From Oblivion's Ashes

by Nyman, Michael E. A.

  “I don’t have any secrets,” Angie admitted. “I’m just a good sneak.”

  “Maybe you should keep that to yourself,” James suggested, holding out a hand to help her step around the tree trunk. “Then you could have a secret.”

  Angie watched his face to see if he was joking.

  “Here it is,” he said after a few more steps along the new branch.

  To Angie’s surprise, a tall, metal-paneled wall rose up right alongside the branch they stood upon, extending as much as fifteen feet above their heads and at least five feet below their feet. She looked down and saw that they were still very high above the ground.

  With a firm grip, James reached out and hooked his fingers into a crack between two of the panels and pulled. The panel swung open, revealing a dark empty space behind it.

  “Street people know all the best places to hide,” he explained, stepping back so that she could peer inside. “When I first came to the city, I lived on the street with a few others from my tribe. Bad business. There was a lot of alcoholism and the concrete was very hard and cold. I got to know my way around though, and later, when I got my feet under me and got a home and a job, I’d come back and visit some of my old friends. I don’t know who found this place, but it’s been pretty good to us since the outbreak. Go ahead and go inside.”

  Tentative and keeping a firm grip on the rope, Angie stepped across the gap and into the space beyond the panel. From the faint light of the opening, she could see that the concrete floors were ribbed with dark, steel girders, metallic walls and ceiling. She took a few uncertain steps forward and found herself in a small hallway.

  Faint voices came from the darkness ahead.

  James followed her inside, closing the panel behind him.

  “Luca knows how to get in,” he said, “so we won’t leave the panel open. Let’s get you introduced to everybody. It was just Luca and me keeping lookout, so Marshal and your other friends don’t know you’re here. He’s been hiding out in this place ever since we rescued him.”

  “Really?” Angie frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Marshal.”

  “It took him less than half a day to rip open one of our wall panels,” James continued, heading off down the short hall. “There are these solar panels, see. The city put them up to power the digital signs over the expressway to tell drivers if they’re in a traffic jam or not. That never made sense to me. Someone who is driving would already know if they’re in a traffic jam, wouldn’t they? Anyway. Marshal found the power lines, ripped them out of the wall, and now we have electricity. Seven weeks in the dark and now we have electric lights and stoves, and Marshal has his computer working again.”

  “That sounds like Marshal,” Angie said, nodding to herself as they rounded a corner. “Oh. Wow.”

  The amount of space was surprising, though barren, mostly concrete, and poorly lit. The ground felt angled, as to allow water run-off, and the ceilings topped out at six feet high. Scattered groups of silhouettes indicated that the room had about twenty to thirty occupants, mostly clustered around flickering light sources.

  “It’s much better in here, now that there’s light and heat,” James whispered. “Marshal used some parts I was able to scavenge to create several outlets, though it’s all short term. We won’t be able to stay here through the winter, and even now, it’s pretty bad, especially when it rains. This place is the enclosed underside of the Summerside Bridge. Don’t know why they built it. Marshal said it had something to do with the topography of the land and the water run-off. All I know is that it’s a good place to hide from zombies.”

  They passed a group of people that were huddled around a small laptop that was playing an episode of Law and Order. Some were sleeping, while others watched the screen with disinterested eyes. One or two looked up at her curiously as she and James passed, but otherwise remained silent.

  Angie shuddered. They looked like they were sick and starving. She saw a number of children in the group, many of whom gazed at her with an inscrutable expression. A small girl was curled up and looked to be asleep, her face hidden in the folds of her mother’s coat.

  “It’s bad here,” she murmured.

  James glanced at her, his face a mere shadow in the dark.

  “These are the lucky ones,” he said, sounding surprised.

  They approached a lit table at the far end of the room, and she saw Marshal with two other residents, a man and a woman. Jerome stood with Cesar nearby. Both leaned against a wall, listening to the conversation attentively.

