He ran through the burned and pallid landscape, sensing victory as the seconds counted down. He’d done it. He’d bested the bastards who had the gall to send a girl after him. A girl! He smiled at the thought of her, hidden behind her guns and body armor that made her look like some kind of cocooned beetle. She was something to look at, though. He couldn’t deny that she was pleasing to the eyes as he checked his watch, which showed he was under one minute as he rounded a bend and stopped when he caught sight of Zone 3, the area where Longman had "relocated" the Crazies. There was a visible pall over the space, nearly 10 city blocks hidden behind a patchwork of rusted fence. The entire area was peopled with strange and terrible sounds, screams, guttural laughter, and what sounded like deep-throated voices lifted up in fervent prayer. The echo made Elias shiver as he studied his clock. Down to ten seconds.
He jogged hard right, smile blossoming across his face, when, without sound or warning, Marisol lunged and punched him in the side of the head. He careened to his left, the shock and kinetic energy of his fall forcing him over. Marisol skidded out in front of him and assumed a shooting stance as Elias looked in every direction. There was nowhere left to run. She brought her rifle up, finger quivering around the trigger, hesitating, when a horrific sound shrieked from her HUD, causing her to tear her helmet off. It was a sound she’d never heard before. The end of the run. The end of Absolution! Elias had won!
"End it!"
Marisol wheeled to see Sikes appearing behind her, pistol out, racking the slide, bringing it up.
"It’s over," she said.
Sikes grunted, "I don’t give a damn if it’s over or not, end it!" He moved to shove her aside when she grabbed his pistol and wrenched it free.
"It’s over!"
He swung at her and she dropped low and fisted his throat with such forced that he passed out and hit the ground in a heap, a dark stain spreading down the leg of his pants. Elias watched this in wonder and then levered himself up. The two stood and shared a look in brutal silence and Elias thought, for an instant, that his moment of release had come.
Marisol pursed her lips as images from the hunt flitted and flashed in her mind. She had him in her sights for an instant and couldn’t do it. Couldn’t pull the trigger. She seethed as she swung around and made her way back through Zone 5, hoping that no one of means had seen her fail when it mattered most. She would remember this moment for the rest of her days. The distinct sounds and smells of her first, true defeat and how her world had been turned upside down. Yet even though she’d been sent to hunt the boy down, she could not deny that she’d immediately sensed some kinship, some strange connection to him.
On the top of the Codex Building Longman cursed the day Elias was born and rebuked everyone who’d gathered to watch the hunt with a volcanic look. He took refuge in his office, dark thoughts forming. The wheels turning, Longman recognized that he needed to address this situation post-haste. No session of Absolution had ever ended this badly for him. He needed to cut his losses quickly. Something passed over his face: a squall of pure anger. He railed against himself, and then realized what had to be done. The boy and the little harlot that failed to shoot him dead when given a chance had betrayed him and made a mockery of the system and everything New Chicago stood for. Both of them had to die. It was as simple as that.
Elias was carried on the shoulders of Max and the other Trainers through the Pits in the day’s paling light. A celebration was in progress, the other Runners raising voices to his name, flinging words of encouragement, grinning, pumping fists. Bonfires were lit and instruments oiled and plans made to make merry into the wee hours of the night.
It wasn’t just that Elias had won. It was the manner in which he’d won. A pure, unalloyed triumph. He’d beaten the very best the Apes had and dispatched two of their nastiest assassins. His session of Absolution was instantly elevated to legend. Even Moses O’Shea partook in the festivities, beaming like a man who’d won more than he could have imagined, though he harbored worrisome suspicions that Longman would make Elias pay a terrible price. He’d seen how Longman had slinked like a beaten cur away from the other watchers as soon as he saw that Elias had won. Yes, there certainly would be hell to pay, but that worry was for another night. This eve was for drink and laughter and the building up of Elias and the all the others who shared in his victory.
