Extensis Vitae: The Shattered Land

by Gregory Mattix

  Contents

  Title

  Front Matter

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Author's Note

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Teaser

  Extensis Vitae:

  The Shattered Land

  Gregory Mattix

  Extensis Vitae: The Shattered Land

  Copyright © 2013 by Gregory Mattix

  Cover Art by Michael Gauss

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Isaac sat atop the old school bus and drummed his dangling feet against its side. The sun-faded bus, decades older than he was, blocked the entrance to Main Street. A confused tangle of objects had been formed into the haphazard wall encircling the small town of Planter’s Ridge. Old vehicles, mortared bricks, pieces of sheet metal, tires, and any other materials that would be sturdy enough to ward off an assault had been stitched together as if pulled through a giant sewing machine. Razor wire topped the entire eight-foot wall, except for the bus where the guards usually sat. Dents and bullet holes stitched the outward side of the bus, which had spikes welded into it to prevent would-be attackers from getting too close.

  The sun sank below the hills on the horizon. Isaac rubbed his exposed arms briskly as he tried to ward off the chill and wished he had brought his coat with him for his rotation on guard duty. Lights began flickering on in town. Seeing Hank light one of the torches on the watchtower at the opposite end of Main Street, Isaac stood up and lit the torch at his post as well. The oil-soaked rag lit up quickly as the tiny flame from his lighter licked at it.

  Isaac paced the length of the bus, peering into the darkness. The broken surface of roadway leading up to the town gate was empty, and the wind whistled across the plain. He didn’t hear the crickets, the distant howls of hunting coyotes, or any of the other normal wasteland sounds that he was accustomed to hearing.

  Goose bumps formed on his arms as the chilly breeze blew, and he cursed at forgetting his coat. The night seemed unnaturally still… as if something was out there watching him.

  He briefly considered calling out to Hank but decided against it. The other man would probably just laugh and think him a coward. Isaac was determined to prove that he was up to the task of being one of the town’s protectors like the older men. Squinting into the darkness, he clutched the strap of the hunting rifle more tightly where it dug into his shoulder. What was that? Did something just move? Was that some kind of reflection?

  “Hey, Isaac!” someone hollered from behind him.

  Isaac jumped and spun around, his heart beating furiously. “Jesus, Abby, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

  Abby grinned up at him from the street below. Whatever irritation he felt at first was gone as soon as he saw that smile. Abby was a cute, slim brunette who kept her hair cut short, making her look almost boyish. Isaac didn’t mind her short hair. He thought she was adorable and had been trying to get her to notice him for a while. She seemed interested in him of late, as evidenced by the covered bowl she carried.

  “Brought you some stew,” she called. “You should get something warm in your stomach—it’s cold out here.” She clutched her thin coat tighter around herself and held up the bowl.

  “Thanks, Abby.” Isaac walked down the scaffold a few steps until he could reach the bowl. “Hey, would you mind bringing my coat out? I left it on my cot, I think.”

  “Sure. Be right back.” She shot him another smile and trotted off down the street.

  Isaac sat back down on top of the bus and began digging into the stew. It was a thick, greasy broth with chunks of vegetables and some kind of tough, stringy meat. A stale hunk of bread wallowed in the gravy like an old boat. The meal tasted delicious and warmed Isaac’s belly. He took a nip of schnapps from his flask, and that helped even more to take the edge off the cold. He thought about how nice it would be to snuggle up with Abby in his cot on a chilly night like this. As that scene played out in his mind, he yawned and stretched.

  The clatter of what sounded like a loose stone being kicked caught his attention. He squinted into the darkness beyond the wall, but all was still. Must have been Abby. He turned around with a smile on his face, but Abby was just now coming out of the door to his quarters fifty yards away. Weird… anyone else down there? He peered down on the inner side of the bus, but no townspeople were nearby. Abby passed a streetlight with his coat in hand, and he saw her smile when she noticed him looking in her direction. He smiled back.

  The bus suddenly lurched beneath him as if some massive weight had been dropped on it. Isaac wobbled as he fought to keep his balance. He whirled around, trying to slide the rifle off his shoulder at the same time. He felt a rush of air as if someone was moving past him, but still he saw nothing.

  A sudden agony flared in his stomach. He looked down and saw his shirt pushed in and blood soaking it. Blood began streaming out sideways, suspended in midair as if coating an invisible blade. What the fuck—immediately the pain intensified as the thing twisted in his guts. Blood suddenly erupted outward along with his guts as the unseen blade was withdrawn. He gurgled and flopped backward onto the bus as the strength went out of his legs. His cheek hit the cold metal, and in the roof of the bus, he noticed a large dent that hadn’t been there a minute earlier.

  The unseen assailant moved past him, and then the bus rocked again as though the heavy weight was removed. There was a heavy thud below on the street inside the perimeter of the town.

