Hope Everlasting: A Dystopian Sci-fi Novel (The Variant Saga Book 3)

by JN Chaney

******

  The woman in armor unstrapped Terry’s arms and legs. As he got to his feet, he felt the heat on his chest from where the machine had pierced him. Between this and the wounds he received at the border, he wondered if the pain would ever stop.

  “Are you alright?” asked Jinel, staring at him.

  “I will be,” he said.

  “We have to get going. Here, take this.” She handed him a mask. “It will filter out the toxin.”

  “What toxin?”

  “The one the Leadership will release. It’s a paralytic, which means you won’t be able to move. We can’t have that, can we?”

  “Right,” said Terry, remembering the fight with the Guardian. The giant machine had released some kind of gas, paralyzing him. He could probably withstand another dose if he had to, but it was better not to take the chance.

  “Follow me,” she said, leading him through the nearest door. “Oops. I nearly forgot.” She reached behind, taking the pack off her back and opening it. “You’ll need something to hide those ugly ears of yours.”

  “You said these people want to use me to find a cure to Variant, but you live here, right? Why are you helping me?”

  Jinel covered her face with her own mask, sealing it with a soft click. “Whoever controls the cure controls this city,” she said in a synthetic voice. “If the Leadership gets their hands on you, they’ll use that cure as another form of subjugation.”

  “So, this is some kind of rebellion?” he asked, placing the shawl around his ears and neck.

  “Of a sort, yes. We’re giving Everlasting back to the people. If you understood what goes on here, you’d agree that something has to be done.”

  Terry glanced back in the direction of the lab they’d just left. “If it’s anything like what I saw in there, I’m sure it’s awful.”

  “Believe me when I tell you, it’s worse than you can imagine.”

  Worse than drilling a hole into his chest? Worse than taking little pieces of his body for their own experiments? “Who exactly do you work for?” asked Terry.

  “An organization called Garden. We’ve spent the last decade and a half fighting the Leadership’s grip on this city.” She looked at him, her whole face shielded by the mask. “You’re in a war now, Terry,” she said, simply. “And this is only the beginning.”

  ******

  Hall of the Leadership, Everlasting

  February 27, 2351

  “What do you mean, there’s been an attack?” asked John. He’d only just arrived, expecting to meet with the Leadership. As it turned out, though, hell was breaking loose all throughout the city.

  “It’s as I said,” resumed Master Trin. “Several assaults have been made on Everlasting over the last hour. One in the Medical Quarter. Another in Manufacturing. Another near this very facility.”

  “Is it still going on?”

  “The Master of Arms is the one in charge of Civil Protection.”

  “So, you don’t know?” asked John.

  Trin’s eyes dilated momentarily. “Forces have been distributed throughout the city,” he said, as though he was reading something. “There have been several casualties, but we are driving them back.”

  “That’s a relief, but who are they? Where are they coming from?”

  Master Trin hesitated. “I…don’t know.”

  “You don’t know who’s attacking you?”

  “They call themselves Garden,” said a voice from behind him. John turned to see Master Gel approaching. “Radical extremists. We believe they’ve been infected by the atmospheric gas, corrupting their minds in the process, though we can’t be certain.”

  Corrupting their minds? John had never heard of Variant doing that. Then again, these people weren’t exactly human, either. If what Mei had said was true, their DNA was slightly different. Who knew what kind of effect it could have on them? “How can you be sure they’re not just really pissed off?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand your meaning,” said Gel, who apparently had never heard the word “pissed” before.

  “Nevermind,” said John.

  “Hey, boss,” called Mickey. “Everything alright?”

  “Ain’t you been listening?” asked Short.

  John ignored them. “Look, if we’re talking insurgents or whatever, let me and my boys help. We’ve got the gear and the experience to deal with this sort of thing.”

  Gel and Trin looked at each other. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Trin. “We can’t have you murdering people in the streets. You’re outsiders.”