CHAPTER 29
Marisol and the Apes limped back to their barracks in the tac vehicle, which was burdened with body-bags containing the chunks of the two Apes downed by the IED. She was uncertain whether Farrow and the others knew what had transpired between her and the boy, but she heard snatches of conversation, Sikes mumbling to Harrigan, who head-bobbed surreptitiously in her direction as he nursed a flask of hooch. She suspected they were plotting against her and would tell the commandant what had happened during the hunt. She was fine with that. The rule were the rules and technically time was up before she had a chance to trigger her rifle, but still. Questions would be posed and she plumbed her mind for some semblance of a reasonable answer as to why she didn’t down the boy when she’d had the chance.
Word of Elias’s run spread like wildfire through the lower reaches of New Chicago, an area where any news (let alone good news) was exceptionally rare. The Scrappers who’d witnessed the run jawed with others, sharing images of the deaths of the Apes caught on a chewed-up smart-phone that was decidedly no longer smart, but still functioning. Blackened gums were bared for smiles as the downtrodden reveled in this boy from nowhere cutting down two of the Beast’s best men. Maybe the boy wasn’t precisely one of their own, but he was close enough, and he’d done what none of them had yet been able to do: Stick a finger in the eye of Longman, the devil. The images of the Apes falling gave the destitute some small measure of satisfaction along with something that was in far shorter supply in New Chicago. Hope.
CHAPTER 30
The night was warm when Marisol exited the rear of the barracks. A few spokes of heat lightning ripped the sky, moonlight gilding the ground as she hopped onto a pair of tree-trunks that had been lashed together as part of a mini-obstacle course. She could see fires burning in the distance in the direction of the Pits. The Runners always celebrated after a successful hunt (an exceedingly rare event), which never quite made sense to Marisol because sooner or later, they’d eventually be crossing over.
Even the best of them would pull a muscle or tweak a tendon or pull up lame in some other fashion. It was just a matter of how and when they were added to the Apes’ scrapbook commemorating those killed in action. She squinted in the darkness and made out a form, barely visible, moving out and away from the Pits. Intrigued, she ducked back inside the barracks and snagged her rucksack and moved out and away from all that she knew.
Elias stole away from the Pits, which were now bathed in the retina-searing light from the great bonfires that had been set in his honor. Kegs of mashed cider and thick, dark beer had been tapped and opened and sides of meat roasted by swineherds who’d been bused in by Moses for the occasion. All in celebration of what he’d accomplished. The partiers would likely be inebriated till dawn, affording Elias the perfect opportunity for unfettered city exploration. He jaunted around the back of the Pits, dipped inside his room, closed and locked his door, and booted up the cellphone he took from Caleb.
He swiped past the screens and files he’d seen before and tapped an icon hidden within a sub-folder. On the face of the phone sprung a digital GPS-linked map of some area in the middle of the city. A map! Elias gasped when he saw the map automatically zeroing in on Zone 3. The place where they kept the Crazies. He pinched the screen and zoomed down into the city and the images, which were incredibly detailed. Using his forefinger, he was even able to trace a path outside the city wall. He thumbed across the screen to get a better idea of what the map led to, and then he saw the key resting on the floor and surmised that whatever secrets that key kept presumably lay hidden in Zone 3. He pocketed the phone and nearly jumped out of his
skin when he turned and saw the person hidden in the shadows near a door, staring at him.
CHAPTER 31
"What happened to you?" Erik asked while emerging out of the darkness. Beads of sweat dappled Elias’s forehead. He had no idea how long Erik had been standing there or how much he’d seen.
"Moses and some of the others were looking for you," Erik continued.
Elias tucked the phone in a pocket, the screen still glowing through the fabric on his pants as he searched for something, anything to say.
"I was tired, Erik," Elias said. "The run and all, it took a lot out of me."
Erik nodded, his eyes drifting to the place where the now-darkened phone rested in Elias’s pocket. For a brief instant Elias wondered what he might do if Erik asked about it.
"You need to be careful tonight," Erik said as Elias moved slowly past him. "Hey. You hear me?"
