by M. R. Forbes
Hayden leaned back, planting himself again and pulling. His whole body shook against the resistance, the synthetic muscles of his augmentation straining. For the first few seconds, the door didn’t move at all. Then it slowly began to shift, the screeching noise drowning out Tinker’s rant.
The trife charged at the sound, two of them at first, and then two more showing up behind them. Hayden saw them rushing Rhonna out of the corner of his eye. She wouldn’t be able to fight them all on her own.
He let go of the door, picking up the ax and turning. He threw it, watching it flip end over end toward one of the trife. It was upside down when it hit, but the back side of the weapon still struck the creature in the stomach, cracking its weak bones and knocking it down.
Rhonna hit the next one with the ax, leaving it in the dying trife’s chest and bouncing back and away from the remaining creature. It lunged at her and she circled it, grabbing Hayden’s weapon and swinging it around. It cut right through the trife’s hand, severing it, and she reversed the course of the blade, catching it in the side. It hissed and collapsed.
“…all has been written. All is as it has been ordained. Come to Edenrise. Come for salvation. Join the liberation and be saved. I am your leader. I am your salvation. I am your messiah. Meet me in Edenrise…”
Hayden took the handle of the door and pulled again, yanking forcefully, stepping forward, yanking again. The door screeched loudly, drowned out at a distance from the noise of the intercom.
Rhonna retrieved both axes, holding one in each hand and waiting for more of the trife to appear.
Hayden pulled again, and again. On the fifth pull, the door finally released, swinging open far enough for the two of them to slip inside.
They maneuvered around it and into the armory.
Hayden’s eyes feasted on the shelves of dark crates and the racks of guns. Dozens of them of different shapes and sizes. More than they could ever carry off the vessel.
“Jackpot,” he said.
Chapter 20
Hayden pulled the door to the armory closed. Tinker was still audible in the background, ranting and raving about being the Messiah, about the rebirth of the world, about the Others and the salvation of Edenrise. It was almost impressive how he managed to repeat the same five basic ideas in a hundred different ways, over and over again for hours. From the first word Hayden had heard him speak, he had expected the man to run out of breath or run out of energy, but somehow he kept going and going and going.
It was easier to listen to, now that they were inside a room full of guns. The weapons were in great shape, too, sealed off from the outside world and protected from the passage of time. He took a rifle from the rack and looked it over, placing it on a nearby counter and holding it down with his dead hand while stripping it slightly with the other.
He had gained a lot of experience with firearms over the last few months, more out of necessity than anything else. He could take almost any weapon apart and put it back together, though that would be challenging with only one hand.
The components were in good shape. No sign of rust or damage. A slight sheen of lubricant still covered the appropriate surfaces. He put the weapon back together, turning back to the racks.
“We can’t take all of it,” Rhonna said, going around to the first rack to another wall of ordnance behind it.
“No, but we’ll take as much as we can. Especially magazines.” He put the original weapon aside.
“Sheriff,” Rhonna said. Hayden made his way around the rack. Rhonna was holding up a vest. “This thing is heavy.”
“Bulletproof,” Hayden replied. “If you can find one that fits, you should wear it.”
“Pozz.” She turned back to a rack of them, finding one and slipping into it.
There was other equipment nearby. Helmets and holsters and ammo belts in addition to the vests. “You might want a helmet too,” he suggested.
Rhonna tried them on, finding one that fit. She looked somewhat small under the vest and helmet, like a kid playing at being a soldier.
Hayden helped her equip with belts and holsters and then did the same for himself. He outfitted them with a pair of sidearms and picked an assault-style rifle for them both. He found the ammunition for the weapons, packing them onto the belts and vest, loading each of them down with as much ammunition as they could carry.
Finally, he equipped them with long knives that strapped to their legs, better for killing the trife without making too much noise.
“This stuff weighs a ton,” Rhonna said once she was fully loaded.
“Would you rather go without?” Hayden asked.
“Probably not.”
He smiled and then noticed the intercom had gone silent. “It sounds like Tinker is done.”
“For now at least.” She took a tentative step forward, getting accustomed to the weight of her newfound supplies. “What now, Sheriff? We try to get off the island?”
“Not yet,” Hayden replied. “We’ll wait until nightfall. Let’s head back to the bridge.”
“Are you sure we have enough equipment?”
“We can never have too much, but I think this is as much as we can carry.”
Hayden returned to the door and pushed it open. Now that the seal had been broken, it swung more easily and more silently. He had kept the ax, and he held it ready as he moved out into the passageway, quickly scanning for trife.
“We’re clear,” he said.
Rhonna followed him from the armory. He pushed the door closed behind them, wishing he could seal it again. He would prefer the weapons inside didn’t fall into the wrong hands.
At least the trife would help keep it safe.
They went back up the central ladder and through the ship. The trife were still scattered, but they were beginning to regroup, moving through the ship in larger groups. Hayden didn’t confront them. Instead, he guided Rhonna into different rooms, closing the doors and waiting the creatures out. It was only mid-day. They had hours before would try to leave.
