Dark Sentinel: Book one in the Sentinel Series

by Adam Matlow

  Adam Matlow

  Dark Sentinel

  Acknowledgements

  To my wonderful wife and two children, for putting up with all the late nights, and rushed mornings. And to my friends and beta readers, for their help and encouragement, without whom this book might never have been finished.

  Chapter One

  A meteor streaked through the early morning air. Marcus shielded his eyes against a bright flash as the rock burned across the sky. A sonic boom scattered birds from the dead branches of nearby trees, shattering the morning peace. Large chunks of the meteor split from the main body and exploded into smaller fragments raining burning debris over the land below.

  He cursed himself. He’d been outside the settlement for far too long. He should have been back hours ago, while it was dark. Now, in the light of the new day, he would be much easier to spot.

  Marcus slowed as he made his way along the chain link fence that marked the outer boundaries of the settlement. Fifteen feet high and bristling with razor wire, climbing it was not an option. The gap he used to get outside was nearby, he must be close. Thankful for the event happening above him Marcus pushed on. He glanced at the guard post protecting the main entrance. The guards stood motionless, their heads tipped back as they followed the course of the meteor through the sky, oblivious to the lone figure skulking along the fence.

  Clambering along the rusted fence he spotted the damaged section which had been his exit point. Disguised by a few dust-covered bushes it was barely a tear, but it was enough for him to get through. Footprints in the dust on the far side of the fence were evidence someone, probably a guard, had been past here recently.

  He stopped, held his breath and listened. The fence clinked and groaned as it swayed gently in the wind and the meteor roared in the distance as it passed over the horizon. With no sign that whoever had made the footprints were still around he quickly pulled back the damaged section and shoved his way through.

  When on the other side he quickly concealed the damaged section with whatever was at hand and dashed for the safety of the nearest building, concealing himself behind it, out of sight of the sentries. His pulse raced as he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jacket. He needed to put some distance between himself and the outer fence. He wasn’t in the mood for a visit from the Legion.

  The meteor vanished, leaving only a thick trail of smoke in the orange sky above the ruins of the cities below. There was a bright flash, followed some seconds later by a deep rumbling boom which shook the dust from the tin roofs of the settlement.

  New Hope. He hated the name. It had been chosen by the first people to settle this area after stumbling out from the bunkers they had lived in for the better part of a century. The asteroid that caused the devastation a century ago sent people scurrying into underground bunkers. The lucky ones at least. Everyone left on the surface died, along with almost everything else. When dwindling supplies forced people above ground they found a world almost incapable of supporting life. Yet they had little choice and so here they were. Fifty years later and life was still a daily struggle for survival. New Hope indeed.

  More like No Hope. Most of the other settlements formed at that time were graveyards now. They all had equally optimistic names. Not that it did them much good.

  Marcus relaxed as he entered the main square. The Legion hadn’t detected his little excursion. The fact he wasn’t currently surrounded by guards was proof enough. They didn’t take kindly to people outside the city without permission and liked to make examples of those who defied them. Control by fear and violence.

  He missed the good old days when he could come and go as he pleased. The rise of the Legion had taken everyone by surprise. They appeared from nowhere and almost overnight their soldiers were in every major settlement for two hundred miles. Wherever all these well-armed, well-trained soldiers had come from nobody knew. Their leader, a man who called himself Davon, was a virtual recluse and was hardly ever spotted leaving his well-fortified bunker in The Forge.

  Marcus stretched his aching legs. A night of scouring the Badlands areas bathed in swathes of radioactive dust and preyed upon by bandits had turned up nothing for the third night in a row.

  He longed for his bed, but first, he needed to check in with Doc. He headed towards the centre of town, to the workshop where Doc was usually found, tinkering with his gadgets.

  As he dragged himself through town the thick smell of charcoal pits and cooking meats drifted through the air, which served to remind him how hungry he was. The shouts of the townsfolk peddling their wares echoed off the corrugated metal sheets which made up many of the structures here. He located a stall selling food and selected a skewered piece of meat, suspiciously rodent shaped. His stomach turned. His eyes scanned the other stalls, but his options were limited. Relenting he bought two pieces, wrapped one of them up and put it in his pocket. He took the other one and gave it a cautionary sniff. It smelt like dirt. He took a bite. Somehow it tasted worse than he’d imagined, full of gristle and burnt almost beyond recognition.

  He tossed a few coins in the direction of the owner, who gave him a toothless grin and muttered something about being woken up by ‘some bloody great noise’ which could only have been the meteor. People here were used to such events.

  Marcus gazed into the early morning sky. The rings that encircled the Earth glinted with deep hues of brown and gold. They stretched halfway to the moon and rivalled those of even the outer planets and were a remnant of the asteroid collision all those years ago. Light scattered through their various layers and cast intricate shadows on the Earth below. Though beautiful, the debris ring was also deadly, raining down radioactive fragments of the asteroid daily. Luckily most were small, and almost never made it to the ground. Today’s looked a little bigger than most.

