“This cannon must be pretty big,” Donald said.
“Massive,” Dr. Beck said. “Words cannot even express its sheer size.”
“And it’s there to destroy an alien ship in our orbit?” Donald said, shaking his head. “You couldn’t make this stuff up.”
Each room he cleared, he added to his personal arsenal of fighting tools. A hammer, multiple knives, and a larger tray to use as a shield. It was amazing the things people had on them before they became a Rage. They had been fighting to escape, to survive. That was why they were always armed, he supposed.
“One more corridor and we’ll be at the Weapon Research Unit,” Dr. Beck said. “Then we can get properly suited up.”
“I thought we were heading for the basement?” Donald said. “Get to the basement, then hop on a, what was it called, a train?”
“The hyperloop,” Dr. Beck said. “The Weapon Research Unit is on the way. Properly armed, we can kill a lot more of these things a lot easier. I’ll help out, firing from the sidelines.”
“What do I need more sophisticated weapons for?” Donald said, holding up his snapped-off bed leg. “This baby is the ultimate Rage killer.”
“We have better bludgeons,” Dr. Beck said.
“All right,” Donald said, sighing. “What does the next corridor look like?”
“Four,” Dr. Beck said. “At the opposite end of the corridor.”
“At the other end?” Donald said. “It’s not even a challenge. Let’s get this show on the road. Open it.”
The slats on the door began to shift, unshuttering from the bottom. It was a slow, noisy process. Not exactly the ideal combination for a Rage hunt. The Rages shrieked, hearing the sound and began running toward him at full pelt. Two of them were slower, limping on badly-disfigured limbs and clubbed feet.
Donald swung the leg around lazily, knocking the creatures to the floor, then bludgeoned them mercilessly with the blunt end. Next came the slower Rages. These ones were even easier to deal with.
Destroying Rages could, at times, be boring work. It entailed doing the same thing over and over. Monotonous and dull. It was actually a good thing. The people who ended up dead were always the showoffs. They tried to get fancy, changing a winning system. The ones who stayed alive did what was necessary and moved on. Nothing fancy. Just the basics.
The game then became how many he could kill, and how fast. That ensured he focused on doing the simplest of movements as fast as possible without needing to get caught up in the more impressive-looking but ultimately riskier moves.
Their bodies were twitching, attempting to move without the aid of their brains—what little brains they still had the use of. Dr. Beck sailed past and moved to the door at the end. He swiped his card across the keypad. A green light flashed and the door opened.
Another ultra-modern room with tables and computers along the walls. Broken glass shards on the floor. Donald could see where they’d come from. Further up, on either wall, were unbroken glass boxes with weapons inside.
“Why have some of the boxes been smashed open already?” Donald said, lifting his cudgel in preparation for an impending attack. “I thought you said this room was clear.”
“It is,” Dr. Beck said. “Your kids and I came here before to get suited up.”
“My kids were here?” Donald said.
“Yes,” Dr. Beck said, selecting his own weapons. “I brought them here before taking them to the hyperloop.”
Donald looked at the glass shards and imagined his kids smashing them to get at the weapons inside. Like Christmas. His kids were strong, tough, the way Mountain Peak bred them. They would fight, he knew, fight till there was no breath left in their bodies. The thought made him sad.
He turned and walked through the long room. Ancient weapons he knew well hung in suspended animation in their glass prisons. The people who’d resided at the City had had no use for weapons. Probably didn’t even know how to swing one effectively, he bet. That was why they’d gotten run over by the Rages so easily. If they’d had some basic training they could have held the Rages back. Theory and knowledge only got you so far.
They’d had a real need for people like Donald, people with training and fewer scruples against causing harm and violence to others. But they had no soldiers here. It was a tragic mistake. That wouldn’t happen in the future, not if Donald was a part of this City and had any say over how it was operated and maintained.
