"Alright, so, a currency. Thoughts?" Brenda Wells asked. She had served on Jacksonville's city council for eight years and always tried to keep the meetings on point.
"Well, let's rule out the obvious. We can't do U.S. currency. The distribution and availability would be far too unpredictable," Kelsey said.
"Has to be something we can make a lot of and, preferably, something no one else can," Wells said.
"This already sounds like more than we can handle right now," Wesley said.
"Does it have to be something only we can produce?" Adam wondered.
"Of course. Otherwise, we can't control costs and the currency becomes worthless," Wells explained.
"Right. But what if it's something we can control and don't have to produce?" Adam said, pondering.
"I assume you have an idea," Black said.
"Yeah, maybe. If we could get something simple, where there's a lot of it, like rocks or something, and mark it somehow. Make it clear what is our currency."
"What's to stop others from making the same marks?" Valdez asked.
"That's the hard part. We'd need something that can make marks that no one else can get," Adam said.
"Even a simple engraving machine would be hard to mimic these days," Kelsey said.
"As long as we can find something like that, we could make a currency with relatively little effort," Adam said.
"Little effort?" Wesley questioned. "Even if we found something to engrave with, engraving enough rocks for a viable currency would take... well, a very long time."
"It wouldn't have to be that many to start," Black argued. "Just something that we could pay wages with and let the local shops use. Even if it took starting with one piece per person every day."
"You realize there are tens of thousands of people living here, right?" Wesley countered.
"Fair enough. But I think it's worth pursuing," Black said.
"Either way, we still would need to find a machine or something else to mark the currency," Kelsey said. "For now, let's just stay on the lookout."
"Alright, what's next?" Wells asked.
"Length of terms for council members," the record keeper replied.
"Well, Jacksonville's city council had the standard four year terms," Wells said.
"Does that seem long to anyone else?" Black asked. "Especially when we're the only ones with any kind of say."
"The people need stability right now," Wells countered.
"And the voting process won't go as easily next time, you can be sure of that," Wesley said. "Hardly anyone voted the first time, but once things settle down, everyone's going to want a say in what happens around here. And who knows how many people will be living here then! We need all the time we can get to plan for it."
"If you're going to have long terms, there should be more positions available for everyone else," a man sitting in the bleachers called out. "Checks and balances."
"He's right," Black said. "At the very least, we should decide on that before we make a call about term lengths. Let's put it in the agenda." The record keeper wrote it down on the ever expanding list in front of her.
Again, Wells continued the discussion. "Okay, what's next?"
As she spoke, one of the doors from the outside burst open and a marine ran up to Valdez. He saluted quickly and said, "General, I have word from one of the scouts to the north." He was breathing heavily and had apparently ran a long distance in the rain.
Valdez looked around at the others in the room, then turned back to the marine. "What's the report?"
"Exterminators," he replied, still panting.
Those in the room now gave their undivided attention to the marine.
"What?" Valdez asked, leaping up from his swivel chair. The action sent it rolling across the gym floor.
"Five or six of them, sir. Only a few miles north. They're moving slowly, not burning everything. As far as the guys who saw 'em could tell, they were just looking around. But they're heading our way."
Valdez turned to the rest of the council. "We need to get to the north border."
"We?" Wells asked. "Why on Earth do you need us to come with you?"
"For when we order an evacuation," Valdez replied.
Chapter 46
New Jacksonville - December 18, 2072
"Gresson! Gresson!" Adam yelled, running into the house.
Jake and Sean were sitting in the living room.
"What's going on?" Jake asked.
"Exterminators. They're coming," Adam answered. The two of them shot up from their seats.
"What?" Sean exclaimed.
Gresson came out of the kitchen. "Where are they?"
"North. A few miles away, moving slow."
"How many?"
"About five."
"What is Valdez doing now?"
"He's taking the council to the north shore and rounding up the marines. Their preparing for an evacuation."
"Let's go," Gresson said, grabbing his coat off a hanger by the door. Jake and Sean joined them as they walked out into the rain.
"Where is everyone else?" Sean asked Adam as they started to jog.
"I saw Lash on my way here. She took off north to meet up with the marines. I don't know about anyone else."
"Lucas said he was going downtown today," Jake said. "He's probably still there."
"Hopefully everyone hears about this and gets the hell out of the way," Sean said. "What were the Exterminators doing? And how'd you hear about it?"
"A marine came in during our meeting," Adam replied. "Apparently one of them saw the Exterminators just walking, not setting anything on fire."
"You sure they are heading for us?" Jake asked.
"No," Adam said. "But I'm not taking chances."
"They must be scouting," Gresson said. "That is the only reason they would not be burning, at least that I can think of."
"Scouting? For what?" Adam asked.
"Anything. They could just be the first ones this far south and they are looking at what all is here. I certainly don't want them leaving with news of an organized community."
"Why?" Sean asked.
"Any threat they perceive, no matter how small, is going to become their first priority."
"So if these scouts find New Jacksonville..." Jake said.
