Deathlands 114: Siren Song

by James Axler

  Krysty eyed the woman, scanning for weapons. She had none—of course she didn’t, that was the rule of Heaven Falls, and why would she ever need one given her superhuman speed? Krysty’s power was ebbing, though. Krysty moved swiftly from the Melissa, hurrying over to where she had tossed her blaster barely a minute before. The Melissa was cursing her, calling her a “violator” between her gasps of pain.

  Krysty spotted the sheen of her .38 blaster glinting in the grass, and picked it up from the ground. Behind her, the Melissa was struggling back to her feet in a display of incredible bravery and agony. Her leg was ruined, the tip of the tibia bone jutting through the skin beneath her kneecap, strands of blood running from the wound like a map of the Nile.

  Krysty turned as the Melissa began limping toward her, and raised the blaster in her hands. “I’m sorry it’s come to this,” Krysty said in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. “In another world, one more meal and we could have been sisters.”

  With that, Krysty pulled the trigger, blasting a single bullet from the weapon—not at the woman’s head but low in her gut where she could not move swiftly enough to avoid it. The Melissa hobbled in place as the bullet struck, sinking back to the ground with a screech of pain.

  Krysty walked across the grass and delivered a second shot to the Melissa’s forehead from just a foot above her, silencing her screams in an instant. Then she sank to the ground, clutching herself, the .38 still in her hand. The power of the Earth Mother was retreating from Krysty’s body and with its departure, she would become as weak as a kitten.

  * * *

  J.B. LED THE way through the last corridor of the redoubt with Ricky covering his back. They took it slow, wary of an ambush after what had happened in the stairwell. Noise echoed from the concrete walls, the sounds of metal against metal, the low roar of what J.B. knew from experience was an acetylene torch.

  “They’re trying to patch up the mat-trans,” J.B. told Ricky in a whisper. “I wonder where they got the knowledge to do that?”

  Ricky looked confused. “Why didn’t they stop when the guards came to investigate the gunshots?”

  “Probably they’re programmed not to,” J.B. reasoned. “What do you feel like you should be doing just now? Be honest.”

  Ricky closed his eyes in thought for a few seconds. “Picking fruit,” he said. “To prove my love for the Regina.”

  “Exactly.”

  They reached the control room without incident. The lights were on, and two engineers were working on the mat-trans while a third had removed the front panel of an operating console and lay on her back wielding a screwdriver, her head peering up at the revealed interior.

  J.B. leveled the shotgun and spoke in a loud voice. “Nobody move.”

  The trio looked up at the intrusion and saw J.B. standing there like some grim angel of death.

  “Violator! It’s the violator!” shouted one of the women inside the mat-trans chamber, pointing at J.B.

  “Yeah, it is. I am,” J.B. confirmed. “But since you ladies aren’t armed and we’ve already taken out your sec crew, I would strongly recommend you play it cool and not try anything dumb.”

  The woman under the console pushed herself up, clenching the handle of the screwdriver so that its blade pointed downward. J.B. didn’t hesitate; he stepped forward and thrust the snout of his shotgun into his adversary’s breastbone. The woman toppled back on her butt, still clutching the tool.

  “Drop that,” J.B. said, “because next time I won’t hesitate to send you on the next train to the coast.”

  The women exited the mat-trans chamber, determined looks on their faces. Ricky saw them move and he sent a bullet their way from the De Lisle, aiming the blast high.

  “My friend asked you not to move,” Ricky said. “Do that again and he’ll stop asking so nicely.”

  The women finally seemed cowed by that, and they all sank to the floor and sat with their hands behind their heads.

  “We bumped into three Melissas,” J.B. told them, his blaster trained on the women. “You come here with any more’n that?”

  “No,” said the woman who had been working at the open console.

  J.B. believed her. For one thing, he had monitored the engineering teams as they’d exited Heaven Falls each morning, and he knew they tended to travel in a three-to-two Melissas ratio. The third guard this day was a sign that they had become more wary after the last incident here, but in a ville this size they wouldn’t have very many sec people to spare.

