Sixth Cycle

by Darren Wearmouth

  She nodded and walked back to the team standing around their vehicles. A thin-faced old man in a smart brown uniform, flanked by two armed guards in dark gray fatigues, strode up the street.

  Trader leaned toward Jake. “Herbie runs Kappa. He’s got a short fuse, so let me do the talking.”

  “Bit of a running theme with the leaders.”

  “Do you expect wet politicians? Get with the times, Jake. Don’t say anything to anyone about the western bunker until we visit your ship at Epsilon.”

  Herbie stopped three yards short of them and peered above his black-rimmed glasses at Jake. “When did you take Lenin out of his tomb?”

  “Yesterday morning. I picked him up from Omega.”

  “What have you got for me, Trader?”

  “I’ve come here to check on clock and stock.”

  “It hasn’t changed from your last visit. We’re still at capacity. If you don’t support me at the next general meeting, you can forget your men being serviced in our cafeteria.”

  “It’s not just my decision, Herbie, you know that.”

  Herbie scowled. “Don’t take me for a fool. Get me my five hundred increase or dine in Finch’s soup kitchen.”

  “Things are going to change. You can trust me on that.”

  “Change the record. We’re seeing more wastelanders by the day. I need to protect my people.”

  “I’ve got eight new rifles and five hundred rounds of ammunition for you in the back of my truck. We recovered them from the eastern bunker.”

  Herbie's stern expression softened, and he focused back on Jake. “Is that one of the rifles on your shoulder?”

  “It’s Allied standard 5.56 with an effective range of four hundred meters,” Jake said. “They’re pretty straightforward to use.”

  “What else did you find in there?” Herbie said. Jake paused and waited for Trader to do the talking. “Has the cat got your tongue? Answer me.”

  “Some basic supplies, but we didn’t have room in Trader’s trucks.”

  Herbie glanced between them at Trader’s team waiting outside the cafeteria. “Have your men fed and watered, then come to my house. I’ll brief you on our wireless tech project. Gaining access to that bunker might give us the breakthrough we need.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

  Herbie spun and headed back up the road. Trader turned to his team and indicated toward the blue metal cafeteria door.

  “He’s a prickly character,” Jake said.

  “We caught Herbie in a good mood, but he means well. He’s always looking at ways of advancing what they have.”

  “Which is stunted by the population restrictions and trade. I can see his frustration.”

  “Short term loss for long term gain, Jake. We have to build solid foundations before branching out. It’ll sink into your stasis-fried brain eventually.”

  “I love a good cliché as much as the next man, but I don’t think arbitrary caps are your answer. What happens if a stronghold breaks the rules?”

  “It hasn’t happened yet.”

  “Haven’t we just picked up a passenger who has been involved in Finch’s idiot games?”

  “Our treaty commits the other seven to war against the offender. That tends to keep the status quo. You’ll get it in the end.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got one coming. Maybe you’ll get that in the end?”

  Trader jabbed his finger at Jake’s chest. “You need to keep those dangerous thoughts to yourself.”

  * * *

  Trader’s team, dressed in their brown cargo pants and sweaters, sat on orange plastic chairs around a long rectangular table at the far end of the cafeteria. The tennis-court-sized room filled with the noise of Trader’s team, clanking spoons against bowls as most hungrily devoured the stew served from a steaming hot plate at the opposite side.

  Trader led Jake to a small table in a dark corner and waved Skye over. A young man with greasy brown hair, dressed in filthy khaki trousers and a black shirt, hunched on one of the four chairs around it. He blew on and sipped from a steaming mug of coffee. When Trader approached, he looked up and pulled out a chair.

  “Meet Carlos,” Trader said and sat next to him.

  Carlos extended a scarred dirty hand. “You're Phillips, right?”

  “Call me Jake.”

  “Who are you?” Carlos said to Skye.

  “Skye Reed, from Omega.”

  Carlos glanced at Trader.

