Forager - the Complete Trilogy (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Trilogy)

by Peter R Stone

  "What's the best way to approach the town, Macaulay Road or Racecourse Road?" Madison asked.

  I looked out the windows again, and realised I recognised the landscape. "We in Flemington Road?"

  "Yes."

  "We need to go straight to the North End entrance, but if we wanna avoid Skel booby traps, we'd better approach from the top."

  "How do we do that?"

  "Madison, you really need to get out more."

  "Very funny. Now, if you don't mind?"

  I directed Madison through a bunch of back streets that soon brought us to Epsom Road, which we followed until our headlights illuminated Newhome's imposing twelve-foot high, barbwire-topped concrete walls on our right. That in itself wasn't a good sign, as a legion of spotlights mounted on the walls were supposed to illuminate the whole of the no-man's land surrounding the town.

  "Kill the headlights," I said urgently.

  Madison turned them off, and remarked, "They've shot out all the lights."

  "It's worse than that." I pointed up to the guard towers that bracketed the massive twin metal doors that led into North End. Both guard towers had been hit by rockets and blown apart, no doubt fired from the Javelin missile launcher that the Rangers had stolen.

  "Look at the gates!" Madison exclaimed.

  One gate was blown off its hinges and lay in a twisted heap on the ground. The other was swung wide open. And as the lights inside the town were working fine, I could see a line of dilapidated Skel trucks inside the gates, as well as four black 4WDs parked off to one side. I caught a glimpse of people and Skel milling about as well, but whatever they were doing, they weren't fighting.

  "Park just shy of the entrance so they can’t see us," I said as I slipped out of my seat and threaded my way to the back of the Bushmaster. I was already wearing my pistol belt, which included my combat knife, the pistol, and several clips of ammo. I grabbed my bow and quiver and threw them over my back, popped a powerful torch in my pocket, and grabbed an assault rifle.

  Madison brought the Bushmaster to a stop as quietly as she could and then hurried into the passenger compartment to grab her assault rifle.

  I wrenched back the door handle, swung the vehicle's rear door wide open, and leaped out with my gun at the ready. I then hurried through the gates with Madison right behind me.

  Stretched out before us was one of North End’s main streets. It was lined on both sides with multistorey buildings that reached up to block most of the sky from view. The chancellery building was visible a good four hundred meters down the tree-lined road, a tall, imposing, building higher than those surrounding it, but its lights were out, and they shouldn’t be. Something was amiss.

  Close to a dozen dead Custodians lay scattered about the area, some near the entrance, others below the stairs leading to the destroyed gun towers, and the rest just a short distance back from the gates. Some had been blown apart by the rockets, but the rest looked like they'd been shot by small arms.

  But what caught my attention was the scene directly before us. The six Skel trucks were arrayed in one long column, and they were the centre of the activity I'd witnessed on the way here. Around two dozen Skel were in the process of loading a small crowd of crying, complaining and wailing North Enders into the trucks.

  I'll be the first to admit that I've never had time for stuck-up, pompous North Enders, but there weren't no way I was gonna let the Skel haul 'em off into slavery. Not after all the effort we'd just gone through to save three truckloads of slaves.

  "We take out the Skel first. I'll go left, you go right," I said to Madison as I couched the assault rifle against my shoulder and flicked the gun's automatic lockout back to the exposed position so the gun would fire in semi-automatic mode. This way I could fire single shots rather than bursts, which would have emptied the magazine in seconds.

  "No! We have to save the chancellor and the rest of the Koreans first. Then we can come back to deal with the Skel," Madison insisted.

  "They're getting ready to ship out, they won't be here later."

  "I am sorry, but there is nothing we can do about that."

  I grabbed Madison's slim forearm and pulled her close. "I know you value the chancellor and Koreans above everyone else, but I don't. Every citizen of Newhome is of equal value to me, and I won't let these ones be dragged off as slaves. So if you want me to help you take out the Rangers, we deal with these Skel first."

