At night, when the temperature dropped precipitously, frequently sinking well below freezing, most who were able made their way to the apartment blocks or arcologies, cramming themselves inside … that was, if there was room.
Those buildings had been built to house only a few thousand, and yet, they were now home to tens of thousands of people. Such numbers put a serious strain on life support, which was one of the reasons why the machinery kept breaking and needed constant maintenance and frequent repairs.
As they passed a row of buildings, Keira saw that government slogans had been painted on the walls of several.
“Work for the future,” Lee read from one of the signs. “Work for a better tomorrow.”
Someone had painted, Fuck the UPG, over the last slogan.
There were others signs with slogans.
One sign said, Deeds not words make a difference. You too can help make a better tomorrow. Another … Unity in purpose is our goal …
“Empty words,” Keira said. “It’s hard to believe Asherho was once the Imperial Sector Capital.”
“You know,” Lee said, “they say there are Precursor ruins on this world. It was why the Empire came here and claimed the system. Ruins of an alien race. Now, that would be something worth seeing.”
“Uh huh,” Keira said. “I’ve heard those stories all my life. I doubt they ever really existed, the aliens. Even Chris has talked about them. No one’s ever been able to show me proof. It’s just people talking is all, telling tall tales, exaggerating things. You know how that goes.”
“And if they were real, the ruins?” Lee asked. “What then?”
“Then they were likely destroyed with the cracking of the world,” Keira said.
“Come on,” Lee pressed, “you’ve got to admit it would be pretty neat to see something like that.”
“It would be something to see,” Keira agreed. “Think we will find them at Hakagi or just a broken water purification system?”
He flashed her an amused grin.
“Chris,” Lee called, glancing back into the crew compartment. “You wanted a wake-up call once we entered the city. Wakey, wakey, old boy. Are you alive back there?”
A strong gust of wind roared around the APC. Lee slowed their speed, and for several moments, the view, even with the scan suite engaged, was nearly obscured.
Keira looked back into the crew compartment as Chris sat up, his faceplate going from opaque to see-through.
“Have a good nap?” Keira asked him.
“It was divine.” Chris reached up to one of the weapons secured to the wall over his seat with magnetic clamps, an M23 automatic pulse rifle. It was a mean-looking thing, painted black, sleek, and long. The weapon was an old-fashioned, high-velocity slug thrower that was incredibly accurate, especially in the hands of an old marine. Some of the slugs the weapon fired were even self-correcting and target-seeking.
Chris had always seemed proud of his M23, as if it were something special, which Keira had to admit, it was. Even amongst the militia or other security teams, she had never seen another like it. The M23 was so precious to him that, at the range, he refused to allow her to even hold the weapon, let alone fire it.
With accustomed ease, he pulled a magazine from a compartment on the front of his powered armor, slapped it into the opening slot, and armed the weapon, chambering a round. The weapon had no safety, other than his finger. As Chris liked to say, he was the safety.
Keira faced front as their escort began leading them through the maze of streets that had once been the outskirts of the city. Studying the shattered buildings, Keira wondered, as she often did, what it had been like before the Fall and the great cracking, the ruining of their world. At times, she even tried to reconstruct it all in her mind.
She was certain it would have been marvelous and filled with wonders beyond compare. But that was all gone now. They had lost so much, nearly everything. She let out an unhappy breath and continued watching the run-down and destroyed buildings slide by, one after another, as they moved farther into the ruined city. Government slogans and graffiti were everywhere you looked.
Her gaze tracked toward the heart of the city and the skyscrapers. She picked out the Hakagi building. It was a black monolith, in the very heart of the high rises, one of the oldest structures in the city. Hakagi reached up into the hazy air, climbing over one hundred stories in height. It was an ugly building, one constructed without imagination. She had never liked going there, loathed it even, and this time was no different.
Over fifty-thousand people called Hakagi home. They lived in abject poverty and misery. The place was rife with crime and violence. The security assessment she had read had only served to confirm what she already knew. The block was a place even the local police forces were hesitant to go, let alone enforce the law. And if they had to go, meaning Command forced them, they went in overwhelming strength, like their current escort.
As she eyed the ugly building, Keira felt a growing sense of unease. It was almost as if something bad was coming for them and, like the sand, was on the wind.
Chapter Seven
Like a wild banshee, the wind roared and moaned as it gusted around the APC. Even with the scan suite engaged, the augmented view of the outside world ahead was reduced significantly. There was just too much sand and ash in the air. The growing radiation levels and particulate matter in the atmosphere didn’t help either, reducing the view even more, giving it a sort of grainy look.
The weather battered at them in steadily increasing waves. It was only a matter of time until it overtook them, and then conditions would really begin to deteriorate.
Squinting, Keira could just barely see the truck, which had stopped ten meters ahead. Armed men, wearing light combat suits from the escort company, climbed out of the back and moved towards the buildings that lined both sides of the sand-covered street.
The black-clad figures struggled against the fierce wind, which whipped around them. She watched as one of the soldiers lost his footing and fell. He got back to his feet and followed after the others.
