Cry For Tomorrow

by Dianna Hunter

  Long moments later the night air was shattered by the sound of revving engines and hiss of compressed air-jets.

  Jake and I stayed where we were, listening until we could no longer hear the rumble of the chopper engines before daring to come out of hiding. I waited at the end of the alley when Jake returned to the place the biker had fallen and kicked the blistered and blackened body a couple of times to be sure he wasn’t moving.

  “He is most definitely d-e-a-d,” Jake declared.

  “Yeah, I know. What happened to your little friend?” I queried. I knew from past experience that those who mistook Jake’s small wiry form as an easy target usually paid a heavy price for their mistake. I’d discovered my friend’s extra-ordinary strength and ability to teleport items of incredible weight shortly after we’d first met.

  “Oh, I guess you could say he had a little accident,” he laughed. “Like a few concrete blocks landed on his head.”

  I wanted to laugh, but all I could manage was a quiver as a flash of cold fear ran up my spine at the thought of our close call. “Come on, Jake, I really wanna get out of here before anything else happens.” I tugged on his arm, Jake’s telekinetic abilities were formidable, but I didn’t want to test them against a whole pack of bikers—or that reaper, if I could help it.

  When we reached the street we saw that the freaks were already beginning to emerge from the shadows to drag off the bodies of their dead. Jake and I stayed close to the walls of the buildings and as far away as we could as we ducked into the underground parking lot that would give us access to the sub-tunnel we needed to travel to reach the safety of our own home.

  Chapter Three

  With fear dogging our steps and hurrying us along, it didn’t take Jake and me long to reach our destination. At the mouth of the tunnel, I stopped and waited in the shadows while he leaned around the corner to peer into the empty street ahead.

  “It’s clear,” Jake hissed before dodging into the open.

  I could feel cold shivers running up my spine from eyes that weren’t there as we crept from shadow to shadow, always watching our surroundings for any sign of movement as we ran across the street and into the deeper shadow of the building on the opposite side.

  From above, seven rows of shuttered eyes, one for each story, glared down on the street and surrounding buildings. We ignored the boarded front doors of the building and the garage entrance that had been sealed long ago with sheets of steel to discourage vandalism and headed for the tall wooden fence guarding the alleyway between it and the next building. Reaching it first, Jake paused with one hand on the gate latch, signaling me to wait.

  Cutting his eyes both ways, Jake leaned into the boards of the wooden door and pushed it open just enough to allow us to pass before taking a half step back. Giving me a quick, mock bow, he allowed me to precede him. “Your turn to lure the ghosties out,” he laughed softly.

  “Thanks a lot,” I said as I flicked my eyes to the dark crack above the gate and the blinking red light that told me we were being recorded on the tiny security camera hidden there. I took a step through the gateway but had to stop when the dog refused to follow, cringing in fear of the deeper darkness.

  “It’s all right girl, we’re almost home now,” I whispered. Patting Dusty’s neck, I tried to reassure her, but it still took a moment more of sniffing at the dark before the dog decided she could trust me.

  I heard the rattle of the latch as Jake secured the gate behind us before following us through a metal side door that gave access to the parking lot beyond.

  A series of dim security lights were the only source of illumination in the concrete-walled cavern we were moving through, but their light was enough to create an unnerving dance of flickering shadows on the walls and ceilings of the big underground parking lot. To the uninitiated, the area appeared unprotected and abandoned except for the cannibalized hulks of the old gas-powered autos scattered about. But looks could be deceiving.

  Video cameras linked to a security system in the penthouse apartments had been hidden in several of the metal carcasses. Other wrecks concealed traps rigged to spring at the slightest touch. We had also planted explosives under some of the autos that could be detonated remotely from the penthouse or with the small remote devices each of the roommates carried.

  With the ease of practice, Jake led the way between the hulks and dark pillars to an elevator at the center. Taking a moment to cast his eyes into the shadows surrounding us first, he slapped the palm of one hand to the wall. The concussion caused the pressure plate to pop open, exposing a panel of black and red buttons. Jake barely looked down as his fingers danced across the panel, keying in the entry code.

  “Get back,” he said as the grate of gears and the shudder of the elevator doors gave warning of their imminent opening.

  I didn’t need a second warning. Jake and I each slid to opposite sides of the elevator just in time to avoid the pair of phantoms snaking through the open doorway. Flaring the crests surrounding their heads, the serpentines hissed at the intruders before slithering up the walls.

  “Those are new since I left this morning,” I said with a shiver as I stepped into the elevator.

  “Yeah, I saw them earlier when I went out to look for you. I think it’s all the noise this ancient machinery has started making in the last few days that’s drawn them. We’ve really got to get the old man to come down here to grease this damned thing before it gets loud enough to be heard on the next block,” Jake complained.

  “Right, and if you know what’s good for you, you will ask him really nice,” I laughed. The old man Jake was referring to was our one and only neighbor in the building. He’d appeared about six months ago when, much to our surprise and concern, he’d by-passed our security and took over an apartment on the fifth floor. When confronted, he had very curtly informed us that his name was Ben O’Malley, that he could fix anything that man could build, and that he was now the new building super. He further informed us that we were not to bother him unless it was a matter of life or death. He’d also repaired the defects in our security system.

