Truancy City

by Isamu Fukui

  Joe was now taking exaggerated gulps from a hip flask in between pulling his trigger. It was deliberately stupid, and probably meant as a challenge. Cross promised himself that he would take care of it later.

  The radio blared. “Everyone, you have an eye in the sky coming in.”

  That was a surprise. The City had lost so many helicopters to Truancy rockets that the remaining few were rarely used. That they were willing to use one now meant that they must be desperate for information. The Truancy’s night attack had taken them by surprise, and it was hard to tell what their plan could possibly be.

  Cross could hear the distant buzz of the helicopter overhead, high out of range of the Truancy’s rockets. Then Joe pointed at something and shouted.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Heads turned. Worried murmurs broke out. In the distance Cross could make out something charging down the overpass. It was clearly some kind of machine, and whatever it was, it was large enough to block off almost the entire width of the road. Flashes of gunfire and explosions briefly illuminated parts of it, but not enough to make it recognizable.

  “Is that thing ours?” Joe demanded.

  “I don’t think so,” Cross said, cold dread forming in his gut. “I think it may mean that the barricade has fallen.”

  “Well, gee, maybe we should, I don’t know, find out?”

  Ignoring Joe’s sarcasm, Cross glanced over the edge again just in time to see Floe vanish into a building along with several other students. Satisfied that she’d be safe, Cross ran towards the advancing machine. A few brave students followed in his wake.

  As the pavement flew beneath their feet, aerial reports from the helicopter began filtering in on the radio.

  “—lot of them in from District 5, but the line’s not too thick. They’re pressing pretty hard towards the overpass! Yeah, it looks like a lot of them are already taking shelter under the overpass, so watch out for—”

  “Ask him about that monster on the overpass, dammit!” Joe said. “Is the barricade gone or not?”

  There was more static, then:

  “—can’t be happening, it looks like Truancy vehicles are on the overpass, following behind … what the hell is that?”

  Joe rolled his eyes and smacked his forehead in frustration.

  “Pilot, this is the Captain of the Student Militia,” Cross spoke into his radio. “There’s some sort of armored vehicle on the overpass, moving fast. I think the Truancy is advancing behind it.”

  “I see it. Moving in for a closer look.”

  The droning sound of the helicopter grew louder, and Cross knew that somewhere above them the pilot was descending. The black Truancy machine was getting closer now, sparks flying as it smashed debris out of the way.

  Just then it slammed into an abandoned car, and the resulting fireball illuminated its entire shape.

  Joe stopped still. “Hey, isn’t that a—”

  “A bulldozer?” the pilot cried on the radio, evidently having gotten close enough to get a good look. “It’s some kind of freak bulldozer! Hold on a sec.”

  A moment later, the helicopter cast a searchlight down at the machine. As its full form came into view, Cross felt his heart skip a beat. It was indeed an enormous bulldozer, a behemoth that had to have been salvaged from an old construction site, now twisted to the Truancy’s violent purposes. The Truants had painted the machine black, and sprayed their hated red symbol onto it. Barbed wire had been strung over the whole thing, and armored plating had been wielded on to protect the driver.

  Armed Truants rode atop the machine’s bulk, shielded in the front by additional metal plates. They roared their challenge at the helicopter hovering above, and before Cross could shout a warning, one of them raised a rocket launcher and fired. There was fire from above, a scream on the radio, and Cross could only stare in horror as the helicopter crashed down onto the overpass itself. Moments later, the bulldozer plowed right through the wreckage.

  Lit by flames, the machine seemed almost alive in that moment. Joe let out a terrified yell and turned to run. Survival instinct kicking in, Cross followed suit, though he knew they hadn’t a hope of outrunning the machine. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins as he realized just how much trouble they were in. A drop off the side of the overpass would be fatal, and, far from the nearest ramp, Cross could think of no way to challenge the mountain of metal itself.

