Crimm put down his cup. “And I am doing so as secretly as I can, Dr. Walker. Marcus Graves still thinks I am working with him on perfecting Project GEMNI, he believes that Burroughs will perish in the city, like so many unfortunate infected do, and sees no reason to go after him.”
“Project GEMNI is still ongoing?” Albert asked.
“Yes. Graves believes the answer to ridding the world of Malady is through releasing Malad-X into the population to turn the infected on the infected. And Dr. Walker, you were right. If it enters the brain, it will be like a wrecking ball, turning the host into a ruthless killer.”
“There is something missing here, Professor,” Albert added. “Marcus Graves is valued for Quell. Why would he want to create a cure for Malady? No one would need Quell anymore and he’d be out of business.”
“How astute of you. Twenty years ago, I discovered that the Malady parasite is growing resistant to Quell. There are still many people who remain uninfected but choose to use drugs to satisfy their own addictions. These addicts contract Malady and the parasite matures in them to release offspring that have developed in a body where the chemicals of Quell are present.”
Albert snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the parasite’s offspring are born Quell resistant and are spreading. Quell is becoming less and less effective.”
“Correct again, Dr. Walker,” said Crimm. “I reported this discovery to Graves who immediately sought to combat this evolution. He increased Quell’s potency in response to the parasite’s evolving tolerance, then turned to genetics to remove the gene responsible for Quell resistance. In attempting this, he inadvertently heightened the aggression of the tampered Malady parasite, making it desire the destruction of any lesser forms. This served as the inspiration for the conception of Malad-X and the start of Project GEMNI so long ago.”
Albert frowned, shaking his head. “Graves is keeping people sick to keep them well. And you’ve condoned it? Why?”
“I’m old, Dr. Walker. I’m lucky to have lived as long as I have. I hope you get to as well, and I hope that you’ll do whatever you have to do to stay alive to further scientific advancement against the horrible condition plaguing us all. There are sides in science, just as there are in this big city. You’ll choose one, then another. You’ll make lines in the sand that others will cross. And the day will come for you, as it has for me, when you’ll ask yourself if science truly allows for creation for the betterment of mankind. You’ll ask yourself if you ever really helped anyone. I hope you can say yes.”
Jameson sighed. “Let me see if I have this straight. Marcus Graves created Malad-X to kill Malady. His first Malad-X worm backfired and converted itself to a super Malady worm that took over Burroughs’ mind and became Gemni, who is now loose in the city and making the Malady infected under his control?”
“Yes.”
“Now, Gemni is out there making Karma’s infected population side with him to kill off the healthy people because he thinks humans are ‘Lesser’ and need to be wiped out.”
“That’s right.”
Jameson pointed to the projected image of the Malad-X parasite. “Graves still wants to release Malad-X on the population so the Malad-X infected will kill the people with Malady.”
“Correct, Mr. Shoals. And Graves has already begun the next phase of his project—human testing. This time, however, he has moved Project GEMNI off site. It is not occurring at Sable Tower. I’m trying to learn the whereabouts of his experiments now. Furthermore, I’ve enlisted the finest urban hunters to track and kill Gemni. I’ve named my team ‘the Crimsons,’ and they are devoted to shutting down Graves Enterprises.” Crimm stood up and went to his apartment window. He opened the blinds. Beyond his silhouetted form, the Karma cityscape scraped the gray sky. “Doom is swiftly eclipsing the city.” Crimm took off his glasses. “Will you help me save the people of Karma?”
Jameson plopped back into the chair, snatched up a tart and bit into it. He said with a mouthful of raspberry, “My team and I need to talk it over.”
Chapter 6
Jameson and Luna met on the rooftop. Luna stood with one foot propped on the ledge and her rifle slung over her shoulder. Clouds bloomed overhead, sending the wind whistling through the surrounding buildings. Voices murmured from the streets below. She looked at the citizens ambling along the streets and alleys. From the rooftop, they looked like tiny figurines or wandering insects. Sounds of traffic and the far away clatter of the train united the noise of the city, turning it all into a strange music. She tied back her hair to keep it from blowing into her eyes and turned to face Jameson, who stood nearby eyeing the skyline of Karma City.