Elias stopped and looked back at his friend.
"Moses said ‘it’s in the wind.’"
"What’s that mean?"
Erik shrugged his shoulders, face clouded with fear.
"I'm serious, Elias."
"I know you are."
"You kicked the crap out of the man," Erik offered. "I mean, I don’t think you understand what … you showed up the best of his trained killers, that’s what you did today. All I’m saying is don’t forget who runs the show around here, okay? They’re gonna be pissed and the people that mess with Longman, they got really short futures if you know what I mean."
Elias flashed a high-wattage smile.
"You worry too much, man. Those lifers don’t scare me. Truth is, they couldn’t catch me even if they wanted to," he replied before spinning and exiting the room.
CHAPTER 32
Elias felt himself at peace as he stole silently away from Moses and the celebration, taking in the outer ring of the city under a half moon. He struck off down forgotten pathways, energized, excited, his heart thumping like a metronome.
He sprinted through the urban jungle, listening to the sounds of New Chicago after dark. The city was generally as deadly as a pit of vipers, but Zone 3, his destination, was something else. It was downright feral. Elias heard the loud booms and satanic cackling emanating from the land of the Crazies before he saw anything. And then, moving over the crest of a fallen overpass he saw this: a sprawling apartment complex that formed a natural barrier between Zone 3 and the rest of the city, then tall fencing, at least fifteen feet high and topped with concertina wire that sprang out from either end of the complex and ringed the whole area off from the world. He glanced at the complex and the tents and other crappy structures nearby where the lower classes of New Chicago lived and died and engaged in underground commerce. For a second, he wondered how it was that a man like Longman could hold power and instill such fear. Certainly he had the guns, but didn’t the others have the numbers? Wasn’t it only a matter of time before someone picked up a stone or a brick or a knife? How long would it be until someone took a stand against Longman? How bad did things have to get before someone had finally had enough? He pondered this for a moment, then slipped into the darkness, following the map.
CHAPTER 33
Elias cased the outer fencing and then advanced under cover of moonlight, hopping between buildings, keeping himself small and out of sight. He swept the exterior of the apartment complex, and then kicked in a wooden barrier and entered through a lower window, mindful of what might be lurking inside.
He discovered several hungry homeless prowling an inner corridor, wailing to themselves as they crashed past, foraging for something to eat. He waited until their screams grew distant, then dropped down into a lower apartment, past the rotting corpses of two unfortunates entangled in a bed, and then kicked out a screened window that provided an avenue into Zone 3.
He met another inner section of fencing. His fingers stuttered across its metal links as he lifted it up and climbed under and checked the map on the cellphone. He was exactly where he needed to be. The sounds he made on his nocturnal mission were small, but not so slight that Marisol could not easily track him. She’d been watching him ever since he’d crept away from the Pits. She waited for Elias to melt into the shadows, and then she followed his trail down into Zone 3.
Elias moved like a wraith as he followed the path set forth on the cellphone, making excellent time when someone called for him.
"Kid? Hey, kid?"
Elias peered into the pitch and saw a man gesturing to him.
The man inched forward, filthy hat hiding most of his face, moonlight shimmering off staggered, yellowed teeth that glimmered like tiny Chiquita tombstones. Instantaneous revulsion bubbled up inside Elias.
"You ain’t from here, is you?"
Elias remained silent as the man drew closer, moving with an awkward gait. "Tell true, kid," the man continued. "You’re from the outside, right? I mean, you gots all your digits and hair and teeth and whatnot. You’re from back in the world?"
Elias nodded and the man sniggered to himself.
"Take me back with you. Show me the way out."
Elias shook his head and clenched a balled fist, expecting hell as the Man stepped into the light and Elias saw that he was being held aloft on primitive wooden prosthetics. The man tottered like a drunk, his smile now a nasty sneer.
"How come ya won’t take me back?"
"Cause you don’t belong out there," Elias offered.