  “… need to get some order of clearance,” Marshal was saying, pointing to a map on the table. “It’s all there for us, but we need to - Oh. Hey, James. Have you seen…”

  He paused, squinting against the dark as he tried to make out the new arrival.

  “Angie?” Marshal rubbed his eyes, and looked again. “Holy crap! Angie, is that you?”

  “Angie?” Cesar repeated, straightening up.

  “Unbelievable,” Jerome exclaimed.

  Angie was so happy, she thought she would burst. It was Marshal. Dirty, dishevelled and haggard, but it was Marshal. All her fears, all her worries and despair and hopes and nightmares, all of it found release at once, and she felt tears flooding her eyes. Up until that moment, she’d held it all in, not prepared to believe until she had rested her gaze upon Marshal himself. Even with Uncle Luca telling her it was true, she had needed to see Marshal with her own eyes.

  “Oh my god,” he said, and he came scrambling around the table as fast as he could. “I can’t believe you’re here! Are you okay? Is everything all right?”

  Yes, she thought, hugging him as hard as she could as soon as he came close. Everything was all right again.

  “I came to rescue you,” she said, trying to keep her voice from quivering. “You and Uncle Luca. Everyone else thinks that you’re dead. They wouldn’t send Crapmobile to come and find you. But I knew you weren’t dead. Oh, Marshal…”

  A lump seized her throat. She swallowed painfully, as she continued to squeeze him.

  “… I’m so glad I found you.”

  “I’m glad too, sweetheart,” Marshal said in a soothing voice, holding her to his chest. “It’s so good to see you. Does Luca know you’re here?”

  “Yes,” Angie answered, and then, remembering, she leaned back and wiped her eyes, looking up at Marshal abashedly. “I, um… I kind of accidentally stabbed him in the arm.”

  “You… you did what?” Marshal said, looking startled.

  Jerome and Cesar burst into laughter.

  “I stabbed him,” she repeated, and her face suddenly felt hot. “I was running and he grabbed me and… and it was an accident!”

  She shouted the last part at Cesar and Jerome.

  “Is he okay?” Marshal asked, looking over at James.

  “It was a clean cut,” James answered with a shrug. “Nothing was severed and Luca didn’t look like he was in that much pain. He had some trouble climbing up the tree, but that was all.”

  “It was an accident,” Angie repeated.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Cesar said, apologetic.

  “Stabbed by a little girl,” Jerome said.

  “Accidentally,” Cesar said, glaring sternly at Jerome.

  “Yeah, but… stabbed by a little girl,” Jerome said again.

  “I know, but look at her. She feels bad.”

  “Sorry, sorry. You’re right.” Jerome pulled himself together. “Sorry, Angie. You shouldn’t feel bad. It ain’t your fault. Luca is just a stab-able kind of guy.”

  “He is!” Cesar said. “I frankly been meaning to stab him myself.”

  “You guys are jerks,” Angie said, trying not to laugh.

  “Don’t listen to those two losers, Ang.”

  Angie turned and saw that Luca was ambling up through the dim light.

  “They’re just jealous that you’re now officially a member of the ass kickers club,” he told her, “steada the pansy-ass, wimp club, like them. I
couldn’t have been more proud if you were my own daughter! And don’t you feel embarrassed! Next time some asshole makes a grab for you, you just go ahead and stab’em in the-”

  “I think I’d still prefer it,” Marshal broke in stiffly, “if she made sure she was stabbing an enemy first. You know? It’s just that there’s less blood to mop up that way.”

  “Oh. Yeah, sure Marshal,” Luca said, then pantomimed stabbing someone to Angie when Marshal turned away.

  When Marshal turned back, his attention was on Angie.

  “I see you have your helmet-cam with you,” he said. “Do you still have a connection back to our own network?”

  Angie shook her head. “Lost it once I got north of Davisville.”

