Warden 1

Home > Fantasy > Warden 1 > Page 29
Warden 1 Page 29

by Isaac Hooke


  She retracted the humming blade and it vanished into the top of her wrist.

  She returned her attention to Will.

  “Bardain?” she asked.

  Will shook his head sadly. “The old bastard didn’t make it. I’m sorry. We found his corpse straddled over your body like a shield. When I reviewed the logs of nearby security cameras, I discovered he fought to the very end, protecting you after you went down.”

  She blinked away the tears and looked away.

  “We won,” Will said.

  Rhea nodded. “That’s good. His death wasn’t for nothing, then. None of the deaths were.”

  “Well, depends on your point of view,” Will said. “If Aradne hadn’t done this in the first place, no one would have died. So I hope you’re not blaming yourself. Blame them.”

  “Oh, I do.” She sighed and gazed at her body. “Thank you for this by the way. I don’t know how I’m going to pay you back. Looks expensive. Guess I’m going to have to spend the next year salvaging.”

  Will smiled patiently. “Forget about that… there’s no need. The citizens of Rust Town banded together to get you the spare parts you needed. They paid for this body. And you’re right, it’s definitely expensive.”

  Rhea started blubbering. “I can’t believe they’d do something so nice for me.”

  “You deserved it,” Will said. “They believed you were instrumental to the victory. You brought them all together. Showed them they could win. You could have run away like Horatio and I, but you didn’t. You’re a hero.”

  The tears came even stronger.

  Will held a pair of small collection tubes beneath her eyes, and she felt the suction as Will vacuumed up her tears. “Careful, conserve as much water as you can.”

  “Why?” She shoved aside the tubes and wiped at her cheeks, willing herself to stop crying.

  “The city has cut off Rust Town’s water supply,” Will explained.

  “What?” Rhea sat up. “We can’t allow that!”

  Will shrugged. “Probably won’t last for long. The people of Rust Town are in full revolt.”

  “Has Aradne admitted to sending the bioweapons?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” he told her. “Though it seems obvious to most of the locals that it was them, considering what they did to the water. Everyone who climbed the wall and claimed asylum? The city sent them right back into the slums when the bioweapons were gone.”

  “But there’s nothing here,” she said. “This place is in ruins.”

  “Some neighborhoods actually made it through the battle unscathed,” he said. “And of course, the rebuilding has already begun in those places that were hit hardest. That’s the nice thing about having cargo containers and lean-tos for homes: it doesn’t take long to put up new ones. Especially when you have a whole settlement full of raw material for your 3D printers.”

  She gazed at him uncertainly. “We have to help them get their water supply restored.”

  Will sighed. “Though I’m not sure there’s much we can do, I was afraid you were going to say that. So, I take it you don’t want me to hook you up with my pro gamer friends? So you can live the life of a streamer?”

  She shook her head. “No. I suspect drone racing isn’t in my future anymore. Wait.” She looked searchingly into his face. “You’re talking like my salvaging days are over. What about my debt? I’m not even close to paying it off.”

  Will shrugged. “You’re not in debt anymore. Like I said, the residents pitched in and donated quite a bit. You’re a free woman, now.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You should get up. You have a few fans who want to see you.”

  Will deactivated the overhead light; now that she didn’t have it shining blindingly into her eyes, she took a moment to survey her surroundings. She appeared to be in a cramped bedroom of some kind.

  “We’re in Bardain’s place,” Will said.

  Rhea nodded sadly, and reluctantly arose.

  Will led her out of the room and into a cramped hallway. They passed different doors before entering the spartan foyer of the lean-to. She gazed at the familiar guest chair and table, remembering a time when Bardain had given her leave to sit there so she could wait for Horatio after her lessons.

  The pair crossed to the door, and Will beckoned her forward.

  Rhea opened it.

  A throng had gathered outside, stretching across the street and filling the road in both directions. People even crowded the rooftops of the lean-tos and cargo containers across the way.

  Confused, she glanced at Will. “They’re all here for me?”

  Will nodded.

  It was so very overwhelming. Once again, she felt her eyes watering.

  Will wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

  “It’s the Warden!” someone called from the back. “The Protector of Rust Town!”

  A cheer arose. “Warden! Warden! Warden!”

  It was quickly taken up by the crowd.

  “Warden!”

  “Warden!”

  “Warden!”

  Rhea quickly shut the door and backed away into the foyer.