  “You can trust her,” Trader said.

  “I don’t feel like trusting anyone at the moment.”

  “You’ve had my mind racing since this morning. What did you find that can’t be said over the airwaves?”

  “It’s bad, boss. I mean, really bad.”

  “Go on.”

  “Have you heard of Sky Man?”

  Skye leaned forward to speak. Trader held out a hand to stop her. “Just tell me exactly what you saw.”

  “Omicron SUVs firing flares to attract wastelanders. They threw out food, luring them north, and shot any who got close. A guy shouted through a megaphone that Sky Man would help defeat the oppressors and give them unlimited supplies.”

  Trader rested an elbow on the table and rubbed his chin. “Interesting …”

  “I knew it,” Skye said. “This matches up with what I heard in the forest and the attack on the outlaws. Any idea who it might be, Trader?”

  “It could be anyone. If they’ve waited ten years to strike again, I’m guessing some planning has gone into this.”

  Sky grabbed Trader’s arm. “He killed my family. I want to be the first to know.”

  “We’re all going to find out soon enough. Don’t let emotions rule your thinking. Making the wrong move at this moment in time could prove fatal.”

  Jake understood Skye’s desire. He had similar feelings burning inside, but Trader was right. Beating an enemy like this required smart planning. At the moment, they were one step behind. They had to find a way to get a step ahead, and visiting the ship in Epsilon might achieve it.

  “Do you know any stronghold down a couple of SUVs?” Carlos said.

  “I only hear if they need a new one. Did you recognize the voice or see any marks on the vehicles?”

  “It was dark and too dangerous to get close.”

  “How far away are we talking?”

  “A hundred miles when I saw them last night. They could be here tomorrow night. You have to put out an all stations call to organize our defenses.”

  “It’s not as simple as that,” Trader said. “Do you mind grabbing some coffees?”

  Carlos sighed and pushed away his chair. “Whatever.”

  He placed his hands in his pockets and headed for the hot plate.

  “I thought wastelanders lacked intelligence and couldn’t be organized?” Jake said.

  “Imagine being in a lion enclosure with a sack of meat,” Trader said. “You can feed the lion for a while. It might even pretend to be your friend. When you run out of food, or it doesn’t want what you’re offering, it’s over.”

  “The southern ones are more ruthless,” Skye added. “Most don’t even know we exist. I’ve seen what happens when a large group are shown a settlement. It’s not pretty.”

  “Can they be trained to use firearms?” Jake said.

  “Some probably can,” Skye said. “Did they take some from the western bunker?”

  Jake nodded. “Sixty rifles, twenty pistols and ten launchers. Plenty of ammo too. If C3431 is Sky Man, and he’s from one of the strongholds, I think we need to make it an immediate priority to get to Epsilon and find out who he is.”

  “I’m not putting out an all stations call until we’ve established his identity,” Trader said. “If we have a traitor in our ranks, who knows what he might have up his sleeve?”

  “You’re sure he’s from a stronghold?” Jake said.

  “Look at the evidence. Wastelanders are being led north by someone in our SUVs, a bunker close to the stro
nghold is raided for weapons, and what Skye heard in the forest. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  Carlos returned and placed three mugs on the table. “You need to warn people tonight, Trader. Give them time to prepare for what’s coming.”

  “How many wastelanders did you see?” Trader said. “A few hundred?”

  “Thousands. They could pick us off one at a time.”

  Skye puffed her cheeks and sat back. “Do you mind if I go out for some air?”

  “Be my guest,” Trader said. “We’re heading to Epsilon in thirty minutes. I don’t want to be traveling in the dark.”

  She stood and walked out of the building. Jake thought about the prospect of thousands of wastelanders attacking a stronghold at the same time. From the defenses he’d already seen at Epsilon, Omega, Sigma and Kappa, they were spread too thin and would be quickly overwhelmed.

  “We need to pool our resources,” Jake said.

