by T. K. Malone
He’d wandered up to the promontory and taken one last look at the devastation of Black City. It had been entire, complete, the place empty. The sheer nothingness of it all staggered him. Even Sable had briefly stirred from her reclusive state within him, and he’d felt her utter revulsion.
Connor noticed Molly and Kenny staring at him. “What do you think they’ll be like?” he blurted out. “The preppers—I keep seeing cowboys in my head.”
Kenny grunted. “Not a clue. All log cabins and rattlesnakes is my guess. I’m expecting a rough reception, though.”
“Why?”
“Obvious, isn’t it? We’re traveling with a band of smugglers—no offence to your brother, of course—and mercs who are armed to the teeth. Let’s just say that we actually do get in and they separate us and question us. What the hell are we going to say? Underground compound? An army fighting another army? An escape route packed with explosives? Are we going to tell them we’re traveling with the same folk we killed two of, and they killed one of ours? Sounds a bit far-fetched if you ask me.”
Molly shoved him. “You always see the bad side of things. How about that we all survived, and now we need sanctuary?”
Kenny scoffed. “Makes it worse; now we’re needy.”
“No,” Connor said. “We’re troops, and we’ve got to learn to fight—to be like Sticks.”
“Not sure I’m cut out for that,” Kenny muttered.
“Then you won’t survive,” Connor told him and shifted around, staring into nothingness, trying to clear his mind.
Kenny and Molly had carried on talking for a while, until they too had fallen silent. The sudden realization that they were out of their depth, the only gridders in a group of farmers, mercs and smugglers, appeared to weigh heavily on all three of them. As the miles slowly passed, the folk packed into the back of the truck became more and more restless, but it was late afternoon before they finally ground to a halt and took a break. Connor almost scrambled out of the back of the truck, his need for air and open space suddenly grown urgent.
The rocky terrain looked scruffy, and flatter than Connor had expected. A gray and rust-colored sheer rockface rose to one side, the ground sloping steeply away down the other, down to the ever-present river.
“That there’s Teah’s mine,” said the man Connor knew as Saggers, and he was pointing across at what looked like a cave entrance in the rockface. “This is where it all started for her.”
“All started?” Connor asked.
“Sure. Say, while we’re stoppin’ an’ all, you want me to fill in a couple of blanks—tell you about her?”
He walked toward a rocky outcrop at the side of the road and above the river. “Somewhere around here...” And he pointed a short way down the slope. “Not exactly sure where, somewhere near this mine, there was a hut. That’s where little Clay was born.”
“Up here? Alone?”
Saggers shook his head. “Nah, not all alone. Don’t get me wrong, she loved being alone, just her and the boy. But no, she weren’t alone when she gave birth to Zac. She was with a great man; a man called Lester.”
“Lester Avery Savage.”
“You know him?” Saggers sat on a jut of rock.
“Nope.” Connor sat next to him. “Never heard of him, not until this morning. Now, that’s a mighty fine coincidence.” He fiddled in his pocket and pulled out a couple of smokes. “You want one?”
“They mine?”
“Seems like they all are.”
Saggers grunted. “Gonna have to get cropping again if this valley keeps filling up.”
“Guess I need a job.”
Saggers looked over at the folk milling around the trucks. “You and a few more. Little Clay was getting the hang of it…until…”
“Did you see the nukes?”
“Yep, saw them sweeping up into the sky. Odd, really.”
“Odd; how so?”
Saggers lit his smoke and scratched his head before taking a long draw. “In a funny way, they were quite beautiful.” He slumped down, elbows on his knees, and cradled his chin in his palm. “Like I said: odd.”
“Slept through it.”
“Eh?”
“I was drugged—woke up in the compound and didn’t know if it was true or not, if it had even happened.”
“Man, that’s fucked up.” Saggers looked around. “And this ain’t much better.”
“Teah survived.”
“That she did, Connor; that she did. Lester taught her how to.”
“Maybe she’ll teach me.”