  Marcus finished his rodent kebab by the time he reached the warehouse and tossed the wooden skewer into the street. Piles of partially disassembled machinery, spare parts and half-finished inventions were scattered haphazardly around. Metal shelves were choked full of spare parts and lined with bottles of various chemicals, which gave off a pungent smell that made Marcus’s eyes water if he lingered too long.

  He slid open the large double doors and walked into the gloom. Despite the fact it was bright daylight outside, inside it was dim. There were few windows, and most were either covered up or encrusted with so much grime and dust no light penetrated them. It took a few moments for Marcus’s eyes to adjust and he walked into a table. Something metallic clattered to the floor. He cursed under his breath, as he reached to tidy the mess.

  “Don’t worry about that,” came the deep voice of Doc somewhere in the gloom ahead, “I’ve been meaning to move all this junk out of here for days now.” His voice carried the faintest twinge of an accent, revealing his African Heritage. Doc wasn’t his real name, but the nickname he’d acquired. He was regarded as eccentric by most people, yet his skills as a mechanic and inventor were always in demand. Even if he was responsible for the odd explosion now and again.

  There was a click, and a light hanging from the ceiling came on. Doc was standing a few feet away from Marcus, fiddling with a small silver object about the size of a coin. No doubt part of some invention or experiment. Despite being in his sixties, he was surprisingly light on his feet, and Marcus flinched at his sudden appearance.

  After a few seconds Doc lost interest in whatever he was holding and put it into one of his pockets on his well-worn lab coat. He pushed his glasses onto his bald head and rubbed his eyes. One of his eyebrows was missing and there was a faint odour` of burnt hair, but he didn’t seem to care. Marcus wondered if he even real
ised.

  “You know, you should probably think about cleaning those windows some time,” said Marcus. “Let some real light in here”

  Doc grinned - it was not the first time Marcus had berated him over the condition of the warehouse.

  “When was the last time you went outside?” asked Marcus.

  “I’m far, far too busy for that my boy,” he beamed. “Besides, why do I need to go out when I have you to bring me everything I need? Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you managed to…”

  Marcus reached into his pocket and took out the food he’d picked up earlier and tossed it to Doc, who caught it and carefully unwrapped it.

  “Is this the best you could do?” said Doc. A frown crossed his face as he picked through the offering. “And I was in such a good mood as well.”

  “Slim pickings out there I’m afraid, and it’s only going to get worse come winter.”

  Doc sighed and shook his head. “Any luck last night?” he said, as seated himself at a nearby desk.

  “No, nothing. No trace, just like the others.”

  “Must be the third one this week now?”

  “Fourth, counting last nights. As usual, nobody saw or heard anything, and I still can’t find any pattern to these disappearances. It’s just… random. I mean, I know we live in the middle of a radioactive wasteland, but still? Four in one week?”

  “Whoever is behind these disappearances is certainly becoming more brazen. They don’t seem to care how obvious they have become,” said Doc. “Thanks for continuing to look into this for me. I know people around town appreciate someone doing something. People are too afraid of the Legion to pursue it themselves.”

  “Well someone’s got to do something,” huffed Marcus. “I don’t fancy being the next one to vanish.” He had made it known about town if anyone was to go missing they should tell him at once. The sooner he was notified the greater the chances of him finding something that may help explain all this.

  “I thought I might find something this time,” said Marcus. “I the guy had only been missing a few hours, but still, nothing. He was last seen near the city limits, so I thought maybe some of the drifters that live out in the Badlands might have something to do with it, or at least know something, but...”

  Doc nodded along with Marcus. “I heard some people approached the Legion and asked them to do something about it. They made plenty of promises but I doubt anything will come of it.”

  “Hah,” Marcus grunted. The Legion’s only purpose seemed to be to enforce the rules and showed little interest in solving crimes, or investigating missing person cases. For all he knew they were behind the disappearances themselves.

  Marcus walked over to the desk Doc was sitting at, pulled up a chair and sat down. He swung his boots onto the table and dried mud from his boots scattered across the table. Doc tutted and brushed the mud away and continued to eat.

  “Everything that happens, happens for a reason,” said Doc. “There will be a connection, a pattern you just have to keep at it. If anyone can get to the bottom of this mystery it’s you.”

  “I appreciate the confidence Doc, but I’m striking out here,” said Marcus. He leant back in his chair and closed his eyes.

  “Don’t give up,” replied Doc. “You’ll get to the bottom of all this, that’s why I asked you to look into it in the first place.”

  Doc finished his food, screwed up the greasy paper and threw it over his shoulder. It hit an empty wastebasket behind him and bounced off. Several other balled up pieces of paper lay on the floor around it.

  “I think you’re getting closer,” said Marcus.

  “Bah!” exclaimed Doc with a wave of his hand. His eyes lit up and a grin crept across his face. “Anyway, how would you like to do me a little favour?”

  These little favours tended to be nothing of the sort, but they usually paid well. A quick job done for Doc would be enough to feed him for a week.

  “What do you need Doc?” He tried to sound upbeat, but all he wanted was a good meal and twelve hours solid sleep.

