“Anything?” Roo asked.
“There was some interest, but not enough to land us anything,” Booker said with a sniff.
“Fuck me dead. I bet it’s that bitch’s doing,” the Australian declared angrily, and his fists clenched and unclenched. He looked around like he was trying to find someone to punch. A man walked past at that moment, caught the look in his eyes, and gave the three men a wide berth.
Booker squinted at the sun that now dipped low toward the horizon. “I think we’ll have to call it a day.”
They started back toward the re-purposed shipping container. Roo muttered curses under his breath, his accent too thick to understand, but the other two men didn’t pay him any attention.
“I don’t want to take Prince’s offer, but we might have to if tomorrow goes as shitty as today. Kyj,” the Brit said, running a finger under his nose again. “What do you think about Prince?” he asked Charles.
The American raised one shoulder. “Don’t have enough information to judge. But you know what they say about Nigerian princes.”
Booker smiled. “He does seem like a tuss to me. Maybe we can get more information from other people tonight.”
Charles nodded.
There were more men around the shipping containers than the night before. Most looked tired, their clothes speckled with dried blood and dirt. Someone had procured alcohol. Some men were quiet and drinking like they wanted to drink to forget. Others seemed to be drinking themselves to a better mood. All were on their way to being hammered.
Someone offered to share their meal with the three men, and they gladly accepted. It was better than MREs, but not by much—rice and some unidentified meat in gravy.
“Where are the three of you from?” the man, Alec, asked as they settled around the small fire pit he’d constructed as the night closed in and the temperature plummeted.
They told him and Alec seemed impressed.
“What brought you to the Zoo then? Men of your caliber don’t usually show up around this shithole sector. As for myself, I was a hunting guide—bighorn sheep. Lots of cold, lots of waiting, lots of nothing. I thought I’d try my hand at something more, uh, exotic.”
“Not ready for civilian life quite yet,” Booker answered for the three of them.
Their host nodded sagely. He was an average-looking guy but had a gleam of intelligence in his eyes that Booker found interesting. Alec seemed to be someone who could blend in and learn a lot about his surroundings.
“How long have you been here?” Roo asked.
The man shrugged. “Oh, about a year or so. I lose track.”
“How many times have you been in there?” the Brit asked.
“Enough. But you never get used to it, if that’s what you’re asking. You think you’ve got a handle on what’s going on in that Zoo and then it all turns over on itself,” Alec said with another shrug.
“You know Prince Akachukwu?” Charles asked.
“Prince Achoo! Sure do. That son of a bitch, he rope you into this?”
“No. Just wondering about what sort of a person he is.”
“He’s a pompous ass and a hustler. But he has his head screwed on right and won’t fuck you over. He’s honest for a thief,” Alec said.
“Bit of an oxymoron, isn’t it?” Booker said.
Alec grinned. “Hard to earn an honest wage when you’re doing the devil’s work.”
“What exactly is the purpose of everything here?” the Brit asked.
“That’s the question of the century, ain’t it? The Zoo started from an alien ship launching something into our atmosphere. Some say it was a weapon, others say it was a probe. I couldn’t care less what it actually was. It was alien and it was headed for the surface. From what I hear, scientists and militaries worked together to pull it in and direct where it would land so they could study it in safety.” He stared into the fire for a moment.
He looked at the three men who were watching him with expectant expressions. “They figured they’d experiment on a larger scale and brought it all here, ʼcause what better place than the Sahara? All protected, quarantined in a biodome. Like most plans, especially those run by governments, it spiraled out of their control. Turns out it’s a lot harder to control alien life than they’d anticipated, and it broke out of the biodome and spread. We built a wall to keep them in. They broke out of that, so this here Wall Two, all the governments and corporations pitched in to put it up. Almost didn’t make it, you know. The Surge hit while this wall was still under construction. It was very touch and go, they say. But, here we are now.”
“That’s the second time I’ve heard that term,” Booker said. “What was the Surge?”
“Nasty time, that, from all accounts. Talk to some of the guys who were here then, if you can find them. Giant scorpions and chimesauruses and the like. You went in already. You saw the signs of the fight inside the wall.”
“Chime-what?” Roo asked. “What all’s in there?”
“What’s in there? Don’t know exactly. I’ve been in loads of times, sure. What exactly do all these scientists and governments want? There are plants in there that have all sorts of healing properties or some shit. Whatever they brought here sparked everything in the desert into overdrive, that’s why it’s all so green, so lush. All the alien cells kick-started the evolution of things here on this planet while adding a healthy dose of something else.”
“It can’t be just for medicine like they get out of the Amazon. From what I’ve seen, whatever’s in there was created to tear everything apart,” Booker said.
Alec gave a rueful smile. “Bingo. That’s what the governments want. Heal cancer? Eh, that’s a side note. Let’s see how aliens kill one another. Let’s harness the powers and use them for ourselves. If you ask me, I’d say that if we don’t find a way to contain whatever’s trying to get out of the Zoo, the world is doomed to be swallowed whole.”
He looked up the sky. The desert night was clear and the stars seemed closer to the earth than usual, or maybe it was the nearness of something alien. The knowledge that there were others in the universe who knew about Earth and were watching and plotting sat heavily in their chests.
