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

by Peter R Stone

  “What did you say?” Chelsea asked, shocked.

  “I’ll explain later. People, form up and advance back to reception. Fire to wound, not kill – let ’em know they’re surrounded.”

  Weapons ready, white armbands displayed prominently on our right arms, we formed up in the corridor and headed back towards reception. As we went, we sent short bursts of gunfire towards the hostile Custodians defending against Smithson’s newly arrived forces. We stopped near the entrance to reception, not wanting to risk entering in case Cho’s group was still in the control room.

  A strong voice cut through the night air. It was Smithson, speaking through a megaphone.

  “Cease fire!” he bellowed.

  The stutter and roar of assault gunfire stopped, leaving an eerie silence that seemed completely out of place.

  “This is Captain Smithson of Delta Company. You are surrounded and outnumbered. Lay down your weapons, gather your wounded, and come outside. This is your only warning.”

  One, then a group, and soon all the enemy Custodians did as he ordered. They gave up their arms and helped their injured but still mobile comrades out into the street, where they were intercepted by men of Delta Company.

  “Hey, did the Cho and the Custodians in the control room surrender too?” Madison asked.

  “Didn’t see them,” I said.

  “I’ll check,” Shorty said. He took several steps to the end of the corridor and stuck his through the open door, peeking to his left. He jerked his head back just as quickly. “They’re still in there, taking cover behind a desk.”

  My phone rang.

  “You’ve got trouble, Jones,” Aika said.

  “Explain.”

  “A column of six Bushmasters just left North End and is headed straight for the HQ.”

  “Can you hit them?

  “I’m only getting glimpses of them – too many buildings. They’re going pretty fast, too.”

  “Right. Let me know the moment you get an opportunity.”

  “On it. Ken, we’re up!” Aika said as she dropped the call.

  This wasn’t good. Just when I thought we’d won the battle for the HQ, the chancellor had to go and throw an armoured column at us. If the vehicles were carrying several squads from Gamma Company, we could be in real trouble.

  I quickly dialled the captain.

  “Jones?” Smithson replied.

  “You arrived just in time, Smithson. We owe you big time. But there’s a problem – six Bushmasters are on the way.”

  “We don’t have any weapons that can take out a Bushmaster,” he said. “Their roof-mounted machine guns will give us major grief.”

  “I’ve got an ace up my sleeve that may fix the problem. Pull back and don’t engage unless I give you the signal.”

  “Roger, withdrawing.”

  Delta Company and the captive Custodians disappeared quickly back into the darkness on the other side of the road. We were only half way down the corridor when the deep roar of several Bushmasters’ engines sounded in the street outside. Deadly streams of bullets hosed both sides of the street and reception as their gunners lay down a withering covering fire.

  “Hit the floor!” Madison said.

  We all lay on the floor, and just in time, too. Bullets whizzed over our heads and smashed into corridor walls, creating small puffs of plaster.

  When the gunfire ceased, I stood cautiously and peeked down the corridor, hoping to see what was going on in reception. I expected to see dozens of Gamma Company Custodians rush inside, but what I saw instead was a solitary Custodian and Anna assisting a weakened but conscious General Cho towards the waiting vehicles. One squad of dismounted Gamma Company Custodians waited for them, guns ready.

  “This isn’t an assault – it’s a rescue mission!” I said.

  “Cho?” Chelsea asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We have to stop him!”

  “Trying!” I hurried back to reception with Madison and Ryan on my heels. We were about to take a shot at Cho, but a stream of bullets from the lead Bushmaster sent us back to the floor.

  I called Aika. “What can you see?”

  “Only the rearmost vehicle – the rest are out of sight.”

  “Toast it.”

  “Got it. Incoming.”

  “Cover your ears,” I said to my companions.

  I pressed my palms over my own ears, and not a moment too soon. There was a tremendously loud explosion as the Javelin missile fired by Aika hit the rear Bushmaster. The ground shook while wreckage and debris from the destroyed vehicle battered the HQ, blowing in reception’s windows and causing a hail of glass and bricks from the higher floors to rain down on the street.