Their armor was unpowered, basically an up-armored version of her hazard suit. A sergeant standing by the back of the truck pointed at several buildings as he directed his men and women where he wanted them to go.
They had stopped in what appeared to have once been an industrial or warehouse district. A line of sturdy buildings hemmed in the street. The buildings had an uninspired look to them. That they had come to a halt was not a good sign. It meant their escort had made the decision to hole up until the storm passed.
“Why have we stopped?” Chris asked, poking his head into the cockpit and looking through the window. He expelled an unhappy breath at what he saw.
The radio took that moment to crackle to life. “This is Captain Pikreet.” There was a lot of static, but the captain could be clearly understood. “It’s too dangerous to continue. We will push on after the storm passes.” There was a pause. “We’re going to occupy the buildings to either side and secure a perimeter. Do you read me?”
“I was afraid of this,” Lee said. “It’s a damn shame. We’re only a few kilometers from Hakagi at best.” He activated the microphone. “We read you, Captain. Understood.”
Lee removed his finger from the switch and leaned back in his seat with a resigned expression. He blew out another long breath.
“It’s getting bad out there,” Keira said, watching the sand blow by. “I would not want to be caught out in what’s coming.”
“Let us know if you will be staying in the APC or will need us to requisition quarters for you,” the militia captain sent back.
Chris eyed the militia with an unhappy expression for a moment, then glanced over at Lee. “Any idea on how long the storm will last?”
“Around twelve hours,” Lee said. “At least that’s what the latest forecast said before we lost the uplink with the satellite network. There’s another fast-moving storm just behind this one. We should have a three-to-
four-hour window to get to Hakagi.”
“Well,” Chris said as he turned away, back toward the crew compartment, “I guess there’s no helping it then. We’re stuck here until it blows past. At least there’s a bright side …”
“There is?” Lee asked. “Oh, do tell.”
“We have the meatballs and spaghetti for dinner,” Chris said.
Keira could only agree. It wasn’t all that bad.
“Don’t forget the coffee.” Lee gave a yawn. “Syles gave me four liters of the black stuff.”
“Make sure you activate the proximity sensors,” Chris called. “Someone will need to stay on watch at all times too.”
“Captain Pikreet.” Lee activated the mic again. “We will use our APC for shelter to ride out the storm.”
“Figured you would,” the captain sent back. “If you need anything, radio me.”
“Will do,” Lee replied and then leaned back in his seat again.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Keira offered.
“Good,” Lee said as he unbuckled his harness. “I didn’t feel like taking it anyway. Activating proximity sensors.” Lee flipped a switch, which was followed by a slight pinging tone. “Anyone coming within a meter of the vehicle and having solid mass, we’ll know it.” He began flipping additional switches. “Heat signature sensors up and showing green.”
Keira looked over the readouts before her. They had side and rearview cameras, but as soon the storm fully blew in, they’d be useless. There would be no seeing anything. Even infrared vision would be useless due to the increased radiation levels and blowing sand. At best, it would be unreliable.
“Powering down the engine.” Lee typed in a sequence on the keyboard before him, then hit the execute button. The rumbling of the APC’s power plant ceased. The interior lights dimmed for a moment, then brightened as they switched over to the chassis batteries, which were fully charged. With the absence of the rumbling engine, the wind whipping around and the sand spraying against the hull became louder.
Keira unclipped the safety harness and lifted it over her head. A large chunk of some sort of debris went tumbling across the road between them and the militia truck. In the haze, she could not tell what it was. It almost struck a soldier, one of several who had begun unloading crates from the back of the truck. He never even saw it blow past.
Then the wind died. It was as if someone had simply switched off the blower. The view abruptly cleared as the sand settled back to the ground. It became eerily quiet.
Keira had been about to turn away and retrieve her bag. She stopped and stilled. Not quite believing what she was seeing, she placed her hands on the dash and leaned forward.
Lee, apparently sensing something was wrong, looked up. “Oh shit,” he breathed.
“This isn’t happening.” Keira felt a stab of intense anger mixed with disbelief. “Tell me they’re not doing what I think they are doing.”
The horror was plain in his voice when Lee spoke. “Just when I thought I’d seen it all.”
Keira turned, moving back into the crew compartment. Chris had opened a locker next to his surprise crate and was in the process of pulling something out. He looked over at her in clear question, his eyebrows drawing together. Keira went to the hatch and undogged it, throwing the handle back. She had to use effort to force it open against the wind, which had taken that moment to gust strongly.
“Keira,” Lee called after her, “what the hell are you doing? Where are you going? Wait. For Titan’s sake—Chris, I think we have a problem.”
“Keira,” Chris snapped. “Stop.”
Ignoring him, she stepped out into the growing storm. The sky to her right, back down the street, was thoroughly black, menacing, and as impenetrable as could be. Had they a better vantage point, the storm would have looked like it was eating and swallowing up everything in its path as it drew closer to the city.
In a matter of minutes, the worst of it would wash over them and, she knew from experience, everything would go dark. The wind would become much stronger, violent to the point of being life-threatening. It would be nearly impossible to see, let alone stand. The gusts were already powerful, and she found it an effort to climb out of the APC.
