Death Stranding--Death Stranding

by Hitori Nojima

  “They’re moving your son to a new facility tomorrow. You’ll never see him again. He’ll serve as the foundation of a new communications network—a sacrifice for a nation that no longer exists,” John hurriedly explained.

  Cliff’s face clouded over. It wasn’t surprising. This was the first he’d heard about it.

  “This child’s special. Your baby is going to become a Bridge Baby for all of America.”

  John began to divulge all he knew about the BB experiments.

  “It was a few months after the initial Death Stranding explosions. Some private hospital was doing a C-section. It was an unusual case. At seven months along the kid’s mother had become brain-dead. They put her on life support for the baby’s sake, but her blood pressure began to drop and the kid showed signs of bradycardia, so they had to perform an emergency Cesarean. The procedure went well and the plan was for the baby to be cared for in the NICU for a while. It was during the final stages of the operation when the voidout hit. The records show one of the doctors screaming ‘I can see them!’ At the time, medical procedures were broadcast on closed networks for medical interns. When the footage was analyzed, we realized the doctor shouted that at the exact moment he touched the umbilical cord to separate mother and child. That’s when the voidout hit and the hospital became a crater. We didn’t understand what it meant at the beginning, but as we researched the Death Stranding, we began to believe that the ‘they’ the doctor was referring to was the BTs. We began to think that maybe if we could find another mother and child, and use the umbilical cord that connected them to try to recreate the same conditions, we might be able to sense BTs and that might help us to finally understand the whole Death Stranding phenomenon. The president at the time went ahead with the project and experiments and testing commenced.

  “It started back when we were still in the army. It was kept top secret. Anyone who wasn’t directly involved didn’t even know the project existed. At first, the experiments were performed in a government facility in Manhattan, but the documents and records from that time were so strictly controlled that even I’m not sure what really happened. What I do know is that the experiments ended in failure. In fact, the entirety of Manhattan Island was wiped clean off the map. It was a complete catastrophe. The president who oversaw the experiments was swept up in it all and killed, too. Then came Vice President Bridget Strand. She was next in line for the job, so she assumed the presidency. She ordered all the experiments to be canceled and the data to be destroyed. She was a strong leader and wanted to prioritize the quelling of all the chaos and social unrest left behind in the wake of the disaster. The official explanation was that something unexpected had made a brain-dead patient necrotize. The BB experiments remained a secret. That was why you ended up bringing your partner here.”

  John took a deep breath. His throat was awfully dry, but Cliff’s expression compelled him to keep speaking.

  “But the BB experiments weren’t abandoned. Even though Bridget ordered them to be canceled, she took command. They continued, with even fewer people involved than before. Your baby was the subject of their experiments. At first, the president believed that we would be able to visualize BTs by using BBs, since one of the most dangerous aspects of the BTs is that they’re invisible. Not being able to see them only made people more anxious and afraid. If we could see them, then the idea was that we could eliminate some of that fear and come up with some countermeasures against them. It was during the course of that research that we realized they could be used for another purpose. Not only could they be used to sense BTs, but we could also use them as a medium for a brand-new communications system that uses the Beach. It means that the BBs are no longer regarded as people, but as parts—as equipment. BBs are to become human sacrifices on the altar of American reconstructionism,” John said, taking a scrap of paper from his pocket and passing it to Cliff. He was about to go over his five-minute limit. “Burn it when you’re done. The rest is up to you, sir.”

  Cliff accepted it silently. But John wondered whether he would actually read it as he left the room.

  * * *

  A few days passed.

  John heard a door open and close behind him, but he didn’t turn back. It was time. He had done his part with security. The rest was up to Cliff now.

  “You swore an oath to the president. Why are you helping me?” Cliff asked, drawing up beside him without making a single sound.

  “Because you saved my life, sir. Again and again,” John replied.

  Neither man could look the other in the face. Both simply stared down at the BB’s mother as she slept on life support.

  “No matter what hellhole I got sent to, I always made it back. I was so successful that I was selected to serve by the president’s side. Back then, I thought I was invincible. I thought I was some kind of action hero. But I’m not the hero. You are, sir. When you were no longer around, I had to face up to the fact that I wasn’t the man I thought I was. I can’t live without something to dedicate myself to. At one time that used to be you, now it’s America. You’re the reason I’m still alive. And it’s past time I paid that debt. Please let me help you this time.”

  John handed Cliff the gun he had concealed. Cliff’s eyebrows twitched slightly. It was the gun he had once given to John.

  “I can’t terminate your wife’s life support from inside her room. The system won’t allow it. So this is the only other option. There’s no reason to keep her trapped in this brain-dead state forever. She can’t just keep dreaming of her baby forever. An alarm is set to go off if she flatlines. I’ve rigged the system to mimic her vitals… But you won’t have long. Five minutes, tops. Don’t hesitate, sir. This is the only chance you’ll get.”

  John watched Cliff check the revolver’s cylinder and silently left the room.

  * * *

  The first thing John saw was blood all over the floor.

