Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series)

by Peter R Stone

  "Madison and I'll handle this one, okay?"

  "Okay," he said, looking both guilty and relieved at the same time.

  "Take 'em all out!" Leigh shouted after us as we left the room.

  "You come back, Jones, you hear me?" David shouted.

  And then we were gone.

  But when Madison led me out of the hospital and I saw the vehicle she'd commandeered, I staggered to a stop. "You've got to be kidding. Do you even know how to drive that thing?" For there, parked outside the hospital's front door, was the Custodian Bushmaster Protected Mobility Vehicle that Lieutenant King had driven here a few weeks ago.

  "I do, yes. And can you think of a more suitable vehicle? It is fast and bullet proof and the Custodians will not shoot at us when we approach the town in it."

  "Your logic is impeccable, as always. Okay, let's get this show on the road."

  Chapter Thirty

  I sat in the front passenger seat while Madison drove the large, bulky Bushmaster at near breakneck speeds. Luckily, the vehicle's headlights worked, or we would have crashed a dozen times over.

  And me, I was heartbroken. Whether I survived tonight or not, either way I would lose Nanako. If I died, I lost her, and if I survived and got back to Hamamachi, I was going to divorce her, and then travel throughout Victoria until I found some other place I was willing to live out the rest of my lonely days. Days in which I would mope and mourn the loss of my soul mate and best friend.

  "You know, there is a good chance you can stay in Newhome if you want to," Madison said out of the blue as the Bushmaster sped down the Bass Highway through wide rolling fields of grass that waved in the gentle wind.

  "What are you talking about?" I snapped. "You said I'm a wanted terrorist with a death warrant issued for me."

  "About that..."

  "Yes?"

  "I lied."

  "Really?" I scoffed.

  "I was ordered to bring you in alive."

  "So why did you say..."

  "I was trying to shock you and throw you off your game so I could overpower you more easily."

  "Didn't quite work, then, did it?" I surmised.

  "My point is," Madison continued, undaunted, "Providing we beat the Rangers and Skel tonight, once I point out the considerable service you have done our town, I am sure they will grant you a full pardon, especially if you were to volunteer to work with the geneticists."

  "Work with the geneticists? In what way?" I sneered. I wanted to kill the geneticists, not work with them.

  "Volunteer to assist them in their experimental breeding program. You are, after all, the only remaining male echolocator of a suitable age."

  "You've got to be kidding."

  "No, I am serious. You know that this is the only way you will be able to have children, right?"

  "And if the children were boys, they'd euthanize them. You really don't think things through sometimes, Madison."

  "If the boys were born under the strict supervision of the breeding program, they would not be euthanized, since they would be raised since birth in the way the chancellor wants them to be."

  "You mean they'll be brainwashed since birth, and to me, that's worse than being euthanized."

  "They are not brainwashed, Ethan. They are enlightened."

  "Oh, please. And tell me, is that how you view yourself – enlightened?"

  "It is the truth."

  And to think I thought we'd be able to get through her brainwashing. I couldn't have been more wrong. "Madison?"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm just gonna forget you even suggested I volunteer to join your breeding program, okay?"

  "Just letting you know the option is on the table," she said.

  "Answer's still no."

  "Fine."

  A little while later, my body reminded me that I'd hadn't slept since the night before, and I was soon lulled to sleep by the rocking motion of the Bushmaster as it sped over the pitted surface of the highway...

  ...a couple of weeks had passed since I'd overheard Ken ask Nanako to marry him, and try as I might, I couldn't find inner peace after that moment. For scenario after horrific scenario kept playing through my mind, that some other, more eligible guy and his family would approach Nanako and her mother, and ask for Nanako's hand in marriage. And I knew, without even the slightest shadow of doubt, that if that happened and Nanako accepted such a guy's marriage proposal, I'd be devastated. And not just temporarily so, no, I'd be devastated forever. Because Nanako was the most amazing, kind, gentle yet passionate, and beautiful girl I'd ever met. She had in fact, become my world, my life. I woke thinking of her and couldn't wait to get over to her house for breakfast so I could see her, I loved the days where we worked together as foragers, and I hated the days when we were separated 'cause one of us was on Militia duty. And the evenings after work were pure bliss, as I dined with her and her family, and spent the rest of the evening (often into the wee hours of the morning) lost in deep conversation with her.

  It was after dinner, now, and the sun was low on the horizon. Nanako and I were sitting on her house's glazed clay roof tiles, looking out to sea while we chatted.

  "You know, Nana-chan," I said suddenly, my heart fluttering in nervousness. "Before I met you, I vowed and declared I wouldn't marry until the age of thirty. But I never dreamed in a million years I'd meet someone as special as you when I said that."

