by Mark Lingane
Step by step, he made his way across the bay under the bridge. Several times, he wondered if it would be easier to grab hold of the beam with his hands and simply climb across. The pain from the concentration and electromagnetic manipulation drilled into him. The minutes crawled past. He thought he heard voices from above. He continued, each step making him grimace.
Then ahead, underneath the bridge, he thought he saw a pair of red eyes staring through the mist. There was a gust of air. The eyes disappeared. He held his breath. An infected swung out of the mist toward him, its teeth bared and its feet clinging to the beam. It swiped at him. He lost his grip and fell off.
Memphis stared at the timer. It didn’t help. She obviously had no ESP powers. The control panel was secured and she had zero tools. A shadow loomed over her and she looked up at the man standing over her.
“I’m sorry you’re caught up in all this.”
“Tyler! Is Thomas here as well?” She glanced around the room.
Tyler looked around. “I can’t … I’ll go look for him.”
“Before you go, would you happen to have anything like a knife?”
Tyler shook his head. “They made sure we were all clean.” He sat down next to her and stared at the bomb.
“It looks bad for us,” she said. “I don’t think we’re going to make it. You picked the losing side.”
“It’s better to be on the losing side than the wrong side.” He gave her a smile.
“You’re still in a Charger uniform. I wonder why they made you change with Thomas. Why put him in a Forty-ninth uniform and keep you as a Charger?”
“Maybe they needed him for something. Outlaw plans are usually insane, like Clint. Mix the two together, and who knows what’ll happen.”
“Yeah,” she replied. But doubt nibbled at her thoughts. “I wish Sebastian was here.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
“No, of course not. He’s just very useful with his tesla powers.”
He smiled at her. He felt in his undershirt pocket. He brought out the blade fragment. He twisted it in the light. “Similar enough to a knife,” he said. “Weave your bomb-diffusing magic, Memphis,” Tyler said. “I’m going to look for Thomas.”
Sebastian’s foot fell free and he swung wildly from the beam by one leg. The infected lunged, but Sebastian’s arc kept him out of reach. He grabbed the sword off his back and attracted his boot back onto the beam. Blood was rushing to his head and he found it hard to concentrate. He took a couple of stabs at the infected, but it dodged him easily. To his horror, another infected appeared next to it.
She worked away furiously with the blade. Her fingers ached and she frequently cut herself.
“I can’t find him,” Tyler said.
“Huh?”
“Thomas. He’s not here.”
“Oh, yeah. They’re probably using him for … could you just grab the corner of the … damn!”
The blade fragment fell to the ground. Her fingers were covered in blood. The metal skipped across the floor and landed on the edge of the steel cross set into the floor. If it fell into the crack, it would be gone. She wiped her hands and held her breath. She stuck one finger onto the metal, pressing it to the floor. She slid it back onto the concrete. She sat back and stared at the bomb.
“It’s no good. I can get the control panel open a fraction of an inch, but no more. And I have no other tools to help.”
“Hang on.” Tyler tugged at his boot, untying the lace and pulling it free. “I have an idea.” He handed it to her. He untied the other lace. Then, to her astonishment, he went into a corner and urinated on the long laces.
The two infected glared at Sebastian, their mouths slowly opening and closing. Drool dripped from their mouths into the water below. He couldn’t take the upside-down-ness any longer. He twisted and leaped from the beam he was holding, reached out and grabbed the next one along. His mind relaxed as his hand latched onto the edge of the beam, and his body felt the flush as blood started to flow in the correct direction. But he was now hanging by one hand from a girder under a bridge with two infected staring at him hungrily. He had seen better days.
One infected copied him and leaped over to the new beam. And then jumped directly at him. He speared it in the neck, and it fell into the water and was washed away. He was surprised that hanging from the beam by one arm wasn’t as difficult as he’d expected. His weight was heavy on the arm, but he felt he could deal with it. He put it down to the potato chips.
He hung there, staring at the second infected. The infected stared back. That was never going to last for too long.
