by Al K. Line
"He took a load in with him early this morning, I saw him making them while I was feeding Tomas. He has plenty of provisions for the morning at least, maybe longer." Ven smirked, but the truth was she was sick of it as well. It was hard to think straight, and it felt like being at sea, the bus was rocking so much.
"Right, that's it, we're moving. If Mr. Sex Machine is going to be at it day and night then we need to live somewhere that has thicker walls, more bedrooms, serious soundproofing and definitely rooms very far away from each other. Oh, and somewhere that doesn't bloody rock every time Al thrusts Mr. Happy in and out again." Kyle thought back to a conversation with Al he would rather forget where Al unabashedly told Kyle that the special name for his special man in his trousers was Mr. Happy. He was called Mr. Happy because he was very happy that he was going to finally come out and play on a regular basis for the first time in his life.
Now Kyle had the name indelibly imprinted in his brain every time the bus bumped, whether or not it was Al exercising Mr. Happy with Mandy or just them going over a pothole in the road. He shuddered at the thought, again, and opened the door to the bus to try to get some peace. Outside wasn't better, in fact it may have been worse. The bus was not only rocking but from outside he could see the whole thing bouncing up and down, plus hear the suspension squeaking rhythmically every time Al got a little more fastidious with exercising Mr. Happy.
Was there no end to the big guy's stamina? He cursed as yet another image of Mr. Happy came into his head unbidden. He really had to stop thinking of Al as the big guy, it wasn't doing his nerves any good at all.
It had been like this for days now. Mandy was totally recovered from her slaver ordeal, and slowly, over the weeks since, her and Al had taken their relationship to the next level. Al was very, very, very excited about this. He needed practice, his excitement spilled over quickly, so practice he and Mandy did. A lot, and he got better, and for Ven, Kyle, Tomas, and even Bos Bos, Al's new improved prowess was really getting in the way of... well, everything. Nobody could concentrate, nobody could focus, even Bos Bos had taken to hiding in the driver's seat footwell with his paws over his ears, whimpering quietly to himself — it wasn't working.
Kyle let out a silent scream of mental anguish and stormed away to go look at the animals. There was no way that he was ever going to sleep on that bus again — or try to, anyway. Much as he loved being back at the safari park he didn't love that they were still all living on the bus. The sad fact was that it was the safest place, and it meant that if they had to they could leave at a moment's notice. But it was cramped with all of them on there. Mandy could give Ven a run for her money when it came to accumulating needless crap, plus she wasn't as keen on doing the dusting either. Nope, it was time to move on, or build some kind of serious fortifications and live in one of the buildings dotted around the park.
Kyle hugged Tomas tight to his chest, all too aware that he wouldn't be able to carry his son around forever. He was growing fast, and getting heavy. His son had changed since the encounters with the alpha zombie, and Kyle knew that above all else it was of the utmost importance to keep Tomas well away from the infected. Well away.
He wondered about Ven, and how she would cope if Tomas turned out to be a far from normal child. The worry was definitely there that he would be something different, something unique. He just hoped it would be in a good way, helping to solve the infection problem, not something obscene like the kilted leader of the British zombie army.
"You okay, you were miles away there?" asked Ven, coming up beside them, concern on her face. "Don't let it get to you, he will calm down after a while... maybe," said Ven with a wry smile.
"Eh? What? Oh, no, I wasn't thinking about that, but thanks for the reminder," said Kyle, grimacing, staring back at the bonging bus.
"Thinking about our baby Tomas were you? I know how you feel, it's all I can think about at times now. Do you think he will be alright Kyle? Can you promise me he'll be a nice boy and turn out to be as loving and kind as his father is?" Ven looked to him imploringly, willing him to give her that simple promise.
Kyle shook his head sadly. "I wish I could promise you that Ven, I really do, but you know I can't. If I could I would, I want it more than I've ever wanted anything in the world, but I just don't know what is going to happen."
They both looked at the young child, smiling sweetly in his father's arms, innocence personified, happy as only a child can be. They both began to weep silently for a future they wished would pass them by and leave them untouched.
Epilogue: Hasn't He Grown?
Tomas was nine, and Tomas was angry.
