(Flipside 02) The Savageside [A]

by Jake Bible

  “So? Shoot them if they get curious,” Raff mumbled.

  “Please keep it down,” Dr. Xipan grumbled. “I prefer to sleep in peace.”

  “No more sleeping,” Cash said and banged the butt of his rifle against the side of the rear hatch. “We have three incoming wingers. Large wingers. Larger than anything I’ve seen before.”

  “That so?” Raff asked as he sat up and stretched. He fumbled about and found his rifle then stood and jumped out of the speed roller. He stretched some more then kept walking. “Let’s have a look at these larger than anything Trevon Cash as ever seen wingers.”

  “Doc? You can go up top with Haskins if you want a peek,” Cash said.

  “I am fine here,” Dr. Xipan said.

  Cash reached in and slapped her ankle.

  “It’s time to get up no matter what,” Cash said. “We take care of these wingers then break camp and start back toward Flipside BOP.”

  Dr. Xipan reluctantly sat up, rubbing her eyes. She blinked at Cash and frowned. “If we can find our way back. Have you forgotten the campfire story we were told last night?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten,” Cash said.

  “Then what is the point of breaking camp and leaving if we not only do not know which direction to go in, but we do not know where we are?” Dr. Xipan asked. “I would suggest we survey the area first using this location as our anchor point. Once we have established a sense of place, then we can work on a sense of direction.”

  “She’s right,” Barbara called from the cab, her voice coming from the open hatch between the hold and the cab. “You’re rushing things, Tre.”

  “He’s not rushing shit,” Raff said, appearing back by Cash’s side. “Because he’s not in charge. Dr. Xipan? I like your thinking. We explore today then we leave tomorrow.”

  “That is not enough time,” Dr. Xipan said.

  “Damn, lady, we’re in a time bubble according to Pytor,” Raff said. “Pretty sure we have all the time we need.”

  Then he was gone again and shouting up at Haskins who shouted back. The two men laughed.

  “We’re going to take care of these wingers,” Cash said. “You figure out a plan to grid as much of this area as we can in a day.”

  Cash left before Dr. Xipan could respond. He joined Raff who was leaning a shoulder against the side of the Russian speed roller which was parked at a ninety-degree angle to the Flipside speed roller, the vehicles’ front bumpers touching at the corners.

  “Yep. Those are big,” Raff said, pointing his chin at the three wingers that were flying in circles half a click off. “I thought they were headed this way? Looks to me like they’re waiting for air traffic control to give them the go-ahead to land.”

  “They’re giving us the stink eye,” Haskins said from his post. “Bastards are watching us.”

  “From there? Good eyesight,” Raff said.

  “Dr. Xipan is right,” Cash said. “We should grid this area then move on and grid another area until we’re out of this bubble.”

  “Works for me,” Raff said. Then he pushed off from the speed roller and stood at attention. “Now, that is interesting.”

  Cash followed his line of sight and saw a dust cloud forming on the horizon.

  “Herd?” Cash asked.

  He put his rifle to his shoulder and checked the scope, but all he saw was a closer image of a dust cloud forming on the horizon. No details to speak of.

  “Want to go check it out?” Cash asked.

  “Yes, Tre, we should go check out the dust cloud that is probably being made by a pack of teeth,” Raff said.

  “I heard sarcasm, but I also heard a yes,” Cash said.

  “I do love shooting teeth,” Raff said.

  The rear hatch of the Russian speed roller opened and Pytor stepped out, yawning. He glanced at Cash and Raff and nodded. Then he cocked his head and turned in the direction they were staring.

  “Oh. You should anchor your roller,” Pytor said.

  Cash and Raff exchanged glances.

  “Because…?” Raff asked.

  “Never had a pack of teeth knock over a roller yet,” Cash said.

  “Teeth?” Pytor asked.

  “Predators. Like T-rex. Lots of teeth so we call them teeth,” Cash said.

  “Oh. I see,” Pytor said, sounding like he did not see. He pointed at the dust cloud. “That is not teeth. That is a storm.”