The infected jumped at him.
Sebastian tried to cut it down with a wild slash, but only grazed it. The thing was on him, but it was struggling to get any kind of purchase. He kicked frantically as the creature clung to his waist. In a freak swipe, it knocked the sword from his hand and it tumbled down into the water below.
“This is disgusting,” Memphis said.
“Wet material can harden like steel.”
“I can tell you that it doesn’t smell like steel. And you’re very dehydrated.”
She had wedged the blade into the tiny gap in the control panel. Tyler had slipped in one of the laces, which gave them greater purchase, and then he slipped in the second lace after folding it over multiple times. It was like industrial cabling. Memphis wasn’t happy about touching it, but it was working. The panel was very slowly beginning to bend.
Tyler raised his boot and tried to wedge the sole in, but it slipped and the panel snapped shut. But at least it was bent.
“We’ll try it again,” Tyler said. “Only problem is that I’m sort of … out.”
“Don’t look at me,” Memphis said. “Not in front of all you men.”
“We’ll get someone else to do it,” he said. “I’m sure they’re all wetting themselves with panic anyway.”
“No!” Sebastian cried as his sword dropped into the water.
The infected lunged at him. Sebastian reached out, grabbed the creature around its throat and squeezed. It yelped in pain. It swung away and gripped its feet on the bar.
Sebastian cleared his mind, and searched. The infected saw him close his eyes and struck. And so did Sebastian’s sword; it came sailing back out of the water toward his hand, slicing into the infected on the way. He grasped the sword and speared the tip into the head of the infected, twisting it. The black ooze of its brain leaked out and the creature fell into the water.
He slipped his sword back into its sheath and continued. Using a combination of arms and feet, he alternately swung and stepped his way across to the island. He dropped down onto the sand under the bridge and relaxed his arms. They were exhausted.
Keeping low, he ran up to the road to scope the area. He saw a patrol of Chargers and outlaws. They were talking about how clever their plan was, and how stupid the 49th Division was. The final solution would end the war and the east would be triumphant—and it was all going to happen in half an hour.
One of the Chargers looked in his direction. He ducked back down and flattened himself against one of the bridge supports. He picked up a rock and threw it over the bridge. It landed in the water on the other side. While they were distracted investigating the sound, he ran alongside the road and passed them.
He followed the tire tracks across the grass to the administration building. He saw the truck that had crashed into the building. He approached cautiously. Several men were lying on the ground. He examined them. They were staring straight up, eyes open and distant. Drug paraphernalia lay scattered on the ground, enough to kill. He shook his head. These men were choosing to go out without comprehension.
There was a burst of gunfire. He ducked for cover behind the drugged-out bodies. They twitched as the bullets cut into them. He glanced ahead. He caught a glimpse of several Chargers standing behind rows of sandbags stacked to waist height. The infection obviously worked quickly here; he could see the subtle changes that were con
suming them. Already their skin was a pale shade of green.
The renegade Chargers had set up light and heavy artillery behind the sandbag barricade. Each man had a machine gun, and there were also two large, ground-mounted general-purpose machine guns. Their belts of one-inch rounds, coated in brass and steel, looked menacing in the mist and dreary light. The firing was wildly inaccurate, but unrelenting.
He picked up the body he was hiding behind, now very dead, and held it in front of himself as he ran forward. Within a few steps, the sound of the heavy machine gun echoed across the open space and erupted in the ground around him, too slow to precisely track his run. It was replaced by the rat-a-tat of the lighter guns, and the bullets smacked into the body. In seconds, they had torn it to pieces. Sebastian dropped the remains and dived behind the truck. He quickly glanced around the side. The men were reloading, and struggling with the weapons as their clouded minds worked against them.
The ground turned into a muddy bog under his feet as they dug into the tire tracks. He leaned against the front of the truck. The truck moved slightly. He turned and pushed. The truck rocked forward then back. He smiled. Obviously, they hadn’t put on the handbrake. He turned, dug his heels into the ground, and pushed. He felt his muscles flex and strain and the truck rolled backward. He relaxed and the truck rolled back toward him a fraction, then he pushed again and it rolled slowly toward the men.