  Things hadn’t gone as planned. As John’s eyes followed the red trail back, he spotted Cliff at the end of it. Without a moment’s hesitation, John sprang into action and ran to Cliff. He was slouched against the wall, his arms slick with blood. The pod containing the BB was covered in blood, too.

  “Oh God! I’m sorry, Captain,” John cried. He crouched down beside Cliff, who looked up and smiled weakly. John could hear footsteps rushing down the hallway behind them and turned to find himself confronted with some heavily armed men. They were special forces. The security alarm had gone off.

  “Hold your fire!” John stood up reflexively and opened his arms wide to stop them. All the guns were now pointed at his chest.

  “Thanks for trying, John.” John heard Cliff’s voice behind him and felt the cold barrel of a gun dig into the back of his neck. He smelled the scent of blood. Cliff flung his other arm around him.

  That’s right, Captain. Use me as a shield.

  With his arms still open, John began to back away with Cliff.

  Then Cliff’s grip loosened. John felt an almighty push from his back, and staggered and stumbled in front of the special forces operatives.

  As the special forces operatives shouted among themselves, John took command of the room with an order that drowned out all the commotion.

  “Stop! It’s a dead end. He’s trapped. Security will take it from here.”

  John may have been able to exert control over the special forces, but the situation still hadn’t changed for the better. In fact, it was getting worse and worse. Cliff was going back on himself and now the only place left for Cliff to run to was back to the laboratory.

  But by the time John reached the lab, there were already people outside. The other members of the security team were there, engine cutters in hand, trying to remove the doors. John didn’t remember giving that order.

  “This room is off limits. No one goes in!” John shouted, receiving looks of disapproval from the security team.

  “But he’s in there, sir. I saw him!” one teammate objected.

  “You saw wro
ng. Now, check the other way. Go!” John barked back.

  The men looked at each other. It was clear they were having trouble accepting an order that didn’t make any sense. But John had to get them away from here. As he reached for his holster to pull out his gun, he heard a voice.

  “No, open it up. He’s in there.”

  It was Bridget. She was here with the special forces. There was nothing else that John could do.

  The doors were prized open and special forces advanced on his old captain. John heard a gun go off and the special forces swarm around him.

  Cliff was covered in blood and saying something to the pod.

  Once all of Cliff’s strength had left his body, the pod rolled to the floor. Special forces picked it up without a moment’s delay and handed it to Bridget.

  Bridget gasped. John was lost for words, too. Cliff smiled sadly at the pair of them from the floor. He was holding the naked baby to his chest and smiling.

  “Captain—” John muttered, dumbfounded.

  The amniotic fluid was dripping from the pod onto the floor. There it mixed with Cliff’s blood to form a vortex pattern.

  Had Cliff already given up? Was he trying to die together with his baby?

  John refused to believe that. Cliff had saved him time and time again. Cliff would be able to save his son.

  Save him. Please save him.

  “Shoot him, John.”

  A pain gripped John like someone was squeezing his heart tightly.

  Why? Why his child? Why do I have to shoot the father of this child?

  “Shoot him!” Bridget commanded again.

  His trembling arms felt like they were acting on their own.

  Cliff looked up at John. John couldn’t believe that the pale face reflected back in Cliff’s eyes was his own. His hand that gripped the gun and his finger on the trigger felt like they belonged to somebody else.

  “I gave you an order! Shoot him! For America.”

  Two gunshots sounded. America had killed Cliff.

  BRIDGES

  Sam had left Port Knot City and continued to head east. His destination was Capital Knot City. He was still making his way back to HQ—back to Deadman, Heartman, Lockne, and a comatose Fragile.

  His movements were heavy, like each part of him had been placed in restraints. Even though he wasn’t carrying any cargo, his back hurt and his hips groaned. Every single calorie he had ingested had been converted into energy for walking, and there was nothing else left. He had visibly lost weight and it felt like his body was shrinking in on itself.

  He lost count of the number of times he had nightmares about his body wearing away to nothing as he continued to walk.

  The one redeeming feature of his lonely march back was that the number of safehouses he could take a rest at along the way had increased. As communications had become operational in this area, the amount and frequency of the cargo delivered by Bridges had grown. The safehouses had been constructed along this route to offer support for these deliveries. Chiral printers were also functioning reliably, so the east was reaping the benefits of being brought back online first. The only problem now was that communications were malfunctioning and no new bases could be established. It was like they had gone back to how things were before they had activated the network at all.

  Unable to stomach the irony, Sam continued to drag his aching body toward its destination. When he finally found a safehouse for the first time in days, it was almost destroyed. While there were still stockpiles of food and medicine in the private basement room, the electricity supply was unstable and the communications terminal would not activate. He couldn’t even use the incubator with communications in such a bad state. Sam was worried that he hadn’t allowed Lou to rest enough on their way here. Lou was showing obvious changes. While Lou had been connected to Sam, the BB no longer dozed off as much anymore. Lou had become more curious about the outside world and was conveying much clearer emotions to Sam. It meant Lou was being pulled closer and closer to the world of the living. Lou should have been presenting with symptoms of autotoxemia by now, after spending so long away from the stillmother’s womb, but there were no signs of it as yet. It was different from the last time Deadman had treated Lou. Sam worried about what this meant for Lou’s future.