  Just then, his eyes fell upon an abandoned car on the road ahead. His heart surged with hope.

  * * *

  Floe had followed the other students into the darkened building when the first shots rang out. The student directly in front of her crumpled to the floor. Floe swore and dropped to her belly, feeling for a pulse but finding none. More rifles flashed in the dark. A small flame was lit, and Floe immediately knew what it was—she raised her rifle and fired at the source, detonating the firebomb before it could be thrown.

  Liquid fire sprayed everywhere, cutting through the darkness, and the Truants that were not caught in it were forced to flee out the door where most of them were cut down. Exhaling, Floe stood again. One of the Truants was still on fire and moving. Knowing that nothing could be done for him, Floe shut her eyes and put him out of his misery. As she lowered her rifle, she realized that she was shaking.

  They’re not your comrades anymore, they’re your enemies! Floe told herself. You’ve seen and done worse, don’t fall apart now!

  “Hey, Floe.” Sepp’s voice blared on the radio and snapped her out of her trance. “I think I see some Truants heading back towards the overpass. Looks suspicious. Can you check it out?”

  “Yeah … yeah, I think the helicopter mentioned that too.” Floe recovered quickly, then turned to the other students. “I’ll return to the overpass myself. The rest of you keep going, avoid getting close to District 5 in case they’ve set traps. Try to search the building with the lit neon sign—we spotted the Takan there earlier.”

  The other students obediently pressed forward as Floe doubled back. As she emerged from the building, it became clear that Sepp had been right; a small force of Truants had gone around and was now occupying the students’ old position under the overpass. The Enforcers that had stayed behind had now been pushed back, exchanging fire on the other side. Floe reported this to Sepp.

  “Are they nuts?” Sepp wondered. “This leaves them totally vulnerable to a pincer attack.”

  “They don’t do these things on a whim,” Floe said, biting her lip. “They must be after something.”

  “Well, take a closer look and see if you can find out what they’re up to,” Sepp said. “I can’t spot them under the overpass from here, but I can cover you.”

  “That’s probably the best idea.”

  “Happy hunting.”

  Floe checked her weapon, and then began creeping to the left. The Truants under the overpass hadn’t noticed anything yet, and with any luck she would be able to get close enough to do some serious damage. Noticing some dark figures in the way, Floe realized that the Truancy had posted lookouts.

  A cry to her far right, followed by silence, told her that Sepp was keeping his word. The other Truants were now moving to investigate, and one of them passed close by where Floe was hidden. She raised her rifle.

  “A bulldozer? It’s some kind of freak bulldozer! Hold on a sec.”

  Cursing herself for her carelessness, Floe reached down to switch off her radio. Too late. When she looked up again, she found two male Truants leering down at her, rifles pointed at her face.

  “Drop the gun,” one of them said. “It’d be a real shame to have to kill a pretty student like you.”

  The foot soldiers of the Truancy were as hormone-driven as ever, Floe thought as she laid down her weapon. The intelligent thing to do would have been to shoot her on sight. As one of them stepped closer, she readied the knife she kept hidden up her sleeve.

  Just then, two things happened at once. In the distance the helicopter crashed onto the overpass, and a bu
llet struck one of the Truants in the head. As the second Truant turned to see what was going on, Floe lunged, slashing the boy’s hand with her knife. The boy yelped, and she seized his rifle, slamming the stock into his face.

  The Truant dropped to the ground, and Floe kicked him to make sure he stayed down. She cuffed the boy’s arms behind his back, gagged him with a rag, and removed his shoes. Then she looked around to see where the shot could have come from. In the darkness and chaos, all she could tell was that it wasn’t anyone nearby.

  Remembering her radio, Floe flipped it back on and switched to her unit’s private frequency.

  “Sepp, was that you?”

  “Sure was.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just call me your white knight.”

  Floe hitched the radio back to her belt. Her Truant prisoner was stirring now, looking up at her somewhat apologetically. She drew her knife again and pulled the gag from his mouth.

