by M. R. Forbes
He had disappeared immediately after.
He returned now. She noticed he had forsaken his usual white suit for light body armor similar to hers. Even when they had been on the road here, he hadn’t been concerned enough about his safety to use extra protection. Why was he wearing it now?
He ignored her questioning glance at the sight of the armor, dropping a thick notebook on the flat surface in front of her.
“This belonged to the head of the facility,” he said.
“Where did you get it?” she asked.
“It was locked in King’s safe. I would have been back sooner, but I had to get the password from him.”
“I thought you don’t have long-range communications?”
“We don’t from the road,” he replied. “But the old military installations all have emergency radio transmission systems, including this one. I’ve been in contact with King since we arrived. He’s pleased with the work you’ve been doing for us. We’re both pleased you decided to cooperate in the end.”
“You taught me a lesson, and I’ve always been a quick learner. My husband is dead. There’s no reason for me to keep pretending like I can do anything about it. I can be a prisoner, or I can be a trusted asset, but you’re going to use me either way. I’d rather have some freedom, given a choice.”
She kept her eyes locked on Ghost the entire time. She noticed him flinch slightly when she mentioned Hayden.
What did that mean?
“I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way. As I said, trust is earned, and you have a long way to go beyond simply saying the words I want to hear.”
“I know,” Natalia replied. “I’ll prove myself to you. I will.” She put her hand on the notebook. “There’s no guarantee what you’re looking for is in here.”
“I know if it is, you’ll find it. I’m not willing to accept the scientists who worked here wouldn’t leave some means for future generations to access what they knew, even if as you say, they hid those clues in plain sight. They had to know the information stored here could be valuable to someone, someday. That notebook was down here when we arrived. It wasn’t taken. It wasn’t destroyed. There has to be a reason for that.”
“It will take some time,” she said.
“You have three hours,” Ghost replied. “No more.”
The statement caught her off-guard. “What? Why the sudden rush?”
He stared at her for a moment before speaking, deciding how much to say.
“We went to the north side of the city looking for your control boards. We saw trife gathering on the other side of the river, in numbers greater than anything I’ve ever seen. They were coming out of the wilderness in what seemed like an endless tide. I think they may be preparing an attack.”
Natalia felt a sudden chill at the news. That must be what had been bothering him earlier, and the reason he was wearing the armor now.
“On Ports?”
“And possibly the other cities to the south.”
“Aren’t we safe down here?”
“We have been, but it could be they’re tired of us having this foothold. Or maybe the energy from the generators will draw them in, and I don’t know if the defenses will hold against such large numbers. If we lose power, we lose the servers. We may never be able to recover them. Even if they leave the facility alone, even if they continue south to Sanisco, we could wind up trapped here, too far behind their lines to get back out. I just don’t know.”
“Have the trife ever acted like this before?” she asked.
“Not that I’ve seen, but they’re in a constant state of evolution. These trife are larger, like the ones we saw near the bunker. Stronger. More powerful. And there are thousands of them. We need the information on those data stores, now more than ever. The trife were delivered here to wipe us out. Only the appearance of the goliaths saved us from extinction. But what if the goliaths can’t stop this threat? If there are weapons caches out there, as we suspect, we need to know where they are. We need to prepare.”
She looked at the computer screen, and then at the notebook. She picked it up, opening the first page and quickly scanning it. It was a journal. A handwritten journal.
“There’s nothing you can do for me here,” she said. “Leave me in peace and let me work. I’ll send word through Bones when I have something.”
“Natalia,” Ghost said. “I want to be able to trust you. Now more than ever. This is more than our lives at stake. I know you care about the people you call innocents. If the trife overwhelm us, they’ll die, too.”
“You can trust me,” Natalia said. “I’ve made my decision. I’ve made my peace. I’m yours.”
She stared up into his eyes. They locked on one another. Then he nodded. “Hurry.”
He left the room. She returned her attention to the journal. If the password were hiding in there, she would find it. She meant it when she told Ghost she was his.
It was a hell of a lot better than any of the alternatives.
43
“THAT’S IT,” Casey said, pointing at the broken skyline of a city visible through the tank’s displays. “Ports.”
Hayden swallowed the mix of fear and excitement that caused his heart to pulse. That was where Ghost had brought Natalia, and he had no reason to believe she wasn’t still there.
They had taken a direct line from the bunker toward the city, after finalizing the refuel and recharge, burying Jake, and getting back on the road. It was early morning now, the sun just starting to rise to their right, peeking out over the hills. They had made good time, keeping an even speed across the landscape and rolling over anything that would have slowed a lesser vehicle down. They hadn’t passed anything of note on the way. No cars. No horses. No trife. The rust-hued landscape had been barren of life, silent and dead.
