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

by Peter R Stone

  We dropped our bags on the concrete in front of us, and I went through the motions of moaning in pain while crouching down, holding my stomach.

  Their search of the other foraging team complete, Sergeant King and his goons headed ominously towards us. I was out of time.

  Doubling over, I put my hands over my mouth like I’d seen others do when they were about to vomit, but surreptitiously stuck a finger down the back of my throat at the same time. My stomach heaved and I threw up all over Ryan’s bag.

  “Oh, man! Couldn’t you have aimed that somewhere else?” Ryan jumped back, fuming.

  “Ew, gross,” Matt said as he, Jack and Con stumbled quickly away.

  The sergeant and his companion kept their distance from me and grimaced.

  “That had better not be contagious,” King snarled.

  “Just spent two days in bed with it,” Ryan said.

  The sergeant swore. “Then get your behind out of here, Thomas! And wash that blasted bag before you go!”

  With one hand clutching my stomach, I grabbed the befouled backpack and shuffled towards the large doors leading into the warehouse.

  “Go with him, Private. Check the contents of the bag when it’s clean,” King said to one of his men.

  “Me?” the Custodian asked, face ashen.

  “Go!”

  The private came after me, but left as big a gap between us as he possibly could. No one wanted to catch viral gastroenteritis.

  Passing into the warehouse, I shambled past piles of neatly stacked piles of wood until I reached a steel drinking trough. Keeping my back to the Custodian, I turned the tap beside the trough and washed away the vomit. At the same time, I quickly unzipped the bag and stuffed my hand inside. Finding two DVD cases at the bottom, I drew them out and quickly shoved them into the narrow gap between the trough and the wall. Not much of a hiding place, but it would have to do. I would come back later and throw them somewhere no one could find them.

  The bag clean, I turned around and tipped its contents on the ground.

  “Yeah, yeah, that’ll do. Now get to sickbay,” the Custodian said, refusing to come any closer.

  Leaving the bag and its contents on the ground, I made my way slowly to the grossly ill-equipped sickbay below the boss’ office.

  The room was small – just wide enough for a fold-up cot, six-foot tall medicine cabinet, chair, sink, and toilet at the far end of the room. I washed my hands and face, and lay on the bed, feigning illness.

  Now that the whole affair was over, my pulse started to come back to earth. I exhaled a large sigh of relief – my plan worked – Ryan was safe! On the other hand, I was sure Con saw right through my little act, so I wasn’t looking forward to our next meeting.

  Turned out I didn’t have to wait long.

  Ten minutes later Con stormed into the sickbay like a bull at a gate, with Matt and a very concerned Jack trailing behind.

  “What did you think you were doing, you stupid punk!” He grabbed me by the collar and in one smooth action, hauled me off the cot and slammed me into the metal medicine cabinet. Glass bottles rattled and tinkled inside.

  I met his fury with my own. “Thought you could pull off a stunt like that without me noticing, did you?”

  “You idiot! This was our best chance to get that jerk out of the picture so he couldn’t stumble onto our preparations for the breakout.” He stuck forehead right against the brim of my cap. I could make out every pore on his greasy skin. “Not to mention how much effort it took to set it up. You got any idea how much it cost me personally to get the Custodians here today?”

  Sick of being bullied by this murderous doofus, I grabbed his collar and shoved him back. “I told you time and again that he’s not an informer, but you won’t listen, will you?”

  “Look here, you arrogant little prat–”

  “No, you listen. You pull a stunt like that again, or harm a single hair on his head, I’ll turn us all in. You hear me?”

  Con’s grip on my collar slackened and he fell back, shocked beyond measure. Even Matt and Jack cried out in dismay. For I’d just threatened the four of us with execution.

  “What the blazes has gotten into you?” Con said as he shoved me into the medicine cabinet again. “You off your rocker?”

  “Don’t you get it, guys?” I took in all three of them as I answered. “We blew it big time with Dan. Ain’t no way I’m letting us do that again.”