The man seemed to shake himself and looked around. He stood and kicked sand onto the fire, snuffing it out. “A job’s a job. Money’s money. Who cares what happens to the world, right? Good luck on the search, gents. Hope you make it to see the end of whatever this is.”
Booker shook his hand. “Same to you.”
The following day went much like the last. Even Charles was beginning to show impatience.
They all tried their different approaches. Booker heckled and negotiated but came up empty-handed. Charles asked, his animal magnetism that drew men and women alike to him not helping much—his rejections were merely nicer. Roo tried asking nicely, followed it up with a fist, and earned himself a split lip.
The day was nearly ended, and they stood outside the bar.
“What do you want to do?” Booker asked.
His companions looked at him.
“I don’t like it. It’s too high,” Roo said.
“Either Shira had a hand in this or Prince did. He seemed confident we’d come back to him.”
“That’s not a yes or no, Charles,” he said.
The man simply returned his stare.
“Right. Well, if Prince procures jobs that pay as well as Shira’s job did, then we’d still have enough left after the finder’s fee to line our pockets,” he said. “I don’t like it, but I think we should take it. We can use him and make a name for ourselves so we won’t need a middle man anymore.”
“How do we find him?” Charles asked.
As if on cue, the man and his two guards came strolling up one of the paths towards the bar.
“Speak of the devil,” the Brit muttered.
“Gentlemen! We meet again,” Prince said, his smile broad. He made a big show of checking his watch “And look at the time. Have you made your decision?”
Booker glanced at his teammates. Roo nodded and Charles stood at parade rest. “We accept your offer. For now.”
“Excellent. I knew you’d come around.” Prince said, clapping each of them on the shoulder. The Aussie bared his teeth, which only made their new employer laugh. “It’s not a minute too soon either. There’s a team ready to go out in the morning, oh four thirty. Be ready at Gate 03FLC. It’s an extended mission, so find yourselves some provisions, if possible. The team will be outfitted with necessities, but sometimes, things fall through the cracks.”
They arrived at Gate 03FLC at 0415 with the gear they had bought from Dan on their first day. Others loitered at the gate, waiting for the mission to begin. Prince smiled at them and waved but didn’t approach. Roo grunted in surprise.
They watched the others, sizing up their new team. Three ex-communist Angolan rebels were busy chanting and praying in their native tongue, rubbing the various talismans they had draped across their bodies, symbols chalked onto their old Portuguese FBP submachine guns.
Two stoic Chinese men watched the Angolan’s preparing. They wore matching outfits of loose black pants, heavy-soled boots, and long-sleeved black shirts. They each had QBZ-95 assault rifles strapped to their backs and Glocks in their thigh holsters. Booker noted that one of them had a pair of sai on him, while the other carried a bo staff, collapsed and hooked into his belt.
The last three stood with their backs slightly turned, a dinged-up flask being passed between them. They spoke in guttural Eastern European accents that Booker thought could be Romanian, but he wasn’t sure. Two were armed with better-condition AK-47s than the three of them had, and one had a Belgian FN SCAR.
The three groups seemed proficient, but they were a scruffy looking lot with mostly old and well-used equipment. That was at odds with Prince, who had a custom-made and expensive-looking rifle Booker couldn’t place, almost brand-new body armor, and a huge machete slung on his back.
“I guess you can afford the best gear when you’re taking thirty-percent from everyone,” Booker whispered to Charles.
The assembled team was making Charles nervous. The distinct groups of people didn’t seem to have any interest in working together. He hoped that when they entered the Zoo, they’d function as a unit and not five separate entities.
It wasn’t Prince who took over the mission, which was a surprise to Charles. One of the Angolans stepped forward.
“All right,” he said, his voice strong and clear, although accented. “It’s time for the mission to begin. I’m Yander, and I will be running point. This is an information-gathering mission. We are trying to engage as little as possible with Zoo fauna. We are there for the flora. There are rumors of a new glade with potentially untapped species of flora and we are going to bring samples back. Any questions so far?”
He looked at the group. No one said anything.
“Very well,” he continued. “This will be a two to three-day mission depending on our success rate. You will be paid at the end of the mission. Forty each. Now, let’s move out.”
Yander signaled them all in closer and the groups combined and fell in line. The lights at the top of Gate 03FLC blinked to green, the alarm sounded, and they swung open. He and his companions led the way through the walls and into the Zoo.
The leader didn’t share the exact location of the new glade, nor did he confirm the distance they would have to travel. That sat sideways in Booker’s chest, but he ignored it.
The group traveled at a steady pace in a loose line, maintaining the pace for several hours as the Zoo grew up around them and closed in.
“How do you think they’ll do?” Roo asked his companions quietly as they jogged through the thick underbrush.
Booker’s gaze scanned their surroundings, but so far, there were no signs of Zoo life. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. “I don’t know. That wasn’t much of a brief. We seem to be traveling well now, but I think there needs to be more communication. If something attacks, we won’t be responding as a group.”
