I remember speaking, but not the words I said. I remember breathing sea-salt and blood-salt. I remember voices, responding to the howl, coming to help.
I remember Helen’s face—no confusion, no shock. A hunting bird, satisfied with her kill.
I remember screaming.
* * *
The nanites did their job.
Helen regained consciousness two days later, the holes in her lung and around her heart repaired, the sharpness returning to her gaze. I promised the doctor modifications for all his children and any more he might want. It was an impractical, extravagant promise, but we both knew I would hold to it.
At the end of the week, as I stood at the end of the harbor walk and stared out into the sea, Helen joined me on silent feet.
“How many more are out there?”
“A few days ago, I would have told you none and been sure of it. Now…” I shrugged, unable to face her. “I don’t know. Could be none, could be a hundred or more.”
“Someone sent him.”
“No.” I shook my head, hearing the utter certainty in her tone. “There’s no one left. He smelled me, something in the water. He followed my trail.”
“Someone sent him.” She shrugged, her eyes so steady on my face I finally looked away from the ocean and met them with mine. “It’s not a coincidence. You thought it was safe, but you were wrong.”
“I’m —” The argument died on my tongue. I’d been wrong about so much. “Maybe.”
“Then we have two options.” She turned her gaze toward shore, and I knew that, as always, she saw more than I ever could. “And I don’t want to wait around for them to come here.”
“You want to hunt them?” It was a rhetorical question, and she didn’t bother to answer. After a few minutes, I followed her gaze out to the ocean. The water stretched restless to the horizon, and I wondered what else was out there.
Monsters. Ones I’d made or helped Obsidian seed throughout the world. Ones that had formed themselves in the void of civilization.
I’d made hundreds of mistakes, saved a handful of lives, and done this. I’d created something brave and fierce and prepared for this world we’d destroyed. I couldn’t stop her if I wanted to.
Legacy isn’t simple in this Fallen World.
* * * * *
Marisa Wolf Bio
Marisa Wolf was born in New England, and raised on Boston sports teams, Star Wars, Star Trek, and the longest books in the library (usually fantasy). Over the years she majored in English in part to get credits for reading (this...only partly worked), taught middle school, was headbutted by an alligator, built a career in education, earned a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and finally decided to finish all those half-started stories in her head.
She currently lives in Texas with three absurd rescue dogs, one deeply understanding husband, and more books than seems sensible. Learn more at www.marisawolf.net.
* * * * *
Enforcer by Christopher Woods
Chapter 1
I walked down the well-lit street and looked around with a smile on my face. It was two hours after dusk, and people were walking around. Not thugs or killers. Real people.
I stopped and looked at the building to the right of the square. It had been a little over seventeen years since I left that place behind me.
What had happened inside was jumbled in my head, but I remembered some of it. The guy who had taken care of me for the first six months was prominent in my mind. The doctors who had taken over, less so. The various methods they had used to “fix” me caused them a lot of pain and misery when I left. They didn’t leave at all. I had left the place in quite a mess.
The people in Wilderman still remembered what I had done to the men who tried to dissect me. Their shock treatments hadn’t brought me out of my vegetative state. They had grown tired of helping me and had strapped me to a table where they planned to take me apart. I had settled the royal rumble that had been going on inside my noggin and decided not to let them.
The building was still dark and empty seventeen years later. I’m sure some brave souls had gone in and looted the place, but the building was still unoccupied.
“The people in this zone have long memories,” I muttered. “They’ll probably come after me with torches and pitchforks.”
A girl who sat on a stoop looked up at me as I walked by, talking to myselves. Even a prosperous zone like Wilderman separated its rich and poor. The girl looked to be about eleven and wore a dress of multiple-colored fabrics. Whoever had made it had used whatever material they could find. She held a basket that contained small figurines.
“What have you got there?” I asked.
“My momma makes them from some of the stones I collect.” She pulled one of the figurines from the basket. “This one is Thomas Wilderman.”
I looked closely at the stone figure. “Do you mind if I look at the others?”
“Sure, mister.” She smiled and held the basket out for me to see.
I reached in and pulled out a female figurine.
“That one is Bella Trask, Hero of Wilderman.”
“Doesn’t look much like her.” I saw the disappointment in the girl’s face, so I turned the figurine sideways. “Ah, there she is. Your momma must have seen her from the side.”
Her face lit up.
Softie. I chuckled at Childers’ comment in my head.
“You’ve met the Bella Trask?”
“Yes, I have,” I said. “She helped me and a friend with a job way over in Stiner.”
“Is she amazing?”
“You wouldn’t believe how amazing she is.”
“Yes, I would.”
I pulled out another figure.