  “A storm? A dust storm?” Raff asked. “Been through a few of those. The rollers will be fine as long as we seal everything up.”

  “No, you do not understand,” Pytor said. “That is not a dust storm like you are used to. It is much worse.”

  “Been through bad storms before too,” Raff said. “I was once in the middle of a hurricane in the Caribbean on a ship that was no more than—”

  Raff was interrupted by a far-off sound like gunfire followed by a low rumbling.

  “Huh,” Raff said. “That’s new.”

  Cash squatted and placed a hand to the ground.

  “I can feel a tremor,” Cash said.

  Raff joined him. “Shit. Earthquakes and a dust storm?”

  “We should anchor your roller,” Pytor said. “This is a bad one.”

  “You’ve been through this shit before?” Raff asked.

  Pytor pointed at his roller. The side was scored by all kinds of damage. Pytor’s finger indicated where some of the armored panels were buckled at their base.

  “That is with the roller anchored,” Pytor said. “The anchors broke off during the storm. We left them behind and have luckily not encountered a new storm since. Until now.”

  “I have a plan ready when you are willing to listen,” Dr. Xipan said from the rear of the speed roller.

  “Yeah, not now, Doc,” Raff said and pointed. “Looks like our grid mission is on hold.”

  Dr. Xipan joined Cash and Raff. She shielded her eyes and squinted at the horizon.

  “Is that electrical discharge?” she asked.

  “Kind of a personal question, don’t you think?” Raff replied and laughed. He was the only one that laughed. “Wrong time?”

  “Wrong time,” Cash said. He turned and looked up. “Haskins!”

  “Yeah?” Haskins asked as he peered over the edge of the speed roller.

  “You watch that storm and keep us posted as we secure the roller,” Cash said. “See if you can clock the speed of its approach.”

  “No problem,” Haskins said then glanced at the sky. “And the wingers?”

  “If they make a move, then shoot them out of the sky,” Cash replied. “Otherwise, they are not a priority.”

  “Clock the storm, shoot the wingers if needed,” Haskins said. “Roger that.”

  Haskins’ face disappeared and Cash returned to staring at the far-off storm. And the flashes within the storm that he now recognized as lightning strikes.

  “What do you think that will do to the systems?” Cash asked.

  “By anchoring the roller, you will also, how do you say? Ground it?” Pytor responded. “Is the interior of your roller shielded to electricity like our rollers?”

  “Yeah,” Raff said. “Layer of rubber behind and beneath the armor plating.”

  He rubbed his face over and over then turned and nodded.

  “Never had to anchor a roller before,” he said to Cash.

  “I have,” Cash said. “I’ll get on it.”

  ‘Thanks, pal,” Raff said.

  “What do you plan on doing?” Cash asked.

  “Help Pytor move his wounded buddy into the hold of our roller,” Raff said and looked at Pytor. “You don’t mind sheltering with us if the storm hits, do you?”

  “I would prefer it, thank you,” Pytor said. “Like I said, we had to leave our anchors behind.”

  Cash had started walking to the Flipside roller to begin the process of extending and securing the anchors that were folded up into each corner of the vehicle, as well as on each side. He paused, turned back, and studied the
Russian roller.

  “Dr. Xipan?” Cash asked.

  “Yes, Operator Cash?” Dr. Xipan replied.

  “You’re a geologist, but you know a few things about physics, right?” Cash asked.

  “A few things, yes,” Dr. Xipan said.

  “Would it be better if we moved the rollers side by side? Or should we move our roller as far away from the Russian roller as possible since it can’t be anchored?”

  Dr. Xipan though for a minute and Cash let her.

  “Can the anchors be removed from the Flipside roller and attached to the Russian roller?” Dr. Xipan asked.

  “Yes,” Cash said. “And that’s what we’ll do. Barb!”

  “What?” Barbara asked, peeking her head out of the cab.

  “I need you to move the roller and put it side by side with the Russian roller. And I mean side by side. I want the armor rubbing against armor,” Cash said.

  Barb frowned and stared at the Russian roller then nodded. “You’re gonna want to move.” Then she looked up. “Haskins! Hold tight!”