  Nanako peered up at me from beneath her dark pink fringe, and smiled with her cute, upside-down smile, encouraging me to continue.

  "Well, I, ah, I don't know what age you want to get married at – maybe eighteen, maybe later – but if you'd have me, I'd love to draw up a marriage contract with you now, stating that we’d get married at whatever age you choose," I said. At least, that's what I tried to say, 'cause I was only fifteen and as nervous as anything and I got tongue tied and stumbled all over the place.

  Nanako took my hand in hers and laughed. "I think there's a question hiding in there somewhere. So come on, you know me well enough to know I don't bite, so just go ahead and ask me. You know, all proper like." And she sat there, on the roof, watching me keenly.

  I took a deep breath and tried again. "Will you marry me, Nanako? I mean, you know, after we both turn eighteen, or at whatever age you wanna marry?"

  "Well of course I will, silly," she said with a laugh, "And you know, we don't have to wait 'till we're eighteen."

  "We don't?"

  "Nope. With our parents' and a magistrate's permission we're allowed to marry at sixteen."

  I was crestfallen. "That counts me out, then. There's no way I can get permission from my parents, with me being all the way out here and all."

  "In your case, you could get parental permission from a man who's been like a father to you," she suggested excitedly.

  "Councillor Okada!" I exclaimed, for the councillor had been like the father I'd always wished I'd had. He had taken me to archery lessons, on bushwalking treks, and he'd even taken time out of his evenings to teach me Japanese.

  "That's right," she said. "And if Councillor Okada gives you permission and my mother gives it to me, we could get married next week, on your sixteenth birthday."

  I looked at her then with a mixture of unbridled excitement and enthusiasm and large doses of nervousness. I had been thinking of two years in the future, so next week seemed so alarmingly close. Yet the thought of waking with her beside me every morning, of coming home to her after work every day, of being able to sleep together, filled me with irresistible anticipation. Besides, only having to wait ‘til next week sure beat waiting two more years. Not to mention that getting married at sixteen was the norm where I came from – for the girls, anyway.

  "Okay, let's do it!" I said at last.

  "Why don't you ask my mother for permission now?" she asked excitedly.

  "Okay," I replied dreamily, thinking I’d pop the question at dinner tomorrow night.

  "Well, why are you still here?" she asked, looking at me expectantly.
/>
  "Huh?"

  "Go ask her now."

  "What, right now?"

  "Yes."

  "This very instant?"

  "Yes."

  "Ah, okay, I mean. Wow! Right, I'm gonna do it," I said, finally catching on.

  So we climbed down from the roof and went into the house. I found Nanako's mother in the kitchen, washing the dishes. She must have guessed something was up from our expressions, for she put down the tea towel. And then, shaking from nervousness – in fact, I was more scared now than when I faced Skel in combat – I hesitantly asked Nanako's mother for her hand in marriage, and for her permission to do so on my birthday next week, the 25th of Feb.

  I don't know what Nanako's mother thought we were gonna ask her, but I could tell from her shocked, stunned reaction that it hadn't been that. Yet, as she stood there studying our hopeful faces, she broke into a broad smile and said yes – to both requests.

  After that, Nanako and I got so excited that we bounced around the kitchen holding hands and saying, "We're getting married!" over and over again.

  Our exuberant display woke Nanako's little brother and sister, and soon they were holding hands and bouncing around the kitchen alongside us, saying, "Nanako and Ethan are getting married!"...

  ..."We are almost there, Ethan," Madison said, jerking me out of my sleep and the memory.

  "What time is it?" I asked as I studied the night-time view out the Bushmaster's front windscreen. The Bushmaster's powerful headlights illuminated houses in various states of disrepair on our left side and wild, untamed bush on our right.

  Madison was still driving like a lunatic.

  "Almost two," she replied.

  Wow, 2.00am? I'd slept for almost four hours; I must have been truly exhausted. And the dream-memory had been so vivid, so real. I wished I could go back to the time of the dream, to two years ago, and relive my life from that point, but without making the same mistakes. For starter, I wouldn’t join the Rangers. However, that wouldn't have made any difference in the long run; we still couldn't have had children.

  One thing about the dream, though – since we'd gotten back together, Nanako kept asking me if I remembered why I'd asked her to marry me. Well, finally, I could answer her question. I'd asked her to marry me because I didn't want to miss out on spending my life with the most amazing and beautiful girl in the world. Yet now, as I pondered being able to answer her question at long last, there was no point in my doing so, because as much as I wanted to spend my life with her, I couldn't do so. For her sake, I had to let her go, for her sake I had to divorce her and get out of her life. The irony of this situation wasn't lost on me.

  "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, for 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 said, pointing 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 darted nimbly 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 to Skel territory to be their slaves, 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 snapped impatiently.

  "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 all the 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 just 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 spun 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.