Matos nodded but said nothing, drinking his bottle in regular sips until it was finished.
“What keeps you going?” she asked.
For a moment there was a look of irritation on his face. Then his features relaxed into consideration. He shrugged. “Hot dogs.”
Avery laughed, but found the sound alien. A chuckle or giggle released like a bubble from the rising fear inside her. They were alone with an army against them. It wasn’t funny.
“Make you breakfast?” he asked.
Without waiting for a reply, he hopped to his feet and began digging into their collected belongings.
There wasn’t much of a choice other than beans and corn. Their supplies were running low since the firefight in Baldwinsville. Matos was forced to leave his pack behind and they hadn’t since found any good supplies. If they searched every house and building, they would find some. But the constant presence of drones and threat of cimices kept them moving.
In the bathroom, Avery washed her hands and face. Cold water trickled out of the tap, dregs left in the plumbing pipes, stagnant for a year and full of bacteria. One drop of it could probably kill more people than a nuclear bomb. She turned off the tap then slicked back her hair with a scoop of gel from the cabinet.
Matos smiled, nodding at her hair then handed her a plate of beans and corn. The room was silent other than clinking spoons and gulping water. Outside, early morning sunlight trickled into the room.
After clearing away the plates, Matos disappeared into the bathroom emerging a moment later with his black hair slicked back.
“Liked the look,” he said.
“Another day in paradise,” she replied.
A smile froze on his face at the distant sound of weapons fire.
She turned for the door but was stopped by a squeeze on her shoulder.
“It’s not our fight,” he said.
Avery shrugged off his hand and collected her rifle and backpack. “There are two sides fighting out there and one of them is ours.”
Matos shook his head but picked up his gear and followed her out of the building. Avery turned right towards the sound of action. Rapid firing in this exposed location would be heard for miles.
She trotted between trees until a service station car park came into view. The contact was concentrated on the building behind the car park. Soldiers dressed in green combat suits were guarding the rear, weapons pointed outwards.
A stationary aircraft had landed on grassland opposite the building. It was a turbine powered, troop carrying shuttle. The same model used in the bunker.
The attacking forces, dressed in familiar bunker blue combats, were hunched down behind a line of vehicles. They were pouring bursts of automatic fire towards the building.
“There must be other survivors,” Avery whispered.
Matos clipped his rifle to his chest. He pulled out two grenades from a string bag dangling over his shoulder. Avery moved to his left, giving cover to an arc on the deployed bunker soldiers. They both closed on the firefight. Keeping low and taking advantage of the fact the bunker soldiers were focused on the building.
Bent over and sprinting, Matos reached the next car and slid into cover. Behind him, Avery covered his movement. She dropped to a knee and aimed her weapon further around the corner. Watching as Matos pulled the grenades safety pins.
The grenades flew in an arc towards the cluster of mine soldiers. Matos dropped into cover and unclipped his M30 from the harness. After two seconds both grenades detonated with their characteristic WHUMPs.
Avery spun out from the building and fired a full magazine towards the bunker soldiers. She crouched to reload. Matos popped up and threw another two grenades.
The ejected magazine bounced on the ground followed by two more explosions. In seconds she was up again and firing. Matos looped around to the right, pouring fire into the remaining bunker soldiers out of Avery’s line of sight. He changed magazines as he ran on toward the shuttle.
The defending soldier’s ceased firing as Matos crossed their line of sight, recognizing his attack was not aimed at them. Avery changed magazines and ran in Matos’ steps covering him as he closed on the aircraft.
The shuttle motors were spooling up to take-off power as he reached the pilots door. He wrenched it open, aiming his rifle directly at the pilots head.
Avery swept her line of sight around the area then onto the shuttle.
The pilot held his hands in the air, Matos made a cutting action across his own throat and the pilot nodded. The high pitched whine of the turbines ceased.
Other than a ringing sound in her ears, it was suddenly quiet.
“Out” Matos said.
The pilot removed his harness, climbed out of the cockpit and stood on the ground. Matos reached forward and pulled a pistol from its housing on the man’s flightsuit.
“Are you from bunker twenty two?” Avery said, to the pilot.
The pilot raised his hands then laced them behind his head. He remained silent with his eyes fixed on a place above her head.
“She asked if you’re from bunker twenty two,” Matos said, jabbing him with every word.
He continued to stare into the distance. Matos took two steps forward and punched the prisoner in the stomach. He grunted and doubled over. Matos struck again with an uppercut, dropping him into a heap.
The pilot coughed then spat blood and teeth onto the ground.
Behind her, orders being shouted from inside the building. Moments later, green clad figures began emerging in an ordered formation to provide all round defense. She tapped Matos then nodded towards the small group of soldiers slowly approaching them.
At their head was a man with no rank on his uniform. He wore no helmet and his rifle was strapped tight to his chest. He walked with a slight stoop, watching her with a mixture of awe and fear. His green eyes darted between her and Matos.
Behind him, came two lines of unkempt, greasy soldiers, some wore heavy beards. Bizarrely they were all wore sunglasses. They were like a group of cave dwelling hippies dressed in modern combat gear. As they stared spellbound at her, Avery was unsure they would understand English.