  Sam held the disconnected pod to his chest and lay down. As he watched a dozing Lou, he fell into a deep sleep himself.

  —This child’s special.

  Was this why he had to go through this? There were faces. Faces and faces. Countless faces were staring at him. They edged closer until they filled his entire view, before disappearing. Faces he had seen before, faces he might see in the future, faces he would never encounter and faces that died long ago; they all appeared before him and vanished. Pinned down like an insect under a microscope, he was unable to move. All he could do was let them examine him.

  Which are you? A face he didn’t know swam into view. Am I connecting to you? Or are you connecting to me? Where are you? Are you in the past? Are you still alive? Are you in the land of the living? Or the land of the dead?

  Somewhere in the distance, a whale was singing. The sound of a mating call.

  —But is it? Couldn’t it be crying out in sadness?

  One of the many staring faces, a woman, split from ear to ear, becoming one giant mouth. Small canine teeth crowded the mouth right to the back of its throat. It made a disturbing tearing sound as it gnawed through the invisible wall that protected him. The stench of rotting organs surrounded him. He watched a star explode, followed by a vision of a world full of the microscopic life that was first born to these lands. He slid down its throat, mingled with its gastric juices, before being pushed through its contracting and relaxing intestines. Finally, he was expelled from its anus.

  A wave washed over the naked body, the ha, that was soiled with blood and excrement. As he was hit by the wave, he felt the world spin around him and he no longer knew where he was. He tried to stand, but fell back. He had neither hands nor feet. He was just a lump of flesh with eyes, a mouth, ears, and a nose carved out of it. The breaking waves were toying with him as they knocked him around the shoreline. An infinite number of sea creatures were stranded all around him.

  A baby cried, but without his soul, Sam couldn’t stand. All he could do was shuffle across the sand with his mouth as he looked for the child.

  A gigantic wave carried Sam away, far from the shoreline. A sun more enormous than Sam had ever seen before appeared and broke the sky into two, mercilessly beating down on his back. All the water disappeared in an instant and Sam’s skin began to wrinkle and dry out. Now he could only hear the waves. They no longer reached him. He could smell the scent of sea salt, but he couldn’t get back to it. He dug his chin into the sand, and as pain engulfed his entire body, he struggled his way toward the baby’s cries. His dried and hardened skin began to form spikes. Sam used them to try desperately to propel himself forward in the sand. His skin cracked and blood oozed out. Then the bloodied protuberances began to transform into long, thick limbs. Sam used his four limbs to keep on advancing. As he cursed his imperfect ha, he kept on moving forward. Soon, the sun began to sink toward the horizon and a frighteningly cold night set in. Both he and the sea froze over and all sound disappeared.

  The sky was clear and countless stars glowed without a twinkle. This place was directly linked to the rest of the cosmos. It felt like if he looked up, he’d fall, so Sam closed his eyes tight. When he tried to draw his own body in tight to endure the cold, his arms and legs grew. Sam could finally stand. Guided by the baby’s cries, he began to walk.

  As he walked, his body grew. His thighs became more muscular, his hips became higher, and his spine stretched. Now he could look out far in front of him. Now he could move his arms at will and could grab objects with the palms of his hands.

  Now he would be able to embrace the child.

  As he grew more confident, the baby’s cries seemed to grow louder.

  When he called
out Lou’s name, he found a newborn Lou crying at his feet. Sam kneeled and picked Lou up with both hands.

  He held Lou to his chest. They were finally together. Lou’s small hands grabbed the dreamcatcher around Sam’s neck.

  Lou. Sam called out Lou’s name over and over. Lou. I won’t leave you anymore.

  —This child’s special.

  Sam’s chest suddenly became light. The wind pierced it as though a hole had opened up within him. He wasn’t holding anything anymore. There was nothing in his arms.

  When he looked up, he was once again surrounded by countless faces. “Where are you?” he was asked as he began to feel his own body slip away.

  * * *

  Sam awoke to the sound of a steady tapping.

  It was a quiet sound right next to his ear. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. He was curled around Lou’s pod, asleep. Lou was fervently tapping on the window of the pod from the inside. Lou had brought him out of his nightmare. Sam’s whole body felt stiff, but the ache gave him comfort in the knowledge that everything was real again.

  Sam wiped the tears from his face, turned toward the pod, and stared at Lou. Had Lou been having the same dream? Sam felt anxious. He didn’t want this child to be sullied with such a nightmare. He thought about the voice he had heard in his sleep.

  This child’s special.

  “That’s right. You are,” Sam whispered to himself.

  But there were no children who weren’t special. Each and every child mattered. Had a right to exist.

  Sam’s eyes met Lou’s. Lou was making a strange expression, and Sam realized just how angry the situation made him feel.

  * * *

  Once Sam left the safehouse, it was only a matter of time before he began to hurt again. He had begun to feel so numb that it was like he was walking in another person’s body. He felt like he was putting someone else’s foot on the ground with each subsequent step and was breathing through an invisible veil. He felt ungrounded, like he was still dozing in the tail-end of a dream. He slapped his cheeks a few times to try to wake himself up.