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

by Peter R Stone

  “Watching a video of them dissect the corpse of my twin brother and store his genetically modified organs in glass jars did it for me,” I said.

  “Would you like to see the videos of these dissections? I can show you,” Bhagya said, indicating the computer behind us.

  “Show me,” Romy said, surprising me. Then I remembered that Suyin and Romy were only playing the part of good-girl/bad-girl. And that meant this was probably the first time I had seen Romy’s true face.

  “Don’t listen to them, Romy, they’re messing with your mind,” Suyin snapped.

  “No, that’s what Mr. Cho did when he placed you in the Round Room,” I said.

  “Enough! One more word from any of you and I’ll put a bullet in you. Now get downstairs!” the Chinese girl shouted.

  “I don’t know, Suyin, they’re making a lot of sense. I always thought the Round Room illuminated our minds, but what if it didn’t? What if we really have been brainwashed?” Romy said.

  “Keep this up and I’ll take you in too,” Suyin growled.

  Romy surprised me then by lifting her gun and pointing it at Suyin. “Put down your weapon, Sister. We’re going to watch one of those dissection video’s. Then we’ll know whether we’ve been brainwashed or not.”

  The diminutive Chinese girl seemed to consider Romy’s words, but then suddenly lashed out with a foot and kicked the gun from her hands. The Dutch girl didn’t miss a beat, though, springing forward to grapple with Suyin’s gun, pointing the barrel towards the roof. The weapon went off, stitching a line of holes in the plastic ceiling.

  I dived in to help, reaching for the gun too, but Suyin saw me coming and delivered a powerful sidekick to my midriff. I flew backwards, fighting for breath.

  With me out of the way, Suyin unleashed a flurry of alternating roundhouse kicks upon Romy’s ribs, trying to force her to relinquish her grip on the gun. The taller girl gritted her teeth and clung to the weapon as though her life depended on it, trying and failing to land a kick on Suyin.

  Ryan moved in now, snapping out a front jab followed by a right cross. Suyin took the jab on the side of the jaw and pulled her head back, causing the right cross to miss. Then she swivelled her hips and delivered a front kick to Ryan’s groin. As he folded over clutching his private parts, Suyin finally managed to twist her rifle out of Romy’s hands, after which she immediately smashed her in the face with it. The Dutch girl staggered back with blood spurting from a broken nose.

  Suyin trained the assault rifle on me since I had regained my feet and was about to re-enter the fray. However, a crossbow bolt flew past me and struck her in the middle of the chest before she could pull the trigger. The gun fell from her fingers as she staggered back and collapsed. “Bhagya?” she gasped, and fell still.

  Standing back from the rest of us, the slight Indian girl stood there with a Skel crossbow in her hands.

  Romy, one hand holding her bleeding nose, was at her friend’s side in an instant, checking her vitals. Unable to find a pulse, she hung her head, distraught.

  “Why did you have to kill her?” she wailed.

  Bhagya tossed the crossbow aside as though it was a poisonous snake and came to sit beside her sisters.

  “She was about to pop Chelsea, and besides, this was the only way to stop her reporting us to Mr. Cho.”

  “But–”

  “We have to stop the chancellor, Romy, we have to stop this virus from being released. Nothing else matters. You can see that, right?”

  Romy stared at her, trying to grasp what she was saying.

  I hurried over to the computer and quickly closed all the files we had opened about the breakout. That done, I pulled a grenade from my pocket.

  “You reckon we’ll set back the virus’ release date if we blow up their computers and research?” I pointed at the filing cabinets and computers.

  “We can’t risk releasing the virus, remember?” Ryan said as he climbed painfully to his feet.

  I pointed at the glass partition. A quick blast of flash sonar revealed it wasn’t just glass as I had supposed, but several layers of hardened transparent plastic and toughened glass. “One of your bullets hit it before and it just bounced off.”

  Bhagya went closer to the partition and after studying it with flash sonar, nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It’s bulletproof and bomb proof. The hand grenades won’t even dint it.”

  “Right, let’s do it and get out of here before more Specialists or Custodians arrive,” Ryan said, producing a couple of grenades.

  “What about Suyin?” Romy asked, tears sliding down her cheeks.

  Ryan knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll tell Mr. Cho we teamed up with you two and attacked the Skel and Rangers together, and that the Rangers set off a booby trap when they saw they couldn’t win. We four got out by the skin of our teeth.”

  Romy didn’t like leaving her friend’s body there, but saw the merit in Ryan’s suggestion. So she and Bhagya quit the room and hurried down the stairs. Ryan and I then placed our hand grenades in close proximity to the lab’s computers and filling cabinets. Pulling the pins in quick succession, we darted from the room and into the stairwell, only just managing to get off the landing when the grenades went off.

  All the same, the force of the explosion was still sufficient to sweep us off our feet and slam me headfirst into the wall, giving me a knock on the head that sent my senses reeling. I was vaguely aware of Ryan reaching out to catch me before everything went dark.

  I came to a moment later, suffering from a horrific headache and feeling so lightheaded that I needed Ryan’s help to get down the stairs.