  “Bam!” Shorty slammed a small fist into his hand.

  “Scratch one Bushmaster. Others are not visible from this location,” Aika reported.

  My ears were ringing, but I could just make out the sound of Bushmasters engines roaring into life. Standing to risk another look, I saw the remaining five vehicles drive off, no doubt including Cho and Anna.

  “What was that?” Chelsea asked, her face ashen.

  “Anti-tank missile,” I said.

  “Missile? You said you didn’t bring any bombs!”

  “We didn’t. It was an anti-tank missile.” I returned my attention to Aika. “If you get another chance to shoot at the Bushmasters as they pass through the industrial zone on the way back to North End, take it.”

  “Will do.”

  “No! Aika, cancel that order! You’ll blow up half the town!” Chelsea shouted at my earpiece. She grabbed my arm and pulled me around to face her. “Anti-tank missile, bomb – what’s the difference?”

  “Big difference – but don’t worry, we won’t use it against targets in the residential areas.” Standing up, I made my way cautiously into reception. The room lay in ruins now; the front left corner, including the exterior wall, had been blow apart. Bullet holes riddled everything else, even the ceiling. Wounded and dead Custodians from both sides littered the floor and the street outside.

  “Ethan, no more missiles! What if you kill civilians or accidentally hit the Genetics Laboratory and release the virus?” Chelsea said as she hurried after me angrily.

  I spun around to face her. “As I said, we won’t use it near residential areas, but reality check, Chelsea - you want Cho to get away?”

  “I don’t want him dead. I want him taken alive so we can put him on trial when this is all over. You hearing me, Jones? Call off Aika! Now!”

  Jones? That was the first time Chelsea called me anything other than my first name. That meant I was about to cross a line I should not cross. Not wanting to alienate one of the resistance movement’s leaders, I figured I’d better comply.

  “Stand down, Aika. Locals say the missile caused too much collateral damage,” I said.

  “Standing down.” A pause, then, “Ken says you’re a wuss.”

  I could imagine Ken sitting behind Aika, ready to load more Javelin missiles into the launch tube on her shoulder, shaking his head disapprovingly.

  Chelsea was still glowering at me. “I’ll be telling Mal about this.”

  “You want to be free of the chancellor?” I spoke coldly, not impressed by her continued protestations. “It’s not something that can be done in half measures. Do you know how lucky we are that they didn’t send in those Bushmasters when Delta Company came to rescue us? If they had, there’d be a lot of dead friendlies out there now.”

  “Why didn’t they do that, then?”

  “They weren’t expecting Delta Company to switch sides. Besides, they need the Bushmasters for when they quit town. Now that they know we can destroy them, they’ll think twice about using them against us again. That’s gotta be good, yeah?”

  “I’m still telling Mal.”

  My phone buzzed.

  “Is HQ secure?” Smithson asked.

  “Yes, all hostiles are down or have surrendered. Unfortunately, Cho got away in the Bushmasters.
He’s wounded, though,” I said.

  “No matter, I have a feeling we’ll see him again soon. I’m sending in medics, and ambulances and paramedics are on the way. Once the wounded have been tended to, I’ll come in.”

  Calling my team together, I instructed them to enter reception and provide first aid to the severely wounded until we could hand them over to the paramedics.

  Seeing that Madison was planning to help, I reached out a hand to stop her. “How ‘bout you sit and pretend like you’re wounded and need first aid too? You’re as white as a sheet. Well, you know, except for the side of your face. That’s a different colour entirely.”

  “You’re a regular riot, Jones.”

  “I know, now sit!”

  Madison sagged onto the floor with a sigh and rested her head in her hands.

  “You want me to get those splinters out?” Nanako asked, turning the side of my face towards her with her slim, gentle fingers.

  “Better clean her up first. And check her other wound too.” I indicated Madison with a flick of my head.