  We weren’t real happy about his presence at first, but when he proved to be useful in maintaining the ancient building, we began leaving packages of food and clothes we’d scavenged near his door. The packages disappeared without complaint or thanks.

  The elevator jerked to a stop at the top floor of the building and the doors crashed open to let us, and a very frightened spotted dog, out.

  “Hey, where have you two been? We were really beginning to worry,” the girl with the long, brown pony tail said by way of greeting as she bobbed past us. Expertly maneuvering the large box she was carrying through the open doorway to our left, she led the way into one of the two penthouse apartments that filled the top floor.

  “Yeah, I was beginning to worry about me, too,” I told her as I followed. “I made the very big mistake of letting Dear Ole Mom lure me back to her place. But I guess it wasn’t a total waste, because it let me see that my little sister needed help.”

  “Oh wow, is the kid okay?” Jennie turned large brown eyes filled with concern on me. She dropped the box of food packs she was carrying on the edge of a big dining table beside several other similar boxes and wrapped her arms around me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay, and so is Kelly. I took her over to stay with Rosa and Jack and their brood.” I hugged her back before stepping away so that I could remove my pack. I hung it by a strap over one of the coat-hooks lining the foyer walls. As I shed my jacket I paused in front of the row of security monitors and let my eyes wander across the green-tinted screens. When nothing unusual showed, I joined Jennie in the big central room of the apartment

  “How did you ever get across town at this hour?” she queried in concern. “It’s pretty late and I know the buses stopped running a long time ago. And…” she paused to stare at the dog clinging to my side, “where did you find your new friend here?”

  “Well, as you know, th
e bus dropped me at the edge of downtown. I was able to use one of the auto-walks for a space but it only took me as far as Maple Street—from there, I pretty much had to walk. When I cut across the alley near Elm, I found this poor dog hiding in the trash. She was really frightened and she’s very sweet and, well, I couldn’t just leave her there,” I told her. I was still deciding whether I should tell my friends about my encounter with the bikers and reaper.

  “You should have spent the night at Rosa’s where it was safe,” rumbled a deep masculine voice.

  I spun about and smiled up at the young man entering the apartment behind me. Tall, blond and very handsome, Carl was what made my world turn and my heart beat faster. He was also the biggest reason I had risked the streets to come home tonight.

  “Hi, Baby,” I purred as I kissed his chin and snuggled into the big arms holding me. “And yes, I know it was dangerous, but I also knew that everyone would be worrying about me. Besides, if I’d taken the bus, I never would have found my new friend, here.” I stooped to pet the dog.

  “Well, if Mr. Paranoia here would let us use the telephones, you could have just called in and there wouldn’t have been any problem,” complained the tall, dark-skinned teen that had followed Carl into the room.

  “Right Zack, and tomorrow morning, nice and early, there’d be agents swarming all over this place!” growled Carl. “And besides, we all wear our alarms, and I don’t recall Halie or Jake setting off theirs!”

  “Yeah, right,” Jake interrupted scornfully. “Trouble with that plan is that if we’d called for help tonight, we’d just have gotten all of us killed!” His ominous tone immediately had everyone’s attention. “Halie hasn’t told you what else we almost met tonight.”

  “What’s he talking about,” demanded Carl.

  “Why don’t you tell them, Jake.” I pulled the dog to me and buried my face in her soft fur. “I don’t think I can talk about it yet.”

  Scowling, Jake proceeded to tell our roommates about the encounter with the bikers, and most especially about the reaper.

  “Do you think they got that sonic transmitter from the Company?” Zack asked when Jake had finished his story. “It’s bad enough that the bikers have been harassing the poor freaks—what I want to know is why a reaper is running with them.”

  “No idea,” Jake answered with a worried frown, “but I think we all need to be extra careful about our movements for a while—and try to stay off the streets after dark,” he added with a stern look in my direction.

  “Well, it’s getting late and dinner is getting cold, so if someone will lend me a hand and clear off this table, I’ll start toting the food in,” Jennie announced as she headed for the kitchen.

  The mention of food made my stomach rumble hungrily. I had no complaint about getting dinner on the table. I helped Jake gather and remove the clutter from the top of the long table before laying out placemats and eating utensils.

  Dusty snuffled loudly when Jennie carried a large pot of stew past her and set it on a trivet in the center of the table.

  “Smells good, doesn’t it, girl?” I patted the dog’s neck and inhaled, too, before taking an extra plate from the stack at the end of the table. Filling it with some of the stew and a couple fillets of fish, I set it on the floor. I couldn’t help but smile when the dog pounced on the food with the appetite of an animal that had seen little or nothing of a good meal for a while.

  Smiling contentedly, I joined my friends at the table and began filling my own plate. I’d met Jennie during one of my many stays at Rosa and Jack’s place. We were about as far different in appearance as day and night. Built tall and willowy, I had long, wavy auburn hair like my mother and eyes the color of emeralds, while Jennie was short and petite with plain features, mousy-brown hair and large, brown eyes. But I adored her; Jennie’s bright cheerful personality was the perfect counter-point to my own serious, intent persona.