“Maybe—” But then Saggers’ gaze drifted to the sky and his smoke fell from his mouth. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, and jumped up.
Connor looked up himself, not quite understanding what he was seeing at first. It looked like a line of black flying toward them, but then Saggers soon cleared up his confusion. “Drones!” he shouted at the top of his voice and bolted toward Clay and Hannah. As Connor followed him, he saw the mercs scramble for cover as Zac sprinted to the cab of their truck, where he grabbed his gun. Then Loser started shooting.
Sable stirred in his mind, clearly calculating odds and distances. He knew the drones would start firing soon and they’d all be caught out in the open. The line broadened into a cloud of death flying toward them, by which time Loser had begun to find his range, some of the black drones blooming to flowers of orange before crashing to the ground.
Connor ran, searching out Zac, but then one of their trucks burst into flames, bodies flying everywhere as Connor was thrown to the ground. There, he felt his blood flood with energy, a rush of adrenaline pushing him straight back to his feet. “Zac!” he shouted as gunfire cracked through the valley. The screams of the injured and dying, the barks of confused orders, all mixed with swirling smoke, only muddled and bewildered him, but somehow, he came to slide down into cover beside Zac. They were crouching low by a line of bikes, Zac firing up at the drones, their once neat line now a mass of swooping and darting black forms, each mercilessly picking out their targets.
“The mine,” Connor shouted. “It’s our only hope.” He pointed. Zac nodded.
“Tell the others,” he barked, letting off another burst of fire.
Connor looked around, catching glimpses of folk through the bullet-raked smoke, wondering how any of them were still alive. Forcing himself up, he ran to the nearest truck, shouting at the top of his voice at those who’d taken futile refuge beneath it. He screamed at them to move and pointed up at the mine’s entrance. At first, they just looked confused, but then caught on and made a run for it.
He felt his collar grabbed and spun around, Saggers right in his face.
“Not the mine,” the man screamed. “It’s certain death.”
“So’s this,” Connor shouted back.
Saggers hesitated, then nodded. “You go. Take Clay and Hannah.” And he pointed. Connor swept up Kenny and Molly on his way to join them, his eyes streaming, the smoke blacker, and yet, thicker still. There seemed to be less firing going on, as though the drones were unable to pinpoint their targets through it, but then blood dripped into his eyes from a gash on his forehead. He was cuffing it dry when he reached Hannah and Clay and pointed to the mine.
Hannah shook her head. “No,” she screamed, “it’s cursed.”
“It’s our only hope,” he screamed back, but Hannah only backed away.
“It killed Jenny and Lester,” she wailed as machine gun fire started up again.
“What? No, no it didn’t. Trust me.” Connor grabbed her by her shoulders. Hannah stared at him for a moment, then glanced down at Clay before nodding, and together they bolted for the mine entrance.
On their way, Connor spotted Saggers rounding up others, and beyond him Zac and his gang retreating the same way. But then a break in the smoke left them open to the drones, and he knew another deadly onslaught would soon be upon them.
As he hurried Hannah and Clay, he spotted Kenny and Molly off to one side, she stooped over the big man, wh
ere they were crouched in the cover of a rocky outcrop. Molly seemed to be trying to force Kenny to his feet. Connor pushed Hannah and Clay ahead and darted off toward them, soon grabbing Kenny by the arm to pull him up, but the man screamed in pain.
“Ignore him, it’s healed,” Sable suddenly said, as though she’d woken solely to chide Kenny, and Connor instinctively dropped him back down.
“Aargh,” Kenny screamed, and tried to scramble closer in to the rocks.
“Molly,” Connor barked, “run for the mine. I’ll take care of him.”
“No,” she screamed over the cacophony again erupting around them.
Grabbing Kenny once more, Connor tugged him away from the rocks, at which Kenny looked up, his pale face etched with fear until a grim look seeped across it and he got up and bolted. Zac and his men were already backing into the mine, the rat-tat-tat of their guns spewing fire into the air, Saggers backing in between them as he, too, fired frantic bursts at the drones.