He was tall for his age, unlike the other children in countless ways. They mostly kept their distance, or if not they treated him with respect. They didn't try to involve him in their games, there was no playing chase, no games of tag, no British Bulldogs for Tomas. He had gone past such antics years ago now. If you were in Tomas' company, whatever the age, then it was not to play childish games. The other children didn't tease him, they didn't joke about his lanky frame, and they absolutely didn't make him angry. It meant he spent a lot of his time with the older kids, or, more often than not, with the adults. Those of his own age held little interest for him anyway. He was past such juvenile things. He had experienced too much in his short life for playtime to hold any excitement.
The whole world was a playground and he could feel it expanding by the day. Pulsing away at the back of his consciousness, growing, becoming more accessible. He could feel more of the hivemind every day, understand rudimentary principles of how it worked, feel the connection growing. He could get lost in it for hours, days even, if he wasn't snapped out of it by his dad.
His mother was gone, he hadn't seen her for some time now. How long he wasn't quite sure, time seemed to pass differently of late, as if in a haze. He sort of understood that his time was not that of other people — changes in his body, changes that had started when he was just a little baby, had gone through countless permutations, many caused by his own will.
The collective called to him, desire for the high nirvana always an overwhelming need, a craving, whenever you entered the hivemind. Not a consciousness, there was no thought from the infected, just base desires and needs, primal urges that had to be filled. But within the hivemind were tiny sparks, golden motes like dust highlighted in shafts of sunlight, popping in and out of existence like the beginning, or the end, of distant planets in the infinite void.
He caught glimpses, felt things different to the base needs, and understood that there were others out there, some turned to the side of the infected, willing them on to ever more deranged acts, intent on obliterating humanity totally, whilst others had made a different choice, one that strove for understanding, something new, maybe a return to human civilization. Something that had degenerated so far since he had been a child that he found the stories his dad told him, and those that he remembered from his mother, to be mere fairy-tales, unable to connect the dots to a reality that was all he had ever known.
He closed the screen on the laptop, angry with the ridiculous smattering of incoherent garbage he found on the few remaining chatboards populated by those that were Online. This was supposed to be the new Web, one free from infection, but it would take many more attempts before it ever became what it once was. All it took was for one infected device to connect and the whole thing collapsed again, just like it had at the start. But there must be a way, so he would carry on until he found it. He had already learned so much, found the lost files of Sarlic Acwell, those that caused it all in the first place. But more importantly he found out exactly how the infection worked, and was slowly understanding the why, although he doubted he would ever come to grips with exactly what it did to the body, it changed so quickly. But he had learned enough to make changes to his own body chemistry, and to a few others too — always of their own choosing. It was what had sent his mother away, she couldn't face it all over again.
Veins pul
sed at his temple, standing proud on his evenly tanned face. His eyes darkened and a frown creased his brow.
He stood in front of the amassed group of infected, nineteen in total, and closed his eyes.
He let the hivemind enter him, or he entered the hivemind, he was never sure which way around it was. He felt himself become a part of it, he felt himself expand into the fractal crystal shard. He allowed it to expand, infinite tendrils reaching out to gather in more of the collective.
They shuffled about, as if swaying in the breeze, but quieted as Tomas gained more control, his mastery improving by the day. Soon they were still, like ragged statues left to weather the elements, and he felt himself go deeper.
One day it would all be over, he could take charge of them all, save humanity if he so wished, make certain that the survivors, and the tiny number of new lives in the world, could begin to flourish rather than live in terror.
If that was what he chose to do.
If he finally picked a side with absolute certainty.
If he could be sure that humanity was the right choice for a victor. Did people, with all their flaws, their insanities, their countless cruelties, really deserve to dominate over animals that did nothing but follow their instincts and did so without malice?
He was still young, he knew, so it was all very confusing, but time would make up his mind, one way or the other. For now it was enough to explore the possibilities, see what the hivemind held, explore the golden motes, and delve back into the fragmented Web to see what was happening out there in a world he had until very recently had no knowledge of.
Man, you gotta love the Internet, it's like a snapshot of humanity, good and bad, he thought. He turned his attention back inward, focusing on a pulsing fractal shard, as dark as coal and with infinite potential.
It was there, waiting for those that had the courage and the ability to overcome the botnet.
He gave his instructions.
This time they would obey.
The End
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