  The boys were already good friends when Jennie and I had met them at another of the gatherings Jack and Rosa had at their place. We’d learned how much we had in common, including the classes Jake and Zack and we were taking at the Community college. Carl didn’t seem to have much interest in academics, but was Zack’s friend and just seemed to always be there. We all just hit it off. We liked and enjoyed each other’s company, and before we knew what was happening, we seemed to be spending most of our time together. Sometimes, we went scavenging through the abandoned buildings of the old city, or we just hung out. Without really knowing exactly when or how it became something special, Carl and I had become lovers.

  I looked across the table at the handsome man lost in conversation with Zack. Despite everything that was wrong in my world, Carl made me want to smile and my heart sang with happiness when he was near. He was so big and strong, and I did like it that he wanted to protect me. Well, not always, my conscience reminded me. Sometimes he was a little overbearing, and I didn’t like that so much. I really wasn’t sure he had the right to be telling me anything, considering what an impractical person he was. Carl was totally paranoid about anything that had to do with the Company, and therefore distrusted anything electronic, fearing that it could be used as a way to track or monitor us. Jack was always joking and teasing him, saying that if things were the way they were before the disaster, that Carl was the sort of guy that would’ve been a star football player and all-around jock. In other words, he had a lot of brawn and not too much brain.

  Jake, on the other hand, was small, wiry and so smart that sometimes I was afraid his head might burst from the pressure of all those heavy thoughts. He was a couple of years younger than the other two boys but his sharp, clever personality made up for his lack of age. And Zack was Carl’s best friend.

  I continued watching my friends as I finished eating my dinner, letting my mind wander back to the first time Jennie and I had come here. We’d been on a scavenging trip, just hunting for whatever might bring us a few extra credits at the market when we’d found our way into the abandoned building. The power was off and we’d had to use our flashlights to make our way up the endless flights of stairs but we were determined to search from floor to floor.

  We were both getting tired by the time we’d reached the sixth floor. There were signs of quake damage in the upper floors of the building and we were going to have to climb around a rather large gap of broken stairs to keep going and still we hadn’t found anything of value. I was ready to give it up but Jennie insisted that, after climbing this far, we might as well go on to the top floor.

  This time our persistence paid off. Evidently we’d been the first to climb all the way to the top, because both of the penthouse apartments we found were intact and still furnished with the best pre-disaster furniture, including plasma-screen televisions and state-of-the-art stereo equipment. But it wasn’t the furnishings, or even the closets of expensive clothes, that excited us—it was what we found on the roof-top.

  The large greenhouse we discovered had only a few broken glass panes and was filled with rows of containerized gardens that were overflowing with volunteer plants, and then there was the pair of enclosed pools, one for swimming and the other still containing enough tilapia fish to re-establish the stock. Realizing that we’d finally found the perfect place for our new home, we’d left everything where it was and hurried off to gather our friends.

  We were all pretty resourceful, and it didn’t take us long to re-establish the power connection and get the stubborn old elevator working again. Of course, Carl’s paranoia had us taking a lot of extra precautions, like securing the doors to the staircases and upper floors with bars and locks, before we could even get to the task of restoring our new home. One of the first, and most firm, of our self-imposed security measures had been to prohibit the use of all electronic communication items such as cell-phones and internet hook-ups for the computers while we were in the apartments. Sometimes, one or the other of the roommates complained about the loss of the convenience of the communication systems, but the
complaints were hollow, for we were each well aware that there was good cause for the restrictions. It was a well known fact among the dwellers that the Company and military were using the cell-phones and internet connections to track and spy on the general population.

  Most times this was only a minor annoyance, but in the last few months the level of interference had been escalating by a serious degree. Warnings came from several sources and the most alarming were those Jack had passed on to us. The rumors spoke of an increased activity and co-operation between the Company and military. The word was that they were pooling their resources to extend a research program that was supposed to change the world. Alerts had gone out into the streets and the depths of the old city, warning the young psis to beware the agents scouring the city, seeking recruits to test this new research.

  “Hey! Halie, pass the bread, please—unless, of course, you were planning on keeping it all to yourself.” Zack was smirking in a way that told me I’d missed his first call.

  “Oh, sorry.” I passed the basket of sliced bread. “Guess I was still thinking about the attack on the freaks.”

  Zack looked up from his plate and cleared his throat. “I know you’re pretty upset and all, and you probably don’t really feel like talking about it, but I sure would like to hear a little more about that sonic-zapper you saw them use to disrupt the freaks’ shield tonight. Did you get a good look at the thing?” Zack was our most talented electronics engineer and the one who missed the internet access, and the information it made so easily available, the most.

  I had to cut my eyes away a moment while I tried to compose myself and collect my confused memories of the attack. “Yes,” I answered finally, “I did get a pretty good look at it. That biker with the orange hair pointed a silver-colored object the size of a television remote at the group of freaks, but there was nothing really unusual about it.”