Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series Book 1)

by Quil Carter

  I rubbed my head and moaned. “What the fuck did he have it for?”

  “His son had had it in his uniform; I guess we didn’t see it. They use them to scare off scavers.”

  Suddenly I shot up. “Killian? We have to get to the factory. Fuck it’s daylight, it’s been hours. What time is it?”

  Greyson got up and raised his hands. “Just stay still for a moment, I don’t want you fucking passing out again.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.” And I was, my head fucking pounded like hell, but I was feeling surprisingly good.

  But Greyson wasn’t having any of it. “We need to get a game plan together first.” He kicked the fire out and grabbed his bag.

  “All I need to know is where the factory is,” I said. I started walking down the raised highway towards the road.

  “The same direction the truck was going,” Greyson said from behind me. “The factory is right over the ridge.”

  I felt a pit in my stomach. That truck had been carrying Killian, an alive Killian. He must be so fucking scared… if he was still alive.

  I swore at myself. He had to fucking be alive, he had to be. I wished my mind could do a better job at convincing me. A part of me felt ill knowing that he had been alive all this time. He must have been terrified, wondering where the hell I was. What if all this news just meant his pain and fear had been prolonged? That I wouldn’t even have a body to touch, or to take revenge on.

  My heart started to ache.

  If he was dead inside that factory…

  I narrowed my eyes as I felt the rage start to bubble up inside me again. If he was dead, I would bomb the whole fucking factory and kill everyone inside.

  “Wait a second, Reaver. I want to get some weapons and ammo from the caravan.” Greyson jogged in front of me.

  I stared at him, the mechanics in my mind starting to turn again. I watched as Greyson jogged down to the stolen caravans and bosen. I had passed them, hidden under the exit ramp the previous night.

  I walked up behind Greyson.

  “The Dek’ko caravan isn’t here, I bet you anything the rep sold the merchants out to the legionaries,” Greyson said bitterly. The metal cover over the caravan grinded and groaned as Greyson pushed it back. He jumped onto the top of the caravan and picked up a trunk, then slammed it down onto the dusty pavement below. “Weapons trunk, guns, ammo, explosives. We’re going to make quite a mess together, son.”

  I smiled. My mind lit up as I spotted the burlap sack I knew was filled with explosives.

  Yes, I remembered. Menkin had been selling C4 packs. I could stick them throughout the factory, with the detonator in my grasp. The explosion would be beautiful… the death toll high. Body parts and twisted metal would fall from the sky like rain.

  What a way to go.

  I looked at Greyson, the man I had known my entire life. I felt grateful that he was willing to put his own life at risk to help me save someone important to me.

  I watched as he talked on, though I wasn’t paying attention. My eyes just kept tracking every movement he made.

  He was talking like we would be coming back, and I knew the possibility of me coming back was low. I wasn’t going to let Aras lose its leader or Leo his partner. I couldn’t put my pseudo dad through what I was going through and worse. They had been together almost twenty years.

  The blood bath would be mine, and mine alone.

  I knew what I had to do.

  I grabbed my combat knife, and struck him over the head with the end of the handle. He didn’t even see it coming.

  I caught him as he fell backwards unconscious, and shushed him like you would a child. I dragged him over to one of the many cars underneath the onramp and laid him down beside a station wagon. It was underneath the exit ramp and well hidden. It was also a little less rusted than the other ones since it was more sheltered. It was perfect.

  The trunk was already ajar. I lifted it up and checked to make sure it was empty. I then picked up Greyson and flopped his head and shoulders over the trunk.

  “Heavy bastard,” I grunted. I grabbed his leg and rolled the rest of him in, before grabbing his bag. His gun was strapped to his back still, but he always carried a pistol in the bag.

  Suddenly, to my confusion I heard a whine. I recognized that sound.

  I gave a low-pitched whistle and I heard the whine again. It was a fucking deacon dog, one of the half-breed chipped ones we sold to the merchants. I had heard that whine many times before.

  I walked over to the noise; it was coming from the second caravan, pushed into a pile of rubble a few meters away from me. The bosen was standing beside it, still strapped to the wagon.

