuel grinned, “but they won’t find you. Not when I rerouted the SOS signal through seven different satellites and changed the coordinates. If my calculations are correct, which I’m guessing they were, then your ERC rescue team recovered something more bovine than boy.”
“You bastard,” Xander seethed. His Em-Pak chirped, erasing the look of rage that simmered in his eyes, but he still glared at Samuel. “Where did you send them?”
“To a cattle field,” Samuel grinned. “Knowing your father, my son, I figured that he would make some sort of spectacle out of the rescue, trying to use it for political purposes, so I figured he needed a little bit of humbling.”
“Bastard,” Xander spat. “Now they’ll never find me.”
“On the contrary,” Samuel shook his head. “The ERC will track this signal once again tonight. In fact, it will lead them directly here.”
“What?” Cora gasped. “Samuel, that’s suicide. We can’t call the ERC officers down on ourselves. How is that going to help Remmy?”
“We’re not calling them down on us,” Samuel corrected Cora, “We’re calling them down on the Reds. We’ll be gone with Remmy before then, but I figure that between the ERC and what I plan to do with the satellites, the Reds will have more to worry about than an escaped prisoner.”
Cora couldn’t help but smile. Her grandfather was a genius. Success felt real, and almost possible, thanks to Samuel.
“And Xander,” Samuel added, “if you want to hide here and then reveal yourself to the ERC, you may. The choice is yours, but returning with us means that I will have to remove your Em-Pak. As I said before, I won’t make that choice for you nor will I prevent you from returning to your father if you feel that is the best decision. But please consider your choice carefully, Xander. There is so much good we could accomplish. I can see my spark in you, my grandson. The world has so
much to offer you once your Em-Pak is gone. Please just think about it.”
“Offer me once my Em-Pak is gone?” Xander repeated. “So much, huh? Like pain or death or possibly infection? Are those the things you’re offering me, Samuel? Gee, what a gift to give your grandson. I think I’ll pass.”
“Fine,” Cora snapped. “You made your choice. Now shut up and go take a nap!”
“Xander,” Samuel called as his grandson walked away, “you need to think about what that life offers you. People need to be free to feel and choose as they see fit, even if it puts them at risk. It’s no different than how life was before the virus and still humanity survived. But Em-Paks are wrong, Xander. They rob us of the very things that make us human. Please consider staying with us, your family. The ERC is wrong, always has been. Living with no emotions is not living at all. I won’t allow that to continue. I can’t allow the ERC to continue.”
Samuel’s face was firm and grim, but his eyes were sad. His words were not meant as a threat, rather a plea for his grandson to choose a different life, a full one. Nevertheless, Samuel would never force this upon Xander. He had already seen what forcing decisions upon people led to and that mistake was one that he never wanted to make again.
“I know who my family is,” Xander snapped as he disappeared into the inky shadows beneath the trees.
“I’m sorry, Samuel,” Cora said softly, her hand on her grandfather’s shoulder.
“Me too, Cora. Me too,” Samuel whispered as tears welled in the corners of his eyes. “But he has to choose for himself. Xander has to be free to decide his own fate, even if it is the wrong one.”
-44-
“Be silent!” Hatch bellowed from atop one of the rusted hulking school buses. She was smaller than many of the other Reds, especially the men, but radiated an unspoken threat of violence that couldn’t be matched by the others. Jessica told Remmy that Hatch was one of the first Reds to make it through the first phase of infection and that while she looked thin; Hatch was a vicious fighter who had built her kingdom upon the bones and blood of her enemies.
Love Bug Page 15