  Gel nodded. “Agreed. The Master of Arms is handling the situation. His response must be made with great precision. He wouldn’t appreciate it if we—”

  A sudden explosion erupted from outside, followed by a series of screams. An alarm sounded throughout the floor, flashing yellow lights. “Well that can’t be good,” muttered John.

  “Boss, I think this place is under attack!” shouted Hughes, trying to speak over the noise.

  Several people went running through the hall, passing them. “I’d say that’s probably right,” said John. He looked at Gel and Trin. “You two might wanna get out of here.”

  “We can’t leave the building,” said Master Gel.

  “The only entrance is at the front end,” said Master Trin.

  “Do you have any troops nearby?” asked John. For the first time today, he was glad that Mei had stayed behind at Bravo Point.

  Trin paused, staring at the air above him. “It looks like Master Tao’s forces are occupied. He says he’ll send them as soon as possible. We should take cover until they arrive.”

  “There’s a safe room. I suggest we use it,” said Gel.

  Another explosion, this time much closer. John could sense them coming down the nearby hallway. “You need to move!” he snapped. “We’ll stop them here.”

  Master Trin looked panicked. “That’s not—”

  Master Gel grabbed his arm. “Let them do as they want! We have to get out of here!”

  John watched as the two men made their escape. He didn’t blame them for being afraid. They weren’t soldiers. None of these people were.

  Hughes readied his rifle, checking the magazine and grinning. “About time we got some action.”

  “Alright, boys,” said John, unlatching his gun. “It’s time to show these folks what it means to carry a big stick.”

  ******

  Medical Quarter, Everlasting

  February 27, 2351

  Smoke was rising from the side of the Seventh Medical Building as hundreds of citizens ran screaming in every direction. A panicked office worker knocked into Lena and sent her tumbling to the ground.

  Several people ran through the square, nearly trampling her in the process. She rolled beneath the bench, holding her knees together with both hands. The mob’s screams were so loud it made her ears hurt, but it didn’t take long for them to dissipate.

  Lena’s chest pounded, and her tongue went dry. She was breathing so heavily, flinching at any sound she heard.

  She climbed out from under the bench, lifting herself onto her feet. She looked at her hands as they shook violently, then reached behind her head. She felt bits of dirt all through her hair and tried to wipe them away.

  The Sixth Medical Building’s doors were only a dozen steps away. She could run inside and wait this out. That was better than running blindly through the streets, wasn’t it? Who knew what sort of danger those people would encounter out there. What if another bomb went off? What if the Leadership released the toxin in the streets, paralyzing everyone in the process? Those people would just be helplessly lying there, unable to avoid another attack. At least inside a building, she could hope for some kind of protection.

  The doors opened with ease, although the lights inside were flickering. The explosion must have damaged one of the lines.

  She leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. The whole first floor of the building seemed to be empty.
Everyone must have evacuated as soon as they heard the explosion. I wonder if Terry’s in here somewhere, she thought.

  Probably not anymore. The doctors had likely already moved him to safer location. Either that, or he was under lock and key and inaccessible. Lena called up her display to look at the report she’d found. It said he was in room 229b. The basement, right beneath this floor. By the look of the blueprints, the stairs were pretty close. If she wanted to, she might be able to find the room.

  Whatever was going on outside, the Department of Civil Protection would respond with due force fairly quickly. They’d never notice her taking a peek in the basement.

  Really, what harm could it do?

  She kept the map up and began following it. It led her past several desks and terminals. Various office supplies had been knocked to the floor, no doubt from the panicked workers as they fled. In the rear, a few yards behind the office administrator’s unit, she found a set of doors. Right through here, she told herself. I can do this.

  She reached out to touch the handle, swallowing her fears, but stopped.

  There was a voice on the other side. Someone was coming.

  ******

  Jinel Din opened the door and immediately drew her weapon. “Halt!” she commanded.