  A brief discussion followed as Ricky and J.B. decided what to do with their prisoners. Ricky was worried they would escape, but J.B. told him that wouldn’t matter so long as they didn’t destroy the mat-trans. He proposed they secure their hands and then escort them to the surface, where they could be tied up until the companions returned. It would keep them out of trouble and prevent them alerting the Trai to the insurrection that J.B. and his crew were about to launch.

  “What about wild animals?” Ricky asked. “Tied up like that, anything could just—”

  “They can take their chances,” J.B. cut in. “Their sec crew tried to chill us. I think we’re showing more mercy than they should expect.”

  Ricky searched the engineers’ equipment until he found some unused electrical cable. While J.B. held a blaster on the women, Ricky bound them tightly by wrist and ankle, giving them just enough movement so that they could walk but not run.

  Once Ricky had finished, J.B. surveyed the mat-trans and grilled the prisoners about its status. One of the women confirmed that it was now operational.

  Ricky and J.B. escorted the women through the redoubt and searched for explosives. The redoubt hadn’t been stripped of supplies, and they found many packs of MREs, as well as magazines of ammo in various calibers. J.B. snagged several that would fit his weapons, and some spares suitable for the other companions. Bullets were hard to come by in the Deathlands—you grabbed what you saw when you saw it.

  Soon after, they found a stash of explosives, and J.B. took some time deciding what best to use. He chose several detonators and pocket-size plas-ex charges, which looked like lumps of clay and could be molded for ease of use. He placed the explosives and a few other choice items into his trusty satchel and then he and Ricky escorted their prisoners topside.

  Mildred and Krysty were waiting for them outside. Krysty was sitting on a patch of grass with her head bowed low.

  “She okay?” J.B. asked.

  “Had a little scuffle with a friend of yours,” Mildred explained. “Dark hair, white dress. You know who I mean?”

  “Old sparring partner,” J.B. confirmed with a nod. “Gave us the slip.”

  “She was a fast mover,” Mildred said. “Krysty tapped into the Earth Mother to restrain her.”

  “They’re all fast movers,” J.B. stated grimly.

  The companions tied the three engineers to separate trees, far enough apart that they could not help one another and could only converse by shouting. Then they set off back to Heaven Falls, using the high paths that J.B. had discovered less than a day before. They could only hope that Doc and Ryan had managed to persuade Jak to join them, and that all three were still safe as they put their part of the plan in motion.

  * * *

  WITHIN HEAVEN FALLS, Ryan, Jak and Doc waited in the plaza between the towers. They occupied one of the benches while Doc explained how the honey was stored.

  “There are six levels to the storage facility,” Doc said, pointing out the tower that contained it. “Each one is filled floor to ceiling with clay vessels containing honey.”

  “Six levels?” Ryan mused.

  “Five or six,” Doc confirmed. “I did not go up to the topmost level, but from my brief exposure to the interior I would confirm that, at the very least, the bottom two stories are full with the third floor close to capacity.”

  “Lot honey,” Jak said.

  “It forms the core of the Trai’s diet,” Doc reminded him. “The cakes and pastries they eat
, the mead they drink, even the sweetened water.”

  “Brain messin’ goo.” Jak spit. “No good.”

  Ryan shielded his eye from the sun as he watched the doorway to the storage tower. “I can see two women in there,” he said quietly. “Guards?”

  “I believe so,” Doc confirmed. “My superior gave them some specific information before we were allowed inside.”

  “What information?” Ryan asked.

  “Regrettably that was something that I was not privy to,” Doc told him.

  “How many guards?” Ryan asked. “Just the two?”

  “Yes, but the door can be locked,” Doc told him. “Furthermore, there may be people inside who are in the process of delivering or removing honey for use by the ville.”

  “This is the heart of the infection,” Ryan told his companions. “We need to be certain that it’s destroyed. That means someone needs to go in there and eyeball it.”

  “Me,” Jak said. “Owe them.”

  Ryan shook his head. “No, it’ll take two people to cover the hives and you’re fastest, Jak. Doc, you know where all the hives are located?”

  “Yes. But they are painted white and easy enough to spot,” Doc confirmed. “Jak should have no trouble.”