This took a second to sink in, and then the man shook his body and the prosthetics broke away and the man flopped on the ground and used his momentum to slither toward Elias like a snake, metal shank out that — WHACK! — he swung at Elias, who avoided the blade and booted the man in the face. The man grunted, hands covering the nose which Elias just reversed into his skull, as Elias sidestepped the horror and ran as the man screamed for help. Elias was in such a hurry that he failed to spot the closed-circuit cameras (CCTV) that dangled far overhead from blackened telephone poles, hooked to still-functioning solar panels.
Elias ran past an old textile mill and by misbegotten architecture, shells of former enterprises that the Crazies had tried to reanimate into something functional with little training and less supplies. He perused the cellphone and followed the route set forth on the digital map until he was standing outside an old storage facility. The kind of place where his father had placed a goodly bit of Elias’s family’s possessions in the days before it all went under.
Gripping the key, Elias shimmied between a chain lock on the exterior of the building and made his way inside. The halls were as black as the belly on a seal as he navigated by light from the cellphone. He stopped periodically, eyes roaming the shadows. He listened. Nothing. All was quiet. He continued to follow the map on the phone, turning right, then left, moving straight ahead until he reached the back of the building.
Looking at the phone, it appeared that he was right on top of his final destination. He tried the key in every lock within sight, but it wouldn’t engage. Sweat roped his forehead. He began to think that the whole thing was a terrible mistake. He’d have to make it back past the man whose nose he’d broken and the other Crazies, who were no doubt just waiting to taste his blood and savor his flesh. His eyes skipped up beyond the lockers to an alcove at the end of the hall, hidden amongst the other lockers. Possibly a space used by whoever once owned the building.
A metal ladder led up to this alcove, where a door was visible. On the door was a padlock. Elias pulled himself up the ladder and angled the key out and slipped it into the lock. The corner of his lips pulled back in a rictus when the key fit perfectly and engaged. He opened the lock and removed it, and grabbed the doorknob and opened it, and held up the cellphone for light. His eyes went wide when he saw what Caleb had hidden inside.
CHAPTER 34
Even when he was a child, Hendrix had trouble sleeping. It was a byproduct of waiting for his mother, who stayed up till all hours with various gentleman callers, only coming back to the efficiency she shared with young Hen
drix in the wee hours of the morning. He functioned now on only a few winks of sleep, and spent his nights poring over CCTV and other footage shot by the old cameras that were still hooked to turbines and solar panels. The footage was from various sections in the city: the former financial district, Zones 1 and 2; the lands surrounding Zones 4 and 5; and, most interesting off all, the footage from Zone 3.
Hendrix and a few of the others made a nightly ritual of watching the imagery from Zone 3. They cackled with delight at the abuses the Crazies (or "Loons," as some called them) suffered on themselves, the grotesque parade of the diseased and deformed and brain-addled as they fought over scraps and places to sleep and defecate. It was a hoot watching these freaks, and Hendrix believed in his heart of hearts it was a healthy outlet that kept his darker impulses at bay.
But the footage he saw tonight was something altogether different. Somebody, some boy (ostensibly normal and in possession of his faculties) could be seen sneaking into Zone 3. What the hell? The images were from a sufficient distance that Hendrix couldn’t make out the boy’s features even after he zoomed in and pulled back and rotated, but when he caught sight of another, a girl, following the boy, his mind began to race.
What were the odds of two sneaking into Zone 3? He’d never heard of it happening before, and after all the commotion from the Absolution session only a few hours ago — could it be possible? The two from the hunt today? Hendrix copied a clip of the footage and checked his watch. Longman would be sleeping, and death had come to those who’d roused him too early in the past, but still. He had to risk it. Longman would want to see this.
CHAPTER 35
Elias gazed in wide wonder at the inside of the room where Caleb kept his stash. A few old computer monitors and metal housings for other devices were piled on a table next to printers. The walls were shingled with printed pages and hand-scrawled messages and various maps of the city. A tattered copy of Atlas Shrugged. A table filled with bottles of pills and dirty magazines and stacks of crinkly paper money.
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