She hopped down to the ground. The sand rained against her suit in what sounded like a shower of water. She turned toward the buildings on the right side of the street as the wind suddenly let up.
A warning siren, one of several, sounded off in the distance, wailing mournfully away as it called attention to the danger of the approaching storm.
Her anger only intensified as the sand and ash fell to the ground. People, civilians all, had clearly been sheltering inside the buildings on either side of the street. As impossible as it seemed, the militia were forcing them out and into the coming storm. She had to stop this madness. She looked around for the sergeant and could not see him. She couldn’t spot any officers either.
She took several steps forward, toward the truck, searching. The people who had been forced out onto the street were shouting, crying, and pleading to the deaf ears of the armed men and women of the militia. Amongst the civilians, there were a surprising number of children. At their sight, her anger grew and so too did the need to do something, anything to help. She estimated the militia had evicted more than fifty people.
To her immediate right, a makeshift metal door banged open, and a family of five emerged out of a squat two-story brick building. They had no protective gear, only the clothes on their backs, which were ragged and threadbare. There were three small children, the oldest being no more than eight. They were being herded by a woman Keira took to be the mother and they all appeared terribly frightened.
“No.” An older man with gray hair was pleading with the two soldiers who had forced them outside. “Please don’t do this.”
One of the soldiers gave the man a shove backward with his rifle. “Piss off. We have our orders. Go on, get out of here. Off with you.”
“Find someplace else,” the other soldier said harshly. By the rank insignia on his arm, Keira saw he was a corporal. His name plate said Lang Ho. “This place is now ours. You can have it back when we’re done and move on.”
“I beg you,” the man said, dropping to his knees before them. He grabbed at the arm of the corporal. “Take what you want of ours. Let us stay. We have nowhere else to go. The storm is almost on us. Show some humanity.”
The corporal jerked his arm free, then in a rapid movement and using the butt of his rifle, he hit the pleading man hard on the forehead, knocking him to the ground. The man collapsed like an empty sack and lay there unmoving. The woman, holding her children tight, began sobbing. Thoroughly frightened, the children were crying also. The second militiaman barked out a callous laugh as the corporal raised his rifle to hit the helpless man again.
Keira’s heart broke at what she was witnessing, and then her anger roared fully back, like it never had before. She was a towering mountain of rage. She crossed the short distance between them in a heartbeat and threw her shoulder into the corporal as he brought the rifle butt down again.
The blow came as a complete surprise, for he had not seen her coming. Keira gave a grunt from the impact, which was jarring and hurt her shoulder. The force knocked him roughly to the ground. He lost his grip on the rifle, which spun away into the air.
Keira almost fell herself, but managed to keep her feet, just barely. She turned on the other soldier, about to berate him, and came to a stop. He had raised his rifle. The weapon was aimed squarely at her chest. Too late, Keira realized her mistake. His finger moved to the trigger, and in his eyes she saw a shocking eagerness for violence. He licked his lips in anticipation.
“Were I you,” a voice said, in a calm, almost patient tone, “I would not do that, son.”
As if out of nowhere, Chris had appeared. The muzzle of his rifle clicked audibly as it pressed against the side of the soldier’s face shield. The soldier nearly jerked, and for a heartbeat, Keira was afraid he
might pull the trigger, more out of shock and reflex than anything else. The expected bang did not come.
An intense wave of relief washed over her that Chris was here.
There was movement to her left. Lee had climbed out of the APC. He too had a rifle in his hands, an old-fashioned M-02G slug thrower, his weapon of choice. It was pointed at the corporal she had knocked down. The man had been reaching for his weapon.
“Don’t move,” Lee ordered, advancing to within a meter. His voice trembled slightly, but there was strength of will there too as he aimed the rifle steadily. “Don’t you fucking move.”
The corporal froze as his eyes tracked to Lee and the weapon pointed at him. Then, he pulled his hand slowly back and away from his rifle. A moment later, lying on his back in the sand, he held both hands up to Lee.
Keira turned her attention back to the man who had his rifle pointed at her chest. His eyes, however, were on Chris. The weapon in his hand was shaking ever so slightly. Chris, in his powered armor, was menace incarnate.
“Son, if you pull that trigger, you are going to find a whole world of trouble,” Chris said in the same calm tone. “On that, I promise.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” the soldier said. His voice trembled and nearly broke. “We’re the militia.”
“And I’m an old jarhead with anger issues. Now, do yourself a favor and lower that weapon before I grow bored and decide to end this by putting a hole in your head.”
As if to emphasize his point, Chris tapped the muzzle of his rifle against the faceplate of the militiaman, whose gaze went from Chris to the weapon aimed at his head and back again. The militiaman’s rifle was shaking, violently now. After a moment, he closed his eyes, lowered the weapon, and as he did, his shoulders sagged in defeat.
“Smart move.” Chris took a couple of steps back and pointed his own weapon down at the sand.
Fallen Empire: A Military Science Fiction Epic Adventure (Born of Ash Book 1) Page 10