Cannibal World (Wine of the Gods Book 30)

by Pam Uphoff

  Cannibal World

  Pam Uphoff

  Copyright © 2017 Pamela Uphoff

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN

  978-1-939746-28-3

  This is a work of fiction.

  All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional.

  Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design P.A. McWhorter

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt From An Upcoming Release

  What I'm Reading

  About the Author

  Other Books by Pam Uphoff

  Chapter One

  19 June 2051

  Pittsburg, PA

  There was a ragged line across the sky, not unlike a bank of clouds coming up from the southeast, but blue. A blue sky edged against another blue sky.

  And against the lower blue sky, a horizon of skyscrapers like a forest, vast and unending. And below that the huge vehicles they had started calling dump trucks because of their profile, although the top was entirely closed and hadn't been seen to dump, or indeed, open at all.

  And below the dump trucks, mere tanks, and behind the tanks infantry in black and white plastic armor.

  Whoever they were, and however they'd gotten here, they looked like they intended to stay.

  Ben Goldman lowered his glasses and with his naked eye could see that the Army units that had been rushed here were hopelessly outclassed, and so far, out numbered. He picked up his mike. It was time to start evacuating everyone.

  Probably just an empty gesture. Anyone who hadn't already picked up and left wasn't going to leave because of a polite knock on the door, and he didn't think they had time for that, in any case.

  He leaned back and looked down the enclosed ladder. "Jeff? Put your pretty face on and go talk to the News people. The Army is slow getting here, so as a precaution, we're asking everyone east of the Monongahela and south of the Allegheny to leave right now."

  "Hesus, Ben. The bridges are packed already."

  "Well, suggest they head north or south, whichever is closest, and cross the river in Dyson or Middleplain."

  He spun as something moved in his peripheral vision. A Guardian. One of the elite soldiers of the Army. He wobbled in semi-controlled flight mode, swooping close and grabbing one of the pipes that enclosed his tower.

  She, rather.

  Face plate up, she was pale and sweating. "They have reached the river to the south and are moving on the Parklane Bridge. Evacuate to the north, we will try to hold routes open. And you had better move yourselves."

  "Jeff? Got that?"

  "Yeah, I'm afraid so."

  The guardian let go and dropped toward the ground, grabbing bars as she went, and landing with an ungraceful thump.

  Ben hustled down the ladder and started retracting the tower.

  Glancing over he saw the Newsie with camera aimed at the guardian talking non-stop. ". . . grim scene in the highlands with everyone evacuating to the north as these attackers, whoever they are, have closed off all escape to the south. This is Melody Smithers . . . "

  Ben looked around. No sign of her transport. He reached out and touched her shoulder. "You need a lift?" His glance included the guardian. She was leaning against the truck. A hole in the armor, mid torso, left side. "Do you need a medic?"

  "Full blown hospital, actually. But I'll start with the ride." She stepped into the rear, where there was room to accommodate her gear. The Guardian's armor was cutting edge light and strong, but even folded, the wings took up space.

  The newsie jumped in front with Jeff and they turned north. Once out of their parking lot, they were in traffic.

  Ben turned to immediate concerns. "Can I help you?"

  "No, the suit has stopped the bleeding. At this point, I'm better off not disturbing that."

  "All right. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

  The parked cars weren't helping, and Ben picked up the mic and triggered the bull horn. "All parked cars are confiscated by the Police Department. Any citizens who can get them open and started are authorized to use them to leave the city. Please take all the passengers you can stuff in."

  The faces of the pedestrians looked around in astonishment, and a few started moving toward the parked cars. Ben dialed in headquarters and passed on that recommendation, along with all buses leaving the east side, load up with free riders.

  Melody was recording it all—probably broadcasting it as well—as the parked cars started moving and they shifted forward a few blocks.

  Ben called in more requests for traffic signal preemption and radio announcements, all roads open to the north, no one to travel south, east-west traveling vehicles to turn north at the first intersections, no, you can't go home for your family – families, don't wait for anyone, get out right now. They inched forward, and after an excruciatingly slow five miles, pulled over to take another look.

  The view from the tower showed the monstrous dump trucks even closer, and the tanks frighteningly close.

  A rattle on the outside of his tower was not the guardian he'd expected, but a young man in an odd grayish suit climbing the outside. "Sorry, I need a good view." His head jerked around at an explosive whoosh and he flung up a hand.

  Ben turned toward the whoosh and swore he could see the shell spinning toward him, slowing, slowing . . . and falling out of the air.

  "Well, I think they've noticed you."

  Ben jerked back around toward the young man.

  "I'll try and slow them, so more of your people can escape." He made a slicing motion toward the nearest tank, then scowled. "Unfortunately all my weapons are dangerously close range. I'll see what I can do." He rattled down the outside and Ben hustled on the inside. He hit the switch to lower the tower and suggested they move as soon as possible.

  "Who was that?" Jeff manhandled them over a curb and sidewalk. The traffic was making a steady five miles an hour. At the first cross street, Jeff started cussing, and Ben looked out the small side window to see a tank crunching over cars.