“You told Crimm you wanted to talk it over with the group,” she said, “but I know you meant ‘talk it over with me.’”
Jameson sighed. “Yeah. You’ve been risking your life for me since we hooked up. You don’t need to keep doing that.”
“We keep each other alive.”
Jameson paused. Luna watched his eyes squint to a piercing gaze across the city. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one and puffed in quiet thought. “We really don’t need this. We can just go.”
“Go where?”
“Back into the Voids. We can wait it all out then rake up the spoils of whatever bullshit war is about to break out.”
“What about your father?”
Jameson flicked the cigarette butt over the edge of the roof. “Maybe I missed my chance. Or maybe we come back another time. There’s always maybes.”
A group of children ran down the sidewalk. They hooted and jeered at one another and their playful laughter echoed through the streets.
“Poor kids,” Jameson muttered. “Do you think the kids today know how bad the world is?”
“Did you know?”
He shrugged.
“I think kids always know,” said Luna. “But their innocence allows them to cope in ways we no longer can. When it rains, kids wait for rainbows. Adults just get depressed.”
“You’re right, Luna. And the hard part is the truth. Those kids down there, all of them, are likely infected.”
“Jameson, we can’t leave now. We can’t let Gemni or Graves get to them.”
Jameson offered a soft smile. “Then you think we should keep going? Take down Gemni and Graves?”
Luna looked into his bottomless, diamond-hard eyes. There, she saw that primal strength she found so empowering. Jameson forged a sense of power and determination for himself over years of loneliness. The passion that sparked in the depths of his eyes revealed itself when she needed it. And she needed it now because so much unknown lay ahead of her. Since leaving the rigid life of the Iron Tribe, the world beyond the rails opened for her and without Jameson, Luna knew she would have been devoured like a lost cub in a bloodthirsty jungle. This city is a jungle. Now it’s my turn to protect the innocent. “If not us,” she answered, “then who?”
Albert approached. “Forgive the interruption, but I just wanted to let you know that you can go on without me if you want.”
Luna noticed the doctor wringing his hands. He was scared. “Why do you say that?” she asked.
“It’s just that I don’t know how to shoot. And I don’t want to know. I don’t think I ever could. I’m afraid I won’t be much help if trouble comes our way again. I’d hate to be baggage.”
Jameson slapped him on the back. “I thought you’d be too scientifically intrigued to pull out now.”
“I certainly am, though I—”
“You’re sticking with us, doc. Our schedule just opened up, so we decided to head out and save Karma. We’re going to need you.”
Albert looked to Luna. “Really?”
“You are strong because you don’t use a gun, Albert,” answered Luna. “You understand the threat in a way that Jameson and I can’t. We need your help. The city needs your help.”
She offered a smile of sincerity.
Albert stood taller. “Thank you. I’m hono
red and I’ll just stay low when the bullets start to fly.”
Jameson laughed and Luna gave a playful nudge.
“Well then,” continued Albert, “I also came up to tell you that I’ve received further directions from Professor Crimm. We’re to meet Kurt Auger in an hour. He’s going to fill us in on the next move against Graves and Gemni.”
Albert drove the ambulance toward an athletic park a few blocks from Professor Crimm’s apartment building. A red traffic light prompted their ambulance to stop at a crowded intersection. As citizens crossed the road, Luna felt the ambulance shake. A deafening horn blared, echoing off the buildings and through the alleys. A chill rippled down Luna’s spine.
“What the hell is that?” Albert asked.
The shaking in the road intensified. Luna watched as the citizens ran in fear, some screaming, others ducking their heads. Windows rattled, businesses closed their doors. People dashed into buildings or crouched behind parked cars; though, some remained on the curbside, peering down the street in ignorant anticipation.
Jameson drew his shotgun.
“Put that away. Now!” Luna ordered.
“Sounds like a train is about to rip through here,” Albert said, “but we’re miles from the rails.”