  “You’ve got a concussion,” he said, his arm locked securely around my waist. “We need to get you to hospital and get an X-ray. Romy too – she needs that nose examined.”

  “Right, but we have to do something else first. Hey, wait up, everyone,” I called out.

  Bhagya and Romy, who were several steps farther down, ceased their descent and looked up. “What is it?” the Indian girl asked.

  I gripped Ryan’s arm. “Hand me over to Bhagya, Ryan. I need you to make a phone call – the one in the foyer should still be working, otherwise use the one in Mr. Cho’s office.”

  “What, now? It’s like five in the morning – who do you want me to call?”

  Feeling myself slipping towards unconsciousness, I spoke quickly, telling him what I wanted him to do. After that, I faded into a state of oblivion.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  When I came to sometime later, I was lying in a hospital bed in North End’s prestigious hospital, my head swathed in thick white bandages. Ryan and Bhagya brought Romy and me here after the Skel called off their attack and pulled out of town. I found out later that they quit the town minutes after Ethan Jones and Captain Smithson’s unit wiped out the Skel trying to blow up the submarine.

  Sadly, the Skel left untold devastation in their wake. Two dozen citizens – mostly women – were missing, presumably taken away as Skel slaves. Several buildings had been bombed or set on fire, and dozens of Custodians were injured or killed. It was Newhome’s darkest hour.

  Bhagya reported later that Mr. Cho, Dr. Jeong, and the rest of the councillors and geneticists appeared most distraught when they emerged from hiding and learned of the damage done to the top floor of the lab. From what she could fathom, the grenades had set back their research somewhat. I hoped our actions would delay the release of the virus by several years.

  As soon as the doctors deemed me fit enough to be interviewed, Mr. Cho came to my room, pulled up a chair, and asked for my report. I told him how Jazza and his boys kept me captive in an underground hospital storeroom, and that I only managed to escape when Stefan tried to rape me. I didn’t mention Mehmet’s involvement, lest they put two and two together.

  I shared how Stefan told me the details of the Underground movement’s plans while he was loosening my bonds so he could try to have his way with me. And how the assault on the
lab was a result of the Patriot sending a message to the Rangers, telling them something untoward was going on in the Genetics Laboratory. I left out everything about Bhagya, of course.

  That sent Mr. Cho into an uncharacteristic rage, springing out of the chair to pace up and down beside my bed. He vowed he would turn every building in Newhome upside down, leaving no stone unturned until the Patriot was found.

  That was when I dropped the bombshell. “I know who he is.”

  He looked at me, mouth agape. “Really? Well, come on then.”

  “It’s Mr. Fenton, the PE teacher.”

  “You told me previously that he was just the leader of his resistance cell.”

  “That’s what he wanted us to think, and it was the perfect cover. There we all were, thinking some mysterious man known as the Patriot was using Mr. Fenton to pass his messages back and forth between him and the movement’s members, when all along it was him.”

  “Stefan told me – bragged about it, actually. Said he put all the pieces together and worked out it was him.”

  “And you believed him?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Sir, I did.”

  “Right then, time to round up Fenton and the members of his cell,” Mr. Cho said, striding purposefully from the room.

  As I watched him go, I couldn’t help but feel a modicum of guilt, knowing I’d just sentenced Mr. Fenton and the rest of the members of his resistance cell to life imprisonment, or worse. On the other hand, by allying themselves with the Rangers, and through them the Skel, they had brought this upon themselves.

  * * *

  One week later, discharged from hospital and back in my Brandon persona, I paused before a wooden door that was in serious need of repainting. Ryan stood beside me, decked out in his teacher’s attire, though with his pistol tucked in the back of his pants.

  “Sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” he asked.

  I shook my head, twisted the doorknob and strode into a small office crowded with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves jam-packed with books covering every conceivable aspect of biology, especially the field of genetics.

  A short, bald man sat at a desk pressed up against the window that overlooked a small garden. He turned and frowned when he saw me. “What are you doing here, Chelsea, you know that’s against our movement’s rules to meet each other except at sanctioned meetings,” Patrick Tori said.

  “Seems I got it right about Mr. Fenton,” I said, meeting his steely gaze squarely.

  “That’s what you came to talk about? Must admit, though, that it came as quite a shock that he was the Patriot.”

  “I’m not talking about that.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “I made a wager with myself that Mr. Fenton would react in a particular way when I asked Ryan to ring him the night of the Skel attack and pass on a simple message,” I said.

  “And what message was that?”

  “That if he didn’t admit he was the Patriot – and do so convincingly – I’d reveal the identity of the real Patriot to the Custodians.”

  “What are you trying to say,” Tori asked, frowning. “That Fenton’s not the Patriot?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Why did you force him to take the fall for him, then? Was it to save your own skin because Mr. Cho needed to pin the blame for the Skel attack on someone, and you had no idea who the real Patriot was?”

  “I didn’t force Mr. Fenton to take the fall to save my skin, I did it to save yours – because as much as I hate to say this, we need you,” I snapped.

  “Now you’ve really lost me.”