He selected a tall axe and threw the glass case on the floor. He checked its weight and balance, rolling it over his hands in a circle and thrusting first with the axe blade, then the pointed end. It was a wonderful weapon. He couldn’t wait to use it. He also selected a bow and quiver.
There was another door. Were there more weapons in there?
He pushed the door open. The sight took his breath away. This one displayed modern weapons. Guns, grenade launchers, assault rifles. What he wouldn’t have given to have access to this room during the numerous Reaver and Rage attacks over the years. They would never have suffered a defeat.
He was a little hesitant about heading into the next room. After all, if what he’d seen in the previous two rooms were any indication, the next room would be even more powerful than the last. He expected missiles, nukes, and drones, but instead, the level of technology had taken a quantum leap forward. So far forward, in fact, that many of the weapons hadn’t even been built yet, only designed in blueprint form on the walls. These weapons looked nothing like anything he had ever seen before. They looked alien, out of this world.
“These are the weapons we were working on,” Dr. Beck said. “Backward engineered from Bug technology that crash landed here decades ago.”
“How powerful are these things?” Donald said.
“You can try one out if you like,” Dr. Beck said.
“No, I mean the Bugs,” Donald said. “Do we have any chance at all of defeating them? Honestly?”
“Yes, of course,” Dr. Beck said. “But not with our own primitive technology. We had to backward engineer theirs to give us even a small chance of victory. Even this tech is old by their standards. There’s no telling how advanced they might be now.”
It was only then that Donald understood the odds they were up against.
“These Bug creatures hold the winning cards,” Donald said. “Don’t they?”
“Yes,” Dr. Beck said. “I’m afraid so. All but one. Their level of advanced technology has, we believe, given them a huge sense of superiority. For obvious reasons. We are cockroaches compared to them. Or, we were.”
“I don’t see how that’s a losing card,” Donald said. “They are more advanced than us. They can kick our ass with ease.”
“That’s what they think,” Dr. Beck said. “They don’t expect us to attack them. Especially not now. They think they have us beat.”
“They do have us beat,” Donald said. “They sent a Bug after Lucy. That means they know we’re up to something.”
“Not necessarily,” Dr. Beck said. “They might have seen her escape the City when they sent the Rages in to attack. They didn’t want anyone to survive. They might have thought she was a regular girl.”
Donald picked his favourite automatic weapon: the AK-47. Simple, powerful, reliable. He added an ammo belt to his setup. He didn’t believe in carrying too many weapons. Too many weapons slowed you down. Most of the time, a good hand-to-hand weapon was all you needed. You simply had to ensure you didn’t get yourself into a position where you needed to use loud, brash weapons.
“Dr. Beck?” Donald said.
“Yes, Donald?” Dr. Beck said.
“If I don’t get through this alive, will you tell my kids something for me?” Donald said.
“You can tell them yourself,” Dr. Beck said.
“I mean, in case I don’t make it,” Donald said.
“You can still tell them yourself,” Dr. Beck said.
“I just said—” Donald said, beginning to get irritated.
&nbs
p; “No,” Dr. Beck said. “I mean, use a camera to record your message. When they get back to the City, they can watch it and rewatch it to their heart’s content. But I’m sure you’ll get through this. You’re big and strong. You’ve already lived through something that would kill most men.”
“It almost killed me too,” Donald said, putting a hand to his stomach. “I would like to record those messages for my kids.”
“Come to this console,” Dr. Beck said. “I’ll set it up. When you’re ready, hit the record button. I’ll leave you alone so you’re more comfortable.”
“Thanks,” Donald said.
He took a seat in front of the computer. It was easy to forget modern technology when you were so used to living hand to mouth with only the most rudimentary systems and tools available. Dr. Beck explained the controls and left the room.
Donald didn’t press the record button yet. He needed to formulate what he wanted to say. There was too much and it became a jumble in his mind. He’d wing it, he decided.
He hit the record button and spoke into the camera. He hoped they would never see it. If he couldn’t say these words to them in person, it meant he was already dead.