“You’ve done all you can,” Sable told Connor, and so he ran for the mine head, soon sucked into the bikers’ retreat as they all backed into the mine, just as the drones let off another volley. As he tumbled into the darkness, he stumbled over something soft, yet sharp, a rancid stench filling the darkness and comparative quiet.
“Corpse! It’s a fucking corpse,” Kenny’s stuttering voice rang out, and Connor realized that everyone had backed farther into the mine. He scrambled to his feet, retching in disgust, and ventured deeper into the shaft himself, where someone switched on a flashlight. Then the true horror of what lay there hit him: most but not all of a man’s body. It looked as though it had been scavenged, the remains alive with maggots and insects, a soup-like puddle now congealed in the dry earth all around it.
“I said it was cursed,” Hannah whispered.
“Ain’t no curse,” Saggers said. “Bullet to the forehead done fer him, and if I ain’t too much mistaken, that there’s Ned…or was.”
Connor backed up farther as Zac’s men stepped around the corpse, the biker next to Billy Flynn starting to laugh as he prodded him.
“Noodle,” Billy said. “I swear I’ll…”
Zac ordered them to drag the body out before pulling up his collar and burying his nose in it. “Or cover it with something. And stop fucking around, Noodle. We’re already in shit up to our eyeballs.”
The mercs were the last to tumble in, Connor recognizing their leader, Renshaw; he looked exhausted. “Whose bright idea was this?” he growled. “We’re trapped now.” But then he looked down and retched. “Get that out of here.” His soldiers were soon to the task, pushing the milling bikers out of the way as they dragged the body away.
Renshaw unslung his rucksack and pulled out a lantern, which he then lit before slumping against the wall of the mine. “What a clusterfuck. You sure pissed them off. How many we lose?”
“A few when the truck blew; quite a few more who were just arriving. We were lucky the smoke quickly hid us,” Zac said. “Fuck.” And he banged the wall with his fist. “Bastard drones—should have second-guessed they'd have a load, but I didn’t see none getting transported with the convoy. You, Loser?”
“No, boss.”
“Well, they’re here,” Renshaw growled.
“Seems your men did all right, though,” Zac growled, now facing the soldier.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Zac stepped up to him. “Like it appeared they weren’t interested in any of your hides.”
Renshaw pushed himself to his feet, squaring up to Zac. “Are you saying—”
“I’m saying I lost quite a few men out there, and you lost none. I’m saying the army convoy we saw weren’t carrying drones, and I’m saying that your army is just over the next ridge, allegiance unknown.”
Renshaw took a step closer to Zac and leaned in, until they were nose to nose. “And I’m saying that your men are ill-disciplined and mine were faster to react; keeping a watch—”
“And they never spotted—”
“No, that came in real fast.”
Zac shuffled his feet. “You never answered.”
“What?”
“Where your allegiance lies.”
Renshaw smiled through tight lips. “Certainly not with a bunch of drug runners.”
Silence fell briefly, until Byron Tuttle started to clap. “Well, well, well,” he said, “all that testosterone being flung around has certainly softened the revolting smell in this cave, but I can’t help but think it a little…surplus to our requirements? Would that be right?”
He was just stepping forward when a huge explosion rang out, a blast of air roaring down the shaft and the lantern briefly flickering before those standing were knocked off their feet, Renshaw pulling Zac with him, then everything fell into blackness.
4
Teah’s Story
Strike time: plus 10 days
Location: Kelly’s Cabin
Teah pulled Kelly’s long shirt on. They were back in Morton Valley, though they’d only just made the trappers’ cabins. The trek from the other side of the Sendro Verde ridge had consumed the day and the afternoon had now drifted toward dusk. For the most part, the group had been silent. The day had been fairly clear, but clouds of a different kind now hung heavy over them.