  Isaac dragged himself on his belly toward the scaffold on the inside of the wall, not aware that his intestines were trailing behind him. The switch that triggered the siren was attached to a pole on the scaffold a couple feet away.

  “Abby,” he called out weakly. “Run!”

  He could see Abby frozen in place about a dozen yards away, her mouth open in shock as she stared at Isaac and the blood that had erupted from him. He didn’t know if she had heard him, so he tried to call out again but only managed to cough up a gout of blood.

  Suddenly, something passed between Abby and the closest streetlight. Isaac could see Abby’s image shimmer and distort as the light was displaced by whatever had attacked him. Glistening drops of blood rolled slowly down what looked like pure air and left a crimson trail on the dusty street.

  Abby screamed, evidently having seen the same distorted image. Her scream suddenly choked off, and she doubled over as if struck in the stomach. Isaac’s coat fell out of her hand, and then Abby levitated into the air as if by some parlor magic trick. Isaac could imagine her being th
rown across a massive, invisible shoulder. What the hell is that thing? he wondered.

  The bus shuddered again as something else leaped onto it. In desperation, Isaac reached out and grasped the scaffold pole. The bus rocked a second time, and he heard a growling intake of breath nearby. With his last remaining strength, Isaac pulled himself to one knee and flipped the switch on the alarm. The siren wailed mournfully, shattering the suffocating stillness that gripped Planter’s Ridge.

  As Isaac collapsed back onto the roof of the ancient school bus, he rolled to his side to try to see what the intruders looked like. He almost wished he hadn’t when he saw the immense, dark-skinned form that towered over him. A massive fist carried a large, serrated blade. Isaac’s eyes traveled up the creature’s long, powerful arm to its brilliant green eyes, glowing like backlit jewels. The creature’s lips pulled back, and it displayed its gleaming fangs. Glowing faintly in the darkness, green tendrils covered its body like small roots growing through its flesh. Isaac’s last thought was that the serrated blade was actually a part of its arm, before it slashed down and everything went dark.

  Chapter 1

  The hazy air was thick with the taste of dried bones as the blazing sun desiccated the stark wasteland under its withering rays. The heat of the afternoon was a blast furnace that threatened to cook any form of life. The only thing that moved out on the endless plains was dust and tumbleweeds stirred up by an occasional gust of wind.

  Michael Reznik spat out some grit that had gotten into his parched mouth. He hadn’t tasted dried bones, of course, but the forlorn place made him think of the billions that had died when the earth had shattered from the Cataclysm of twenty years past. The taste was filled in by his imagination. His clothes clung to his back as he sweated under the blistering sun. Although his HUD indicated the date as late September, it felt like summer in Baghdad.

  Reznik suspected he might have keeled over from heatstroke in his old body. Luckily, his new technologically advanced body was able to resist the sun and heat as well as it could resist damage. None of that meant he was comfortable, however, just that he was not likely to die from exposure any time soon. The old-fashioned Red Baron–style goggles he had found in the bike’s saddlebag kept the dirt out of his eyes. They might have looked silly, but they were effective.

  His hoverbike hummed along smoothly as he and his companion raced across the desert. A clever piece of technology, the bike was powered by fuel cells and was suspended in the air by twin rotors at the front and back. A small jet thruster on the back provided propulsion. It reminded Reznik of something out of a Star Wars movie although this bike wasn’t as fast or maneuverable as those from the movies.

  The mysterious woman that called herself Rin rode beside him. Her petite figure leaned forward across the bike, presenting a very small profile. Her long blonde ponytail flapped in the wind and her eyes were hidden behind the tinted goggles she wore. As they crested a ridge, she glanced over at him briefly and pointed ahead on the right.

  A lifeless dust bowl of a valley spread out below them; neither trees nor grass grew anywhere in sight. In the distance, Reznik could see what looked like the skyline of a ruined cityscape. The remains of an elevated highway became visible off to their right as they drew closer to the city. The pavement had crumbled and fallen apart long ago, leaving the highway to dead end in a cliff of broken concrete and jutting rebar. The hulks of rusted, long-abandoned cars dotted the highway. A deep gully below the collapsed portion of overpass was filled with slabs of rubble and crushed vehicles.

  His eyes shifted ahead to the ruined cityscape. This was the first sign of civilization they had seen since departing the underground bunker at dawn. He felt a strong urge to stop and explore just to see what was left of civilization.

  With a thought, Reznik zoomed in his vision, and the view sharpened with only a slight blurring around his focal point, like the seamless zoom from a camera lens. Details snapped into focus. It looked to be a fairly small city; he could make out the collapsed ruins of some decent-sized buildings, but the majority of what he could see looked to be one- or two-story homes and small businesses. An ancient water tower had keeled over on collapsed legs, like some type of proud metal warrior that had finally succumbed to its wounds.

  I wonder if these buildings are in ruins just from age and abandonment or because of some natural disaster. With all this flat terrain, we could be in Tornado Alley.