8.
THE REMAINING rooms to the basement were swept easily with Dr. Beck as his backup. He fired at outlying Rages with his crossbow. He actually wasn’t a bad shot. A rifle was strung about his shoulders: an FN scar.
Donald was a blurry tornado with his axe. He didn’t spin it to show off—the Rages couldn’t care less how skilled he was with it, Dr. Beck even less so—but to gather the speed necessary to cleanly sever heads. He also did it for timing purposes. He didn’t want to swing too early or too late, so by having a whirling blade about him at all times, he severed fingers, arms, and legs with gusto. His new shield, made of lightweight steel, was strapped to his back.
The final Rage fell to one of Dr. Beck’s bolts. A quivering slushpile of body parts and blood pooled on the floor.
“Are we getting close yet?” Donald said.
“Yes,” Dr. Beck said. “We’re about there. Can you cover me, please?”
It was the first time the doctor had taken the initiative. He opened a door. It was dark inside, not too welcoming. There was nothing inside.
“There’s a hatch in the floor,” Dr. Beck said.
Donald bent down to open it. A ladder led to further darkness below. He took a flare from his waistband and slapped his hand on the bottom. It sparked and hissed as he dropped it down the ladder. If there were any Rages down there, or anyone else for that matter, there was no way they could miss it. Nothing appeared.
“Seems to be clear,” Donald said.
He climbed the steps, pausing once when he was halfway down, casting around, before dropping the final short distance to the floor. He held his axe in both hands, scanning for Rages, ears perked and listening for a sign of anything unnatural.
The flare kicked up a cloud of smoke and cast the inside of the small capsule vibrant red. There were perhaps a dozen seats facing the same direction. He hadn’t seen anything like this since he was a boy. He remembered an older woman—his mother, perhaps?—taking him by the hand and leading him through a crowd, rushing for a train that would depart soon. There were so many sights and smells that he couldn’t take everything in. It’d been a cold day, his breath misting up in front of his face when he exhaled. There, watching from amongst the throng of people, was a large unblinking black eye.
“All clear,” he said, calling up through the hatch.
The doctor took his time as he scaled down the steps, difficult to negotiate with his bad leg. Donald’s attention was taken with something else, something on the window, where a low howling emanated.
Holes in the window. The lights flickered on, revealing two smashed lightbulbs, blown out by more bullets. And there. Several more tiny projectiles had struck the carriage roof. Donald put his fingers to the holes in the window. Cracks spread out across the surface, threatening to burst.
“What happened here?” Donald said.
Dr. Beck looked from Donald to the holes at his fingertips, and then at the ceiling.
“Perhaps the journey wasn’t as simple as first thought,” he said.
“Not as simple?” Donald said. “Where did you send my kids?”
He was a big man and his voice echoed in the tiny space.
“Let’s not lose our heads,” Dr. Beck said, holding up his hands. “I sent the kids away from the City to a safer place. I didn’t say it was totally without danger.”
“What happened to them?” Donald said. “What is at the end of this tunnel? Where does it lead?”
“The construction team made the bare bones of a station at Denver City,” Dr. Beck said. “There’s a commune there.”
“A commune?” Donald said. “What sort of commune?”
“A religious one,” Dr. Beck said. “They’re not dangerous. Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?” Donald said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, the kids would have been safe there,” Dr. Beck said.
Donald turned from the man, afraid he would belt him across the face if he had to look at him.
“What else have you been keeping from me, doctor?” Donald said. “What else do you know that you thought you shouldn’t tell me?”
“Nothing, I swear,” Dr. Beck said. “We were going to go there anyway. I didn’t think you needed to worry about what we would see along the way. I apologize. In future, I will tell you everything, even the things I think won’t be of much use.”
Donald turned to look at the bullet holes in the glass.
“My kids weren’t safe,” he said. “They needed to protect themselves from whatever came at them at the other end of this track. I swear to God, if they came to any harm I’ll murder every last one of those responsible.”