  Con glanced at the others and drew back a fist. “I’m gonna smash some sense into him.”

  Jack rushed forward, alarmed. Matt just watched.

  “You sleeping well these days, Con?” I asked. The fist stopped inches from my face.

  “What?”

  “’Cause I’m not. If I even manage to get to sleep, I’m plagued by horrific nightmares haunted by Dan. By his shock at my betrayal, his broken body, and now his mother asking how I could have done such a dastardly thing.”

  “We made a mistake!” he barked.

  “Yes, we did! And I’m trying to stop us making another one! For Dan’s sake, and for ours.”

  “Brandon’s got a point.” Jack nodded his head, casting a pleading look at Con.

  “Matt?” I said.

  “Don’t rake me into this.”

  “How’s your conscience at the moment? You sleeping okay?”

  He turned away, unable to meet my gaze.

  “I thought so.” I turned back to Con. “You gotta stop thinking that everything I do is a challenge to your authority.”

  “Think you’re smart, don’t you?” he snarled. “Well you’re not. You’re just a stupid kid who’s grown too big for his own boots. From here on, you’d better watch your step or I’ll smash you to a pulp with the slightest provocation.” With that he stormed from the room. Matt rushed after him, but Jack remained.

  “Be careful around him, mate. I don’t know what’s come over you these days.”

  “You think it might be from those images of Dan’s broken face that I can't get out of my mind?”

  “I hear you, but just back off from Con a bit, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Try harder.” He gave me a half-hearted smile and raced after the others.

  Not wanting to bump into them again, I waited ten minutes, popped upstairs to see the boss to collect my pay, and headed home.

  I got quite the surprise, though, when I stepped out of the yard and found Ryan leaning against the fence, waiting for me. I noticed he didn’t have his backpack.

  “You owe me new bag. And a water bottle. And a lunchbox.” He pushed off from the wall and fell into step beside me.

  “Sorry about that. Your bag was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What did you do with it?”

  “Didn’t do anything with it. You can throw it in the bin on Monday.” He didn’t look the least bit impressed.

  “Do I have to?”

  “ Yes. You feeling bit better now?”

  “Still sore, but there’s nothing left to bring up.” I considered telling him the truth so he could watch out for them trying something like this again. On the other hand, he would probably go straight to Con and have it out with him. As that scenario could have fatal results, I decided I’d better keep it to myself for now.

  “You think you caught it from me?” he asked.

  “Must have.”

  “Really? The fact is, I didn’t have gastro. Just ate something past its useby date that evening.” He stopped and pulled me to face him, studying me intently.

  “Must have picked it up from somewhere else, then,” I said.

  “Can you drop the charade?” The tone of voice jarred me to the bone. “I know what you did, and why. The other three were trying to frame me. When I went to fetch my bag – more specifically – my house keys that were in it, I had a little hunt around. Imagine my surprise in finding two porn DVDs shoved into a gap behind the water trough. DVDs which I quickly disposed of before King works out what you did.”

  I
sighed. “You sure you’re not a detective?”

  “This isn’t a joke, Brandon. Why didn’t you tell me the truth in the first place?”

  “You mean like this? Oh, by the way, Ryan, the others slipped contraband into your bag ‘cause they don’t like you and want you off the team.”

  “Why don’t they like me, Brandon? What have I ever done to them?”

  I didn’t reply.

  “Don’t go all silent on me, mate. If their little stunt had worked, they would have done more than get me off the team. I would have lost my job, been fined, and been thrown in prison. Now talk to me.”

  “They...they think you’re a Custodian informer.” My voice came out as a whisper. Why did I feel guilty, as though I’d just betrayed a confidence? I owed those three nothing!

  Ryan burst into a spontaneous bout of laughter. Tears even came to his eyes. “You serious?”

  I nodded.

  His mood suddenly darkened. “Why does that worry them, Brandon? They must be doing something illegal and they’re afraid I’ll find out.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what they’re afraid of.” I didn’t sound particularly convincing.

