Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series Book 1)

by Quil Carter

  “You did the right thing,” he said quietly, quiet enough that Greyson hadn’t heard him. The corners of my lips rose in a small smile. I mouthed thanks and stood back as he disappeared into the tunnel after Greyson. I heard the hatch clang shut, and another shink as one of them locked the hatch behind them.

  I let out a deep breath and forced myself not to think as I made my way to my bedroom. If I started thinking now, I knew I would never be able to turn off my brain, and what I didn’t need was another reason not to sleep.

  I closed my bedroom door and locked it, and without another thought, flopped onto my bed.

  Chapter 6

  Reaver

  Present Day

  “What’s up Reaver?” one of the other sentries asked as I approached the north gate leading out of Aras. It had been a couple of weeks since Killian had followed me to the Slaught House. The merchant had come and gone, and my following of Killian was pretty much constant now. I always knew where that kid was. I felt more comfortable that way.

  “Nothing,” I called up to Sadii. I always worked alone, but at all times there were at least four of us walking the concrete barriers, each of us taking a wing. The size of the block was too big for one person to watch properly, or, at least that’s what Greyson told me whenever I voiced my displeasure about having to deal with other people.

  It wasn’t that bad though; the nature of our job made us solitary anyway, talking to each other was out of the question unless there was something out there to talk about.

  We all stuck to our own stretch of concrete in our designated cardinal direction and that was that. It was quiet, lonely, and, most of the time, tranquil. Tranquil isn’t a word that most often comes to mind when talking about the greywastes, but when you’re sitting on a cold slab of rock, hearing nothing but the breath of the deacon and the chirping of hoppers and other bugs, it is tranquil. Though as much as I love sitting and contemplating shit in the night, I must add that it’s just as fun shooting the head off a wild dog from fifty feet away.

  “Are you on now? I thought it was Matt and Owen tonight,” Sadii said as I climbed up the pull ramp. I could hear the electrical whine of her night vision goggles.

  “No, but I’m taking the west anyway,” I said in a tone that left little room for discussion. I stepped onto the broken cobblestone road. I didn’t have anything better to do tonight. Killian was in his house for the evening and I didn’t want to go home yet. Anyway, Reno had tipped me off on potentially another merchant caravan coming. I wanted to see if I could spot any sign of it.

  “Matt’s not going to be happy about that,” she called back to me.

  “Matt can go fuck a dog,” I called back and heard her burst into laughter. I rolled my eyes. We had grown up in the same block, so she knew that I wasn’t being funny, but she seemed to prefer to laugh off socially awkward responses rather than accept I was an asshole.

  In all respects I was being honest; Matt really could go fuck a dog. Matt was another sentry, and an idiot at that. The merchants could be robbing us blind and disembowelling the kids and he would still be trying to bang any unfortunate woman that was traveling with the caravan, even though he was married.

  I reached into my cargo pants pocket and dug out a few rolled up quils and popped one into my mouth.

  I took the long walk to the west side of the wall, taking a moment to spit on a few deacon heads while I was at it. I don’t know when I started doing that, but it eventually became a game. It was a good day when I successfully spat on every one I walked past. I had gotten better over the years.

  “They’ll rip your throat out one day,” a voice laughed from below me. I looked down to see the block’s doctor, chuckling away. He was a dark-haired man with glasses and a kind face. I didn’t mind him; he seemed to know his shit. The good ol’ Doc had been sewing my ass up since I was a tot. He had a sick sense of humour and was comfortable enough around me to freely jab. He was like the uncle I never wanted.

  “They’re too stupid,” I remarked, before hocking some spit on a big black one. It didn’t even flinch.

  I heard him chuckle again. “Aye, probably, but it won’t make my dreams of it happening any less sweeter.”

  I started laughing before I could stop myself. Had to give the fucker credit for that one.

  “I got a visit from Jeff Massey’s boy Killian. He wants to apprentice for me,” Doc said very nonchalantly.