It didn’t take that long to get back to the bridge, managing to make the trip without being seen. The radio was silent save for an occasional burst of static, and Hayden went over to it and turned it off.
“I’ve been thinking about our problem,” Rhonna said.
“Which one?” Hayden replied.
“The one where we’re on the wrong side of the river. I’ve been thinking about how to get across.”
“Did you come up with anything?”
She smiled demurely. “Maybe.”
“I’m listening, Danno.”
She laughed at his use of the name. “Okay, this is probably going to sound crazy, but after seeing the way you’ve been dealing with the trife, I got to thinking that maybe that’s exactly what we need.”
“You’re saying my plans are crazy?”
“In a good way, Sheriff. They’ve certainly been effective. Anyway, I was thinking about what you said about the Liberators covering the river and the tunnel. And then I was thinking about how there aren’t any boats left on this side. Except that isn’t true, is it? We’re standing on a boat.”
“A boat filled with trife.”
“Maybe that’s even better?”
“I’m not sure I’m following your logic here.”
“The Liberators don’t think we came onto the ship with the trife. They probably think we’re in the city somewhere.”
“Okay. And?”
She sighed, exasperated. “And nothing. We cut the ropes holding the boat to the dock and steer it out into the current. The river will take us south, hopefully far enough to get around any of their defenses. Then we can take it to the other side.”
“You don’t think they’ll think it’s a little odd that the ship would suddenly break loose from its moorings?”
“They might. I said the idea is crazy. I mean, if they do think it’s strange, what are their options?”
“They can board it, attack it, or meet it wherever it lands,�
�� Hayden said, his mind starting to work around the potential of the idea.
“If they board it, they have to deal with the trife and with us, and we have guns now. If they attack it. I don’t know? I guess they could sink us? I don’t know if it would be that easy.”
“I’m going to bet their weapons are designed for airborne targets, not boats,” Hayden said. “Even if they have standard munitions, this ship is armored well enough I don’t know if they would be able to punch through.”
“What if they wait for it to reach the shore?” Rhonna asked. “We let the trife out?”
Hayden smiled. He was starting to like this idea. “We do more than let the trife out. We get them angry first.”
“How?”
“Leave that to me.”
Chapter 21
The helicopter dipped low over the river, staying close to the water as it traveled north past the old boats still docked on either side. They passed the Statue of Liberty on the way, and Doc remarked how the torch had been lost a long time ago, the gold plating that covered it taken by looters piece by piece.
Grimes insisted she was full of shit and that nobody knew what had happened to the torch, and how could she know. Of course, Pokey backed his brother up, while Needle sided with Doc.
It was all good-natured ribbing, restarted by the general and intended to keep them loose on the way. To Nathan, it also kept them talking about anything other than Edenrise and the wall. He knew James didn’t want him asking too many questions about it. At least not now.
“That one looks like it has power,” Nathan said, pointing at an old Navy ship as they flew a few dozen meters over the top of it. He could see lights inside through the portholes. He could also see a number of trife splayed out on the deck, soaking up the sunlight.
“It does,” James replied. “The reactor is active. It feeds the nest that runs in the city.”
“How come you don’t take it out, sir?”
“Do you know how much ammunition that would take? They can’t get off the island, and there’s hardly anyone left on this side. We’ll take care of them soon enough.”
They turned east not far after the ship. Nathan saw the dead trife in the streets right on the way. Had Sheriff taken all of them out?
The chopper slowed and dipped, coming to a hovering stop a couple of meters above the ground.
“This is our stop, Alpha Squad,” James said. “Let’s go.”
He grabbed the C-Dog, holding it under his powered arm, and jumped off the side of the helicopter.
The other Liberators unbuckled from the vessel and stood, hopping out behind him, one by one. As soon as Grimes was clear, the machine started rising back into the air, turning west.
James put the robot down. The quadruped began to move, heading east.
“How far do the sensors reach, sir?” Nathan asked.
“About a kilometer in this environment. I chased the targets south past the trife nest. I think they’ll have headed further south, or cut east to find a way to the southern island and then across, hoping to bypass the drones.”
Nathan turned and found the Naval vessel. It was at least two klicks further north, only the top of it visible from their position. He spun around again, pointing at a taller building that was still relatively intact.
“What if they went up to the top of a building like that?”
“Buzzcut is going to sweep the scrapers. The chopper’s sensor array isn’t quite as sensitive, but it should whine if it picks up anything large and alive in any of the buildings.”
“Like trife?”
“Only if they’re especially dense. The sensors are calibrated for humans. Enough questions. Let’s go.”
The Liberators walked along one of the streets, heading east. C-Dog ranged ahead of them, going out fifty meters and then running back. When they reached an intersection, it ran north a hundred meters to the next block, and then crossed south the same distance.
“Nothing,” James said.
Nathan noticed the helicopter swing around a tall building. It circled it once and then continued deeper into the city.