  “Going by those porn DVDs, I’m guessing they smuggle contraband into town. But if that’s the case, so what? Everyone knows the foragers smuggle in illicit items. No one else could do it. That’s why the Custodians keep doing those random spot checks.”

  “Makes sense.” But I refused to give anything away. Especially since I smuggled in contraband too.

  “So I reckon there’s something bigger going on.” Brandon grabbed my chin and yanked my head up so our eyes met. So glad the cap covered my birthmark. “Could this have something to do with Dan Smith’s accident?”

  “What do you mean?” My pulse just about doubled. What was with this guy and his guesses?

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened to him, Brandon? The accident was due to someone’s negligence, wasn’t it? And you’re all covering it up to avoid the consequences.”

  I searched out his eyes as I replied. “I wasn’t there when it happened, Ryan. And that’s the truth.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Loading something into the truck. I heard a lot of shouting and rushed back to find a wall had fallen on Dan.”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  I whacked his hand away from my chin. “I’m telling the truth, I didn’t see it!”

  “Fine, I believe you. But you know something you’re not telling me. Look, I’m not mad with you, okay? You just saved me – again. I know you are an honest, decent bloke. But I don’t trust Con, Matt and Jack as far as I can throw them.”

  I just nodded.

  “There’s something I want you to think about.”

  “What?” I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “I know those guys are your friends, and have been for some time, but if their negligence caused Dan’s death, or if Dan met foul play at their hands, you’ve got to report it.”

  “Like you did?” I spoke harshly, fully aware it was the right thing to do, but couldn’t do it because of what it would cost my family.

  “Yes.”

  “But look what it cost you – your job and all your friends,” I said.

  “It was worth it. And friends like that were no friends at all. A true friend is someone who stays with you through thick and thin. Someone who puts others first.”

  Overpowering emotions of frustration, grief, and rage rose up within me, threatening to boil over. I turned away so I could get them under control.

  He placed his hand gently on my shoulder. “I’m not going to force you to do this, I just want you to think about it, okay?”

  I shrugged his hand off. “I...I gotta go.” My wage was burning a hole through my pocket. I had to get home as soon as possible in case Deacon and Wells turned up. The odds were they were already waiting outside the homeless shelter.

  “I’ll be at the gym after seven if you want to talk more later.”

  “Think about.” I gave him a perfunctory nod and rushed off.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The thugs didn’t show, and I was too afraid to go to their snooker club come illegal-gambling den to look for them. Keeping my money with me in case I bumped into them on the way, I popped over to the gym and worked out with Ryan. He even offered to teach me some combat moves, but I wasn’t interested. I was not going to fight them.

  To my relief, he didn’t press me anymore about what happened to Dan Smith, but let me know he hadn’t forgotten the issue by raising an eyebrow.

  We quit the gym when curfew approached and headed outside into the night air. The sun had just set, painting the low hanging clouds hues of deep pink and purple. Daylight was fading rapidly as dusk took hold of the gloomy streets.

  I bid Ryan farewell and took two steps towards home when I saw Deacon and his brutal sidekick step out from behind a hedgerow. They strode towards us with murder in their eyes. An ugly black and purple bruise adorned Well’s jaw, thanks to Ryan.

  I looked back at Ryan, eyes wide with fear. “Don’t get involved.”

  “No way, buddy.” He came and stood beside me, muscles tense and fists clenched.

  “Just go! You’re gonna make it worse if you stay!” I tried to push him away with my left hand, but it was like trying to push over an oak tree.

  My tormentors came closer. Face contorted with rage, Wells slipped his hand inside his jacket.

  Afraid he was reaching for a gun, I pulled out the money and threw it at his feet. “Here, take it!”

  The tall ruffian stepped over the proffered money and withdrew a homemade spring-powered gun from his jacket. In one practised movement, he aimed it at Ryan’s chest and fired.