Luna shook her head. “Not a train, but you’re pretty close. It’s Baby Boy.”
“Excuse me?”
Luna pointed. A colossal eighteen wheeled truck rolled into view. Its black body panels wore swatches of rust along riveted armor plating. The wheels held dreadful blades that diced the air as the studded tires turned. A menacing steel grill looked like the deadly grin of a lion. The horn sounded again, this time reverberating through Luna’s chest. Sunlight beamed off the towering chrome exhaust stacks. Black smoke curled upward from the pipes like two smoldering volcanoes, filling the street with a sooty haze. The truck hauled a long trailer expertly fitted with thick armor panels and dotted with firing ports. Mounted to the trailer roof, a large machine gun turret rotated, aiming its sights over the panicking crowd. The machine gun fixed its sights on their ambulance. Luna’s heartbeat quickened in remembrance. “That’s Baby Boy. It’s the Iron Tribe’s AFV.”
“AFV?” Albert questioned.
“Armored Fighting Vehicle. The entire big rig detaches and reattaches to the Iron Tribe’s train. It drives onto the tracks and hinges to the caboose couplings. Railway wheels drop down from the truck’s undercarriage so it can roll on the tracks.”
“Impressive,” Albert remarked nervously. “W-What do they use it for?”
“Baby Boy is a death dealer. The trailer houses a team of foot soldiers, weapons cache and radio communications deck. The Iron Tribe deploys the truck from Mother Train in the spirit of vengeance. They’re on the hunt.”
“For who? I hope it’s not us!”
“Relax, Albert,” said Luna. “Baby Boy is reserved for those marked as true enemies of the Iron Tribe.”
“Then why do they have that huge gun pointed at us?”
“We’re about to find out.”
Five men in weathered, brown dusters emerged from the trailer. Wide brimmed hats shadowed their scarred faces. Each man carried an AR-15 rifle and wore a bandoleer of rounds. They surrounded the ambulance, dreadful combat knives clanking at their hips as they took formation.
Luna whispered, “Do not speak unless ordered. Do as they say or we’re all dead.”
Baby Boy idled in front of them. The machine gun turret locked its position, ready to shred the ambulance to scrap metal. Luna saw the driver emerge. His raiment differed from the others. His duster was black and trimmed with silver chains and metal studs. His physical size matched the girth of the semi. His tree trunk neck, barrel chest and boat-ore forearms made him look like a terrible ape in menacing urban clothes. “Get out of the vehicle and lay on the ground! Faces down!”
The group obeyed, hurrying out and dropping to the ground. Baby Boy’s driver walked around them; his chunky boots clopping like the hooves of a minotaur. “Listen up!” he barked. “I seek the one who bombed the Mother Train and destroyed the trestle. An Oasis Hospital Ambulance driven by drifters is unusual.”
Luna hoped Albert would not open his nervous mouth.
“Your identities will be verified,” said the driver. “If you are found to be responsible for the bombing, you will be executed.”
One by one, the driver forced them to roll over onto their backs in the road. He stared at their faces with rifle ready. Albert whimpered in fear. Luna was the last inspection. The driver nudged her with his boot and she rolled over. Her hair fell from her face, revealing her scars.
“Who are you?” the driver asked.
“Luna Briggs. Former gunner and scout. Honor to you, brother.”
The driver lowered his rifle. “Honor to you. You may all stand.” He shouted to his tribesmen, “Clear. Return to Boy.”
Luna and the others stood up and dusted themselves off.
“Do you know of the one we seek?” asked the driver.
“Yes,” answered Luna “We are after him as well. He is called Gemni. He is dangerous and has proven difficult to apprehend.” Inspiration overcame her then. A powerful idea filled her mind so rapidly that she had to act on it. She lifted her chin, standing firm with shoulders back and eyes set on the driver with purpose. “Let’s join forces. We have knowledge. You have the strength.”
“We seek no outside alliances in our mission.”
“Outside alliances? I am,” she paused, “was Tribe.”