“Hello,” she said.
Matos moved to her side and the leading man slowed to a stop. The soldiers fanned out around him.
“You’re both from the bunker?” the man asked.
Avery paused before replying. Despite the fact this man was clearly fighting bunker command. She knew nothing in this world was ever straightforward. “We can’t talk here. They’ll be back with reinforcements.”
Matos pulled up the groaning pilot then shoved him towards the aircraft. The pilot stumbled and fell before he reached the cockpit door.
“Into the shuttle,” Avery said, motioning towards the lead man.
Their leader paused then looked at the shuttle. He repeated the order, his eyes fixed on hers. His soldiers ran obediently towards the side opening. With practiced efficiency, the strange group filed into the aircraft. They were definitely soldiers.
Matos was still dragging the pilot to the cockpit door.
“He’s not capable of flying,” Avery said.
“Don’t need him to fly, need him to tell me where it’s tracking beacon is,” Matos replied, slapping the semi conscious man.
“Cockpit,” the pilot moaned. He pointed with a shaky hand then vomited.
Matos grabbed a thick tuft of hair and forced him into the aircraft. The pilot wiped his mouth, eyes rolling. Avery ran around the shuttle and climbed into the co-pilot seat.
The aircraft controls flashed when the pilot pressed a button next to the centre console stick. He slowly pulled out a knife, holding up his other hand. Matos nodded agreement. The knife wobbled in the pilot’s hand, hovering above a control panel. He regained a degree of control then jabbed it down into a junction line of the plating. Levering up a panel and exposing bunches of cables in thick strands.
He selected a group of cables, pulling them taut and cutting with his
knife. The cables frayed and split exposing bare wires that curled over once free. He pulled on the wires and a small black box broke free of the console. He threw the box out on the ground and pushed the control panel back into place.
The pilot mumbled something to Matos.
“What did he say?”
“Disabling the tracking beacon can’t be done in this way without screwing up some of the other avionics. We’re flying blind.”
He frog marched the pilot towards the shuttle side entrance. Pulling open the door and shoving him towards the steps. The pilot sprawled on the deck in front of soldiers he had just tried to kill.
“Look after him,” Matos growled.
Avery turned to the bizarre soldiers, noting they all sat quietly, buckled into position. The pilot struggled into a seat on the end. He buckled up without making eye contact with the group.
External fan motors whined as the aircraft lifted smoothly upwards into a hover. The shuttle juddered then began moving forwards.
“Head south,” Avery said.
Matos turned the craft, increasing the throttle until they were moving forward and away from the service station.
“Who are they?” she said, gesturing behind her.
“Probably hid in the city and scavenged in the barracks.”
“I knew it. There are survivors.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. You can see what happens when they’re caught.”
“They could be Ghosts.”
Matos almost smiled for a moment, flicking his eyes towards her. “They’re not Ghosts.”
She stared out at the landscape as they flew. This part of the country had been sparsely populated so damage was limited. Fields of grass, thickets of trees and finger shaped lakes, a landscape only dotted with buildings. There was hope if they could find others like the group in the back.
Avery guided Matos to land the shuttle in a forest clearing. It would offer protection from ground surveillance but not a flying Bloodhound. But if they flew in any other direction there was no way of knowing what waited for them.
The ground was steeper than expected and Matos made an aborted attempt to land. There was an ironic cheer from the back and Avery smiled. Matos clenched his jaw and her smile grew wider.
Once down, Matos switched the off the controls. “There should be a camouflage net in the rear.”
Avery climbed out, opening the side door for the strange group. They filed past her without making eye contact and spread into the woodland. The pilot produced a cam net from the cargo hold. He looked around for help then gulped as Matos picked up the other end.
Once the cam net was fixed in position, the pilot headed towards the trees. Matos pulled him back and dragged him to the cargo deck. He tied his arms and hands then looped the rope to the chassis. The pilot squirmed on the floor like a caterpillar but made no comment.
In the woodland, Avery was surprised to find a camp of sorts had been laid out. Sentries were posted, a sleeping area cleared and a small fire lit. A large pan of water hung above the flames.
The leader was sat on his pack next to a red haired soldier. The red headed man was pale as snow, a bandage strapped to the side of his face. They both looked up as she approached.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Logan,” he replied.
The man was solemn and quietly spoken. Clean shaven with deep green eyes below a mess of brown hair. He had a weary look on his face, like he was exhausted or had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Matos stalked towards Logan, looking him up and down. He continued around the group. They all stopped what they were doing and watched him. His face impassive on the inspection, Matos inspected their faces, equipment and weapons.
“You’re not a soldier,” he said, pointing at Logan. “The rest are. Yet they follow you as leader. I believe you’ve all been underground for an extended period. But not in a city.”
Logan massaged his forehead, staring at Matos. “I believe you’re called Matos and this is Major Avery?”
Avery slipped in front of Matos as his feet parted and shoulders hunched. “How do you know our names?”
“The group who attacked us were after you.”
Avery exchanged a knowing look with Matos. His eyes narrowed then he stalked away towards the aircraft. Logan blew a breath out as he left. Matos hadn’t questioned him too forcefully, the pilot might not be so lucky.
