“John!” I heard Martha’s voice shout in my ear. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” I blinked, shaking off my vision.
Oddly, it didn’t feel like I was dying. I’d been wounded before and the sensations that accompanied it were lacking. There was no pain, no feeling of shock, and I honestly felt better than I had in years. Both Mercury and Martha were beside me, the noise of the base’s alarms still blaring in the background. The two women were staring at me like I’d just risen from the dead.
Glancing over at the wound on my shoulder, I wasn’t sure I blamed them. They’d removed my shirt, so I got a good look at the damage done to me, or to be precise, the lack of damage. My wound had completely healed over, a white handprint in place of the gaping hole which had previously been there. It was as if God or an angel had reached down and pulled me up from death. I had to reach over and touch the wound to be sure it was real.
“What are you?” Mercury said, her voice filled with a kind of horrified awe.
My wife spoke, too quickly for my comfort. “I used my powers to heal him.”
“You used your powers?” Mercury stared at her in awe before it turned to anger. “You’re lying. If you had that power, it would have been known about by now.”
“We all have our secrets,” Martha responded before turning back to me. “How are you feeling?”
Where my hands had once been calloused and worn from years of work, they were now crisscrossed with albino-white scars from where the creature’s acidic blood had burned me. Yet, before my eyes, the scars were fading and the flesh returning to its original black color. The handprint on my shoulder was also disappearing, becoming only a scarred outline.
“Fine.” I continued to stare. “I feel fine.”
Was the Council right? Was I a monster?
Had my father been right all along?
No, fuck him.
Damn him forever.
I was better at being a soldier, being human, than he ever was.
He was not right.
Martha snapped me out of my fugue with her next words. “The base has been alerted by now. It won’t take them long to realize something happened up here. We need to get going.”
It sounded like she was trying to get rid of me. I was surprised to find the creature was already gone. The monster had melted away like a bad dream and no trace remained save the gory ichor on my knife.
“I see your point, Martha. Mercury, do you have our transportation?”
Mercury blinked as if suddenly realizing she was being talked to. “Oh, yes. I have your jeep, a Mark-7 Light Carrier. It’s just a few yards down the path. I also requisitioned enough supplies to get us to Kingsport, I think.”
“Good.” Standing up, I lifted up my arm and gestured for her to go ahead. “I’ll meet you there in a moment.”
Mercury nodded. Turning around, she jogged toward the nearby jeep. Somehow she’d managed to get the thing up the narrow path along the cliffs. I could barely make its shape out past the bright glare of the headlights.
The Mark-7s were nothing more than glorified composite vehicles made from the parts of non-functioning Pre-Rising automobiles, but they were serviceable enough. I could make out a number of old transportation barrels sitting on the cargo bed. Hopefully, with a little work, we could make the back into a decent smuggling compartment.
Turning back to my wife, I said, “You summoned that thing, didn’t you?”
I don’t know how, but I knew it to be true. Her guilty expression confirmed my suspicion. Even without magic some psychics had the power to control E.B.E.s. Martha was one of them. She could bring them across the desert or conjure them from thin air. It wasn’t an ability the Council of Leaders allowed her to use often, especially since summoning them was different from controlling them. She could, but only with great difficulty.
“I’m sorry.” Martha took a deep breath and exhaled. “The nightgaunt proved stronger than I expected.”
I held the golden knife underneath her neck, tempted to slit her throat then and there. “You betrayed me once and I was willing to forgive you. I’d be a fool to do it again.”
“Yes, you would be.” Martha’s voice became low and almost resigned. “You’re too soft for the Wastelands, John. You know nothing of the true forces which rule the Earth.”
“I know enough,” I hissed at her, wondering why she thought taunting me was a good idea at this juncture. Did she really think I wouldn’t harm her? Dammit, of course she did. She was psychic.
“No, you don’t. The curtain you’ve pulled back opens to a world where rationality has no place, a world where the old rules of morality and physics are just synonyms for delusion. The fact the creature broke free of my control was unexpected, but so was the fact you killed it. You’ve survived wounds no normal human being could have. Something happened to you in the Wastelands, something that has made you different from other humans.”
“I should kill you for just babbling all that nonsense.” It wasn’t nonsense, of course. I understood what she was saying, I just didn’t know how it applied.
“Then do so.” Martha’s voice was calm, precise, and ordered. “You’re important to the world, more important than me. I can’t quite divine the reason but you will buy the human race a few more years before its extinction. However, I sense great troubles in your future. I had to see if you were ready for them.”
“So you sent a monster to kill me,” I grunted, unable to believe what I was thinking. I still kept the knife at her throat despite knowing I couldn’t harm her. “Bitch.”
“Yes,” Martha whispered. I could hear her voice finally crack, the first hints of genuine shame and guilt now audible in her tone. “I did and I am.”
Knowing I was incapable of harming her, I lowered the blade. “You gave two lives to this world with me. I’m sparing you for their sake. Don’t make me do it again.”