  "Beats me, but right now I'd accept help from a green Martian if it was offered."

  The man in grey darted out and made his slicing motions again. The tank shed tracks, the barrel of its main gun clanged to the ground, and as the hatches popped and men appeared, they disappeared in gory pools.

  One slumped limply, and the grey man ran up and dragged him from the tank, and down the line of cars. "Do you need someone for questioning?" The motorists started shifting as if to run them both down. Ben leaped out and grabbed the limp soldier. The grey man dodged back toward the tank, toward the tank behind it . . .

  "Christ!" Ben heaved the soldier into the back of the truck. "Jeff, I'm going to be out on foot, calling in open and closed roads. Relay them, in case HQ isn't picking me up."

  Jeff's protest was broken off by cursing as something blew up behind the first tank.

  It was another tank, blocking the east west road with flaming debris, but leaving most of the north-south open. Ben followed the grey man up an alley and over another block. "Who are you?" His huffing didn't augur well for a prolonged foot patrol.

  "I'm sort of an explorer, and sort of a dimension cop. Wasn't prepared for anything like this, though."


  "Umm, you keep waving your hands and trashing tanks, and I won't even think about calling you insane, all right?"

  "Works for me." The young man flashed white teeth over his shoulder. "I'm Xen Wolfson."

  "Ben Goldman. We need to keep as many north-south roads open as is possible."

  "Right, until we need to close them to these people." Xen dropped to a walk, headed south. "It looks like they sent these two tanks to cut off the refugees. Why? You think they'd want all the people gone."

  Ben snorted. "High tech slave raid? I really don't think that will work, you know?" He clicked his mic. "J street is clear of hostiles, traffic is moving at about five miles an hour."

  "Yeah. Let's cut west and see if there's more of them out that way."

  K and L were open, M wasn't moving, and Xen ran ahead, and in the intersection, turned right.

  When Ben caught up to him, the 'dimensional cop' was shearing away interlocked fenders of a massive pile up and sending people on their way.

  Ben helped the people out of an immobilized Chevy then Xen pantomimed spreading something over the car. It disappeared. Cars rolled past the site, the first drivers a bit wide-eyed.

  [Other patrols reporting tanks coming down fifth street. I think they've noticed your friend's depredations.] Jeff's voice sounded odd over the receiver in the bone behind his ear.

  Ben looked around. The traffic was clearing, the city was emptying fast. "We've got tanks coming on the next street up." he relayed to Xen.

  Xen bit his lip. "I'd really like to see what's going on behind the lines here, want to come?"

  "Of course he does. And so do we." It was the newswoman, and she was supporting the guardian.

  The wounded woman pulled herself erect. "It's my duty, injured or not."

  Xen eyed her and pulled out a hip flask. "One swallow of this. It's got nano-scale repairers in it."

  The woman hesitated.

  Melody stepped up. "I'll test it." She took a sip. Her eyes widened. "Wow. I feel, I feel . . . wow."

  Xen snorted. "Hot. If it can't find anything else to do it really revs up the reproductive system."

  The guardian took a cautious sip. Xen recaptured the flask. "Let's save some for later, since we're in a war zone."

  The guardian straightened pulled weakly at her armor. Ben found the catch and pulled it open. Pulled it off the metal rod that transfixed her chest.

  Xen clicked his tongue. "Sorry, I should have asked if you had any foreign matter in you." He put a hand against her chest and pulled the rod out. Ben felt a skin crawling sensation as he saw the guardian's flesh ooze to fill the hole and seal it over. "That'll work a lot better. I like the armor, very classy."

  "Not thick enough. " The guardian cleared her throat, and her voice strengthened. "They save on weight, so we can fly better. The ground troops will be doing better, I hope. I'm Guinevere North."

  Ben sighed. "And this is Melody Smithers. Now if we're all insane enough to do this, may I suggest we move?"

  ***

  It wasn't so much a gate as a huge rip in the side of the World, pressed up against a matching gash in the World on the other side.

  It wasn't helping the state of Xen's digestion, at all.

  The monster trucks were for clearing routes that had been closed by debris. He watched them make quick work of a building that had fallen into the street and realized that even bringing down the big towers wasn't going to slow them much. Oddly, they weren't dumping the rubble out of the way. They were taking it back through that big tear.

  "I refuse to believe in Worlds so resource poor that mostly cement rubble is valuable enough to truck home."

  He was up on a building—the other city guard had taken the prisoner away. The lady in the armor, a Guardian, capital G apparent in the pronunciation, Gwen, was beside him. She was almost out of fuel for her fancy flying suit and had climbed with him.

  "Look at the truck beyond that, when the dust settles a bit." She said. "They're loading people into one."

  Xen shifted to large vision and nodded. "Which begs the question, are they just getting them out of the way, being humanitarian type invaders, or do they have something bad in mind? If we had a rather small vehicle, I could probably make it invisible. Then we might be able to sneak over there and find out."