  “No!” I shrieked as I flung myself in front of my friend.

  A six-inch long, frightfully sharp metal rod pierced my chest between the collarbone and shoulder. Excruciating pain beyond anything I’d experienced exploded through me and I collapsed back into Ryan’s arms, writhing in agony.

  “You shot the wrong one, fool!” Deacon berated Wells.

  “Idiot jumped in the way!” Wells replied.

  “Quick, let’s get out of here before the Custodians show up,” Deacon said. Their footsteps receded rapidly.

  Ryan laid me gently on the sidewalk.

  “What did you do that for?” he asked sternly. I was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

  “I couldn’t let them shoot you,” I said between clenched teeth. I gingerly explored the part of the spike that protruded from my chest, but regretted it instantly when the briefest touch sent more waves of pain.

  “Don’t touch, it’s in too deep!” He gently but firmly moved my hand away. “Do you think you can walk if I help you up? I need to get you back inside so I can call an ambulance.”

  Bitting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out, I threw my right arm around his neck and he helped me regain my feet. The slightest weight or movement on my left arm sent more pain lancing through me, so I used my right hand to put my left in my pocket.

  “Just help me get home,” I said.

  “Don’t be absurd, you need a doctor to get that thing out,” he replied.

  “No doctors – my mother will know what to do.”

  “You need proper medical care, mate.”

  I gripped his arm tightly with my free hand. “I said no! Please, take me home.”

  “If I take you to that disease-ridden dump you live in, the wound will get infected and you’ll get blood poisoning. That’s if your mother can even get the spike out.”

  “Ryan – I can’t go to the hospital!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if I do, they’ll discover something about me that will get me into a world of trouble.”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s…private.”

  Ryan sighed in exasperation. “Okay, fine. I believe you have a really good reason not to go, but I don't think you hav
e much choice. Let me at least take you to my father. He’s a doctor, remember? I’m sure he will agree to a vow of patient confidentiality.”

  “Sorry, still won’t do. I have to go home.” I shook off his hand and started staggering down the street. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other while fighting off the pain that exploded with each step. Staying conscious was becoming quite a challenge.

  Ryan hurried after me and stood directly in my path.

  “Chelsea, please, let me help you. You can trust me. And my father,” he whispered.

  Chelsea? He called me Chelsea!

  “You...you know who I am?” My mouth hung open in shocked disbelief.

  “Of course.”

  “But...how long have you known?” I couldn’t believe that after all my efforts, Ryan worked out who I really was.

  “Took me a while to figure it out, but you left a trail of breadcrumbs that gave it away if I looked closely enough. Now come on, let’s just get you home. We’ll talk more later.”

  It was only a ten-minute walk to Ryan’s place, but it felt like an eternity – a pain-filled, never ending nightmare of forcing myself to walk when all I wanted to do was lie down and succumb to the pain. We tried to steer clear of the few people we encountered on the way, otherwise Ryan walked in front of me so they couldn’t see my blood stained hoodie and the spike sticking out of my chest.

  His family lived on the first floor of an apartment block, which was fortunate. An elevator ride would have been too much.

  “Almost there,” Ryan said. He spoke gently, revealing a side of him I hadn’t seen before. He was quite the gentleman.

  We reached a door sporting a fresh coat of paint. Entering the apartment, he helped me to a single-seat sofa and I melted into the soft cushion with a groan. Through a haze of pain, I noticed that although the unit was the same layout as my old one, his family had set it up in reverse. The furniture was also much newer, or at least kept in better condition. Someone here also had a flair for interior decoration, with embroidered curtains, oil paintings with muted colours that complemented the curtains, even vases with fresh flowers on the table and buffet-and-hutch.

  Ryan’s father was reading a newspaper on a sofa on the other side of the room, but stood and rushed over in alarm when he caught sight of me. I could see the family resemblance, the broad shoulders, eyes, and angular face. He still had a full head of hair, although grey shot through with white.