  "Fine!" she snapped.

  "Remember, shoot them in the neck. Now, on three. Three, two, one...go!"

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I ran down the side of the road behind the milling crowd of Skel and terrified North Enders, shooting as I went. I shot three of the hulking Skel dead before the others realised I was even there.

  Cursing at me in fury, the Skel spun about and tried to shove aside the civilians who were in the way, so that they could get at me. Gunshots and more Skel shouting broke out from the other side of the column of trucks. Madison was keeping her word to help me clean up this mess first.

  The confused, terrified North Enders reacted slowly to our assault at first, but now they cried out in fear, scattering in all directions like a flock of frightened pigeons.

  "Get down!" I shouted out in my most authoritative Custodian-style voice. Some of them complied, squatting or lying down where they were or beside the trucks, but the rest just kept running.

  This made my job much harder, as I now had to check my targets more carefully. I was about to shoot the closest Skel who was charging towards me, but an exceptionally well dressed middle-aged woman ran between us, and I only just pulled my gun aside in time. The bullet barely missed her head and ricocheted off the human-skull helmet of a Skel behind her.

  The nearest Skel jumped closer and swung a razor-sharp pickaxe at me. I ducked under the blow, shot him through the neck, and then came up and shot another Skel who was barrelling towards me from between two trucks.

  A bullet flew past my face, missing me by an inch at the most. I stumbled backwards and glanced frantically about, looking for the shooter. But I only spotted him when I heard him ram another bullet into his clumsy bolt-action rifle. He was kneeling down, half concealed by the furthest truck from me. I tried to draw a bead on him, but was forced to shoot another Skel instead, as this one was just about to take my head off. As the Skel slammed to the ground with the clack of dry bones, I noticed the shooter sight down his barrel and prepare to fire.

  As I was out in the open, I took advantage of the only cover afforded me – the other Skel. I leaped to my left, putting a smaller, no doubt female, Skel between us. The Skel shooter fired anyway, and I heard the bullet ricochet off his comrade's armour. Even so, the female Skel stumbled forward a step from the impact, and I took advantage of the small windfall by putting a bullet through her throat before she reached me.

  Two more Skel came charging in, one from each side. But seeing that the shooter had just reloaded, I did the last thing they expected and sprinted between them and tried to take out the shooter. Unfortunately, my bullet hit his armoured skull-helmet rather than his neck and he merely jerked back out of sight.

  The other two came at me now from the sides, swinging their clubs like scythes in a wheat field. I whirled to face the one on my right, stepped in and deflected his blow by using my assault rifle like a club. After that, I kept spinning, stepped back and re-couched my rifle, and fired point blank range at his neck. He went down like a sack of potatoes. My manoeuvre had put some distance between me and the now only remaining Skel, so I fired two shots at him and he went down too.

  Silence suddenly descended, even from Madison's side, so I hoped she'd managed to take down all of her adversaries without getting hurt. Just to make sure I'd taken out all of my opponents, I stepped back towards the trucks while scanning the immediate area with flash sonar. The sweep came up clean and I was pleased to see that the shooter was lying inert on the ground behind the last truck. Madison must have gotten him.

  I was ab
out to go look for her, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a large, nightmarish shape with ram's horns on its head detach from the gap between two trucks and swing a nail studded club at me. I managed to avoid getting struck by the club, but my gun was smashed from my hands and went flying behind me

  "You!" screeched Ram-Horns as he stomped towards me, swinging his club left and right in a rage that had to be bordering on becoming an apoplectic fit. "You're the little runt I caught in Lilydale!"

  "Shouldn't have let me go, eh?" I said as I frantically ducked under blows or leaped back from them while fumbling to pull out my pistol. "I'm also the one who stole those three truckloads of slaves out from under your nose last night."

  That incensed him even further. I managed to withdraw my pistol, but a great sweep of his club sent that flying from my hand as well.