  “Sure, tell the one-armed guy to hold tight,” Haskins called down.

  “Lucas…”

  “Holding tight! Jeez…”

  Everyone got out of the way as Barbara started up the roller then moved it into place with Cash’s direction. It took a lot of maneuvering, with a good deal of cursing and shouting from both Barbara and Cash, but she managed to get the two rollers side by side with less than a millimeter of space between their side fenders.

  “Raff, you see if you can bolt the rollers to each other while I remove the anchors from these corners and put them on the Russian roller,” Cash said.

  “Aren’t I in charge?” Raff replied then smiled. “Kidding. On it.” Then he paused and pointed at Cash. “But, just so we’re clear, I am in charge.”

  “Of course,” Cash said.

  “That didn’t sound sincere.”

  “It was the sincerest.”

  “Hmmm…”

  Barbara hopped out of the Flipside speed roller and began helping Cash remove the anchors as Dr. Xipan and Pytor carefully got Yvgeny from the hold of the Russian roller and transferred him to the hold of the Flipside roller. Raff did a lot of cursing while he figured out how to bolt the two rollers together.

  An hour later and all tasks were complete. The group sat in the grass and faced the incoming storm, which had moved considerably closer in only sixty minutes. Raff handed out rations and everyone ate while they watched the storm swirl. Lightning illuminated the clouds again and again, highlighting just how large the storm was.

  “More wingers,” Haskins called around a mouthful of food. He was still on top of the Flipside roller, but was busy eating as much as he could as fast as he could. He swallowed hard and nodded in the direction of a flock off to the east of the storm. “Bunch of them.”

  “They’re trying to get ahead of the storm,” Pytor said. “There will probably be herds coming soon too.”

  “You bet there will be,” Raff said and took a drink of water. “Because weird bubble storms aren’t enough.”

  The three original wingers had been circling and circling the entire time that the group had worked to secure the rollers. Suddenly, they stopped circling and sped toward the camp.

  “Shit!” Haskins called. “Incoming!”

  Haskins fired and missed. But that didn’t seem to matter. The wingers paid the group no mind and flew by without even glancing down at the rollers and operators.

  “Huh,” Raff said. “Anyone else’s butthole pucker a little?”

  “They’ve had plenty of time to fly off, why now?” Cash asked.

  “The storm is gone,” Dr. Xipan said.

  Everyone had been watching the wingers fly off. Now they turned back to the storm and the doctor was right, it was gone. Some dust hung in the air on the horizon, but the massive storm was nowhere to be seen.

  “We must get inside now!” Pytor shouted. “Hurry!”

  “What? Why?” Raff asked. “The storm died, pal.”

  “No, it did not!” Pytor shouted and rushed to the rear hatch of the Flipside speed roller. “It has moved!”

  Before Raff could respond with a sarcastic comment, the air exploded around them and the ground shook violently.

  “Fuck!” Cash yelled and grabbed Barbara and Dr. Xipan by the arms, yanking them to the rear of the roller.

  He shoved the two women up into the hold ahead of himself where Pytor was already waiting, checking Yvgeny. Cash jumped in behind them then turned and helped Raff up inside. The hatch above opened and Haskins scrambled down into the hold. Wind, dust, hail, and rain fell from above and Cash pushed Haskins out of the way to get the hatch closed and secured.

  The roller shook and shuddered while everyone took seats.

  “We should strap in,” Pytor suggested.

  No one argued. They strapped themselves into the harnesses secured to the walls as the storm raged around them.

  “The storm transported,” Cash said. “How in the hell did it do that?”

  ***

  The inside of the roller was stifling. It was like a sauna that smelled of sweat, sickness, death, and burned flesh.

  Nochez’s eyes fluttered open and she tried to take a deep breath, but the air tasted awful and she ended up turning her head and retching instead. A string of saliva mixed with bile clung to her lip. Nochez wiped it away and sat up.

  Her shoulder screamed at her and her vision swam. It took Nochez several breaths, all shallow breaths since breathing deeply pulled at the cauterized wounds in the front and back of her shoulder, before her head was right and she felt she could stand.