“Where are all the survivors?” Logan asked.
Avery looked around again at these strange people. Like amiable hobbits caught in an impossible war.
“There’s only one way you wouldn’t know.”
Logan furrowed his brow, eyes flicking across to a Sergeant. “We’ve been hiding.”
“For nearly two years?”
“We survived.”
Chapter 26
Logan watched Avery walk between the trees back to the aircraft. Hoping he had said enough to gain her trust. From the moment he had seen Avery and Matos, he knew they could help them. The pair appeared unearthly. Tall and athletic with slicked back black hair and flawless skin. They were the perfect specimens of male and female human beings.
Avery was friendly but Matos lacked any warmth. He couldn’t explain the feeling to himself. For that reason, Logan had been reluctant to open up fully in front of them.
In the aircraft, Ortiz told him about Major Avery. She was his commanding officer and he feared she would call them deserters. Avery hadn’t recognised them so far, the soldiers were thinner, wore beards and sunglasses.
The pair returned and Ortiz handed them ration packs of spaghetti bolognaise. Their supplies were running low, but now they had an aircraft, perhaps the task would become easier.
Matos ate in silence looking relaxed. It was apparent in his body language that he was fully alert. Straight back, legs ready to launch him up, weapon close to his hand. Avery sat close to Logan. Back against a tree and legs splayed out. She thanked them for the food and made a joke about the ration pack. He didn’t understand but there were sniggers from the mine soldiers.
“Why were they after you?” Logan asked.
“I was the Commander of a bunker facility in this area. Now I’m a survivor.”
“I should tell you before we go any further. These men were formerly under your command,” Logan said.
Avery stopped eating and looked around at the men.
“Sergeant Ortiz,” Logan said, gesturing at the man.
“Ortiz,” she exclaimed.
“Yes Sir. Rodgers, Denyer, Hasker, Pettyward, Donne, Moore, Lennox, Ives and Egerton,” Ortiz said, each man waving at mention of their name.
“I can hardly believe it,” Avery said.
“Here in the flesh, but hairier.” Ortiz said.
“Skinnier too. What happened to you? How did you make it?”
“Well,” he said. “We erm, managed to find a safe place with the Engineer,” Ortiz said, pointing at Logan.
“Captain Skillet?”
“No Sir,” he replied.
“What about you,” Matos said, looking at Sean.
“I’m an engineer as well. Not The Engineer but we can’t all have a halo. Don’t worry yourself James Bond.”
Matos chewed his food, staring at Sean. Tension building as Sean winked then carried on eating.
Logan gave a small nudge to Sean’s ribs. “We’re trying to find out what’s happened.”
Avery laid down her ration pack and leaned forward. “From what we understand, major cities were destroyed in a missile attack. There would be chaos without electricity, food or water. Then disease took the rest.”
Her words cowed the gentle hum of conversation into silence. Only the chirrup of birds and wind through the trees disturbed the hush.
Logan tried to form a mental image of that level of destruction. It was unthinkable. “There must be survivors.”
“Perhaps but drone patrols and cimices are keeping anyone alive out of sight.”
&
nbsp; “We’ve met the drones.”
Matos grunted for attention. “What happened?”
Logan ignored his question. “So what does it all mean?”
“A group who call themselves Eximus tipped us into an apocalypse.” Avery replied. “They have bunkers everywhere filled with elite soldiers ready to complete a clear up later this year.”
“Shit,” Sean breathed.
Logan stared at Avery, his mind filled with questions. But he could only shake his head.
“We’ve had our nanos deactivated and likely yours were turned off way before all this started so the Haarp can’t track us,” Avery said.
She paused, staring at him after his sudden twitch. “What is it?”
“Haarp?”
“It controls nanos.”
He tried to maintain his composure but Avery and everyone else seemed to be staring at him. His mind spinning with possibilities, but the name kept repeating in his head.
“I think I know Haarp,” he said.
Matos launched himself up and shouldered his weapon aiming it directly at Logan. The mine soldiers reacted a second later, lining up and standing between them. They began shouting and jostling until Avery forced her way between them. She pushed down Matos’ weapon.
“What do you mean?” She asked.
“I have fourth gen nanos. A Doctor Cain gave me an injection before-” Logan said, noting the exchange between Avery and Matos at the name. “You know her?”
“She was in our bunker and the reason we had to leave.”
Logan nodded. If he was trapped underground with her he might have considered leaving as well. He sat back down on his pack. Matos backed off and the mine soldiers returned to their positions.
“What does this have to do with Haarp?” Matos asked.
Logan glanced at Sean then Ortiz. He knew they would back whatever he said. If there was to be any trust between them he needed to be honest.
“When I came back to the surface I fell into a kind of trance.” He tried to form the correct words, shrugged and carried on. “In my mind I connected to something. It spoke to me and said ‘Haarp.”
Matos was leaning forward, his eyes trying to pull out information. Avery sat with a friendly demeanor, relaxed and open. Good cop bad cop. “It’s called the High frequency Active Auroral Research Program or Haarp.”
Eximus Page 26