  "Stupid little git – I'm gonna break your kneecaps, shatter your elbows, crush your ribs, and then tear off your head. And then I'll skin and gut you, and salvage what bones I didn't break and make a new suit of armour with 'em!"

  Ram-Horns was tall, over six-foot-six to the top of his ram-horn adorned human skull helmet, so I felt like the proverbial David versus Goliath. Yet, like David, I realised I had the advantage of speed and agility.

  So I whipped out my combat knife and dove beneath his next swing, doing a tuck roll so that I ended up behind him, facing in the opposite direction. But before Ram-Horns could even begin to turn, I lifted my knife in the air and plunged it deeply into the back of his unprotected right knee.

  The monstrous Skel bellowed in pain and tried desperately to remain standing. Meanwhile, I sprung to my feet, turned around, and in one smooth motion stabbed the knife into the back of his neck.

  Ram-Horns went down, his reign of terror finally over.

  "Well done," Madison said as she came around from the front of the furthest truck.

  "How much did you see?" I panted as I waited to regain my breath and get my heartbeat back down to somewhere near normal.

  "Just the last few seconds. The brute never stood a chance, did he?"

  "That is the point of our...enhancements," I said, aware that nearly seventy civilians slowly got to their feet, coming out of hiding around us, most of which were staring at us in awestruck wonder.

  "Thank you, Custodians, thank you," said a middle-aged man wearing a set of flimsy pyjamas and nothing else as he rushed forward to shake my hand.

  Good thing Madison and I were wearing our Custodian uniforms.

  "Everyone, listen up!" I shouted. "I want you to get as far away from the entrance as you can and do so in an orderly fashion. Don't run, don't shout, don't draw attention to yourselves, lest any other Skel hear you."

  "I do not believe there are any other Skel," the man said thoughtfully. "Slaves are what they came for, is my guess."

  "All the same, please get as far away from this area as you can," I replied.

  "On it!" said the man, and he began urging the rest to follow him.

  Madison grabbed my arm and pointed to the darkened chancellery. "I have done as you asked; now you honour your side of the bargain."

  I quickly grabbed and holstered my pistol, and then retrieved the assault rifle and slammed home a fresh magazine of ammunition. "Lead on, but quietly – these are Rangers we are dealing with, not Skel."

  Madison ran off down the road, sticking to the buildings on the right. And just like I'd taught her, she moved covertly, making almost no detectable noise, and moving from cover to cover to minimize the time she could be spotted. The girl was a quick learner. Just like me.

  As we went, I marvelled over the affluent buildings we passed. Even the side streets were paved with red, orange or yellow stones. We passed a multistorey school, complete with an indoor pool and a lavish outdoor playground which included an intriguing obstacle course. We passed nightclubs with flashing lights flickering in the windows, a small cinema advertising 3D-screens and large, reclining chairs. Compared to the rest of Newhome, North End was an entirely different world.

  We slowed our pace as we approached the chancellery, keeping our eyes and ears peeled as we used flash sonar to illuminate every shadow, doorway and window, checking for Rangers. As we drew closer we realised we could hear frantic exchanges of gunfire coming from inside the chancellery, as well as from over near the gates that led from North End into Newhome proper. The Rangers must have taken the gates and were keeping Custodians reinforcements from coming to save their beloved chancellor and councillors. Still, going by the sounds coming from the chancellery, some form of spirited defence was continuing.

  Thanks to my flash sonar I spotted a Ranger hunkered down at the main entrance, using the Corinthian stone columns for cover. And just as I expected, he was wearing light amplification/thermal imaging goggles. Great, there went much of our advantage.

  I motioned for Madison to stop, handed her my gun, and removed my bow and fitted an arrow to the string. I also gave her my torch, a beautiful, powerful beast I'd found in the Bushmaster. Lastly, a handful of small stones I plucked from the gutter.

  "You go first, but throw these stones across the road to keep his attention away from us. And when I give you the signal, shine the torch in his eyes," I whispered below normal human hearing levels.