  “Really?” I said. This had my interest. Killian had never sought out being trained for a job. He just paid his taxes from money his dad left behind and that was that. I guess he was getting bored of reading all day, or maybe he wanted to put that book knowledge to use.

  “Yep, smart kid too. He’s read more medical books than I have. I think I’ll start him dissecting some carcasses, see if he has the stomach for medicine.”

  I snorted. I couldn’t see Killian being able to handle gore like that but who knows, he had been surprising me. He hadn’t puked once when he had seen the pit in all its glory.

  “I thought I would save you the hassle and just tell you. I have him coming over Monday to Friday, noon until three and emergencies.”

  I stared at him. It seemed like everyone knew about me following Killian. I guess it was obvious when we both kept leaving Aras together. Still, I wish they wouldn’t bring attention to it.

  Doc was apparently having the time of his life. “He mentioned you, you know,” he said with a sardonic smirk.

  I kept staring. Every bit of me wanted to start walking back towards the west wall, but my curiosity had snared me in its clutches. I had to press on.

  “Oh?” I said, dropping my voice, hoping the doctor would get the hint too and drop his. No such luck; he was relishing this too much.

  “He asked me where you lived, told him I didn’t know. No one fucking knows except Reno, Greyson, and Leo.”

  “I sleep better that way,” I mumbled, trying to sound uninterested, but my mind had exploded with questions. Why did he want to know where I lived?

  Doc’s eyes were watching my face. I wiped it of emotion and became a statue.

  The doctor continued, “Well, he seemed disappointed, sensitive little creature. I don’t know how he survived the trip from Tamerlan to Aras. Anyway have a good night, Reaver.”

  I narrowed my eyes at his smile. He had obviously accomplishing what he wanted; which was probably to poke passive-aggressive fun at my following Killian. I grunted and waved him off before I picked up my pace and kept walking towards the west wall.

  I pushed my thoughts out of my head and focused on the world around me. The sky was beautiful tonight. It was one of the rare evenings where the overcast grey had burnt into the night and you could see the stars. Every one of those little fucking things was shining tonight. It weirded me out just thinking that all the other people in the history of the world had looked up at those same stars. They even had names for them at one point but I never found a book of any of them. I think Greyson said one was called saturdarius but I wasn’t sure.

  I blew the smoke out of the quil I had between my lips and reached behind me, clicking my M16 off its holder. I might as well clean it tonight; it was starting to get dusty from all those canyon visits while I watched over the boy.

  I hoped one of the merchants had some arms for me to buy. I had been hoping to find a new scope, or maybe some schematics. I had also been thinking of buying Killian a gun; I mean, it was about time he learned to use one. And it would be some extra protection for when he was in that big house of his. I had enough trade to afford a nice one, and I had just found a small stash of penicillin a month back. I had given most of it to Greyson for the block, but I had kept a few bottles myself. That shit was even rarer in the greywastes. We were lucky here, because of me. Most wasters wanted food, I wanted drugs. So I turned it into a benefit for the whole community and also brought back medicine. This whole town would have been wiped out by disease long ago if it wasn’t for me.

  I sat down on my pe
rch in front of the concrete wall and stared out into the greywastes. Unlike Sadii, I didn’t need night vision goggles. My vision had always been unnaturally sharp; the goggles always made it worse and the green annoyed me. My vision wasn’t perfect in the night, but at least everything was shades of grey and blue, not bright and distorted.

  The greywastes were quiet too; if there were any deacons nearby they weren’t in ear shot. My hearing had always been sharp as well. I could hear the deacons breathing from half a block away. Heck, I could hear people’s heartbeats when they’re beside me talking. Though only if I paid attention – most of the time I was trying to tune people out, not the opposite.

  It was annoying that none of the dogs were nearby. It was their job to guard the wall after all. But I knew even the slightest odd noise or smell would alert them. They were always good at picking up strange noises. They also just seemed to know when something was out of place, like the air to them was different or something. I knew I had to trust the stupid things, even if they weren’t around at the moment. I didn’t trust many people but the deacons were different. Unlike people, dogs don’t purposely screw you over.