  Reznik wondered again how Rin stayed comfortable straddling her bike for hours on end. His neck, back, and thighs were cramped and sore after riding all day. The hot wind buffeted his torso as he reached for the sky in a long stretch, trying to work the kinks out of his back and neck.

  A flash from the highway overpass drew his attention, and just as he recognized a muzzle flash for what it was, a bullet struck him squarely in the chest. By stretching, Reznik had presented an attractive target; the force of the surprise round along with the buffeting of the wind was enough to topple him backward off the bike.

  He found himself eating dirt, tumbling end over end on the hard ground. Dirt filled his mouth, and the goggles were ripped from his head. He finally came to a stop, faceup, looking into the hazy blue sky. He groaned and fought to clear his senses. With a quick glance at his HUD, he could tell his dermal plating had absorbed the bullet. As he sat up, he saw that the bike had coasted to a stop about fifty yards away.

  Another muzzle flash flared atop the ruined highway overpass. This time, he heard the shot ring out a second or so after the flash. Rin veered her bike to the side and then punched the throttle. Her hoverbike raced off in the direction of the overpass a quarter mile away.

  Shit, he thought as he picked himself up off the ground and ran for his bike.

  ***

  Rin had seen the muzzle flash in her peripheral vision and looked over just as Reznik got dumped off his bike after foolishly displaying a large profile for any snipers. She hunched a bit lower over her own bike and veered toward the highway bridge just as the sniper fired again from the overpass. She swerved out of reflex even though the round passed harmlessly by and then gunned the throttle and raced toward the highway.

  Up ahead, several figures moved among the wrecked vehicles in what appeared to be a marauder encampment. Another round from the sniper whizzed close to Rin, and then she was at the highway in under ten seconds. A concrete Jersey barrier loomed in front of her, and she veered the bike parallel to the highway. The marauders had drawn weapons and moved up to the barrier.

  She hopped up carefully onto the seat of the bike. Then she sprang over the Jersey barrier and onto the highway, knowing the bike would ease to a stop a short distance away.

  Rin twisted in a somersault in midair and drew her katana in one smooth motion. The blade severed the wrist of a gun-wielding marauder in one motion as she came down in the midst of the ambushers. They rushed in close as soon as her feet hit the ground. She spun, sword arcing out and disemboweling two of them in one slash. The others thought better of the tactic of rushing her and hastily scrambled back out of the reach of her blade.

  A quick glance revealed four attackers still on their feet, not counting the unseen sniper higher up on the overpass. A large, bearded man came at her, swinging a tire iron. She easily sidestepped his charge and stabbed him through the ribs, the blade piercing his lung. With a wet cry, he fell to his knees, the tire iron clattering loudly on the pavement.

  A thin woman with a hideous burn scar on the side of her face screamed something unintelligible and flung a knife at her. Rin deflected it with her katana and took a step toward the woman, who fell back in surprise and fumbled at her belt for another knife.

  Bang. Rin lurched forward as a bullet struck her in the shoulder blade. Whirling around, she saw a man aiming a pistol at her face from ten yards away. A nearby woman with an AK-47 chambered a round and raised the gun to fire.

  Rin went to one knee and whipped her katana around in a circle in front of her, twirling it like a baton. The air
thrummed as the keen blade carved through the air. The marauders began firing, and bullets ricocheted off the spinning blade, slamming into the wrecked vehicles and Jersey barriers around them.

  With a quick glance behind her, she saw the woman with the knives moving to strike at her back. Rin rolled onto her back while still protecting herself from the hail of bullets with the spinning blade. She quickly shifted the sword to put it between her and the attacking woman. The woman was in mid-strike, and her momentum carried her forward into Rin’s twirling katana.

  The sword sliced through the woman’s knee. With a screech, she fell forward on top of Rin and the spinning katana. The knife flew out of her hand as it connected with the sword blade, and then her fingers were sliced off, followed by chunks of her hands. Blood splattered everywhere before Rin stopped the blade.

  A couple bullets struck Rin in the legs before the gunfire stopped. She shoved the butchered woman to the side and eyed the shooters. They both looked shocked at the mess made of their comrade. Their eyes locked with hers, and she saw fear there. That’s good, she thought. They bit off more than they could chew. Rin smiled. She tightened her abs and rolled back onto her shoulder blades before launching to her feet with a kip-up. Her attackers fumbled to reload, but they were much too slow. Their heads tumbled to the pavement.

  Rin surveyed the damage. Three were dead, three bleeding out. That left the last one, whose hand she had cut off. The man leaned back against one of the rusted hulks and cradled his stump with some rags pressed against it.

  “Please, lady… have mercy,” he pleaded, eyes averted. She approached within a couple steps, sword extended. Gently, she raised the man’s chin with the point of the blade and looked him in the eyes. There was no fear there—only a look of cunning.