  “I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t face them. I’m no hero. Good men and women died to protect this settlement. I’m one of the lucky ones who lived. I can’t dishonor their memory by trying to take credit for something I didn’t do. I didn’t even see the task through—I fell to the bioweapons before the city was liberated.”

  “Don’t be like that,” Will said. “Get out there. You have to. You are a hero.”

  “I’m not,” she insisted.

  “Look dude, you’ve faced bioweapons the size of houses, creatures with multiple heads,” Will said. “This is nothing in comparison.”

  She could still hear the cries of “warden” coming from outside.

  “Why are they doing this?” she said. “What do they want? How do they even know me?”

  “Videos of what you did have gone viral on all the streaming sites,” Will explained. “You’re famous now. It’s one of the drawbacks of living in the modern age, where anyone can become a citizen journalist courtesy of the cameras we all wear. It’s very easy to stream someone doing something heroic.” He smiled. “They call you the Warden of Rust Town. You say you have no followers? Well you have a few now.” When she didn’t answer, he pressed on. “Come on, dude. Go talk to your fans. Take some selfies. You know, do what famous people do. They’re not leaving until you do…”

  Rhea sighed. “I never wanted this.”

  Will shrugged. “I’m sure it won’t last for long.”

  “Of course it won’t,” she said. “When they find out what a fraud I am. I didn’t save their city. Instead I got my body torn to pieces.”

  “It’s not a matter of whether your body survived to the end,” he told her. “It’s the sheer bravery you showed. The heart. What you did, the actions of one brave cyborg, drove an entire settlement to fight, uniting people and robots of all makes, models and cliques to achieve the impossible: defeating a far more powerful foe that sought to destroy them. The fact that you were willing to give up your life for them thawed many hearts.”

  She turned toward Will and then wrapped him in a tight hug.

  The hallway door opened behind her and Horatio entered the foyer. “They’re calling for you.”

  She released Will and glanced at the robot. “Give me your hand.”

  Horatio did so.

  With her other hand she took Will’s, then turned toward the door. “If I’m going to do this, I can’t do it alone.”

  Will squeezed her palm. “We’re here.”

  Rhea nodded. “All right.” She gazed at the closed door, and straightened, steeling herself. “Let’s do this.”

  Will opened the door.

  Hand-in-hand, the trio walked outside.

  Epilogue

  Veil, Scourge of the North, shut down the streaming video feed and frowned.

  “The Dagger is making quite the name for herself,”
she commented. “No thanks to you.”

  The Scorpion bowed his head in shame. Her assassin had returned in a sorry state. When Veil reviewed his logs, she discovered his main power cell had been perforated—the resultant short had drained most of his backup unit. His mind-machine interface had automatically switched to stasis mode, so that the trickle power from the backup would be enough to keep him alive, flexing his artificial lungs just enough to meet the brain’s reduced oxygen requirements. The backup cell was regenerative, however, and finally repaired itself enough to produce the charge necessary for consciousness.

  His anti-salvage measures had also activated while he was under, so that his most essential components switched to a simulated short-out mode, faking damage that would deter casual salvagers. The Dagger would have known about that particular mode, however. That lent credit to the Scorpion’s theory that her mind had been wiped, considering the Dagger and her crew had only taken his arms and legs. Unless she was merely putting on an act for Veil.

  In any case, the Scorpion had been forced to use his tail to drag himself through the cave, worming like a caterpillar with no legs, until he reached the entrance and activated his recall beacon. Veil had hired a collection crew to retrieve him and deducted the necessary funds from his bank account as punishment, along with her usual twenty percent failure fee.

  “Shall I find another to take this job?’ Veil asked.

  The Scorpion glanced up. “No. I can do this. No one gets the better of the Scorpion and lives to tell the tale.”

  Veil smiled coldly. “Good. Because Khrusos has quadrupled the price on her head.”

  The Scorpion grinned, eyes glinting greedily.

  BOOK 2: Rhea, Will and Horatio return to fight another day in Warden 2, available on Amazon at https://readerlinks.com/l/1054280

  Or discover how Will and Horatio first met in the prequel novella, Salvage, available for free here: https://bookhip.com/WBMXLC

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.

  Get in touch:

  isaachooke.com

  [email protected]

  Join my VIP Facebook group: facebook.com/groups/746265619213922

  Copyright © 2020 by Isaac Hooke

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.IsaacHooke.com

 

 

 


‹ Prev