It was strange to be back here again so soon. It was strange to be here with the Liberators, the same people who had nearly killed him the night before. He had a hard time believing Sheriff would be as easy to locate as James seemed to think he would. Was he underestimating the training of a Space Force soldier? James had promoted him to colonel based on that same training, so how could he?
It felt good to be back here again too. Good to be working as a soldier. Good to be part of a team. It had been a long time since he wasn’t working alone. When he was on the asteroid mining rigs, they had given him some of the hardest, most solitary tasks. The ones few others could do, including newer replicas. It had become his mission to complete them all and to survive them all.
“Relentless, look sharp,” Doc said, noticing he was distracted.
“Roger that,” Nathan replied, pulling himself out of his head.
He scanned the streets for trife. It was daytime, meaning the creatures should be less active. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t go after them if they were spotted. Then again, he had a feeling it wouldn’t end well for the demons. Between the air support, Tinker’s modified weapons, and General Stacker in his powered armor, they were a force to be reckoned with.
“Liberators,” James said. “I’ve got warm bodies up ahead. I’ll take point. Wedge formation. Stay sharp.”
C-Dog bounded back to the group, falling in behind General. The other members of Alpha Squad slipped into formation, and Nathan found himself bringing up the rear. It was an important position, especially out here. He walked backward, keeping his eyes west. Was that movement to the north? He steadied his gaze, and a small animal scurried across the street and hid under an old car.
“Cat,” Doc said quietly, noticing it too. “You don’t have cats on Proxima?”
“We do. I wasn’t expecting one here.”
They crossed two blocks, and then James slowly approached a pile of rubble. He lifted his large rifle and pointed it at a dark crevice in the collapsed stone.
“Come on out,” he said. “I know you’re there.”
There was no motion for a second. Then a small hand appeared from the darkness. A girl followed it. She was no more than nine or ten, wearing a torn old t-shirt and jeans. Her blonde hair was cut short, her face dirty. She had a small spear in her hand. She didn’t look frightened.
Nathan recognized her. He had seen her asleep on Margie’s couch, back at their camp.
“Who are you?” the girl asked.
The visor of James’ helmet went up. “We’re looking for someone. He has two metal hands, like mine, but smaller.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know him.”
“Can you take me to your people?”
“I don’t know if I should. You all have guns.”
“I can find them anyway. I found you. And I know you live underground.”
She thought about that for a second. Then she pointed north. “That way.”
James turned, looking back at the Liberators. Then his hand shot out, grabbing the girl by the arm and lifting her. She was tiny in his grip, and she started screaming as she hung in the air.
Nathan’s mouth opened, prepared to question the action. He took a step forward, but Doc’s hand went up in front of him, giving him pause.
“Come out. All of you,” James shouted. “Now!”
Nathan remembered General had said warm bodies. Plural. Sure enough, four more Amtraks emerged from the rubble around them. They were each armed with old hunting rifles. Simple weapons. They were there to keep an eye on the girl while she learned to hunt the trife.
“Put her down,” one of them said.
James turned in their direction, still holding her up. She swung from his hand like a pendulum. “I’m looking for a man. His hands are metal. Synthetic replacements. Have you seen him?”
“We saw him yesterday,” a woma
n said to James’ right. He turned again to face her. “The Sheriff. He helped save us from the trife. Lonnie took him off to find a fugitive. They said he’s a murderer. You haven’t seen Lonnie, have you? He never came back last night.”
Nathan looked at the ground. He knew what had happened to Lonnie.
“What does this murderer look like?” James asked. There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Big. Strong. Short hair. Strong jaw. Brown eyes.”
The visor of the power armor opened. The Amtraks all mumbled their surprise, thinking James was Nathan.
“You?” one of them said. The man pointed his hunting rifle and fired.
The round hit the armor and bounced off harmlessly. James turned to the shooter, who was suddenly terrified.
“That was a mistake,” he said. He lowered the girl to the ground, gently setting her down. “Run along, child.”
She looked up at him, backing away. He turned his rifle on the shooter and pulled the trigger.
A metal flechette crackled out of the weapon, punching straight through the man’s chest and leaving a gaping hole behind. The man collapsed.
“Please,” the woman said. “Don’t hurt us.” She threw her rifle down. The others did the same.
“The one you call the Sheriff,” James said. “Where is he?”
“We haven’t seen him since yesterday. I swear.”
“You’re going to help me find him.”
“But, I—”
Needle raised her Gauss rifle and fired. Nathan didn’t see her aim, but the shot hit the woman square in the forehead, snapping her head back and knocking her to the ground, dead.
James turned to the next Amtrak. “You’re going to help me,” he repeated.
The man nodded. “Of course, sir. What do you need me to do?”
“I want you to—” James paused suddenly. He turned around, facing Nathan. Their eyes met for a moment, and then the other Stacker was looking past him to the west. The C-Dog took off again, running back the way they had come. “Liberators, follow me. Needle, take care of the trash.”