  “What are you guys doing here?” she demanded. “Why are you so intent on getting under the overpass?”

  The Truant seemed to consider this for a moment, and then smiled. “You know, you’re a very attractive—AURGH!”

  Floe had kicked him between the legs.

  “Not in the mood for jokes,” she said. “Tell me the plan.”

  The boy looked resentful now. “Why should I?”

  “Because if you don’t…” Floe raised her knife. “I’m going to do some nutcracking.”

  The boy paled. “You wouldn’t.”

  Actually he was right, but Floe saw no reason to let him know that.

  “You want a demonstration? Do you prefer left or right?”

  She crouched down as though she meant business. The Truant flinched.

  “All right, all right,” he said. “What’s it matter anyway? You can’t stop us. We’ve already strapped the explosives to the columns.”

  As those words registered, Floe felt cold dread in her stomach. Everything fell into place all at once. She reached for her radio and switched to an open frequency.

  “Everyone, this is an emergency, the Truancy has planted bombs on the overpass support structures; they can collapse the whole thing at any moment!”

  * * *

  “You drive!” Cross shouted as he piled into the backseat of the abandoned car.

  “Why me?” Joe demanded, getting behind the wheel.

  “I don’t know how!”

  Cross immediately regretted admitting that. Joe snorted derisively, but the growing roar of the machine behind them forestalled any further conversation. Cross shot out the rear window while Joe struggled to get the car started. The bulldozer was in plain sight now, and gaining fast.

  His mind racing, Cross understood now that the battle was as good as lost. No matter how it ended, there would be no holding the Truancy back. Within hours the Truancy would be able to advance behind their machine all the way into District 1. Meanwhile, the explosives would collapse the overpass behind them, protecting their rear.

  A student fired a rocket at the oncoming bulldozer. The shot exploded against the blade, but the machine just kept coming. The student was cut down by gunfire even as he turned to run, while another decided to take his chances and jumped off the edge of the overpass.

  “Got it!” Joe roared in triumph as the car engine came to life.

  The bulldozer was almost upon them, its massive bulk overshadowing their tiny vehicle. As Joe hit the gas, it became clear that the car was in no shape to do much more than maintain the distance from the bulldozer. The Truants began yelling obscenities and insults as their gunfire peppered the car.

  As if moved by puppet strings, Cross rose and fired a shot. One Truant was knocked off the bulldozer as his fellows cursed and ducked.

  Cross withdrew again, heart pounding from that small victory. He shut his eyes and let his breathing ease. The whole situation felt faraway and surreal, like a dream where he could see his death coming but could do nothing to stop it. Time seemed to slow. It was an eerie, wonderful, terrifying feeling.

  “Everyone, this is an emergency, the Truancy has planted bombs on the overpass support structures; they can collapse the whole thing at any moment!”

  Floe’s voice on the radio was like a bucket of cold water, reminding Cross that he had work to do. Looking out the front windshield, Cross saw that they weren’t far from the Student Militia’s main lines. He realized what had to be done.

  “Sepp!” Cross shouted into his radio. “Sepp, are you there?”

  “Yes, sir. What do you need?”

  “Can you target the explosives on the overpass support columns?”

  “Some of them.”

  Cross shut his eyes tight and grinned.

  “Can you shoot one as that thing crosses over it?”

  There was a pause as Sepp seemed to understand. “Yeah, but—”

  “Do it! Don’t argue!”

  It took Joe a moment to understand what Cross had just ordered. When he did, his head snapped around and the car swerved dangerously. “Hey, wait a minute! If he does that then we’ll also be—”

  There was a great rumbling sound and the ground shook beneath them. Cross’ head slammed hard into the car roof, and everything went black.