“How do we find the Scrapper’s base?” Hayden asked, his eyes scanning the skyline.
So much destruction. So much death. And yet instead of banding together, humankind had continued to fracture. It was so senseless.
“We’ll know we’re close when they start shooting at us,” she replied.
“If they know we’re coming.”
“Ales should have delivered us to Sanisco hours ago, Sheriff. You can bet King’s gotten the word out that he’s missing. And tanks aren’t exactly common out here.”
“Good point. When we get there, I go in with the Butcher, and you stay in here.”
“Sheriff,” Casey started to argue.
“No. I need you to distract them while I look for Natalia.” He pulled a transceiver from his pocket. “How much range do these have?”
“A couple of miles in ideal circumstances. But they’re useless once you go underground.”
“We’ll stay in touch as long as we can.” He put his hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him. “Promise me you’ll stay in the tank. I don’t want to lose another Deputy.”
She nodded. “Okay, but if you need me, I’ll come running. You’re the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had out here.”
“You are a friend, Casey. That’s why I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She put her hand on his for a moment before returning it to the tank’s controls.
Another hour passed before they entered the city in earnest. The tank rolled through deserted streets, crushing rubble beneath its treads as it navigated around building after building that had been torn apart either during the war or after it. They didn’t see any signs of the Scrappers. They didn’t encounter any trife, either. After covering what felt like half of the city, Hayden started to wonder if they had really made it to Ports, or if the Scrappers didn’t have a base here after all.
“I don’t know what to say, Sheriff,” Casey said, her eyes focused on the camera displays, searching for signs of activity. “I would have at least expected some trife to be watching us. There’s nothing.”
Hayden didn’t like it, and he damn well didn’t trust it. He needed to be prepared.
He retreated to the back of the tank, grabbing the magazines and rifle he had laid aside and loading up his armor. He checked his pistol and extended and retracted the metal hand’s claws to ensure it was all functioning properly. As he did, his eyes fell on Jake’s bag, still sitting off to the side in the vehicle. The only way he could make up for the loss of the Borger was to find Natalia, save her, and then move on to helping the rest of the people under King’s thumb. He knew his wife would understand. She wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once he was done, he picked up the transceiver and pressed the button on the side. “Chains, can you hear me?” he said, using her nickname. The radios weren’t private. If anyone else were on the same frequency, they would be overheard.
“I hear you,” she replied. “It’s working.”
“I’m going to head up top and take a quick look around. Maybe get a better perspective on things.”
“Pozz that. Be careful.”
Hayden moved to the ladder, grabbing the hat he had taken from King before scaling it and opening the hatch. He climbed out beside the Butcher, putting the hat on his head. He looked ahead, toward a building that was mostly intact, save for the windows. They had all been broken out, the interior gutted of anything of value, leaving the other side of the city visible through it. He couldn’t see much through the thin slivers of empty panes. It looked as though there was a body of water separating one part of the city from the other, with a rusted old bridge connecting the two banks. The far end was strangely darker, cast in an odd, deep shadow.
“I see a river,” he said through the transceiver. “Do you think the base is on the other side?”
“I have no idea, Sheriff. We’re looking for a needle in a haystack, I guess. I thought it would be easier.”
“Me, too. Turn left up ahead, and then head west for a few blocks before turning north again. I want to get down toward the bridge.”
“Pozz.”
Hayden pocketed the transceiver and headed back to the inside of the tank, closing it and rejoining Casey on the inside. She steered the tank over a few blocks and then turned it back north. The supports for the bridge were visible ahead, rusted and ugly.
“I don’t know if it will support this thing,” Casey said.
“We’re not going to risk it. I may need to go on foot.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“We may not have a choice.”
“I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
“I told you, I have the Butcher.”
She glared at him but didn’t argue. He had a feeling if it came to it, she would follow him anyway.
The tank crested a hill, giving them a good view of the bridge below and the other side of the city. Hayden’s eyes tracked the shadows as they shifted in the streets, moving in a way that betrayed their true nature.
His heart started thumping at the same time a chill worked its way across his spine. Those weren't shadows thrown by the rising sun. They were trife. Thousands of them. They milled around one another in silence, as though they were waiting for something.
“Chains, we need to back off,” he said.
“What do you see?” she asked.
“Hell.”
The tank groaned as she shifted the gears, reversing the treads. They started rolling backward. Hayden watched the trife. Why were they waiting there? What were they waiting for?
A sudden hum started rising within their ranks. A solid, steady, throaty hiss. The mass began to vanish beneath the rise, the pitch of their calls intensifying.
All at once, they started to move, rushing forward toward the bridge, hundreds of the creatures thundering ahead. They poured onto it, dashed over it, at least for a few seconds.
The bridge was almost out of Hayden’s sight when it exploded.