  I let out a sigh as I felt the quil start to hit me; that warm, glowing feeling that good opiates gave. I never got tired of it. It was worth repeatedly getting chased by radanimals and legionary to obtain them. I had Reno just as hooked on them, though I think we got each other hooked. He and I made it our thing to scavenge the abandoned greywaste towns.

  I wonder if Killian would ever do drugs? I know he didn’t now, and if he did he was damn good at hiding it. Nah, he was too innocent, he probably didn’t even drink. Though Tulley’s greywine was so disgusting everyone wished they didn’t drink. At least Greyson and Leo had their whiskey cache that they let me snipe sometimes. I knew of a few places I could find liquor in the Gosselin ruins, but I never bothered. Drugs made me faster, liquor made me slow and stupid. If I ever did drink, I only did it around people I knew, like Greyson, Leo, or Reno.

  I continued to watch the greywastes in front of me. I started thinking about what kind of gun I would buy for Killian. Definitely not an automatic like my M16; he would have to work up to that. Anyway, that kid seemed a tad weird; he might shoot up the block one day. If he did that with a handgun I, at least, would have time to get the fuck out of there before he got too many rounds off.

  Maybe that’s why he wanted to know where I lived.

  It was half an hour later that I heard soft footsteps start to sound down the wall. I knew from the silent steps that it was another sentry, and there was only one sentry it could be.

  “Hey, Reaver, did Greyson change the schedule?” Matt’s voice called. I couldn’t help but cringe, it had been so quiet and peaceful, I could even hear a few hoppers out. Now that bug-eyed idiot was ruining my perfect mood.

  “Nope,” I said quietly. I lit my quil and inhaled again. I had some pills in my pocket but I didn’t want to take them until later. “You can go home.”

  Matt made a disgusted noise. “Nah, the kids are sick, the whole place smells like shit and vomit. Shelly is pissy about it. This is my only quiet time. Sorry, bugger, I’m staying.”

  I grunted in annoyance. This was a sure-fire way to ruin my evening.

  I got up and grabbed my gun and clicked it back into its holder.

  “I’ll do some patrols then,” I said.

  I turned around and started walking west, the same area where my house was, though this area was abandoned and mostly covered in debris and collapsed houses. My house was several blocks in, far from the wall.

  I climbed down the first ladder I could find and started walking through an alleyway. On either side of me were tall two-storey houses, most with the roofs collapsed and broken, but some still stood. Their paint was almost all peeled away and what remained was stained with green slime. The wood behind the paint was grey and dry as bone, still holding strong after over two hundred years of neglect. Greyson said it was the lack of rain that stopped these houses from falling to ruin like some of the others. Though I always thought King Silas’s sestic radiation helped preserve the wood too, like it did the canned food, but I didn’t know science crap. That was more Leo’s thing.

  It took the better part of an hour to weave my way through the crap piled in West Aras. Finally I spotted the small path I had made for my own personal patrols. It led me to a semi-cleared off road, one of the main ones in my area.

  This was Stone Road. It was a few blocks from the road where I lived. I had always liked this road; it was more uniform than the others. The houses were almost all the same. They all had an extra storey to them so they were good for lookouts. I had boarded up all the windows years ago to keep them from being ambush spots for predators.

  The trees were also the same type. Whoever designed this place had wanted everything to be uniform and perfect, almost like a painting or something. Each house was the same, the yard was the same, and the trees, black and leafless now, were planted exactly twelve feet from one another. Those assholes before the Fallocaust must have had it easy, being able to worry about shit like this. What a life.

  I cut across bare rocky yard, and started weaving my way between bits of twisted metal and broken pieces of concrete. I jumped onto a porch and cut my way across the backyard to the next street. Everything had fallen back to tranquility around me, save the few bugs I could hear. It was a comfortable quiet; everything seemed peaceful tonight. Perhaps I might be able to sleep, though that was always easier said than done.