  Sure enough, as I approached I saw a mound of grey fur moving around. I looked down to see one of the younger dogs, muzzled and hog tied to the back of the caravan.

  I got an idea.

  I cut the rope off of the deacon dog. It jumped to its feet and started licking my face. I pushed it away. “Stay down!” I ordered. Murry trained these dogs well before he sold them, I knew it could understand me. The deacon blood in them made them smarter than an average mutt.

  It sat on the caravan, wiggling its ass like an idiot. I recognized this one. Killian used to volunteer at the kennels and he had walked this one and his litter mates a few times. It was an idiot and way too friendly.

  I opened up a large steamer trunk beside the dog and grabbed the first scrap of paper I could find. I looked around a bit more but I couldn’t find a writing tool. I didn’t need one though.

  I pressed my finger against one of the wounds on my head. Sure enough, they were scabbed over with blood. I picked the scab off and started to write a quick note with my own blood.

  3rd exit ramp West off the ferst crossing. Underneiths GRY. – RVR

  I tried to make it as cryptic as I could. Unless the person who found the note knew what was going on, they wouldn’t know what exit ramp I meant. This was the best I could do. The worst scenario was that Greyson came to and walked home. By the time that happened I would be long gone.

  I tied the note around the deacdog’s neck. It looked at me with its tongue hanging out. Its yellow eyes gazed up at me like I was the god of the universe for untying him.

  “Go home.” I ordered it.

  The dog jumped off of the caravan and looked at me. It ran a few feet before circling back, then leaned down on its front paws and stuck his butt in the air like he wanted to play. I rolled my eyes. I had a low tolerance for dogs, especially young ones.

  “Go to Aras. Go home! Find Leo! Find Murry! GO!” I pointed towards Aras. The dog closed its mouth and sniffed the air, it seemed to understand. It started to run away, thankfully in the right direction.

  That took care of leaving Greyson behind. He could kick my ass when I came back. If he got the chance it would be because I had Killian with me and if that was my reality he could beat the living shit out of me all he wanted.

  I rummaged quickly through the armoury trunk and pocketed all of the C4. I stuffed the small five by five adhesive bricks into a burlap bag and loaded myself up with some excess ammo and guns. I knew I was about to embark on quite a shooting spree.

  After I had armed myself to the teeth, I looked ahead at the horizon. The hill where I had last seen the truck was only a few miles away. My mind was alight, from the possibility of Killian being alive and the thought of massacring hundreds of people.

  Today would be memorable. That was all I knew.

  “I’m coming for you,” I said out loud.

  Chapter 11

  Leo

  The greywastes were just a blur as Reno rode hard on the pavement. It was a bumpy ride, and Leo had had to cling onto Reno more than a few times, especially when the boy started weaving through cars.

  The wind beat his face with its cold chill. He was grateful for the goggles though he always thought they made him look foolish.

  “No way I’m bringing the quad over Highway 11, I want to cross at the bridge, it’s i
n the same direction as the note said anyway,” Reno shouted over the engine.

  They were heading towards the pass Reaver had directed them to in his makeshift note. Before the Fallocaust, this area had been covered in active highways, junctions, and interchanges. All were ruins now of course, streaked with a mouldy black slime that seemed to grow on everything made out of concrete.

  Most of the highway interchanges were useless. The exit ramps that made them accessible had collapsed long ago. So they just towered over everyone, like relics of times past, waiting for the elements to take them. In ancient times the world preserved the pyramids, the coliseums, the works of art. The only thing the pre-Fallocaust folks had in this part of the wastes were the broken pieces of highway. Not much of a work of art.

  Leo saw a flash of grey out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to see the deacdog running happily beside them. He had started following them as soon as they headed out into the greywastes. Leo had forgotten to give him back to Murry.

  Leo had been on the wall, facing the northwest of Aras all morning waiting for his husband to come home. Wishing and wishing that he would have Reaver with him, safe… probably crazy and injured, but safe.