  “Good,” Ryan said, reaching down to grab his Steyr Scout longblaster, which he had brought with him wrapped in a blanket to disguise it. “You and Jak work in opposite directions. I’ll take on the store. This honey trap’s about to burn.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The journey back to Heaven Falls took longer than J.B. had hoped. Krysty had little energy left after drawing on the Gaia power, and she kept needing to stop to rest. Eventually, Krysty urged the others to go on without her.

  “I’ll catch up,” she said. “Better that Ryan has some backup than none.”

  J.B. couldn’t argue with that reasoning, nor could the others.

  After making sure Krysty was comfortable sitting on a mossy log in a thicket, the Armorer, Mildred and Ricky continued over the high mountain path, picking their way across the sharp rocks as they hurried back to Heaven Falls.

  Once they were in sight of the gates, J.B. pointed out the beehives that ran in twin lines along the exterior wall.

  “I’m going to ask you to duck out of the main event,” he told Ricky. “I need a man to set fire to the hives. Think you can do that?”

  Ricky looked uncertain. “You sure you won’t need me in there?”

  “Mildred can cover my ass,” J.B. assured him.

  “Not for the first time,” Mildred teased.

  Ricky handed Mildred the extra plas ex he’d been hauling, then scrambled down the steep outcropping, taking care not to be seen.

  * * *

  WITHIN THE VILLE, Doc was following a similar task to Ricky’s. He had lit one of the smoking cloths that were used by the beekeepers to dull the bees’ senses while they gathered the honey, and now made his way around the ville counterclockwise, setting fire to the hives. Jak was performing the same task following a clockwise direction.

  The fires were slow burning, and it wasn’t until Doc was almost a third of the way around that someone noticed that the hives weren’t just smoldering—as if they were being smoked by a harvesting crew—but were actually on fire. Before long, the alarm went up, but Doc’s actions were overlooked. He was known as a beekeeper and no one thought to question why he would be carrying the same smoking cloth that he and his colleagues regularly employed in their workaday business.

  Working from northwest to southeast, Doc had reached the east wall hives when someone finally came to question him. That someone was Jon, his beekeeping supervisor, who happened to be working at a nearby hive in the otherwise empty field. He clearly didn’t register what Doc was up to, and was simply surprised to see Doc at work.

  “I heard you were sick,” Jon said. “That nice medicine lady—Molly, is it?”

  “Mildred,” Doc said.

  “Yeah, she came and told me early this morning,” Jon explained. Already a respected healer in the ville, Mildred had been sent to spread a little disinformation before the companions had split off to enact their plan.

  Doc took a deep breath. “As you can see, I am feeling far more sprightly now,” Doc explained, “so I hurried to catch up with the day’s tasks.”

  Jon eyed Doc skeptically. “Where are your gloves?” he asked. “And what have you been collecting the honey in?”

  As he spoke, his eyes flicked over Doc’s shoulder to a beehive that stood just a little distant, and he saw the dark smoke pouring from it. “Hey, is that hive burning?”

  “Where?” Doc said, turning to see where Jon pointed. As he did so, he flipped his swordstick up and around, rapping it with force into Jon’s groin.

  The beekeeper let out a gurgle and sank to the ground. Standing over him, Doc swung the swordstick again, smashing it hard on the side of the man’s skull. Jon said something unintelligible and sagged in the grass, unconscious.

  “Sorry, my friend,” Doc lamented, “you were a rather good boss and deserved better than that. But time is not my ally today.”

  “Hey!” The cry came from across the field. Doc looked up and saw Jon’s curly-haired partner, Thomas, running toward him. “Hey, what the heck did you just do?”

  Doc twisted the silver lion’s-head handle of his swordstick and readied to draw the blade that was hidden within. Thomas stopped a few feet away, staring in shock at Jon’s body where it lay in the grass, swelling already evident at the side of the man’s face.

  “You hit him, Doc,” Thomas stated. “I saw you do—”

  In a swift movement, Doc drew the blade and slashed it across Thomas’s chest, tearing shirt and skin.

  “Get back,” Doc warned.