  It wasn’t until I was in the cul-de-sac that I realized exactly where I had been leading myself. I had been walking this entire time mindlessly, not even paying attention to where I was going.

  I sighed, feeling disappointed in my brain.

  Killian’s house was right in front of me.

  I looked up at his two-storey house. I could see that the second floor light was on. He had finally bought one of the bluelamps Dek’ko sold then. I remembered him saying to Greyson that he wanted one.

  I took another drag from my quil and started to walk around the property, though I stuck close to the exterior wall. It was dark enough that I didn’t think he would be able to see me, but as Greyson always said: I was so pale I seemed to glow in the LED light.

  I couldn’t help but pause at one of his windows; before I could stop myself I had glanced inside. It looked like his kitchen.

  There were lots of bottles filled with various things, spices mostly I think, and lots of old cabinets, and metal shelves filled with food and junk. I could also make out dishes and pots hanging neatly on top of a large grate that hung over the stove. Everything was put away nicely. I could even see fucking dish towels hanging off of the stove. Dish towels? That kid was crazy.

  I craned my neck and tried to glance into the room next to it; everything was freakishly clean. No wonder the kid smelled like soap, he was probably cleaning all of the time.

  I tried the window. It opened with a small creak. How stupid was this kid? Anyone could sneak in here and slash his throat; he must have a death wish.

  With gentle noiseless fingers I closed the window and kept walking. I didn’t like how my feet sounded against the rocky soil but I knew his ears wouldn’t be able to pick it up.

  As I turned a corner, I realized I was back underneath the lit window. I walked around the square of light and looked up, half-expecting to see his dark silhouette watching me, but it was empty.

  I started back towards the road, hoping my lurking would appease my curiosity. Though, as I walked in between several old gnarled trees, I found myself stopping once again. I glanced up at the twisted leafless masses and in spite of myself – I started to climb.

  I silently scaled the tree until I was eye-level with the second-storey window. I sat down and leaned against the trunk and looked inside.

  With the light on in the room I knew he wouldn’t be able to see me even if he was looking – the light would blind him to everything outside that wasn’t half a foot f
rom the window.

  My eyes scanned the room with a morbid curiosity I needed to satiate. I felt my face flush a bit, realizing this was his bedroom, and that I was being a complete fucking weirdo right now, but I still couldn’t bring myself to leave.

  I just wanted to make sure he was safe. He was stupid enough to leave the windows unlocked after all. So I should stay and just make sure he got to sleep okay.

  Or that’s what I told myself.

  I looked around his room. It was clean and tidy of course. I could see dirty pre-Fallocaust pictures hung up on the cracked and warped paneling. I couldn’t recognize most of them but I think a few of them were tropical pictures; the blue of the ocean reminded me of his eyes.

  Tucked in on the far left-hand side was a mattress on a metal frame, covered with a thick wool blanket that I could see had mould spots on it. Beside the bed was a metal table stacked with books and from what I could see, drinking glasses. In the far right, before the window cut my vision off, I spotted clothing hung up by coat hangers and below them a rusty metal bucket. Probably more cleaning shit.

  I shifted my weight against the tree trunk so my gun sat a bit more comfortably and crossed my arms over my chest. My mind threatened me with images of one day being inside that bedroom, but I pushed them away. I was getting tired of my brain tormenting me. It would never happen.

  About half an hour later, my heart gave a nervous jolt as I saw him enter the room. His nose was still in a book. I chastised my body and forced my heartbeat to calm down, feeling embarrassed at my own reaction even though no one would ever see.

  Nose in a book, how typical, I said to myself with a smirk.

  Killian grabbed the bluelamp and sat it down on the metal side table. He got under the wool blanket on his bed and continued to read. With one hand holding the book, he bent the other behind his head.

  I could see his brow furrow as he concentrated on the book; sure enough, it had Psychology written on the back of it. Must be an old textbook. I had seen a few of them at the old school here. No one was really interested in books but Leo and a few other sciencey-types. I actually wouldn’t have been surprised if Leo had lent him these texts.