  He just wanted his family back in Aras. He would deal with the aftermath of Killian’s death after they were home. It would be bad, the boy had been the first person to worm his way past Reaver’s barriers, and Reaver would be hurting on the inside for a long time, but he was still young. Though Leo had been near Killian’s age when he first met his future husband and the thought of losing him, even back then, was terrifying.

  Leo pursed his lips. He thought back to the feeling of dread he had when he read the note attached to the deacdog. Writing in goddamn blood? If it wasn’t signed with Reaver’s mark he would have thought that that was where he would find his husband’s body.

  Still… Greyson wouldn’t just be sitting there waiting for him.

  Leo swallowed hard.

  Unless he had been hurt…

  Leo loved Reaver like a son but he also knew him well. Reaver would be crazy for a very long time over losing Killian. He would probably be dangerous and unpredictable as well. The kid was a bit sociopathic as it was, experiencing actual grief over a loss would be catastrophic to his mental state. Reaver was strong though, stronger than any of them. He would survive, he wouldn’t have a choice. Loss was something everyone had to get used to.

  He hated admitting it to himself; Reaver meant a lot to him. But he feared for his partner’s life. Greyson didn’t sugarcoat things… he could say the wrong thing to Reaver very easily. Greyson had seen Reaver as a soldier to be trained and sometimes it was hard to see the boy as their kid. Not that it was Greyson’s fault, it was just his upbringing.

  Leo looked ahead, wishing the exit ramp bridge would come into view sooner.

  What if Greyson was mortally wounded… and Reaver didn’t want to leave his side?

  Leo swallowed the needles that stuck in his throat. What if that was it?

  Time passed slowly, but eventually Reno drove up the bridge that crossed the Typhus River. Leo glanced over at Reno’s gas gauge; thankfully he still had a little under half a tank. Unless the third exit ramp was an extremely long way away they should be able to get home safely. He was planning on giving Reno a raise after all of this. The kid was a happy-go-lucky, horny, drug addict but he was dependable and loyal and Reaver liked him, which always a bonus. The more people Reaver tolerated the better – god knows that kid needed to learn social skills.

  Leo leaned back as the road momentarily got smoother and kept his eyes peeled on his surroundings. Besides what he thought might be a cluster of croaches they hadn’t seen any radanimals or soldiers.

  He craned his neck to try and get a better view; they were near the middle of the bridge when he saw the third exit ramp off in the distance. Feeling his heart start to fill again he tried to swallow down the anxiety. Though willing himself to be strong was easier than actually doing it.

  “See it?” Reno called to him, his voice faint on the catching wind.

  “Yeah,” Leo called back. He leaned forward and put his feet up against the metal footrests and stood up. The third exit ramp wasn’t too far off. He could see it was covered in bumper to bumper vehicles, including a large bus lying diagonally across the road.

  The raised highway seemed to go on for a good mile south before crumbling into nothing. Leo could see where it began again, stretching off into the distance only to disappear into the grey.

  It looked abandoned. Leo wasn’t afraid of encountering more legionaries, he was more afraid of stumbling onto a raver colony. But ravers usually liked to announce their location to the other colonies with spray paint and mutilated bodies, so it looked like the area was safe.

  Leo’s eyes travelled to the sheltered area underneath the exit ramp. His heart leapt.

  “I see a bosen, yeah, that’s the merchants’ caravan.” His voice was tight, he felt his chest wring in a mixture of excitement and dread.

  Just let them be safe…

  Underneith’s GRY. With his heart threatening to bust his rib cage, Leo kept his eyes pinned on the caravan. Greyson had to be around here somewhere… maybe he hadn’t heard the quad or was making sure it was them.

  As soon as Reno slowed the quad down Leo jumped off.

  “Greyson? Reaver?” Leo called.

  There was no answer.

  He felt his heart plummet. Behind him, Reno cut the engine and started calling too.

  Leo started to walk around the cars and piles of crumbling concrete, stepping carefully over the snares of rebar that broke through like rusted fingers. Everything was silent, though the silence came with its own deafening noise.