"More will come... and they will burn it to the ground," Gresson said.
The four of them arrived at the north shore within ten minutes. They were allowed through a barricade and crossed the bridge. At the other side they met a battalion of marines, all armed and ready for battle.
"Mr. President!" Valdez called out. He jogged over to them and gave a quick salute.
"Where are they now?" Gresson asked.
"Still a few miles north. They aren't moving fast, but they are coming this way. By now they've probably reached the 95 and 295 junction and that's not very far."
"They're on the interstate?"
"Yeah. They've been on I-95 since we first saw them."
A crack of lightning illuminated the clouds. The sky was growing darker and the rain was getting heavier.
"Come on. We can talk inside." Valdez led them into a nearby warehouse. It was mostly empty, except for a few marines and the rest of the council members.
"Gresson! Thank god you're here," Kelsey said.
They all crowded around into a circle.
"Ok, Gresson. You're the expert. How do we kill these things?" Valdez asked.
"Well, guns are not going to do you any good. Those suits make them impervious to bullets, shrapnel, heat, nearly everything conventional you can think of."
"Damn. What about weaknesses?"
"The suits are not perfect, but their only negatives are impaired vision and mobility. And they are rather uncomfortable. But none of that makes a difference as far as we should be concerned."
"Okay. So how do we kill them?"
"Are you assuming I have some kind of answer to that question?"
"You have to," Valdez said
with a hint of desperation in his voice. "You know them better than any of us."
"I know them enough to know that no technology you have can kill them."
"That's why they have that damn signal," Valdez though aloud. Adam, Jake, and Sean exchanged glances.
"The interference signal makes no difference. Even without it, none of your weapons could kill them," Gresson said.
"So, what? We just have to stay out of their way?" Valdez asked.
"We can't do that," Adam said. "If they follow 95 all the way down to New Jacksonville, they'll be back with more soon enough. Then we won't be able to stay out of their way."
"Then, what do we do?" Valdez asked.
They all stood silent, staring at the cement floor and steel walls, hoping for some kind of inspiration. The rain continued to pound outside, making thousands of tiny taps on the warehouse's roof. The nearby marines looked worriedly at their leaders, many of whom were giving up hope.
"I have an idea," Sean said.
"What?" Valdez asked.
"It might be dumb..."
"Nothing's dumb at this point. Spit it out," Valdez said.
"Well, their suits stop bullets, heat and all that. But do they stop gravity?"
"Huh?"
"I mean, if they were to fall from some height, would it kill them?"
The group turned to Gresson. He thought for a moment.
"If there was enough force, it could. The suits won't stop blunt force," he said.
Everyone's eyes brightened. There was hope.
"Okay, so how could we do that?" Valdez asked. "Where is there a big drop and how could we knock them off? Or even get them there?"
"What about the bridge?" Wesley offered.
"Falling into the water will not kill them," Gresson said.
"Wait. Do you have explosives?" Sean asked Valdez.
"Yes, a few," he answered.
"Explosives will not kill them," Gresson said.
"No, we don't use them to kill," Sean explained. "There on I-95, right? I know from the days we spent walking on it that those overpasses always seemed pretty high to me. What if we rig one to blow once they walk over? The explosion might not kill them, but the fall might."
"Will it be a high enough drop?" Taylor Black asked.
"Doesn't matter," Adam said, now understanding Sean's idea. "Even if the fall doesn't kill them, they'll drop their weapons."
"What's your point?" Valdez asked.
"Blunt force. Once they've fallen, and once they've dropped their flame throwers, we can move in... and beat the bastards to death."
Valdez took a deep breath. "It's risky. But as far as I can tell..." He looked over at Gresson.
"It is... possible," Gresson said.
"That's all we need," Valdez said, heading for the door.
As everyone moved to follow, Jake turned to Sean. "How'd you come up with that? The gravity thing?"
"It's gonna sound silly."
"Oh come on. What made you think of that?"
"A video game."
"Video game?" Jake asked, surprised.
"Yeah, in one of my favorites the last boss seems impossible to kill. I spent hours trying to figure out how to beat him. Then I found out there's only one thing that works. You have to push him off a cliff."
"Well, thinking of that might have just made you a goddamn hero," Jake said.
"We'll see," Sean replied, though he couldn't help but show a small grin.
Chapter 47
New Jacksonville - December 18, 2072
The storm was now directly overhead, but Valdez didn't mind. The darkness now gave his marines more cover for hiding near their trap. They had set up the explosives under one of I-95's overpasses. As soon as the Exterminators crossed over, nearby marines would set them off.
"I have an update, sir," a marine running up to Valdez said.
"Go ahead."
"They are still walking along the highway. Maybe five or six minutes away."
"Alright. Keep watching them. We'll be ready when they get here."