  “I’m sure you’re aware of the atmospheric disturbance this morning?”

  “It was a meteor Doc. You don’t always have to use big words you know. Especially around me. You know I don’t understand most of them anyway.”

  “I’d like some samples to analyse. The magnetometric data I acquired as it passed overhead clearly indicated there was something quite different about this specimen.”

  “Big words again Doc, big words.”

  Doc sighed. “Believe me young man, when I start using ‘big’ words you’ll know about it. Look, all I need is some samples. I want you to drive out there and bring me back some rocks. I assume I can count on you?”

  Marcus was hoping to get a few days rest before going out again, but Doc was clearly excited by this latest event and he didn’t want to let his old friend down.

  “Right now? I really need some sleep Doc,” said Marcus through a yawn.

  Doc ignored Marcus and reached into his lab coat, pulling out a stained map. He pushed Marcus’s feet off the table and laid the map out flat.

  “It came down in this area,” said Doc. He drew a circle with his finger on the map and jabbed at it with a stained finger.

  With great effort, Marcus leant forward to examine the map more closely. The area Doc had indicated was quite remote and prone to bandit raids. He avoided it whenever possible.

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” said Doc, sensing Marcus’s hesitation.

  “Fine.” Marcus let out a deep breath. “I’m going to need a travel permit. There’s no way I can sneak the truck out past the guards. It will have to be under the guise of a delivery or something.”

  “You leave that to me,” said Doc confidently, “I can get you the paperwork. You just get yourself ready.”

  “The only place I’m going is bed. I’ll be back after I’ve got a little shut-eye,” said Marcus, and with that, he marched out of the warehouse, across a dusty roadway and into the rundown campervan he called home. Lap of luxury it wasn’t but he didn’t care. He flopped onto a stained mattress and was asleep within moments.

  ◆◆◆

  After a restless few hours’ sleep, Marcus picked his truck up from Doc’s warehouse. It was a safe place to leave it as Doc would always keep it in good condition. He was a tinkerer and loved to fix things. All Marcus needed to do was drop a few subtle hints about some strange sound he heard from the engine and he knew Doc would dismantle, clean and reassemble almost the entire thing.

  The truck started life as a normal flatbed pickup but had been extensively modified over the years. Doc managed to install an electric motor, as well as an array of batteries, which could supplement the engine. Fuel here was hard to come by and expensive, so solar power was the preferred way to power vehicles. Doc built up quite a lucrative business converting old cars and trucks to use the power of the sun and his services were always in demand. Despite the reliance on solar power, the truck could still use its original engine in case of emergency. Marcus always kept a can of fuel on board, just in case.

  The sun had sunk into the horizon before Doc called him back to the warehouse to give him his pass, which allowed him to get past the Legion’s guards at the city limits.

  “I’ve managed to get you a travel permit to Jericho,” said Doc as he waved a sheet of paper at him. “You’ll be delivering some equipment there, but you will accidentally get lost and end up at the impact site. Well, that’s your cover if you get stopped anyway.”

  “Jericho is not exactly in the same direction as the impact zone,” said Marcus, “in fact, it’s fifty miles in the opposite direction.”

  “Have you ever been to Jericho?” asked Doc.

  “No,” replied Marcus as he rubbed the side of his head. It throbbed from straining his eyes in the dim light.

  “Uh huh,” mumbled Doc, “Well, that’s the closest major settlement. Anywhere else would look suspicious, and I don’t relish bei
ng under the scrutiny of the Legion.”

  “Fair point. Anything else I should know before I get going?”

  “I’ve fixed the high gain antenna on the truck, so you should be able to keep in contact with me for at least part of the way. Try not to break it this time, will you? There are a couple of radiation zones you should probably try to avoid as well. I’ve marked them on the map for you. Oh, and take this,” said Doc as he handed Marcus a Geiger counter, for measuring radiation. “Try not to lose this one. There’s no way of knowing how irradiated the samples may be, so it’s best to be on the safe side. Just remember, if the needle goes into the red, that’s bad.”

  “I know how to work these things you know.”

  People didn’t survive long in this world if they didn’t know how to stay away from the irradiated zones. Nobody went outside without taking a Geiger counter with them.

  “Be safe out there,” said Doc as he helped Marcus load the last of his supplies into the truck. “And bring her back in one piece. I’ve spent all week getting her running again.”

  The last time Marcus had taken the truck out she’d sustained some significant damage whilst avoiding the Legion, which Doc spent considerable time fixing. Smuggling contraband to some of the outlying settlements was profitable but risky. Doc rubbed his hands over the bonnet of the truck, proud of his handiwork.

  Marcus climbed aboard the truck and after a few last-minute checks drove out of the warehouse and into the dusty streets. The curfew would come into effect soon, and the Legion took a dim view of anyone out after hours. It only took him a few minutes to pick his way through to the city limits where he was stopped by the guards operating the checkpoint. The truck was searched and his papers scrutinised before the barriers were lifted and he was allowed on his way. Marcus suspected the papers Doc had given to him were forged, though he had no idea how he was getting his hands on them. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.