  “I might have guessed,” Marshal sighed, gently removing it from her head. “Still. It’s got some parts that I desperately need. When Shitbox got attacked, Jerome was the only person who thought to grab a drone. Of course, without power or the on-board computer, it wasn’t much used to us. But now that we have a source of electricity, the parts from your helmet-cam, and one of the tablets, you can help us get it working again.”

  He cocked his head at her curiously. “How are things at home?”

  Angie shrugged. “Pretty good, I guess. It’s gotten a bit crowded. They found a few more people downtown. Food, water, and supplies are becoming a problem.”

  “That makes sense,” Marshal said, looking troubled. “We left things in a bad enough state when we took Shitbox. It makes our need for those other Tesla engines greater than ever. How’s, uh… how’s Valerie holding up?”

  “She’s pretty stressed,” Angie remembered. “Kumar helps as much as he can, but people are getting annoyed. She really wants you back, Marshal.”

  A hint of mischief crept into her voice.

  “I think she likes you.”

  “Har, har, har,” Luca said.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Marshal said, shutting his eyes in anticipation.

  “And what’s not to like?” Jerome chimed in, grinning. “Healthy, young, white boy with a good job. Fine breeding stock.”

  “Owns his own car,” Cesar pointed out.

  “Dude, what are you waitin’ for?” Jerome asked. “Other than Krissy, she’s the hottest woman in the wasteland. You gotta do the right thing and get some while you can. For all of us.”

  “Just shut up! All of you!”

  “Think of it as a public service, Marshal,” Luca said. “What with all the overcrowding, you’d be freeing up an extra bed.”

  “Very noble,” Cesar laughed.

  “Are you assholes finished?”

  “Naw,” Luca said, laughing as he spoke. “I’m pretty fucking sure we’re just getting started.”

  Marshal glanced apologetically at the man and woman who’d been leaning over the table with him. “Sorry, Grace. Phil. Apparently, I’m in charge of a band of five year olds. James? I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to put up with this either.”

  “I don’t understand,” James said, looking surprised. “I just met you, but I agree with Jerome. You would make a fine husband, and this Valerie person could do worse.”

  Everyone except Marshal laughed.

  “Look,” Marshal said. “You’re all wrong, okay? Valerie and I have a working relationship. Categorical. Now, can we move on to more important matters than my lack of a love life? Say, for example, the salvation of the human race?”

  Angie rolled her eyes.

  “To be continued,” Luca said grudgingly, letting the issue slide.

  “Good,” Marshal said. “Now, as I was saying, our situation has just improved exponentially. With these parts, and more importantly, with Angie herself here to help us, we have fresh hope. Our mission is the same, just expanded. James. How long do you think it would take to get everyone to move to this location?”

  “Safely?” James looked thoughtful. “Two, maybe three days, I guess.”

  “Excellent. That means they’ll all be here by the time we get back. Now that we have power, I can rig drones to provide aerial diversions and clear out areas before we’re ready to move through them. Shitbox is the key. It may not enjoy the invisibility to undead that it does downtown – we can set up future Swarms to educate them down the line – but it does have a fully operational computer center with systems that can monitor drone support. There’s at least five major tech centers in this neighborhood and the Techie Direct distribution warehouse, to say nothing of the toy and hobby shops.”

  “Are you sure you’re going to be able to take all of us?” the woman called Grace asked. She was a short, pixie-like Oriental woman in her mid-thirties. “We’re a big crowd if you get us all together.”

  “If we want to save their lives,” Marshal said, “then we don’t have any choice, do we? But the answer is yes. There’s a number of things that have to go right, and some on-the-job training that will be pivotal to our success. But I have a plan that should make it all possible.”

  Grace and Phil exchanged glances, and then both of them looked at James.

  “We’re losing people,” James said. “Like… at a rate of two or three per day, they way they keep finding us. We gotta get out of here, or we’re all going to die.”

  He turned to Marshal.

  “What do you need us to do?” he asked.