  Nanako squatted next to her, opened her med kit, and got to work cleaning the gash on her forehead.

  Looking for someone to help, I found a hostile Custodian bleeding profusely from a bullet wound in his thigh. I cut strips off his trousers and applied a tourniquet before pressing down on the wound.

  “Did you know about Delta Company coming to our aid tonight?” Chelsea asked. She was kneeling beside an unconscious man who lay on his side next to a table, checking his pulse. Confirming he had one, she put him in the casualty position.

  “Of course.”

  “It didn’t occur to you to share that little piece of information with us? I thought this was a suicide mission.”

  “Couldn’t risk the information getting out.”

  “Well, considering there’s a traitor in our organisation somewhere, you made the right call.”

  “I know who it is,” I said.

  “Who?” chorused several voices.

  “Anna Georgiou.”

  “No way!” Chelsea protested.

  Bhagya looked at me sharply from where she was applying a field dressing to a Custodian’s shoulder.

  “Jones is right,” Shorty said. “She’s was in the control room with Cho. Would’ve taken my head off if Jones didn’t bump me out of the way.”

  “I saw her too,” one of the Armbands said, scowling.

  “But that’s not possible – Bhagya scanned her, remember? She passed with flying colours,” Chelsea said.

  I met Bhagya’s intense, worried gaze. “Seems she found a way to fool our resident living lie detector.”

  “How can that be, Bhagya? You said you can always tell if someone’s lying,” Ryan said.

  “What if they’re a pathological liar?” Nanako said. “For them, lying feels right and telling the truth feels uncomfortable. If you scanned one of them you would conclude they were telling the truth when they were lying.”

  “That possible, Bhagya? Could Anna be a pathological liar? Did she trick you?” Ryan asked.

  “I...I don’t know,” she replied.

  “Don’t take it personally, Bhagya. No technique is a hundred-percent reliable,” Madison said.

  Finished cleaning the blood off Madison’s face, Nanako applied an antiseptic ointment and wrapped a bandage around her head. That done, she returned to my side and produced a pair of tweezers. Getting the splinters out hurt more than when they went in.

  We didn’t have to wait long for someone to help with the wounded. Now that the column of Bushmasters had departed, Delta Company returned and sent its medics to attend to the injured Custodians lying in the street. Ambulances arrived not long after that. Some Paramedics stabilised, treated the wounded, and then took them to the hospital. Others collected the dead, bagged them, and placed them in a neat row in the street. That sobering view brought tears to my eyes and caused my heart to ache even though many if not most of those men had bullied, terrorised, and committed various other crimes against the town’s population.

  However, to my profound relief, there were not as many fatalities as I feared. One reason was that the Custodians all wore body armour; the other was that so many surrendered. All the same, there were a great many wounded. The town’s hospital would be overflowing tonight.

  * * *

  Standing amid the shattered, bullet-riddled ruins of reception, my teammates and I – Nanako, David, Leigh, and Shorty – watched as paramedics loaded our liberated family members into waiting ambulances. I wanted to go with my family and sit by their side in hospital until dawn, but I didn’t have the time to spare. The job to set Newhome free from the chancellor had only just begun, and we couldn’t stop now.

  As the ambulances’ glowing red taillights disappeared into the poorly lit streets, I recalled the announcement Captain Smithson made from the HQ’s control room radio half an hour ago. It was a speech that put an end to the infighting amongst the Custodians in Newhome Proper. I wondered if it would be remembered as the moment that marked the official beginning of the revolution.

  “This is Captain Smithson speaking from Custodian HQ, which is now under my control,” he had begun. “I have in my possession arrest warrants for the chancellor and all government officials. They will be charged for creating an unlawful dictatorship that denied the town citizens their rights to enjoy social and political freedom and equality. I hereby order all Custodians in the field to either stand down and return to the HQ or otherwise return home to await further instructions.”

  About half the remaining Custodians returned to base after that to turn in their weapons. The rest must have gone to their homes.