  “You see,” I continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “I would have turned you into the Custodians without batting an eyelid except for the fact it’s going to take the Underground and Freehome movements working together to overthrow the chancellor and his regime before he can release the virus.”

  “You’re not making sense. The Custodians arrested all the members of the Underground movement along with Fenton last week,” Tori said, shifting in his chair.

  “Far from it. I overheard Fenton saying there were several other cells, and that the Patriot – you – are the only one who knows who they are.”

  “What are you blabbing about, girl? I’m not the Patriot.”

  “I made the connection the night of the Skel attack. I recalled Carver quoting you word for word when he said ‘collateral damage, a casualty of war.’”

  Tori laughed. “That’s a well known and commonly used expression.”

  “The day after I started attending school, both Dylan and Jazza’s groups knew who I was and that I had genetically enhancing hearing. The only people Ryan told about me where the members of the Freehome group. As soon as that meeting was over, you told your Underground members who I was.”

  “That’s conjecture, Chelsea. One of Dylan’s group must have told them who you were – it certainly wasn’t me,” Tori replied.

  I stepped closer. “You think you’re so clever, Patrick Tori. You honestly thought no one would put the play on your name together? Pat Tori, an anagram for Patriot.”

  That got him, right between the eyes. “So you worked it out, so what?”

  “As I said, Freehome needs your help to overthrow the chancellor. However, it’s going to be done our way, not yours – the Underground isn’t even allowed to sneeze without our permission. There will be no more contact with the Rangers, no assassinations, no bombings, no poisonings. And you will reveal the identities of all your members to Freehome’s leadership.” I drummed the words out like hammering nails into a coffin.

  “You’re an idiot if think you Freehomers can dictate how the Underground runs its affairs,” Tori spat.

  “You’re going to do exactly what you’re told,” I assured him flatly.

  “And how do you figure that?”

  “You’ve got a daughter, right?”

  His eyes widened slightly.

  “Intellectually disabled,” I continued.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “She’s being raised by your mother. In secret.”

  “Seriously, I have no idea what you’re on about.”

  I took a Custodian-issued radio from my pocket. “I just need to buzz Custodian HQ and they’ll pick her up in moments. You and your mother will face lengthy prison sentences for concealing her as well.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” he practically shrieked, leaping from his chair to face me.

  “Give me your word the Underground will submit to Freehome’s directives and leadership and this goes back into my pocket.” I stared down at him without a hint of emotion.

  “My handicapped daughter is the very epitome of what we’re fighting for, Chelsea. You won’t turn her in – they’ll euthanize her,” he declared confidently.

  “You tried to kill me, Tori! Laced my drink with cyanide!” I shouted in his face. “You had your boys kidnap me and shove a dirty cloth halfway down my throat! And your association with the Rangers almost led to the complete destruction of this town! Go ahead, refuse to submit, and your daughter will be collateral damage, a casualty of war.”

  “You’re a monster!” he snarled, before spitting in my face.

  I wiped my face clean with a tissue, and indicated the radio in my hand. “If I’m a monster, it’s because you turned me into one.”

  “Fine! The Underground movement will submit to Freehome’s leadership. Now get out!”

  I turned and strode from the room, giving a thumbs up to Ryan when I rejoined him.

  “You get all that?” I asked.

  He nodded and tapped the digital recorder in his pocket and wire in his ear. It was his idea to give me a wire so we could record everything Tori said, just in case we needed to use it against him one day.

  We walked slowly out of the university. I was flooded with relief that Tori fell for my bluff. There was no way in the world I would turn in his handicapped daughter. Not if it meant the Underground blew up h
alf the town, not even if it meant the chancellor’s evil plan came to fruition and every non-Korean male in the world was rendered infertile. That was because he was right – the lives of disabled children like his daughter were the very things we were fighting for.

  * * *

  “You think Mr. Li’s the best man for the job?” I asked Ryan. We were killing time on the school roof during lunch break. I was sitting on one of the long wooden benches, hugging my knees to my chest.

  “Mal didn’t want to be Freehome’s new leader, and that makes him the perfect candidate. Means he doesn’t have any ulterior motives,” Ryan said.

  Discovering the group’s previous leader was the Patriot shocked the other Freehome members to the core. That he was willingly complying with our demands to hand over the list of his members and submit to our group’s authority surprised them almost as much. I didn’t tell them how I achieved that, lest any of them think there was the slightest chance I would have gone through with my threat.

  “He realises the group’s plan of replacing the Custodians over several years is no longer viable, right? We have to act soon, or it will be too late. For everyone.”

  Ryan nodded. “He’s well aware of the virus and the threat it poses, and the time frame in which we have to topple the government before they can release it.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “What about you lot – the Specialists? If we can get the rest of you girls on our side, you may well be the edge we need to achieve our goal.”

  “Romy and Bhagya are on it. It won’t be easy, though. The brainwashing runs pretty deep. One wrong step and they’ll turn us in.”

  “How’s Romy coping?”

  “We haven’t been able to show her the dissection videos yet. The lab’s still in a state of lockdown while they repair the damage from the explosions. She’s getting there, though.”

  A smile suddenly framed his handsome face.