He turned his bloodshot, dangerous eyes on Dr. Beck.
“Including you, doctor,” he said. “For sending them there in the first place. My kids can defend themselves against Rages. They know how to do it. They’ve been doing it their entire lives. What they can’t defend themselves against is an unknown enemy.”
He snapped his rifle, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.
“I know how dangerous people can be,” he said. “Worse than the Rages, because they’re only animals, beasts without a conscience and working on automatic. But people. . . they can be dark and selfish and deadly, capable of far worse than any animal.”
He sat in a seat and put on the seatbelt.
“Turn this piece of junk on,” he said. “Take us to wherever the kids went.”
Dr. Beck had wanted a hardened man to tag along with him. He most certainly did not want a man hellbent on destroying anything and everything—including himself—in the process.
He took the tablet out of his pocket and activated the train. In his other hand, tucked in his pocket, he held a pistol. He pulled the hammer back as the pod locked down and began to drift forward.
There was no changing a train’s direction. Donald was very much the same.
9.
THE HYPERLOOP train was fast. Wicked fast. But Donald wasn’t impressed. He didn’t care how wondrous the hyperloop was or the other engineering marvels built before the Fall. He cared only about his children and getting to them as fast as humanly possible.
He stared out the front window, watching the craggy tunnel walls race past him. He held his assault rifle in both hands, glaring ahead. The steady unrelenting gaze of the mass murderer.
Dr. Beck was fully aware of how dangerous this man could be when he was in this mood. He’d seen what he was capable of when he was calm and serene. He would be a human tsunami of death if ever pushed over the edge.
The hyperloop train began to slow. Their destination was coming up. The pod wouldn’t reverse back until it was empty. It was the only way to ensure it wasn’t used by enemies intent on infiltrating the City.
Donald unfastened his seatbelt and g
ot to his feet. He moved to the door.
“Can you open the door now, Doctor?” Donald said.
“Now?” Dr. Beck said. “But we’re still moving.”
“If someone is waiting for us, they’ll do it at the station,” Donald said.
“The commune won’t hurt us,” Dr. Beck said, repeating himself.
“Something spooked my kids enough to open fire,” Donald said. “If they hadn’t felt threatened they would never have done that. Open the door.”
Dr. Beck sighed and accessed the controls on the tablet. He had to override the usual safety protocols. The door hissed open. The wind beat at Dr. Beck’s thinning hair.
“I realize you don’t approve of what I did,” Dr. Beck said, shouting over the roaring din, “but I hope one day you’ll learn to trust me.”
“Trust has to be earned,” Donald said.
And he leaped from the moving train. He landed and rolled, disappearing into the darkness. The train kept on moving for another few hundred yards before finally coming to a stop.
Dr. Beck climbed the steps down. He didn’t touch his weapon. He knew he would not need it. He used only his walking stick to track through the globe of light. He kept an eye on the fringes, where the light and dark convened, expecting something to appear there.
But nothing did.
He took three more hobbling steps before coming to a stop. Polished black boots had come to greet him.
“Hello,” Dr. Beck said.
“I am the Speaker for the Preacher,” the man said regally. “I come here to welcome you to Station where—”
“Allow me to introduce myself,” Dr. Beck said. “I am the Truth Bringer from the City. I come in peace.”
The Speaker, visibly shaken, took a step back, a look of horror on his face.
“The T. . . Truth Bringer?” he said.
“The one and only,” Dr. Beck said. “Are we going to have a problem here?”
“No,” the Speaker said, turning and hissing at the darkness behind him. “Everyone get back! Return to your homes! It’s the Truth Bringer!”
The Speaker turned and ran. The darkness writhed with sudden energy as a mass exodus of bodies turned and ran. It wasn’t more than three minutes later that Donald appeared at Dr. Beck’s shoulder.
After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set Page 44