  Mal Li made his way over to me, accompanied by Captain Smithson, Chelsea, and Ryan.

  “Good job, Captain,” I said, offering my hand.

  “You kept your word, I kept mine.” He took my hand in a crushing grip.

  Mal glanced at Chelsea, then me. “About that missile, Jones–”

  “As I told Chelsea, we won’t use it near residential areas,” I said.

  “I prefer you–”

  “Was it a Javelin missile launcher?” Smithson asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You have more missiles?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good to know. All the same, let’s only use them only as a last resort.”

  “As you wish.” The captain looked at Mal, his eyebrows raised. “Happy with that?”

  The leader of the Freehome Resistance Movement seemed aware of the twin holes Chelsea’s gaze was drilling in the side of his face, but he nodded in agreement anyway.

  “Right,” Mal said, keeping his eyes averted from Chelsea. “What’s next, Jones? The Custodian threat in Newhome Proper has been neutralised. However, we’re still faced with the imminent release of the virus as well as the pending departure of the Koreans. We’ve got one, maybe two days before they leave.”

  “You don’t even have that. The Koreans, Gamma Company, and truck loads of precious food, supplies and equipment, plus the submarine, will leave tomorrow morning,” said a man with a high, nasal voice – a voice I recognised immediately. It was the Patriot.

  A short, slim man in his late forties and without much hair, stepped through what was left of reception’s front door. He was accompanied by four large men armed with spring-loaded homemade guns.

  “Pat?” Mal said, eying the newcomer with a touch of wariness.

  The Patriot inclined his head slightly towards Mal but came straight to me and held out his hand. “Ethan Jones, I presume?”

  I accepted his hand and nodded.

  “Nice to meet you at last, young man. I’m Patrick Tori, the leader of the Underground Resistance Movement.” Many of the Armband Custodians gathered nearby gasped in shock. They had heard of him but had never seen him.

  “Patrick – Pat – Tori, an anagram of ‘Patriot.’ Clever,” I said. “Nice to put a face to the voice. And a big thank you for your work in making tonigh
t a success. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “You’re the Patriot?” Captain Smithson asked. “I thought he was arrested last year.”

  “No, that was one of my men taking the fall to protect my identity.”

  “You have any idea what they did to him before he was executed?”

  Pat met the captain’s gaze squarely. “Yes.”

  “And you can sleep at night?”

  “Sacrifices have to be made if we’re going to overcome the chancellor.”

  Smithson nodded. “Sad, but true. Now tell me, how exactly did you assist us tonight?”

  Wanting to diffuse the tension building between them, I quickly explained how Pat helped us hide in the Bushmaster, coordinated with the Armbands, and launched a bogus assault on the eastern gatehouse.

  “A significant contribution, wouldn’t you say?” Pat asked, looking at the captain.

  “It would appear that we are in your debt.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Now, I’d love to stand here and chat all night, but time is of the essence,” Pat said. “Now that the enemy is on the back foot, we must immediately resume the offensive. We have to break into North End and take the lab before the chancellor can release the virus. We also have to prevent the Koreans from leaving, and lastly, stop them taking the sub with them.”

  “Let the Koreans leave – good riddance, I say. Let’s focus our efforts on taking the lab and denying them access to the sub,” Smithson said.

  “If we take control of the lab but let the Koreans go, they’ll just start again,” Bhagya said. “It might take them ten, even twenty years, but they’ll recreate the virus and release it. We cannot let them leave.”

  “How can we achieve three objectives with what’s left of Delta Company and the sympathetic Custodians?” Mal said.

  “Don’t forget Ethan Jones’ unit. I can also provide several cells from the Underground Resistance Movement,” Pat said.

  “In all honesty, there are really only two objectives because the Koreans have to leave by the western gatehouse if they’re going to take the sub with them. So we only need to split our forces into two groups, not three,” I said.

  “Any recommendations, Jones?” Smithson asked.