Half Life: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Next Book 6)

by Scott Nicholson

  Growing up in a trailer park in Oldenburg, Indiana, Alexander was always able to tell when winter arrived. That’s when the rats moved into the trailer and could be heard galloping behind the walls in pursuit of the year-round mice. The rats entered and claimed their turf.

  This tumultuous stampede was similar, only involving much larger predators. Both of them listened, since they could do little else, as feet pounded on the concrete and then up the staircase. A distinctly metallic sound resonated through it all, grating and creaking and knocking. Soon the hallway was quiet aside from a soft plopping noise like water from a leaky roof.

  “What the hell was that, Chief?” Sketch asked.

  “Maybe it was our troops, coming to the rescue.”

  “No shooting. The troops would’ve used guns, right?”

  Of course they would. And they would be searching for survivors, shouting their names. Alexander put his ear to the door. All he heard was a faint scratching.

  “Maybe we should look,” Sketch said.

  “I thought you didn’t want to die,” the general snapped.

  “I don’t want to die your way. I don’t mind dying for my beliefs instead of yours. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be stuck down here with a sour old corpse wondering when I should start eating you. Let’s not even go there, if it’s cool with you.”

  Alexander nodded. “It is cool with me.”

  “Better kill the light,” Sketch said, doing so before Alexander realized how exposed they might be in the darkened headquarters. The darkness was both sudden and smothering, and left Alexander feeling unmoored, as if he were adrift in the depths of space. Then he heard the kid scuttling over to him beside the door.

  He turned so his good shoulder was against the wall, so that when Sketch opened it, Alexander could bring the Beretta to bear.

  “I’ll be ready to slam it fast if you give the order, Chief,” Sketch said, as calm as ever.

  Maybe there’s hope for this kid yet. “Do it.”

  Sketch turned the knob and parted the door a few inches—Alexander was met by a draft of cooler air and the sweet, corrupt tang of slaughter.

  The hallway was not completely dark, as a faint haze of light filtered from high above. The door on the landing must’ve been open, letting in the scant natural light from the depot. That meant morning had already arrived.

  A shadow stirred in the hallway, and then a glimmer emerged from the darkness. A pair of smoldering red eyes danced not twenty feet from him.

  Alexander considered ducking back inside the room and helping Sketch seal their tomb. Instead, he decided to go down fighting.

  With a growl of rage, he kicked the door open wide enough to slip outside, raised the Beretta, and yelled, “Come and eat some American steel, you sons of bitches!”

  The creature was now fully revealed. Its lithe form caught the scant light and it seemed to glow in the darkness. It lifted its head, blood and ragged meat dripping from its snout.

  It was a metal wolf.

  Perhaps even the same one that had stared at him in the forest.

  It took a few steps toward him, padding slowly on its sleek silver legs, picking its way among the torn bodies of the Zaps. It passed him without any acknowledgement, reached the stairs, and sprinted up them and out of sight.

  “What the hell was that, Chief?” Sketch said from behind him.

  “Your future.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “I told you something was coming up,” DeVontay said.

  His eye had become increasingly warm over the last few miles, and now it vibrated with a high, faint intensity like a tuning fork struck against a piano. Interstate 81 at Harrisonburg was completely blocked in all four lanes, as well as the median and exit ramps. Abandoned trucks, buses, trailers, and vans had been arranged end to end so that not even a bicycle could squirt through between them. On a bridge connecting the two exit ramps, an army of Zaps and silver robots stood looking down at them, silent and eerie under the shrouded sun of high noon.

  Finn lifted his head as if listening for a distant sound. “There’s a new city here.”

  “Something’s not right,” Munger said. “I told you I just rolled through here two weeks ago. None of this was here.”

  The gas stations, fast food restaurants, and retail shops built for the convenience of commerce were now little more than black husks, with only a few stacks of blocks and scorched metal posts to mark what was left of human civilization. K.C. had slowed as the ruins came into view, with a few tendrils of smoke still rising here and there to serve as caution flags. But once they drew close enough to see the hundred or so figures assembled along the bridge, DeVontay understood what his metal orb was warning him about.

  Franklin shifted Joanna to his left arm, dug a map from K.C.’s pack, and spread it against the windshield. “We can back up to Charlottesville and then roll up 340 through the Shenandoah National Park,” he said, although he didn’t sound all that eager to implement the plan.