  * * *

  From his hiding place behind some trashcans, Aaron watched as more students appeared around the corner with guns drawn. Before they could react, Takan threw a bottle through the air and then shot it with his pistol. The students were showered by burning liquid. Even as they caught fire, Takan was among them, his white blade drawn—

  Aaron turned away, having no need or desire to see the rest. Had he not known Takan personally, Aaron was not ashamed to admit that he might have been scared.

  “It’s over, Aaron. You can come out.”

  Aaron emerged to find Takan taking a swig from a glass bottle. Mineral water, fancy stuff they’d looted from a shop nearby. He didn’t seem to be ruffled in the slightest.

  “I didn’t expect so many of them to get this far,” Takan said, pouring the rest of the bottle out onto the burning ground. “The rational thing for them to do would’ve been to try to turn back and try to retake the overpass columns.”

  Aaron shrugged. “Who knows what they were thinking? Maybe they were after you in particular.”

  “I figured that letting myself be seen would intimidate them.” Takan frowned. “Maybe that backfired. You should return to Truancy City. The battle is going according to plan any—”

  The roar of an unusually large explosion reached their ears, and Aaron felt an involuntary shiver travel down his spine. He knew exactly what that sound meant, and judging from Takan’s face, his leader did as well. They ran out of the alley and saw it immediately: one of the massive support pillars had been destroyed, a chunk of the overpass fallen. The Beast was nowhere to be seen.

  “I think we have a problem,” Aaron said.

  Takan had a dark look on his face. “Could it have been one of your people? An accident?”

  “Impossible, I’m the only one with a detonator.” Aaron shook his head. “And besides, the timing…”

  “Is too convenient.” Takan nodded. “Then I assume that the students or Enforcers did it themselves. Sacrificing their key defensive structure to delay our attack. Talk about cutting off the nose to spite the face.”

  “Well, it seems to have worked,” Aaron said. “We’ve lost the Beast.”

  “That is unexpected,” Takan admitted. “But with the overpass gone we can now advance on foot and reach District 1 within the week. And we always have our sleeper agents.”

  “So, regroup?”

  “Yeah.” Takan sheathed his sword. “As soon as our people get clear, detonate whatever explosives are already set. We might not be able to use the overpass ourselves, but we’ve blown a gaping hole right into the heart of their territory. The Mayor is in no position to refuse our offer now.”

  Aaron reached for his cell phone. “And if he does?”


  “Then we move on to Plan B.” Takan shrugged. “We’ll have given them a fair chance, and we can’t wait forever. If the Mayor fails to see reason, we’ll just wipe them out. The Educators, the Enforcers, the Student Militia. Everyone who still wants war.”

  3

  DARKEST CHILDHOOD

  In his countless hours spent unconscious, Cross had experienced many dreams. Some of them were recurring. It was easier for him when the scenes were from his past, for though he had no control over those, he at least knew how they would unfold.

  The scenes played out the same way each time.

  They were always nightmares.

  * * *

  “Time’s up, class, let’s see how you did.”

  Cross winced and dropped his pencil, his assignment lying half-finished before him. He didn’t have to look around to know that everyone else had completed their work, and they didn’t have to look at his to know he hadn’t. He’d developed something of a reputation at his school, and though Cross knew it wasn’t his fault, he never felt safe explaining why.

  The other students around him were chatting now, probably about him. Cross did his best to ignore them. It was always like this, in every class, in every grade. He was always alone in the classroom. He glanced down at his hands, the cause of his current misery. Ugly purple bruises slashed across each palm, making it very painful to write.

  Ms. Obeita, his fat fourth-grade teacher, waddled over to collect his paper. He quickly tried to hide his hands, but the ugly marks were hard to miss and Obeita was a sharp woman.

  “How did you get those on your hands, Cross?” she demanded.

  “I got them while playing during recess, ma’am,” Cross lied.

  “Again? You’re such a careless and sloppy boy,” she muttered, snatching his paper and glancing at it. “There will be no more recesses for you. You can stay inside and do extra work instead, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to notify your father.”

  Cross felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”