  Thomas stood there incredulous, looking at the line of blood that had appeared across his chest. “Why did you...?” he muttered. And then he swayed in place and sank to his knees, his hand clasping the wound on his chest. It was a common enough reaction, one that Doc had seen many times before—a person didn’t know how to react when his or her blood was suddenly spilled.

  Taking advantage of Thomas’s momentary shock, Doc stepped closer and unholstered the LeMat, using the grip like a club against the back of the beekeeper’s skull. Thomas collapsed to the grass, unconscious.

  There was no time to lose. Doc had to keep moving, setting light to the hives while his allies continued with their own parts of the plan.

  * * *

  LIKE DOC, JAK worked around the ville as fast as he could, setting fire to the beehives. He moved swiftly, using a flint and tinderbox to light a fire before sprinting to the next hive.

  Jak had set light to twelve hives before someone noticed what he was doing and gave chase.

  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” a woman asked. Jak didn’t know her name, but he had seen her around. A supervisor in the construction projects, she was tall with long limbs and blond hair so pale it was almost white.

  Jak didn’t even stop. He merely glanced back at the woman before working the flint and tinder over a rag to light the next hive. Behind him, smoke was beginning to churn in the air above Heaven Falls from the burning hives.

  “I asked you a question, man,” the woman demanded, now standing over Jak. When he ignored her, she reached down for the crook of his elbow as if to pull away a small child.

  Jak turned then, thrusting the burning rag at her face. The woman shrieked and backed off, the burning rag setting her hair on fire.

  “Keep away,” Jak warned her as she slapped at her burning hair.

  Three minutes and four hives later, Jak became aware that people were approaching, a whole group of them, walking determinedly in step. He looked up from his work at the next hive and saw Charm leading four other women across the flowers toward him. She was dressed in her Melissa robes, but the other women looked like farmers or construction types.

  “Jak, my love, what do you think you’re doing?” Charm demanded. “P
ut that down.”

  Jak closed his eyes, allowing her silky voice to wash over him, dropping the flint and tinder as he felt the urge to trust her. He wanted to trust her, believe her, obey her. He wanted all of that, in some deeply buried part of his mind. But he had to ignore it; she was as much a victim as he was.

  “Jak?”

  “Honey poisoned,” Jak said, keeping his eyes closed. “I save you. Save all.”

  “Jak, you’re sounding like a madman.” Charm practically cooed the words, and Jak felt her shadow cross over his face as she reached for him.

  Jak lashed out, not looking but sensing where his lover was. Charm gasped with surprise as Jak’s swipe struck her under the chin.

  “Jak, please...” she began.

  The albino opened his eyes then, two bloodred orbs reflecting the flaming rag in his hand. “Charm don’t see,” he said. “None see.”

  “I was going to be your queen,” Charm rasped.

  “Not queen,” Jak told her. “Queen bee.”

  And then Jak drove the clenched fist of his left hand into the side of Charm’s head with sudden force. Charm saw it coming at the very last instant and she tried to avoid the blow, but there was nowhere for her to go. Jak’s fist hit her with a blunt thud, striking her temple where it was most sensitive. He watched as Charm keeled over and sprawled on the ground, her white robes fluttering around her in the wind. She was semiconscious, her eyes flickering, only the whites showing.

  “Check her,” Jak told the other women.

  One of the women stepped forward, a fierce expression on her face. “You lunatic!” she bellowed. “You’re defiling the Regina’s love!”

  Jak thrust the burning rag at the woman, forcing her to step back. As she did so, he reached across his body with his empty left hand and pulled his Colt Python from its hiding place at his right hip. The woman’s eyes were still on the flaming rag as the blaster appeared in Jak’s hand, and he waved it in a controlled arc at the group.

  “Keep away,” Jak told them. The alternative was obvious enough.

  * * *

  RYAN WAITED FIFTY yards from the honey store, leaning back in the shade of an adjacent tower, watching the twin guards who stood within the shade of the door. He could smell the smoke now as it wafted over the mountain ville, and the sounds of shocked discovery were echoing from the distance where the Trai people were beginning to realize what was happening. The two white-robed women in the storehouse doorway were aware that something was going on, too. Ryan saw them peer excitedly from the door, discussing what they could see.