They swung around and opened fire on the slowly advancing truck. Sebastian continued to push and the truck gained momentum. It also started to veer to one side.
The concentrated firing started to penetrate all the way through the vehicle and sizzle past him. He quickly glanced around. He was close, as close as he was going to get to any kind of cover. The men started to reload. He charged forward and leaped into the air, just as they opened fire. He ripped his sword off his back and blinked. As he flew high over the sandbags, the bullets stopped and hung in the air.
The pain shot through his head. He landed and swung his sword around into the Chargers.
Tyler pulled on the laces again, and this time the control panel buckled and sprang free. Memphis looked into the casing. Her heart sank. Normally, there would be a red, green, and blue wire. This device had twenty red ones. She tracked the wires, tracing each one. They created a maze of deliberately confusing leads. She took a deep breath, steadied her hands, and kept tracing.
The air was getting thick and unpleasant. The smell of urine was making her feel sick. It was on her hands, but she felt it was everywhere. Even though the room was cold, she was beginning to sweat.
Sebastian withdrew his sword from the last guard and ran to the door. It was locked. He cleared his mind, sensed the cogs within the lock, aligned the electrons, and the cogs clicked into place. He twisted the handle and the door opened.
He stepped into the room. It was calm. Men bustled around. In a corner stood Clint, a heavily bandaged Dom, and Thomas, talking together. His blood boiled. Some of the men turned. Several drew guns. He hacked into them with blistering speed. Clint ran at him, but he knocked the man aside. Dom appeared to collapse out of sheer terror.
“Thank the Lord, Sebastian,” Thomas said. “I’m glad you’re here to save us.”
34
SEBASTIAN PICKED THOMAS up by the throat and pushed him against the wall.
“It’s not how it looks,” Thomas managed to squeeze out. His face was turning red.
Sebastian released him and he fell against the wall, rubbing his neck and gasping for air.
“Explain to me how it is,” Sebastian said.
“You’re strong, no mistake about that.” Thomas gave him a weak smile.
“Tell me how it is,” Sebastian repeated through clenched teeth.
Thomas wiped away the sweat from his forehead. “The truth is, and it’s always complicated, we have to do some things in order to … balance … to come to a final solution. Look, the Forty-ninth Division has been the heart of all war for generations. If they continue doing what they’re doing and it escalates … who’s to say the Forty-ninth isn’t planning to take over the whole world, including your own home? It would lead to their destruction, and ours.”
Thomas’s speech had become frantic. “These are not empty words, Sebastian. The defeat of the Forty-ninth must be its outcome. We can’t be sentimental about it. It’s not for us to feel sympathy for the enemy. We should have sympathy for our own people instead. If the Chargers and other people have to sacrifice more generations in yet another campaign against them, then those responsible for this bloody conflict will have to pay for it with their lives.”
To Sebastian, it sounded like Thomas was reciting the words from an inner scroll—more propaganda from the Master. “Is it getting a little hot for you in this cold room?” he said.
Thomas ignored him and continued. “None of the Master’s prophetic words have been as true as his prediction that if the Forty-ninth succeeded in provoking another war, the result wouldn’t be the destruction of the innocent and just, but instead the wiping out of the Forty-ninth. This purification process is of vast importance, and will have unforeseeable consequences. But it can no longer be halted. It can only be guided in the right direction, toward the truth.”
“I’ve always found the truth to be very simple,” Sebastian said. “You’re either with us or with them.” The sound of a helicopter swept into range. “And what’s the escape chopper for? You’re lying.”
“No!”
“You’re just another weapon used by the Master,” Sebastian said.
“No, no, you must believe me. There are no lies from the Church of Truth.”
“Except the ones you tell yourselves,” Sebastian said coolly.