It was an empty threat. We both knew it.
Martha stared at her shoes, shaking her head almost sadly. “That tender heart of yours is going to get you killed.”
“Probably.” I sighed. Putting the golden knife away in my pocket, I placed the book she’d given me in the other one. I started to walk to Mercury’s jeep. Just bursting out of the front gates would be suicide, so we’d have to use stealth.
A plan was beginning to form in my head when Martha called from behind. “You called a woman’s name, Jessica, in your delirium. Is she your lover?”
I paused in mid-step. “No. I care for her but our relationship wasn’t like that.”
“Do you love her?” Martha asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and jealousy.
“I loved all my squadron.”
“Not what I meant.”
“Not that way.”
“Then I hope you find her.” I could hear the reluctance in her voice. “And I hope she’s still human.”
“Me too.”
As I started down the path down the mountain, Martha said, “John, don’t forget the Necronomicon.”
I turned back to her and stared at her. “I’m not going to need a book out there.”
“You will,” Martha said, sighing. “More than you could possibly imagine. I’m going to call in the troops to look to the Residential Areas for that creature and divert their attention, but you need to know some things before you depart.”
“I don’t need lessons on how to survive the Wasteland.”
“You do about Alan Ward.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you know?”
Ward had been my teacher, my friend even, before his banishment. I had considered a career in science before diverting to the military after his exile. Martha, however, had been one of his pet projects. It had been because of Alan Ward’s influence she and the other “Touched” were employed by the Remnant rather than killed as in the olden days.
“Alan Ward believed as you do that the human race would never reclaim the planet Earth from the Great Old Ones. That we were doomed to
die out on a world which was increasingly no longer ours. He, however, believed it did not have to be that way.”
“Then he was a fool.”
“Was he?” Martha asked. “Doctor Ward believed it was possible to make humanity as the Old Ones did, free and wild and beyond good and evil. With laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and reveling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the Earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom.”
I looked out to the Wasteland beyond. “I think we’re already there.”
“He wanted to change us, John. To use the blood of Deep Ones, ghouls, and other creatures combined with the science we’ve learned from Yithians to make us a new humanity. One which was as immortal as the other species and capable of surviving the New Earth. He learned the sorcery of the Dreamlands and spells of that book in your hands to help make it happen.”
“What happened?”
“They exiled him for it, obviously. They destroyed his research and kept only those, like myself, who were too useful to discard.”
I walked up to her. “All the more reason to track him down and put a bullet in his head.”
Martha looked at me. “Actually, I’m arguing you may be the product of his research. If he’s continued it, then maybe there is hope for our species.”
It was a disgusting accusation, one which was worth killing a man over whether in the Wasteland or in New Arkham. All humanity had left to cling to was an inflated sense of genetic purity. My ancestors had no trace of monster running through their veins and the accusation of such thrown at my mother was enough to get my father to kill her before trying to kill me. Martha knew how hurtful such an accusation would be to me but she’d thrown it in my face anyway.
Harlot.
Witch.
Abomination.
I stared at her, opened my mouth, closed my right fist, then looked away. “I don’t think we’re going to see each other again.”
I walked away.
Then I heard her chuckle. “Never say never, John.”
Chapter Six
The entire base was on high alert, the sound of klaxon horns audible across the city. Guards were probably combing the city up and down for the nightgaunt. It was justifiable concern but couldn’t have come at a worse time. Eventually, no matter how good I was at hiding, they’d find me. Our only option was to escape now and I’d hastily laid out a simple but time-honored plan to get us out of the city.
I was lying in the back of Mercury’s jeep underneath a makeshift false bottom. Above that was a collection of waste barrels carrying food and water amongst other supplies. It wasn’t elaborate camouflage but there was elegance in simplicity. Focusing my attention on our escape allowed me to put the incident with Martha behind me, at least for the time being.
“Let’s just hope the guards are as corrupt and inefficient as I remember back when I was a grunt,” I muttered and sucked in my breath, as we pulled to a stop. Everything would depend on Mercury’s ability to talk herself past the gate.
If worse came to worst, we could probably make a break for it by shooting our way past the perimeter guards, but I didn’t relish the prospect. These soldiers were my family, after all. Still, it was possible we could fight our way out if that became necessary. Beside me, in the smuggling compartment, was a small arsenal. There was a heavy assault rifle, grenades, pistols, and plenty of ammunition. Mercury had done extremely well in arming us for our journey, I gave her that much.
I stopped strategizing when I heard a guard speak, signaling the most important part of our escape had begun. “Hello, Doctor Takahashi, what are you doing out here?”
“I’m transporting hazardous biological waste out of the base,” Mercury said, responding with a smooth confidence.
“What?” The guard asked in disgust. “You’re kidding.”
“I never kid about my work. It contains E.B.E. corpses and human testing remains.” Mercury maintained her chipper attitude, probably unnerving the men further. “You know, the usual.”