  "Right. One small vehicle coming up."

  She dropped away and glided down to land near the other two. Xen attached his rope and rappelled down, not much slower. He magically released the upper end of the rope and coiled it.

  A quick scan of the street and they spotted a small automobile. Ben had it running quickly, and put down the cloth top. Melody took the other seat, and Xen sat on the back of the auto, his feet behind her seat. Gwen crouched beside him, her back level to avoid lift on her wings.

  Xen wrapped it in a bubble, leaving openings where the wheels touched the ground and sealing around Ben's goggles, Melody's vid cam lens, Gwen's helmet and a wire arrangement around his own eyes. Ben proceeded carefully, obviously spooked by not being able to see the car he was driving. Xen hastily vented the tail pipe as well, and opened a grid of tiny holes across the front grill.

  The first tank sent them skittering to the curb behind another abandoned vehicle, and the tank drove straight past them. From there on Ben had to dodge both tanks and foot soldiers, and the huge trucks. Cutting south they found and followed a truck loaded with people through the rift between the Worlds.

  "Oh shit, we are not on Earth any longer." Ben muttered.

  "Actually you are. This is a parallel Universe, and these people probably call their home Earth as well. Depending on what language they speak. Turn right."

  The truck they were following drove down a ramp and joined a line of trucks waiting to disgorge their cargo. Ben circled the complex and drove the invisible car up onto the green lawn in front of the building. "Can you keep the car invisible? In case we need it?"

  "No Problem." Xen detached their headgear and opened a hole to exit through.

  A light warp got them through the front door, and a quick search found the docks. The processing plant. Some sort of quick medical procedure involving punching into the frontal lobes and not quite killing the people. They followed a male victim as he was picked up by two strong orderlies who held him up against a soldier . . . who melted into the unconscious man . . .

  "They are merging. Your _Worlds_ are merging and they are making sure that _their_ soldiers have the dominant personality when they merge with one of your people. Whatever you do –do not touch one of these people." Xen turned and ran toward where a man was turning away from one victim and approaching another. Pulled a sword out of the bubble at the top of his shoulder and swung. Blood sprayed, the head hit the floor a moment before the body.

  "Get over here, stay together. Touch only your own people, we have to get them out of here, fast." Then he turned to the onrushing soldiers. No touching allowed. Slice, push, stun.

  "More soldiers coming from this direction!" Gwen yelled, behind him.

  Xen narrowed his push spell down to a needle point and hit the more distant soldiers. Turned back to help the others. A soldier grabbed Ben, who shot him.

  No merge. Maybe they already have and it doesn't happen a second time?

  Xen sprinted over, threw up shields as the soldiers raised their rifles. No friendlies over there. Fireballs.

  "Check out the dump trucks. See if you can figure out how to drive them."

  The others ran toward the trucks. A couple of the intended victims snatched guns and followed. Some gunshots from the fronts of the trucks.

  One of the trucks pulled out.

  Xen bolted after it. Caught it before it got up to speed. Grabbed the back, climbed up and over. Stunned the driver, sliced a hole in the window and took over. He got back to the . . . processing plant and turned the controls over to Gwen. "All hand controls. Throttle brake. Go."

  Xen trotted back inside, where a new wave of soldiers was closing in. Much yelling back and
forth. Ben's truck jolted into motion, then Melody with another.

  The frightened people stampeded back into the open rear of the last truck. A volunteer took the controls. Someone organized them into pushing in the gurneys with the injured and unconscious victims. Xen swept a look around.

  "Everyone's out, go!" He jumped for the last truck as it jerked forward, kept moving.

  He pulled out his flask, and handed it past the people who shrank from him to the girl who'd been ordering them around. "Give the injured just a couple of drops of this." Then he climbed to the top of the truck, and prepared to kill any soldiers who came near.

  Then they were careening through darkening streets and out of the shadowy zone. Weaving through tanks and driving down empty roads. The soldiers apparently assumed they were legitimate and didn't try to stop them. Ben must have been communicating with his fellow police—or perhaps the flying lady had called ahead. In any case, they were expected , and allowed past the military barricades. But not very far past, and the soldiers who approached were armed and wary. Xen set down his gun and climbed down to talk to them. Or surrender, or whatever.

  ***

  Ben wondered if he looked as bad as his companions. Between the Guardian's helmet records and Melody's recording, most of the people around the table were nearly as green, even if much more neatly dressed. The Hilton had been taken over first by the police as they abandoned their headquarters, and now the military seemed to be replacing them.

  They had pulled perhaps a thousand people out of the slaughterhouse and the waiting trucks. Three times as many people were unaccounted for. Ben had seen enough soldiers, and the whole processing facility that he rather thought they'd caught them at the very start of their gory harvesting.

  Right now the military analysts were studying the Guardian's long shots of the city on the other side.

  Very, very bloody large city. They'd been high enough initially to look down on hill after hill of high rises. Living or office space, hard to say. Either implied a huge population.