  I won’t go there yet.

  “Hey, Leo, the night vision goggles I gave Greyson.” Reno jogged up to him, holding up the small pair of mechanical lenses. He kneeled down in front of the deacdog which had been sniffing the bosen and held it out to him.

  “Find Greyson,” Reno said.

  The grey deacon dog, with black paws and a stupid smile, sniffed the goggles and looked up at Reno. He wagged his tail. Leo watched as the dog ran beside the deteriorating off ramp. Its grey-black markings blending in almost perfectly with the black-stained, crumbling concrete blocks behind him. The dog, to his surprise, stopped beside an almost entirely hidden station wagon. It sat down and barked with its tongue lolling out happily.

  As Leo sped down the incline to where the dog was sitting, the animal got up and started pushing the trunk of the car with his nose. The silent air was broken only by the dog’s excited sniffing.

  Leo heard a groan.

  He let out a cry of relief. He opened the trunk up and put his hands on his husband’s sweaty face.

  “What happened?” Leo choked, unable to hold down his emotions any longer.

  His partner looked horrible. His rugged face was covered in sweat and dirt, and his eyes were barely open.

  “That little fucker,” Greyson moaned. He tried to sit up, but he fell back with a clenched groan. “He didn’t want me to come.”

  “Come? Where? Where is he?” Alarm bells rang in Leo’s head. He took his partner’s gloved hand and hoisted him up. Sweat was running down his greying temples. Leo could see drying blood on the back of his head. He looked down to see a dark stain on the trunk floor where Greyson’s head had lain.

  “Did he knock you out?”

  Greyson didn’t answer. As soon as his feet touched the ground he keeled over and threw up. He sat down on the rim of the trunk and spat onto the ground.

  Leo picked Greyson’s satchel up and took out his bottle of water, handing it to him gently. Greyson took a generous drink and poured some onto his head.

  “Little psychopath. Fucking hell, he snapped. Killian might be alive; they sold him alive to Typhus Canyon.” He scratched his prickly beard and wiped his wet face with his sleeve.

  “Holy shit!” Reno exclaimed behind them. The field sentry put his han
d on the back of his head and whooped. “Alive? Fuck, Reaver must have shit himself. When did he leave?”

  Greyson glanced up at the sun, then back at Leo. “Morning. Reaver got hit by rubber bullets; he was knocked out and left as soon as he woke up.”

  Leo stared at him for a second before he swore. “But he was okay?”

  Greyson nodded, taking another drink. “I think he’s going kamikaze on the factory. That’s why he knocked me out. He knew I wanted to go with him to find the kid.”

  “What do we do?” Reno asked, rummaging around the merchants’ caravan.

  Greyson looked at Leo. “I don’t know, Leo… what do we do?”

  Leo sighed and shook his head. “Nothing we can do. We need to trust Reaver will do the right thing. I think we should gather some of this shit and get home. I want Doc to check out your head too.”

  Reno stared at them like they had just suggested flying to the moon. “Go back to Aras? Are you shitting me? We need to fucking help Reaver.”

  Leo shook his head again. He grabbed the bosen’s nose ring and started encouraging the large creature to walk back up to the level ground. “Be realistic, Reno. There is nothing we can do but wait for Reaver to come home.”

  Reno gritted his teeth, his usually cheerful face sad. Leo felt for him, but the kid was young, impulsive, and emotional. Leo was old enough to know the reality of the situation. Even if they all headed towards the factory, it would cause more trouble for Reaver than help and it would put a red mark on Aras as well. All they could do was secure the free food and supplies and get home to the block.

  Greyson wiped his face and groaned. Leo pushed the water bottle into his hand. His partner looked exhausted and defeated.

  “Hey, Reno, hook the two caravans together and get everything secure. I need to talk to Leo in private,”

  Leo was afraid of this. Anything he couldn’t say in front of Reno was probably regarding Reaver and was probably bad.

  Reno let out an annoyed breath. The rugged-faced arian nodded and without another word, grabbed the rope attached to the bosen’s nose ring.