“Doctor Takahashi, the base is on alert. There’s a possible E.B.E. incursion. We can’t let you out when we’re still searching for it. It’d be too risky.” The guard had adopted an almost flattering tone, probably hoping to kiss up to someone close to the Council of Leaders. Apparently, whatever was driving her to flee from the Remnant wasn’t common knowledge yet.
Mercury didn’t miss a beat, reacting as if it was just another night at the office. “That’s why I’m moving the barrels outside of the base. It’s possible the creature is being attracted by biohazardous material’s scent. I’m going to observe whether or not they attempt to follow the trail I’m leaving.”
As lies went, it seemed pretty safe. After all, what did the average soldier know of the habits of E.B.E. hunts? I barely knew anything and I had clocked more combat time with them than anyone.
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to inspect these barrels.” I could hear the disgust in the guardsman’s voice.
“That’s certainly your prerogative. Have you had all your shots?” Mercury had that same pleasant tone to her voice she’d used when speaking to me. It was the kind of tenor which had probably broken a dozen or more hardened soldiers during interrogation.
“Shots?” I could hear the bewilderment in the guardsman’s voice.
“Vaccinations against mutation and contamination when handling hazardous materials, of course,” Mercury said, sounding almost bored. “You don’t want to be touching this stuff unless you’ve had them. Not unless you want a couple of extra fingers or eyes.”
“Ugh. Just go,” the guardsman said, disgusted.
With the screech and rumble of the East Gate sliding open, I felt a mixture of relief and annoyance: relief at our successful escape and annoyance at the amateur behavior of the guardsman. It was a shameful day for the Remnant guard, arguably for the armed forces as a whole. Still, I held my breath until we passed the remaining checkpoints and started traveling across the terrain outside the base.
About ten clicks later, I felt the jeep pull to a stop. Seconds later, I heard Mercury laboring to remove the barrels above me. Grunting and breathing heavily, she removed them one by one. Mercury wasn’t a particularly strong woman, so I had to admire the speed with which she worked.
Within minutes, the barrels had been removed and I pushed the plywood cover away. Mercury stood above me, wearing an outfit I hadn’t had time to appreciate earlier. Mercury had changed out of her dirty laboratory coat into a pair of khaki pants and a plain white button-down shirt. A red scarf was tied around her neck, accenting her hair and face. Her attire was more suited to an afternoon’s work in the sun than traveling across the Wasteland. Still, I couldn’t really blame her since she had almost no survival experience. It was up to me to get her to her destination.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. Getting away from the Remnant was like a great weight being lifted off my back. “I wouldn’t have been able to escape without you.” As much as I held nothing but contempt for her past actions, I did owe her my life.
Mercury, however, didn’t seem to be paying attention. Her gaze was squarely focused on my bare chest. Whether from sexual attraction or because she was looking at my unnaturally healed wound was anyone’s guess.
“Are you alright?” Mercury whispered, raising her hand to my shoulder.
I took her hand from my shoulder. “The wound is gone but I feel queasy, like the insides of my body are burning.”
I rubbed the handprint scars left behind by my unnatural healing. Disturbingly, my own hand fit into the print perfectly. I briefly tried to think about possible explanations before realizing I didn’t have enough information to start guessing.
Stepping out of the jeep, I took in the vastness of the desert around me. The terrain outside of New Arkham was a bleak, dusty, and cold ruin of an environment, with many small mountains torn up by the Great Old Ones�
� passage. The moon was high in the sky, stained red and no longer an object familiar to men of every age, as huge chunks of its surface were now missing. Sometimes, I wondered what it must have been like to live in a world in which some things seemed eternal.
A few albino rats with deformed heads crawled across the sands beside us. They were one of the many new animals which had emerged on Post-Apocalyptic Earth. Most normal animals had died in the ensuing disasters, with the survivors transformed forever. Others seemingly hailed from whatever world the Great Old Ones originally hailed, having slumbered beside them. It made the resulting ecology … interesting to say the least.
“I’m sorry,” Mercury said, reaching into the back of the truck and pulling out a First Aid kit. “I’ve packed a lot of painkillers. I figured they’d help with the locals.”
“Thinking of becoming a drug dealer?”
“Yes.”
“Good idea.”
Mercury sighed, sticking me in the bicep with her hypodermic. “Not primarily, though. I intend to use my knowledge for the betterment of mankind.”
Flexing my arm a few times, I sighed. “If you think it’ll help. Humanity is in its final hour. We only have a few generations left before it’s all gone.”
“I don’t believe that,” Mercury said. “I think we’ll eventually claw our way back to a place on the midsection of the food chain, if not the top. Ants survived in a world with humans, we can survive in a world with the Great Old Ones.”
It was strange to have this conversation now, especially after having a similar one with Martha less than an hour ago, but I could tell Mercury was uneasy about entering the Wasteland. She wanted to believe there was hope.
I wished I still did.
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