  Madison slung the rifles over her back and then led the way towards the Ranger, who was still kneeling between two of the stone columns. And just as I'd taught her, she lobbed the stones high into the air, where they arched lazily over to the other side of the street. They clattered to the concrete, making only a small sound, but enough to capture the Ranger's full attention.

  I waited until we were closer and tapped her on the head. Madison immediately aimed the torch at the Ranger and switched it on, illuminating him in its powerful glare. As expected, he cried out and fell back, struggling to pluck off the goggles so he could see. As he did so, I sprinted to the left, whirled to face him and shot my arrow. It sailed straight and true, hitting him in the middle of the chest with such power that the arrowhead protruded out his back. He fell to his side, his gun clattering on the steps beneath him.

  "Good job, Ethan," Madison said as she reached for her rifle.

  "No," I whispered. "Get more pebbles. We gotta take 'em out like we did this guy, without making a sound. If we go in there with guns blazing, we're not gonna get far before we get pinned down."

  "And if we encounter a truck load of them?"

  "Then we’ll have to use our guns," I conceded.

  "How many Rangers do you estimate we are up against?"

  "They came in four 4WDs, so twenty at the most, and some of those are over at the gate."

  "Great," Madison said dryly.

  She took point and led us into the chancellery’s impressive foyer. It was a massive, high ceilinged room with a shining marble tile floor. Suede drapes covered the windows, a row of portraits presented the chancellor and councillors in godlike proportions, and there was a beautiful receptionist’s desk complete with marble countertop. And as we expected, the room – the entire building – was plunged into darkness thanks to the Rangers cutting the power. The good news was that there were no more Rangers in here.

  There was, however, a Claymore mine set up with a tripwire, which I carefully disabled before we moved on.

  The lifts were inoperable, so Madison led us to the staircase, and as soon as we opened the door, we heard sporadic gunfire from several floors up, so we hurried up as fast as we dared, echolocating all the way.

  The fifth floor was apparently dedicated to small children, but we couldn't hear any sound coming from there so we carried on. The sixth floor, the teenagers quarters, was similarly quiet.

  When we got to the seventh floor, we cracked the door and were rewarded with the sounds of gunfire. Madison closed the door and immediately resumed her ascent up the stairs.

  "Where are you going? There’s Rangers on this level," I said quietly.

  "That’s the adults' quarters. The chancellor lives on the
eighth floor," she replied, looking up, her face a masque of deep concern. We could hear gunfire up there too.

  "I didn't just come to save the chancellor. There could be children in here."

  "Ethan, you promised!"

  "I promised to come and stop the Rangers from wiping out the Koreans, and that’s what I’m doing. Surely you can see that the families and children are more important than the chancellor?"

  "No, they are not! He is the very heart and soul of this town, its visionary guide – in a sense, he is the town. But they can always have more children."

  "Madison?"

  "What!"

  "Don’t ever have kids, okay?"

  "Whatever! Now come on!"

  I held out my hand. "Give me my torch – I’m gonna clear out this floor first. Besides, if I don't the Rangers will just come up after us and we'll be trapped."

  "No wonder they euthanized the males – you are incorrigible and impossible to work with!"

  "My. Torch."

  Madison sneered, but handed me the flashlight and my assault rifle anyway. That done, she grabbed her gun and resumed her race up the stairs.

  I was impossible to work with? I think she got it the wrong way around.

  Scowling, I slipped through the door onto the seventh floor and entered a world unlike anything I’d seen before. Beautiful, plush dark red carpet covered the corridor floor, maroon and beige suede adorned the walls, and the ceiling was at least twelve feet high.

  But when I cast my gaze further down the corridor, I gasped in shock at the horrific view that greeted me. Three Custodians and nine Korean men – some of them little more than boys – had been slaughtered by a hail of bullets that had also torn great chunks out of the plaster walls. The Koreans had been armed with a gun I'd only seen in books – the AK-74 – but it hadn't done them the least bit of good.