  “What do you mean?” Trader said.

  “Bring the populations of other strongholds behind the walls of Omega. Line the ramparts with a large armed force; otherwise they’ll quickly lose a war of attrition.”

  “They won’t abandon their own places,” Carlos said. “Especially at such short notice.”

  “He’s right,” Trader said. “There’s personal pride at stake.”

  “Pride won’t save their lives,” Jake said. “Sometimes you have to lose something in order to win. Blow the gates of the other strongholds, take out the supplies and carry out a scorched earth policy so they have to attack Omega. We’ll cut them down before they get inside.”

  Trader and Carlos exchanged glances. One of the team rushed through the door and made her way over to the table. “Trader, did you give permission for Skye to take one of our SUVs?”

  “No. Tell the gate not to let her out.”

  “It’s too late for that. She’s already gone.”

  He clenched his fist and thumped the table. “Round up the team. We’re heading out immediately.”

  “Where do you think she’s gone?” Jake said.

  “She’s a lone wolf. I’m guessing to do her own investigations. Let’s just hope it doesn’t lead her to Sky Man. The last thing we need is for him to get an early heads-up that we’re onto him.”

  Jake had another motive for going to Epsilon. He wanted to find out how he came out of stasis. He had a growing feeling that his waking was more than simple fate.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Skye pulled off the main route, half a mile from Omega, and bumped along a disused road through the forest. She wanted to confront Finch on her own terms. If he was looking for her, guards at the front gate would send an immediate message to his mansion. She didn’t believe him to be complicit with Sky Man and his plans, but the stronghold’s safety had to come first.

  She reached a derelict church and parked the stolen SUV around its side. Skye remembered being brought here as a child. People from her settlement and Omega would meet every Sunday morning to exchange food and socialize. It hadn’t been used for ten years and had fallen into a state of disrepair. Paint peeled off the dull white planking, moss covered the roof tiles, and the stained-glass windows were coated in dust. A filthy tattered flag hung limply from the top of a rusty flagpole outside the faded red front doors.

  Skye locked the vehicle door and headed through the forest toward the steps. Trader would be furious about her theft. She hoped he would understand that if Finch was dirty, she wanted to hear it for herself. He took her in and treated her like a daughter. It seemed impossible he could be involved with the very man who killed her parents, but she had to be sure.

  Shafts of late afternoon sunshine radiated through the canopy, highlighting small clusters of midges busily swarming just above the forest floor. Skye maintained a high level of vigilance while she weaved her way between the trunks and headed for the steps. She knew most of the guard on that part of the rampart and could tell them not to report her return, if Ross wasn’t around.

  The dark imposing walls were only two hundred yards away. She decided to approach directly in line of sight of the pillboxes. They might have faced more attacks in the last twenty-four hours, and she didn’t want a nervous guard taking a potshot at her.

  One of the guards on the rampart acknowledged her with a wave. Skye breathed a sigh of relief and jogged to the steps. Sam Bennett appeared from the left pillbox. He nodded at her but didn’t smile as she climbed to meet him.

  “You look like death warmed up,” he said. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Long story. I need you to do something for me immediately.”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  “Destroy the outer steps. Use whatever you can.”

  Sam glanced down and gave Skye a confused look. “Have you fallen on your head? What’s going on?”

  “Thousands of wastelanders are heading north. Trader’s scout confirmed it this afternoon. We need to destroy our weak point.”

  “Thousands? Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Yesterday’s gonna seem like a picnic compared to what might arrive tomorrow.”

  “You know I can’t do it without permission. Ross will tear me a new ass.”

  Skye considered that Ross, being a coward, would do anything to save his own ass before he went after anyone else's. Ross had witnessed Sky Man’s ruthlessness first hand, and when he found out the same might happen to Omega, with no place to run, he wouldn’t argue about destroying the easiest way into the stronghold for an attacking force.