  Terry glanced over her shoulder to watch as a woman fell backward onto the floor. “Wait!” she begged, holding her arms above her head. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

  Jinel looked down at the girl, tilting her head a little and staring. She lowered her weapon.

  “What is it?” asked Terry.

  “This woman,” muttered Jinel.

  The girl kept her eyes closed, keeping her head against the wall. She was trembling. “I was only here to get away from the explosions. Please! I’m sorry.”

  Terry reached for Jinel’s arm. “Hey, let’s leave her alone and get going.”

  “She’s a high-level analyst,” said Jinel.

  “You’ve met her before?” asked Terry.

  Jinel looked at the girl on the floor. “Lena Sol, analyst.”

  Lena, still shaking, peeked up at them sideways. “Y-Yes, that’s me.”

  “Get out of here,” said Jinel. “It’s dangerous.”

  Lena scrambled to her feet, taking a few steps back. “Thank you, sir.”

  Jinel and Terry stepped out of the stairwell. “See that you get home quickly.”

  Lena stared at Terry, noticing him for the first time. She looked surprised, raising her finger at him. “Y-You’re…”

  “What?” he asked, expecting her to say something about how strange he looked.

  “You’re Terry,” she finally said.

  He stopped at the sound of his own name. “How does everyone know who I am around here?”

  “She knows a lot of things,” said Jinel.

  Lena stared at both of them. “You’re taking him out of here? But he’s not restrained. That’s not procedure, is it?”

  “Didn’t I tell you to go home, Analyst?” asked Jinel, lifting her weapon a little.

  “Hey, easy,” said Terry. “There’s no reason for that. Look at her. She’s not dangerous. Let’s just get out of here.”

  Lena’s eyes narrowed a bit, and she looked out the nearby window in the direction of the smoke. Terry could sense the gears turning in her head. She was putting it all together. “You’re not with Civil Protection, are you?”

  “There’s the level-five analyst in action,” said Jinel.

  “Level-seven,” corrected Lena, her voice shaking. She swallowed. “S-Soon to be level-eight. Your records are outdated. Are you logged into the network?”

  Terry tried to focus on her heartbeat. Injured as he was, he could still sense it beating quickly. She was terrified. “How do you know who I am?” Terry asked.

  Lena held her hands in front of her. “I met your friends. They came here to find you.”

  Friends? Was she talking about Ludo and Ysa? “What do you mean?”

  “Doctor Curie and Sergeant Finn,” she said.

  The names meant nothing to him. “Who?”

  “You don’t know your own friends?” she asked.

  “We don’t have time for this,” barked Jinel. “We have to go, Terry. Civil Protection will dispatch a team soon. No doubt they’ve already landed close by and are investigating the explosion.”

  Terry nodded. “Okay.”

  “Wait, what about the others? You can’t go!” demanded Lena.

  “Watch us,” said Jinel, starting to leave.

  Terry reluctantly followed. He wanted to find out what this analyst was talking about, but he also couldn’t risk getting caught again.

  Lena started after them. “Terry, wait a moment! Please!”

  Jinel was already outside, waiting with the door open. Terry could smell the smoke from the nearby building as it continued to burn. He grabbed the handle, pausing to look back at the girl. “It’s too dangerous for me. Sorry.” He turned to leave.

  “John and Mei!” she yelled.

  He stopped. Did she just say—

  “Your friends are waiting for you, Terry,” said Lena Sol. “I’ve seen them. I met them. They came through the gate to look for you. They’re here!”

  “But,” he started, fumbling with the words. “But that’s not possible.”

  “I said, let’s go!” shouted Jinel.

  “She said John and Mei are here,” said Terry, almost dizzy. The shock of the news had hit him with the strength of a bull. He could barely react…barely process what this woman had said. How could his friends have come all this way? How could they have followed him? It wasn’t possible, was it? It couldn’t be. No, there had to be a mistake.