“That one is the Beast,” she said in a hushed tone. “Momma said he came from that building over there. She said he killed every one of the people inside and escaped into the city. It was a long time ago, before I was born.”
“He looks quite scary,” I said.
“He was one of the scariest things ever.”
“And this one?”
“That one is Teresa Manora, Matron of the Society of the Sword. She’s said to be very pretty. Momma has never seen her, but she has talked to many who have met her, so she did the best she could.”
“Pretty close,” I said.
“You’ve met her, too?” The little girl’s amazement was something I hadn’t seen in years. It reminded me of my days as a child, comparing comics and baseball cards, before everything went completely off the rails.
“Yes, I have.”
“Oh, my momma would love to meet you!”
Another of the figures made me grin, “And this one?”
“That is the man who conquered the Beast. His name is Mathew Kade. He has a coat just like yours!”
“Yep. I really like his coat, so I got one too.”
“He’s the toughest man in the whole city.” She added in a low voice, “They say he even killed some Warlords.”
“Really?”
“That’s what momma said.”
“How much for the whole basket?”
“The whole thing? All of them?”
“Yep.”
“Momma said they are ten script each.”
“That’s, what? Ten figures? A hundred script?”
Her eyes were wide.
“Are you going to be safe with that much script?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded. “Nobody wants to anger the Peacekeepers.”
“Alright, then,” I said. I handed the girl the chits. “Put those in your pocket just to be safe.”
She counted the script, then quickly pocketed it.
“Momma will be so happy, mister.”
“Good. She does fine work.”
She pulled the figurines from the basket and handed them to me. I slipped them into various pockets.
“Here’s a little extra in case you want to slip over to that stand and get one of those sticky buns.” I slipped her an extra ten script.<
br />
She inhaled excitedly, and the smile that crossed her face let me know my generosity had been worthwhile.
“Thank you!”
I nodded as she turned and ran for the stand. It had to have been hard for her to sit there, trying to sell the figurines, with the glorious smell of cinnamon and sugar permeating the air.
Don’t even think about it, Childers said.
“Boy, those smell delicious.”
You’ll get fat and get us all killed.
Almost makes me long for a bullet wound, I thought.
I could hear Stephen Gaunt chuckling.
“Quit your whinin’,” I grumbled and continued down the street. “I’ll stay away from the damn things. But if I see a taco stand, all bets are off.”
Bloody tacos will be the death of us, Childers said.
“You know you love ‘em, Bill.”
Dear god, man. It is William. Not Bill or Will. William.
“Alright Willy,” I said. “Let’s go find out why Wilderman sent for us.”
With a final look at the Obsidian building where I had spent a great deal of time before the Fall and the three years after, I continued down the street full of people and vendors who would never be set up this late in most places. All the streetlights worked, which was damned unusual for anywhere in this broken city.
I walked three more blocks that were pretty much the same as the first block I had passed coming into Wilderman. There were more red-uniformed Peacekeepers in the outer edges of the Zone, but I was seeing fewer as I headed toward the huge Scraper Thomas Wilderman called home.
The main entrance to the Scraper had been impressive before the world went down the crapper, and I had to stop and admire the ornate statuary. What impressed me more than anything was that they were still there. Wilderman’s people had done good work, cleaning and restoring the statues.
Most folks wouldn’t know what they were. The griffin, a mythological beast from the old world, combined the body of a lion with the head and wings of an eagle. The statues had been there for decades before the Fall.
“First time in Wilderman?” one of the guards asked. He wore the red of the Peacekeepers.
“Nope, but it’s been a while.” I shook my head. “These used to be in worse shape.”
“Yeah,” the young Peacekeeper said. “Mister Wilderman had them cleaned up a couple years back.”
“I’m suitably impressed with the zone.” I gestured back the way I came. “If you see people out this late in most places, they’re trying to kill you.”
“Is it really as bad as they say out there?”
“In most places it is,” I replied. “There are some good folks in some of the zones. Many have never traveled out of the zone they were born in.”
“I’ve never left the zone,” he said.
“Place like this,” I said, “there’s no need to leave it.”
“I was going to go out and see the world, but my father convinced me to join the Peacekeepers. Maybe I’ll go after my five years are up.”
“Your time in the Peacekeepers should help when you do go out there,” I said. “It’s a rough place, and you need to know how to fight if you plan to travel. You need to learn about each zone before going into it. Stepping into the wrong one can get you killed.”
“I’ll do that, Mister…” he looked at me with a questioning expression.
“Kade, Mathew Kade.”
“Oh.” He looked surprised. “We were expecting you later this week. The next caravan is still two days out.”
“I don’t use caravans.”
“Then it must not be as bad as they say.”
“It is,” I said. “But some people are better left alone. I usually travel through zones where they know that. Others find out the hard way.”