  “Just find a way, Sam. Let me take care of him.”

  He looked in either direction and stepped closer. “We could both lose our tags for this.”

  “We could both lose our lives if you don’t. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes … I do … but—”

  “But nothing, Sam. I’m going to see Finch. Whatever happens, this needs to be done.”

  “I can’t get my head around it. How did thousands get together and know to come here?”

  “I don’t have time to explain everything. Where’s Ross?”

  “The governor’s manor. Finch ordered him up this morning.”

  “Good. Things need to change around here, regardless of what I find out in the next twenty minutes.”

  He paused for a moment and nodded to himself. “Good luck. I’ll do what I can here.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” Skye said. “Hopefully I won’t need luck, but Finch has some questions to answer.”

  She turned and ran down the inner steps. Sam called her back, no doubt wanting to find out more, but her friend would have to wait.

  * * *

  Skye pushed open the wrought-iron gates at the front of the governor’s mansion. She couldn’t think of a diplomatic way to confront the man who acted like a father for ten years.

  The front doors opened. Ross walked out and put on his cap. He looked at Skye, grimaced and strode toward her. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Finding out that we’re in serious trouble.”

  “We’re not in serious trouble. You’re in serious trouble. Finch is furious. He told me about having to bail you out in Zeta.”

  Skye wondered if this man ever had a single thought that didn’t involve his own self-interest. “We’ve never seen eye to eye. I have always doubted you, Ross, but I’m going to have to trust you for this to work.”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “I’ve just ordered Sam Bennett to destroy the steps in front of the barracks.”

  He moved closer and his belly brushed against Skye’s jacket. “You did what?”

  His breath stank of a mixture of cigar smoke and alcohol. The rewards for being Finch’s unquestioning stooge.

  “Thousands of wastelanders are heading right here. We don’t want to give them an easy way in.”

  “You can’t expect me to believe that. If they’ve gone ahead and done it, Finch’ll take your tags for sure. Even you won’t get a pass for an action like
that.”

  “They’ll overrun us if we don’t do it. You don’t have anywhere to run this time. You can deny what happened ten years ago to Finch, but you can’t to me. I know the truth, and you need to face up to it. Sky Man is coming.”

  Ross shook his head and sneered. “You’ve lost it this time. Do you know how insane you sound?”

  “Would you accuse Trader of lying? Because that’s what you’re gonna have to do if you don’t listen to me.”

  “Why didn’t you radio ahead and speak to Finch? We’ve been trying to contact you for hours.”

  “I turned it off, and he can’t know about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “He might be involved. I know somewhere inside of you is a man who wants to protect his people. It’s time you be the hero that Omega thinks you are.”

  Ross gently gripped Skye’s arm and led her to the side of the mansion. “Do you have any proof to your allegations?”

  “Nothing solid, but he’s linked to a man who sent me to the outlaws’ camp. Wastelanders attacked in force after I arrived. Would you call that a coincidence?”

  He looked down and palmed his forehead. “It can’t be true. Can it?”

  “Something tells me that you’re having doubts about Finch. Seriously, Ross, this isn’t time for playing games. Our survival’s at stake, along with everybody else in Omega. He might have nothing to do with it, but we need peace of mind and to prepare our defenses.”

  “He was acting weird just now. Distracted. More than just the usual butterfly stuff.”

  “Come with me. You need to hear this too, because if he’s involved, we’re taking command.”

  Ross shook his head and paced around the gravel path. A smile stretched across his face. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Do you find this amusing?” Skye said.

  “No, I’m not the one taking the risk.”

  “It’s worth the risk. Not confronting him would be far more dangerous.”

  Seeing the hemp fields in Zeta as a mature adult, fighting alongside the outlaws, and learning about Epsilon’s role in arming the outlaws drove a wedge in Skye's total acceptance of the stronghold system. The more she thought about it, the deeper her doubts became, but they were nothing compared to the ones she had about Finch.