  “All right,” Marshal said, leaning over the map, “First thing, we take our one functional drone and use it to give aerial support to Angie. Angie? Do you still have your garbage dress? No? Well, we’ll help you reconstruct it. Now, I’ll need to link up your headset to my laptop, and get you out in the field. First stop will be the Techie Direct warehouse. We’re going to need some parts if we’re to get Shitbox up and running again. Once we do, we break trail for a major strike on the warehouse’s supply of drones and…”

  Angie’s mind drifted away on a warm sensation of pure happiness. Things were slowly getting back to the way they should be. Marshal was ‘blah, blah, blah-ing’ up plans for the future that would save their lives. Luca was standing around, looking menacing and reassuring at the same time, and Angie was with the people that she’d come to love.

  She’d lost her parents and her home and all the little things that had once made up the life of Angela Camilleri. She’d never even been given the time to grieve. Then, out of the wasteland where she’d once been sure she would die, she’d been lucky enough to find a new family, people who cared for her, loved her, and would risk their lives to protect her.

  They weren’t perfect, but they were hers, and she would face death to keep them. This time, they were not lost. This time, she’d been able to hold them in her arms again.

  It was near perfect darkness on the Techie Direct warehouse floor. Towering metal shelves were like invisible cliffs in the blackness, bracketing the twelve-foot wide aisles in the huge, indoor space. Debris, fallen product, windblown papers and plastic littered the once-polished concrete floors. Distant, smashed out windows were the only sources of illumination in the nebulous nether-darkness.

  Staggering over the uncertain floor and guided more by smell than sight, a zombie searched the cavernous room. Faint, scratching sounds had drawn its interest to this part of the dark, but the uneven footing had made progress slow. It fell over once, tripping over an unexpected pile of windswept trash and landing face-first on the floor with a audible thump. Unconcerned, the creature righted itself, regained its feet, and stepped over the obstruction in its relentless hunt for humans.

  A sound reached its sensitive auditory system and it froze. In the distance, coming closer, the sound grew louder and louder.

  “… all undead,” the noise said, becoming more and more coherent as it whipped overhead. “Here we are. Are you looking for humans? Good news. We’re right here. Come follow…”

  The zombie exploded after the noise like a tiger springing into action. The voice grew quieter and quieter as it departed, though the crashing sounds of pursuit indicated that it had acquired a following of at
least two other undead. The space grew quieter as the action continued into the distance until finally, all was silent and dark.

  A few seconds later, the ‘unexpected pile of trash’ stood up and scanned the surrounding area with night goggles to be sure the zombies were gone.

  “Zombies are stupid,” Angie said.

  “Come on, Angie,” Marshal’s voice said, coming in over her headset communicator. “You know better than that. We only have the one drone at the moment, and without Shitbox, we can’t give you any other kind of support. So no talking out loud. Okay?”

  With a roll of her eyes, Angie pressed a button on her headset.

  Beep.

  “Good girl. All right then, pan left. Give me a good look at those shelves. Okay, move on. Wait. Pan right. Okay, those things. They’re mini-speakers. I’m going to need a few of those.”

  Angie sighed. She reached for the sack at her ankles, which was also decorated to look like trash, and scooped about a dozen of the small packages into it.

  “Great. Now move on to the next aisle. Specifically, I’ll need circuitry, wiring, and a tool kit. Also, we want to find their supply of drones. Find even a couple of those, and then you can head straight back-”

  Beep! Angie interrupted, just as he was starting up another blab-fest. She’d already heard all of this before. Many times.

  “Sorry. I was just – wait! Up ahead. Security cameras. Grab me a few of those while you’re at it. We might need those to get Shitbox up to perfect running order.”

  Beep!

  And with that, Angie went back to shopping.

  Two days passed, and the people gathered.

  Shitbox had been pushed back upright and its cover replaced and redecorated. A rotating shift of multiple drones kept the area clear while the work was done. Upon being rebuilt, the work moved inside the vehicle, where Marshal repaired the damage to the systems and the mechanisms. When not in motion, Shitbox was simply a pile of garbage, and the undead left it alone.