They had determined that there were six Exterminators total, all humanoid, tall, and wearing black and red suits, as expected. According to the marine scouts, the Exterminators walked as if they were simply out for a stroll. They were relaxed with their weapons held at what the marine's assumed were their hips. All Valdez could think of was that they had become arrogant. To them, it's like taking out the trash, he thought. We're just rodents. Rodents to exterminate. He couldn't help but take pleasure from the thought of killing one of them, even if it was just to show them that he wouldn't die without a fight. The angry anticipation he felt for springing the trap only increased when he thought about the millions of people these things had killed and the global devastation they had caused. He wasn't among those who would be moving in for the beating, but he jealously imagined crushing one of their heads.
He was startled when Jake put a hand on his shoulder. "You ready to kill these assholes?" Jake asked.
Forgoing his usual austere tone, Valdez replied, "Hell yes."
"Part of me wishes I was one of those guys," Jake said, nodding toward the distant group of marines wielding metal pipes and other miscellaneous blunt objects, waiting by the overpass in silence.
"I was thinking the same thing."
The two watched for the approaching Exterminators for another minute. They were crouched behind a car in a parking lot, just south of the overpass.
"If things go bad, remember, you need to go back and help with the evacuation," Valdez said. "Don't do something stupid."
"Yeah, I know. For now though, I'd like to believe this'll work," Jake replied.
The marine scout returned and crouched next to Valdez. "General, they're almost here."
"Which lane?" Valdez asked.
"The one closest to us. Northbound, sir. Apparently they don't care for the rules of the road."
"Okay. Stay out of sight."
The marine quickly left in the direction he had come.
"You should get back," Valdez told Jake.
Jake nodded and crept back to a safer location.
Valdez peered north along the highway for a glimpse of the Exterminators. The rain and darkness made it difficult to see. Another two minutes passed.
One of the marines farther north gave a hand signal. The Exterminators were here. Valdez could now see them himself. The six figures seemed completely oblivious to what awaited them. They casually neared the underpass.
Valdez signaled the marine at the detonator to get ready. According to Gresson and Valdez's engineers, the primitive explosives they had found would be unaffected by the interference signal, but Valdez couldn't help but feel anxious. Far too many things could still go wrong.
The Exterminators were now only a few yards from the overpass. Valdez was now counting their footsteps, trying to anticipate how soon they would arrive at the point directly above the explosives.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
Valdez looked over at the marine with the detonator and threw up the signal to detonate. He looked back at the highway, ready for the fireworks.
Nothing happened.
Valdez spun back, staring at the marine with a mix of fury and terror. He could see the marine pressing the detonator repeatedly. Valdez eyed the overpass. The Exterminators were entirely unaware, now halfway across.
Valdez looked at the marine. He was prone, doing something Valdez couldn't determine. After a deep breath, Valdez stood up and started to run over.
The explosion surprised Valdez. It was much larger than expected. Chunks of the overpass flew into the air, as did the derelict cars that were resting on it. The fire was blinding and Valdez, now standing in the middle of the parking lot, had to turn away. Coming to his senses, he turned to the melee armed marines and yelled, "Go!"
The marines had already moved in. Shouts and screams filled the air. Valdez couldn't tell if the fire in the area was from the explosion or the Exterminators weapons. Not willin
g to leave anything else to chance, he abandoned the observation role his seniority usually demanded and charged toward the now nonexistent overpass.
By the time he arrived, the fight was over. Several marines still swung their weapons, but none of the black and red suited bodies were moving. A few of the marines began to cheer and raise their pipes, rocks, and bricks over their heads in sheer joy. Valdez walked up to one of the bodies. While he wasn't certain about their anatomy, if it was as similar to humans as it appeared, the Exterminator's arms were dislocated, one of its legs was bent backwards at an awkward angle, and its head was crushed under a chunk of I-95. The suit was unbroken, but Gresson had been right. The suits offered no protection against blunt force trauma. The suits had a curious texture that Valdez did not recognize, nor had he expected to.
"Lights out," he muttered under his breath.
Valdez walked about the rubble and checked the other Exterminators. After a few seconds, he frantically scanned back and forth. "Where's the sixth one?" he asked.
He received his answer as a marine who had been positioned on the other side of the highway ran up to him. "Sir! One of the targets escaped."
"What?" he asked angrily.
"As soon as the explosion happened, it was running back up north. It moved so fast. We would've opened fire, but..."
"Damn it," Valdez groaned.
"Sir! This one's moving!" one of the marines said.
Valdez ran over. Indeed, the Exterminator's chest was slowly moving up and down.
"It's still alive," a marine said. Another raised a chunk of rubble over his head.
"No, wait," Valdez ordered, putting a hand on the marine's raised arm. "We'll take it alive."
Chapter 48
New Jacksonville - December 18, 2072
It was late in the evening when the captured Exterminator was violently thrown down onto a table in one of the warehouses. Valdez, several marines, Lash, and Jake stood around the table, unsure of what to do next.
"Where is Gre..." Valdez began to yell, but Gresson appeared in the doorway.
"Looks like we got a live one Mr. President," Valdez said proudly.
Gresson silently stepped closer and solemnly looked over the black and red suited figure. "General, we should bury the bodies quickly and..."
Darkness on a Pale Blue Stone Page 24