His razor eyes cut her down. “Exactly.” He turned from her abruptly and walked toward the waiting big rig. Luna’s sudden shout escaped her, unable to be contained.
“You won’t find Gemni. Not like this.”
The driver stopped but did not turn to face her. She knew he listened. She knew he might kill her there in the street.
“You have to change the way you think,” continued Luna, “the way you see. Or—”
“Or what, Briggs?” growled the driver. He spun to face her. His eyes wide with astonishment over her bold position.
“Or you’ll die. That’s what goes on here in the city. There are no rules. There is no code. People are sick, they’re hostile, they kill and they die. Some people get to live and watch it all go down in heaps around them. You’re not the hunters now. Neither is Gemni. The city is the predator and you’re driving right into its jaws. Help us and we’ll help you.”
“We serve the Mother Train. No one else.”
Luna shook her head. “You need to serve the people.” She thought she saw his eyes soften in a brief flash of confusion.
He smirked. “And why should I do that?”
“Because if not, you’ll lose your way. And no one deserves to be lost. Not in Karma, not on the tracks and not in the Voids.” She signaled for Jameson and Albert to get back in the ambulance.
The driver walked back to the black semi. Maybe I’ll see him again. Maybe not. Soon, Baby Boy thundered away, scraping against parked cars and smashing over trashcans. Half of her heart yearned to return to her old life. Seeing the warriors of the rails depart without her was surreal. You’re different now, Luna. You’re not in the tribe anymore, she reminded herself. You left because of your sister. Don’t ever forget what you did to her.
The group pressed on to find Kurt Auger. At the entrance of the athletic field, Luna paused to survey the surroundings. She looked for signs of aggravation or tension among the people. Finding only common revelry, she pressed on, following the others into the park.
Crowds gathered in the bleachers around the field to watch two rival soccer teams collide. Families of Karma City cheered as their beloved heroes of Karma Thunder battled on the home field against The Lobos Express. Applause, heckles, and referee whistles filled the sporting park with honest excitement.
They passed a vendor stand and Albert gave her a nudge. He sniffed the air and pointed. “Hot dogs! Hungry?”
“No.”
Albert raised an eyebr
ow. “Well after being waylaid by the Iron Tribe I could use a little happy food. I always get hungry after nearly shitting my pants.”
Luna smiled at the comment.
“Tell you what,” said Albert. “I’ll get you a hot dog anyway. Oh, and they have smoothies! Just what I need to take the edge off.”
Luna giggled and the sound startled her. How long had it been since she felt such innocent happiness? She watched him awkwardly purchase the food from the vendor and couldn’t contain her laughter. There he stood, brilliant yet frantically searching his pockets for enough change, rifling through his satchel in near panic, papers fluttering in the breeze, swears escaping him, yet a pause to signal her with a cool and collected thumbs up as if he had it all under perfect control. She knew he wanted to perform an act of kindness, maybe chivalry of sorts, and get the lady of the group some food, and he just wouldn’t let her down. Nothing came easy for Albert Walker, not even buying lunch. Still, Luna saw the depth of his compassion and the extent of his determination. With the hotdogs paid for, pride spread over the good doctor’s face. She watched him swagger back to her side. He held out the hotdog, “There you go!”
She shifted her rifle strap to the other shoulder and took the food.
“You look like you’ve never seen a hot dog before,” Albert remarked.
“I have. Just never ate one.” She pinched the brown meat, pulling it from the bread.
“Whoa, hold it! You’re violating sacred hot dog rules. You leave it in the bun and enjoy it that way. Geez, Luna, you almost gave me a heart attack!”
She laughed again and that was when she decided that she’d return his kindness in the only way she knew how; by protecting him. Albert Walker’s company felt refreshing. This odd, quirky little man had a way of talking, a way of being, that reminded her of her life before being a warrior, of a time when simple joys were all that mattered; he reminded her of what it was like to think in a way that allowed for good feelings to be commonplace.
She thought she’d be playful. “What else do I need to know concerning hotdogs?”
Karma City Page 7