He didn't know what caused the detonation. One second it was there. The next, it was gone, a ball of fire engulfing it, trife thrown all around it.
When the smoke cleared a few seconds later, the bridge was gone.
“Chains, stop,” Hayden said, still watching.
The tank ground to a halt. He moved forward on the turret to get a better view. The trife were still humming, but now hundreds of them from the back were lifting into the sky on large wings, sweeping forward and picking up the others ahead of them to carry them across the chasm.
He had never seen two groups of different trife work together before. On the Pilgrim, they had killed one another.
Was this a new development?
Either way, the trife were coming. If Natalia was here, he didn't have long to find her before this whole place was overcome.
44
“TIME IS ALMOST UP,” Ghost said, sweeping into the room.
Natalia looked over at him, the first time she had looked anywhere but at the journal or the terminal display in three hours.
“I've almost got it,” she said.
She had tried so many combinations already. The next one had to be the right one. She looked away, typing something else into the password box. Once again, it failed.
“The trife are on the move. We have twenty minutes before they block our escape.”
“I’ll get it,” she insisted. “Just give me a few more minutes.”
“Bones, go,” Ghost said. “Help the others. I'll take care of her.”
Bones didn't argue. She hurried from the room, heading for the lift.
Natalia tried another password. It didn't work. She flipped the page in the journal. Damn it. She almost had it.
A click behind her head distracted her for a moment.
“You have two minutes,” Ghost said, putting the muzzle of the revolver against her skull. “And then you die.”
“Damn it, Ghost,” she replied. “The journal is a key. A cryptographic key. The first letter of each entry is a part of the cipher. I think it's a polyalphabetic, but that's not enough. There may be extra characters.”
He reached around her, slamming the journal closed, sticking his face in hers.
“Bullshit,” he said. “You're stalling. You've been stalling. I trusted you.”
Natalia shook her head. “I'm not. You can trust me, I swear. It should be right. I don't-”
Her eyes fell on the back of the notebook. She could have kicked herself for missing it. An inscription. The first word was “Thank.” The first letter was “T.”
She reached past Ghost, entering the last letter, transformed to N by the cipher.
The display changed. She was in.
“There,” she said, turning to him. “I told you-”
She didn't get to finish the sentence. She felt a heavy smack against the side of her head. She saw the world falling away in front of her.
Everything went dark.
45
HAYDEN JUMPED BACK into the tank, pulling the hatch closed behind him. He turned the manual lock, sealing it in place, before digging the Butcher’s transceiver out of his pocket.
“Stay on the tank,” he ordered it. “Protect the tank.”
The transceiver beeped twice. That was the only acknowledgment he would receive.
“Geez,” Casey said, up at the front of the tank. “I’ve never seen them work together like that. And I’ve never seen so many.”
Hayden hurried to the front of the vehicle, watching the display. The trife were on the move, the wingless demons being carried over the river by the winged creatures. Scrappers had appeared on the buildings nearby, firing down at the aliens, round after round pouring into the front lines. He hadn’t seen where they had come from. He hadn’t realized they were hiding around them the entire time, watching the trife and waiting for the assault. They were too concerned with that enemy to worry about him.
Hundreds of the creatures were already across, charging up the street toward the tank. They hissed to one another, assembling in patterns and leaving a wide berth around the vehicle, clearly aware of its destructive power.
What would have been its destructive po
wer anyway, if they had any shells for the massive cannon mounted on top.
“What the hell should we do?” Casey asked, her hands on the tank’s controls, ready to move.
“Nothing,” Hayden decided. “Let them go past. We don’t know where the Scrapper base is. Maybe they do.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, but do you have a better idea?”
The first line of trife made it to the tank. Some of them tried to climb onto it, and they heard the thunking of the Butcher’s feet on top of them, moving to intercept. Those creatures appeared on the display a moment later, broken and bent, thrown down and into the others.
The demons streamed by, going around them, breaking for the Scrapper positions. They heard a soft rumble further back, and then a car came into view behind them, a gun mounted in its rear. The Scrapper guiding it aimed it their direction, spinning it up and sending round after round zipping through the air, tearing a line of trife to pieces, the slugs pinging off the back of their armored vehicle. It only remained for a few seconds before lurching away, the mass of creatures closing in.
“Grepping gatling gun,” Casey said. “Damn.”
“Turn us around,” Hayden said. “We can’t let them get too far ahead. We don’t want them to overwhelm the base. They’ll kill Nat.”
“Pozz that,” Casey said, adjusting the tank’s controls, getting it to rotate on one tread.
It started to spin back around, drawing the attention of the trife. More of them started climbing onto the turret, challenging the Butcher. Creature after creature was thrown loose, but there were so many it didn’t matter. For every one the machine killed, three more took its place.