Even Cornelius had been quiet, his endless defence of past acts seeming to have run its course. For some reason, Teah’s eyes had invariably strayed to him throughout their journey. It was as though he’d entranced her, as though he had a magnetic charisma. That partly worried her. If, as Cornelius had urged, she was to lead the resistance to The Free World army, then surely she would need that magnetism? Or was she merely expected to be a figurehead?
That, however, didn’t quite ring true, either. Everyone—Lester, Jenny, Jake, Charm, and the others—had risked everything to get her to this place, so how could she really be nothing more than a token? And Lester and Jenny had given their lives to save Connor—to save her—Jake had muttered as such. For Teah, that closed a few avenues of coincidence, answered a few questions, but it did raise one all-important one.
“You sure you wanna stick here with me tonight?” Kelly asked, pouring two whiskeys and offering Teah a seat by the hearth. “Can’t promise you any amazin’ revelations, but I can tell you what’s what from what I know. Shoot, I want you to stick here; you gotta busy few days coming up. Might well be the last time you get to kick back.”
Teah chose Kelly’s rocking chair, pulling it closer to the fire. It had become cold enough that its warmth was welcome. Kelly pulled the other chair in.
“My head’s mashed,” Teah said. “All that talk about AI, about… Well, all of it. When did the world become so…so complicated?”
Kelly smiled. “Hell, it’s always been complicated, darlin’. You’ve just been lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“Hell, yeah,” Kelly affirmed. “You left the city, found Lester, he taught you everything you needed to know, and so you survived. It was that simple, wasn’t it?”
Teah tensed; she knew a bait-laden hook had been dangled in front of her. “How did you know?”
“Know?” Kelly’s grin widened. She let her finger circle the top of her whiskey mug. “What’s to know? That’s the story, isn’t it? Or are you remembering what really happened?”
“Last night…and the night before…I’ve had these dreams.”
“Wanna share? Get another perspective?”
Teah let out a long sigh. “I’m not sure what it all means.”
“Honey, sometimes I have trouble makin’ sense of my own life, and all I do it trap, skin, hang, cook, eat, then repeat. The Lord only knows how those men have fucked your head up. So, shoot; we got the night.”
“But…there was a question I wanted to ask you, about the mine, about Lester and Jenny.”
“The cursed mine? Everyone knows that story—some even believe it, some don’t. Trouble with a cursed mine, it’s usually cursed for a reason, but that
reason’s rarely got anything to do with the curse—that make any sense?”
“None…some; I dunno.” Teah raked her fingers through her hair.
“Looks even better now the roots are showing through; I’m guessing black.”
“My hair? Yeah, black. Kinda liked it white. Been a couple of weeks. Jenny done it.”
“Must’a been one of the last things she done,” Kelly muttered. “She nearly made it—to the apocalypse. Would have been better if she had.”
“Why?”
“Because, unless I completely misinterpreted Jake’s revelations last night, that was what they were planning for. So, at least she’d have known it wasn’t all fer nothing.”
“I suppose.” Teah reached into her pockets for a smoke. She threw the pack at Kelly. “Runnin’ low. Shouldn’t have let Briscoe take ‘em.”
“Smokes? We’ll never run out of them. Folk grow the weed afore they grow corn up here. So, the mine, that cursed thing, it’s just an old country trick. Call something cursed, and folk steer clear of it. Arrange to have a few folk turn up dead near it? All the better. Lester’s debilitating state was just the ruse—Jenny’s too. The story they concocted was a bit half baked, though, but it held up with Jake’s help.”
“So, what’s in it?”
“The mine? Not a clue.”
Teah let out a gasp of exasperation. “You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what’s in it, but I know what’s not. That mine dates back some years, I’ll tell you. One of the few that they dug and dug. Minerals, gold ‘n that weren’t too plentiful in this valley. Over the next, more so. But I heard tell that they struck something.”
“So, it’s a deep mine with nothin’ in it. No nuclear waste like Saggers said. No lingering disease like Lester and Jenny said. Just no nothin’.”