Thomas looked quickly at his watch. He was sweating heavily, although his breath fogged in the air. “Come with me,” he said. “I’ll take you to the Master and he can show you. We could use someone with your powers. We could finally have peace across the land. You can be the savior. Everyone here is dead. If they’re not, then they will be soon. The bird is landing. There are enough seats for two. Clint has served his purpose.”
“I think you and your truth would take up all the space.”
The two fell silent.
“Don’t make a stupid mistake, Sebastian.” Thomas glanced at his watch again. “You’re too young to understand the complexities of politics. We must make sacrifices for the greater good.”
Sebastian stared at him. The helicopter had landed, and the sounds of the rotors almost drowned out his voice. “One thing I’ve learned is that when people say ‘greater good,’ it’s because they’re evil. And I’ve seen a lot of greater good.”
Thomas slipped a knife from his belt and lunged forward, stabbing it into Sebastian’s stomach.
Memphis followed each wire through the tangle, counting off each decoy. The missing Thomas played on her mind.
“Tyler?”
“Yes?”
“If they were going to use Thomas to do something else, what would be more important, or even relevant, once this went off?”
“Ah, I see your point.”
“Tyler, I’m beginning to panic. I’m feeling lightheaded. Talk to me.”
“What about?”
“How … why did you come up here? There are only a handful of you. What did you expect to achieve?” Her fingers felt numb from the constant pressing and probing.
“Achieve?” Thomas’s speech was slurred. He struggled to stay conscious as the oxygen was used up in the airtight room. “Just following orders. We’re going to get gates open so survivors can get in …” His voice trailed away and unconsciousness claimed him.
The knife failed to penetrate Sebastian’s skin. Thomas stabbed repeatedly, but the blade bounced away, protected by an unseen barrier.
Sebastian grabbed the knife, wrenched it out of Thomas’s hand and threw it aside. “I’m a tesla,” he reminded the center. “Surrender.”
“Surrender to the Forty-ninth? Never. They’re mo
nsters and can’t be trusted.”
Sebastian brought out his sword and smacked the pommel into Thomas’s skull. The Charger fell to the ground, unconscious.
00:03
There was a commotion outside the door. Most of the people were lying down on the ground, unmoving. Memphis was fighting against unconsciousness. Her mind was a muddle of jagged images and hallucinations. She sagged against the bomb. There were four wires left. Tyler was unconscious on the floor, struggling to breathe. Her lungs were aching.
The noise outside the doors stopped. She barely noticed it. She traced the lead for the fifth time. Her fingers fumbled. Blackness rolled over her eyes, and she collapsed backwards onto the floor.
00:02
The door opened, and cool, fresh air rushed in. Sebastian’s head appeared. Memphis rolled over and reached out for him. He rushed over to her and helped her up. He looked at the timer and gulped.
00:01
“Memphis, it says one. Is that bad?”
“One minute,” she gasped. “Very bad.” He held her as she stared at the number, defeated by the challenge. “Can’t you do that thing with your powers?”
“Not with nuclear energy. It can kill me. The cleaner the energy the better.”
“Does that matter with only one minute left?” She looked at the wires, and then looked at Sebastian. She took a deep breath and placed the blade next to one of the wires. “Kiss me,” she said.
“What?”
“For luck.”
He leaned awkwardly toward her. His eyes skimmed over the mess of wires. “Wait. Why are there so many wires?”
“Booby traps. It’s an impossible puzzle that can’t be beaten.”
“So, one wire is the correct one. It’s carrying the electricity properly.”
“I guess. Where’s my kiss?”
He cleared his mind and tentatively sensed the wiring nightmare. One wire stood out. He went to speak. Memphis grabbed him and pulled him close, pushing her lips onto him. Something warm wrapped around him, enfolding him in ghostly arms. He sensed the power. It blew them across the room, and Sebastian crashed into the wall. Memphis’s hair stood on end. Inside his mind he felt something break. Then the warmth drained away, like a blanket being removed.