  But, feeling like she could stand and actually standing were two different things. Nochez struggled to stay on her feet, her head back to swirling as she stood hunched in the heat of the hold.

  “Fuck it,” she croaked and stumbled to the rear hatch.

  It hurt like hell, but Nochez managed to grab a rifle and steady the butt against her hip as she shoved the hatch open. Bright sunlight pierced her eyes and she squinted in pain. Once her vision adjusted, Nochez carefully climbed out of the speed roller and took a look around.

  Dead wingers and a grave. That was what she saw. And far off, the ever-present lava flow that luckily was not headed for her and the roller.

  Certain she was not in any immediate danger, Nochez set the rifle against the roller then undid her belt and dropped her pants so she could squat and relieve herself. It was the greatest pee she’d ever taken.

  Feeling a lot better with an empty bladder, Nochez went back to the hold and rummaged for food. She found a pack of something that claimed to be chicken, but knew “chicken-like” was more accurate. With a hard smack and a roll of the packet, the food heated itself up and was steaming hot when Nochez tore the top off. She let it cool for a minute then upended the packet and poured the chunks of chicken-like substance directly into her mouth, barely pausing to chew before swallowing.

  Belly filled, but not full, Nochez disposed of the packet and picked her rifle back up. She moved out away from the roller and scoped the area. The winger corpses were already starting to stink, so Nochez’s visual search was specifically for the threat of incoming scavengers. There was a chance the smell from the lava would mask the smell of rotting flesh, but Nochez wasn’t going to bet her life on that.

  Nothing to the west or to the east. She moved farther away from the roller and scoped north then pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees and scoped south. She froze in place then shook off the shock and moved her head away from the scope.

  Nochez squinted into the shimmering heat of the southern horizon then put her eye back to the scope and confirmed what she’d originally seen.

  People.

  Several thoughts ran through her mind simultaneously, nearly making her dizzy. She took more shallow breaths to center herself then studied the people through her scope once more. They were too far away for identification, so she had no idea if she was
looking at friend or foe. Her heart wanted it to be Flipside personnel, but her head cautioned her against that type of optimism.

  The Russians were out there somewhere and wouldn’t it be her luck if they found her in the state she was? Nochez doubted that she could keep her rifle steady enough to hit the broadside of a crawler, let alone hit a target as small as a far-off human being.

  Still, she made the effort to climb up onto the top of the roller. After a few minutes’ rest from the climb, Nochez put eye to scope once more and stayed that way for close to an hour before a grin spread across her face.

  Flipside. The people walking toward her were Flipside!

  “Hey!” Nochez shouted as she waved her good arm over her head. “Hey! Over here!”

  She scoped again and the people, three of them, had paused and were busy scoping her. Then one of them lowered their rifle and waved back.

  “Thank God,” Nochez said with a long sigh. “Oh, thank God.”

  It was forty minutes before the three operators arrived.

  Nochez had climbed down and rushed straight at them. Ivy was in the lead and Nochez basically fell against her, wrapping her good arm around Ivy’s back and hugging fiercely.

  “I thought I was gonna die out here,” Nochez said.

  Ivy gently pushed Nochez back and looked her up and down.

  “Morgan. Blumhouse. Set a perimeter while I talk with Nochez,” Ivy ordered.

  “Copy that, boss,” Blumhouse said.

  “You look like you need to have a seat,” Ivy said to Nochez.

  Nochez nodded and sat down right there on the ground. Ivy squatted in front of her.

  “Talk,” Ivy said.

  Nochez talked. She explained everything, from the speed roller and all tech breaking down to the rest of the team becoming sick and dying one by one. She explained how she cauterized her shoulder wound then passed out.

  “Sick?” Ivy said, fear in her eyes. “But you’re fine?”

  “Yes,” Nochez said and nodded. “Maybe I am immune? I must be immune. I was with them in the hold. All of them before they passed. I should have gotten sick too.”

  Ivy nodded then stood and studied the area. Nochez stayed seated and watched her.