  A siren erupted from across the square, near the destroyed building where the bomb had hit. The noise filled the area with a piercing, overwhelming screech. They all covered their ears. “It’s starting!” cried Jinel Din, readying her rifle. “The Leadership’s pets have arrived.”

  ******

  Hall of the Leadership, Everlasting

  February 27, 2351

  John squeezed the trigger and unloaded a barrage of firepower into the oncoming forces. In a single spread, he managed to injure three of them, crippling their attack.

  The Blacks took the usual formation. Mickey, Track, and John took positions near the front and middle, while Hughes and Short stuck to the rear.

  The fallen enemy soldiers reached for their guns, despite being shot, but Mickey and Track made quick work of them. John preferred not to kill these people, but when a bullet to the leg doesn’t stop a man, there’s only one option left.

  Another wave came through the narrow set of doors, but they fell to the floor almost immediately, stopped by two sniper shots and a well-placed knife throw. The sound of Hughes reloading his rifled echoed through the facility.

  “Should we keep this party going?” asked Track.

  “Let’s push them out,” said John.

  With his team at his side, John led the way forward. They stepped over the fallen enemy fighters and made their way through the double doors.

  As soon as John entered the following corridor, he was beset by three more enemies, too close to target. A round of metal zipped through the air and into one of the men’s necks, courtesy of Hughes. He fell onto the floor, bleeding out.

  John withdrew a knife from his side, slid beneath another target, and cut the ankles deep. The man screamed and dropped to his knees, right before Track drove another blade into the soldier’s temple. It was all done in a single, fluid attack.

  The Blacks pushed forward, slaying one insurgent after another. Several civilians had already been killed and now littered the hallway floors with their blood. “Double time it!” barked John.

  They rounded another corner, coming into the tower entrance. The foyer was largely empty, but screams could be heard outside. John gave his team the signal to progress, but to do so cautiously. When they reached the outer door, he spotted several armed individuals. “Everyone s
et? Let’s clear the yard!”

  “Right beside you, boss,” said Track.

  The Blacks deployed through the entrance doors using a standard SWAT pattern, alternating left and right. John was the first outside, and he spotted several targets in the streets nearby.

  Track and Mickey let loose a storm of firepower, tagging three in the head, two in the chest.

  Hughes came out last, along with Short, quickly propping his rifle on a stone block, using the structure to shield himself. With his finger steady on the trigger, he fired at an oncoming target further down the street, shattering the man’s forehead.

  John threw a knife, hitting one of the last intruders in the chest, then ran for the man’s gun, disarming him. With the enemy’s weapon in his hand, John kicked the corpse to the ground, tossing the weapon behind him. Using his own, he took aim and fired, hitting two more with direct shots. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a moving shadow approaching from a nearby alley. Without another thought, he unlatched a small grenade, held it briefly, then threw it along the ground and into the opening. It bounced off one of the walls, frightening the men inside before finally exploding, sending a cloud of dust into the open street.

  In under a minute, the Blacks had the area secure, with most of the combatants on the run, heading deeper into the city. “Should we go after them?” asked Track.

  “Let the government handle the rest,” said John.

  Another shot erupted from Hughes’s rifle. It hit a target in the distance, over a hundred meters removed from them. “Sorry!” called the sniper. “He was getting away.”

  John watched as the target fell, but noticed the bullet had only snagged his gut. He’d have to get closer to finish the job. “Mickey, with me,” said John. “The rest of you, hold this position.”

  Mickey and John jogged to the injured survivor as he struggled to crawl. The soldier had left his weapon behind in a desperate move to flee, so John motioned for Mickey to grab it. As John approached, he found the soldier trailing blood behind him, grunting as he tried to get away. “That’s enough,” said John, once he was a few meters from the man.

  The soldier stopped, raising his hands.

  John turned him on his side, then frisked him for any weapons. He found a few knives, but nothing else. Mickey kept his weapon aimed on the soldier the whole time. “You wanna tell me what you people are doing?” asked John as he loomed over the bleeding stranger.