“Anyway, Mister Wilderman is in the Great Hall, Mister Kade. Go straight through the entrance and cross to the double doors. The guards there will tell him you’re here.”
I looked back at the people on the streets.
I guess, if there are zones like this, there may be some hope after all for this Fallen World.
* * *
Chapter 2
“You must be Kade,” the big man said as I entered the Great Hall.
He was over six feet tall and dressed in a nice, old-world suit.
“Wilderman,” I answered with a nod. “Gotta say, my curiosity was piqued when I got the message you wanted to see me. Last time I was here, this zone was a lot smaller.”
“True.” He nodded. “And there was a whole building full of dead people.”
“If it helps, they were pretty bad people.”
“Were they?”
“Bad enough. Wanted to cut into my brain and see what it looked like. I didn’t like the idea.”
“And the stories began about the ‘beast’ who came out of that place.”
“I don’t take offense.” I shrugged. “Fella who walked out of that place was pretty beastly. What I’m curious about is why you asked me to come back. Frankly, I expected you to try to arrest me. Then, things would have gotten ugly.”
“Why did you come if that’s what you expected?”
“Expect the worst. You’ll never be disappointed.”
He stared at me for a moment, then started laughing. “That’s what I’ve been telling these bastards for years.”
I looked at the small man to Wilderman’s left. He shrugged and nodded. “He has.”
“I’m rarely disappointed,” Wilderman said.
“Same here,” I returned.
“This is going much better than I expected,” he said. “And I’m not disappointed. I don’t want to arrest you, if that makes you feel any better. I’d like to hire you for a job. I heard you’ve been pretty busy lately. I’m hearing about a nice little chunk of this city that’s going through some changes.”
“That’s the Society,” I said. “They’re trying to clean things up a bit.”
“I heard it began with you. As a matter of fact, I spoke with the Matron recently. She said something about a certain fellow who keeps dropping presents on her doorstep. A zone run by a mad man is suddenly under new management and requesting a Chapter House. A couple of others lost their Warlords and would also like Chapter Houses. I even heard about a new alliance forming in those zones and several surrounding them.”
“I just did my job,” I said. “Shit happens.”
“She said something similar. Things seem to happen around you. When I talked to her, she suggested you for the job I have in mind.”
“What kind of job?” I asked.
“I need someone to escort a valuable person across the zones to Kathrop. She has the College, and my daughter wants to attend.”
“What about a caravan?”
“The problem with caravans is the time they take to cross. They move slowly, and they stop throughout the city,” he said. “Mister Kade, I have enemies. You don’t build something like this without enemies.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “But there’s safety in numbers.”
“I have numerous enemies.”
“Alright.” I nodded. “Pretty long trip. Probably take two days, unless you want us to travel nights. But doing so would put your daughter in more danger.”
“A caravan would keep her in the streets for nearly a week. Two days is much better. No need to travel nights if you have a safe place to stay.”
“I do.”
“Then you’ll take the job?”
“Depends,” I said.
“I assume you’re talking about pay?”
“Guy’s gotta make a living.”
“Escort and bodyguard duty,” he said. “Five thousand seem fair to you?”
“I can deal with that.” I nodded. “When do you want us to move out?”
“I wasn’t planning on her leaving for another two days.”
“Okay,” I said. “I want to look around anyway. Haven’t been here in a while.”
“I’ll have a
room prepared for you.”
“No need,” I said. “I’ll stay down the road a piece. I had a nice room last time I was here.”
I could see he wasn’t pleased but, when he looked into the dead eyes of someone else, he decided not to say anything.
Instead, he nodded.
“I’ll be here bright and early.”
I turned and strode out of the large meeting room filled with people.
Trap? One of the many voices asked.
“Not sure who it’s for,” I muttered. “If it’s me, he’ll need more men.”
I expect the trap is for someone else, Mathew, Childers said. Perhaps one of those gents in that room.
“I expect so,” I said.
“What, sir?” The same young guard I spoke to earlier asked as I walked by.
“Nothin’,” I answered. “Just talkin’ to myselves.”
“Umm…”
“Don’t worry about it, kid.”
I grinned and walked on past the young Redcoat. My head was probably the best place I knew for decent conversation in this Fallen World.
* * *
Chapter 3
The dark building looked much the same as it did seventeen years earlier. I remembered bits and pieces of what happened here. I remembered the pain more than anything. But there was a time before that when someone had helped me. I couldn’t thank him at the time, but he kept me alive.
Then the “doctors” arrived. I shook my head and pushed those memories aside. They’d paid for their sins with their lives. One day, I hoped to meet the other guy, though. He was an Agent. It had taken an Agent to restrain me when the madness came over me.
“Stands to reason he’ll still be around, somewhere,” I muttered.
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