Charles nodded. “We might find ourselves up a creek without a paddle if that happens. But then again, we might be surprised. From what I can tell, everyone seems capable enough.”
“Individually, yeah, they look the part. But as a team?”
Ahead of them, Yander held a hand up and the men halted. He turned, and they gathered closer around him. “We haven’t got far to go now. But first, we have to cross through a meadow of carnivorous plants. We could go around, but that would take too much time. The best bet is to cut through. Just remember, the heads are the ones with the yellow stripes.”
He turned away and led them on.
“Carnivorous plants? Like Venus fly traps?” Roo asked.
“Sure, if Venus fly traps could bite you in half,” one of the Europeans said as he moved past, his tone dripping with sarcasm. His two compatriots chuckled.
“The bastards are quick, so keep an eye out,” one of them said.
The trees thinned and an emerald-green meadow stretched before them. It was oddly oval-shaped, but Booker could see it would take a long time to move around, and if speed was the name of the mission, it wouldn’t be worth it. At first, the clearing appeared smooth, but as they got closer, he realized it was in a valley and the plants were tall, perhaps ten feet high. Each was comprised of long, flat leaves that spread out like a lily’s, close to the stems of the central flowers. There were several blooms to each plant, all closed tightly like a rosebud, although on every other plant there was one with a banana-yellow stripe through the vibrant green.
Yander raised his weapon, then crept forward, trying not to disturb the leaves as he went. The others followed his example. Soon, they were within the meadow. The vegetation seemed to seal in the heat and damp, and the men rapidly became soaked with humidity and sweat. It was slow going, trying not to disturb the foliage at all if they could. The shape of the plants themselves provided barely enough space as they didn’t touch each other.
The earth under their feet was muddy and churned up as if a rototiller had been through. Every few minutes, thick white roots moved along the surface, then plunged back into the black earth like blind snakes. The plants shifted as they waited.
A bird flew over the men’s heads, calling out in passing. One of the yellow striped buds flashed into action, the petals unfurling to reveal a fleshy red center lined with circles of teeth that swirled within the bud. It seemed to suck the bird out of the air, snapping the petals over the struggling creature. The flower returned to its drooping position, the engorged bud moving as it cut the bird to pieces. Several stray feathers floated to the ground. The plant’s roots churned beneath the earth as it turned itself slowly in a different direction.
Sweat poured off Charles, pooling beneath the flak vest he wore. After the first plant had made its move, the others seemed to vibrate with impatience. Their hunger made his skin crawl. Vegetation wasn’t supposed to eat flesh. It was supposed to consume sunshine and water.
The sun was setting. The strange blue glow that covered the Zoo began dimming and the plants emitted a bioluminescent green glow of their own.
Yander started pushing the group faster, wanting out of the plants before night fell completely. They were nearly through the meadow. The men became sloppier, tired from the fast pace and the suffocating heat they had endured.
One of the European’s shoulders brushed a leaf as he passed. The stalk of the plant trembled, the buds whipping around, trying to catch hold of him as the yellow-striped bud opened its petals and snapped forward. He dodged barely in time, but the movement sent him stumbling into another plant.
The chain reaction was almost instant.
“Go!” Yander yelled, taking off at a sprint. The others raced forward on his ass as the plants came alive. The earth groaned as roots stretched, leaves trembled, and buds snapped open and closed, attacking each other and lunging at the men in a frenzy.
Charles, Booker, and Roo moved t
ogether like a well-oiled team. The others lurched forward awkwardly, the line too loose for them to properly provide cover for each other. But they were fighting their way through the plants with some capability despite the poor team strategy.
The two Chinese men surged to the front of the group. One extended his bo staff silently, the sleek metal glinting in the bioluminescent glow from the foliage. He spun it, widening the path as the plants tried to draw away from the whirring metal rod. His companion lunged forward, flipping and stabbing with his sai. His wrists seemed to whirl with the weapons as he skewered several buds through their thick centers to force the plants to recoil in on themselves.
Roo and Booker flanked Charles, who powered them forward. The Brit fired his AK-47 in short bursts, covering the left for the men in front of them while the other man repeated the action on the right.
Each time a round struck, the plant convulsed and drew back, but they weren’t destroyed, merely made wary.
The three worked their way up through the men until they were just behind the two Chinese men, helping them clear a path while the others fell in tightly behind.
One of Yander’s Angolan comrade’s arm was caught in a reaching bud’s petals The man screamed as the plant tried to yank him closer accompanied by the sound of ripping cloth and the squidge of flesh being torn. Prince leapt forward and hacked at the bud with a machete until it released the man’s arm and retreated.
With a final burst of speed, the group cleared the meadow. They stopped at the edge of the trees, panting. The plants writhed behind them, waving in protest, a low moaning and the sound of shifting earth all that could be heard.
“Well, that’s that,” Yander said. He looked at his man’s arm. The flesh was stripped away in places and blood oozed, and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to use it for a while.
“We need to wrap that,” the man with the bo staff said. He pulled a small kit from his rucksack. “Here, let me do it. I have some poultice here that should prevent infection for now.”
Reprobates (The Bohica Chronicles Book 1) Page 6