  “Whoever’s blocking us here can block that route even more easily,” Munger said. “We ran some recon in that valley, and you could block it with four or five cars. If something doesn’t want us to get through, we’re not getting through.”

  “The only other option is to swing east and make it to Culpeper,” Franklin said, tracing the route with his finger. “But that’s probably another hour out of the way.”

  “We’d need more diesel fuel,” K.C. said. “And this thing’s misfiring something awful. I don’t know if it has another hundred miles in it.”

  “There won’t be any more diesel in a two-hour radius,” Munger said. “Or much of anything else, for that matter. We’ve been making supply runs in this region for years. It’s pretty much tapped out.”

  “So we go west,” K.C. said. “There was an exit a few miles back.”

  “That’s even more out of the way,” Franklin said, consulting the map again. Joanna tugged on his beard but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “We’ve got another option,” Rachel said. “We can negotiate.”

  “I don’t think so,” Finn said. “This is Carter’s territory.”

  “Carter?” Joanna said. “I thought he was dead.”

  “So did I. But he kept his people instead of purging them. And he’s allied them with his robots.”

  “So that’s why we haven’t seen any Zaps? Because you killed them all?” DeVontay said. Although Zaps referred to themselves as “The New People,” Finn and Joanna had accepted the term when talking with humans.

  “We didn’t kill them,” Joanna said. “We appropriated their material for a more efficient resource.”

  “You ran out of people to grind up in your metal factories, so you started using your own kind?” Franklin asked.

  “Well, you were an endangered species,” Finn explained. “Harvesting humans was time-consuming. Our tribe mates were only too happy to sacrifice themselves for the cause.”

  DeVontay recalled how the Zaps in Wilkesboro had willingly thrown themselves into the plasma sink, building up a feedback loop that eventually led to a devastating explosion that had nearly killed Rachel and the others. Kokona had manipulated them via her telepathic powers, but they were almost eager to comply. Perhaps some vestige of their human identities deep inside them embraced the mass suicide as a release from their strange, mutated state of existence.

  “They live on in the metal,” Joanna said. “A communal force greater than the individual. It’s a great honor to make the world a better place.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Munger said. “Everybody dies to build you a city, and you get to live happily ever after on their blood.”

  “That’s not much different than the good old United States of America you said the general wants to bring back,” Franklin said. “Corporations were the biggest fucking vampires this world has ever known.”

  DeVontay wondered how much of Franklin’s defense was due to Joanna’s influence. The old man was
a libertarian by nature and a cynic by choice, but surely he would prefer the world of ten years ago over the nightmare that reigned today. But the argument was pointless now as K.C. idled the engine with the brake on, waiting for a decision.

  “So, what does Carter want?” Rachel asked. “To cut off New Pentagon, or simply to defend his city?”

  “I can’t tell,” Finn said. “He’s very cloudy today. Like he’s hiding something from us.”

  “So we try for a peaceful resolution, and if that doesn’t work, then it’s open season?” Franklin said, folding the map and leaning his rifle against the passenger door.

  “Even if we kill them all—and that’s a huge ‘if’—then the road is still blocked,” Munger said.

  “If Carter has the power to create this traffic jam, then he has the power to part it. Like Moses and the Red Sea.”

  “I thought you never read the Bible, Grandpa,” Rachel said.

  “I didn’t. I just watched that Charlton Heston movie.”

  “Why are you guys talking bullshit?” Munger said. “There’s a Zap robot army out there wanting to rip your head off and pour you out like a bottle of beer.”

  “That’s why Death Row inmates usually have some last words,” K.C. said. “Every second you can put off dying, well, you take it.”

  “Take us to Carter,” Finn and Joanna said at the same time.

  DeVontay noticed Rachel hadn’t spoken. “Are you part of this? Are they letting you in their heads?”

  “Looks like this is ‘No humans allowed.’”

  Munger, sitting behind K.C. in the seat formerly occupied by Private Cone, opened his door and got out. “It’s a long walk to Luray, so this better work.”

  “Just don’t start shooting until the kids get a chance to talk us past this mess,” Franklin said.

  “When did you get all googly-eyed over Zaps? You used to kill them by the dozens.”

  “Times change,” Franklin said. “People change.”

  Especially when a Zap baby is controlling their emotions. But DeVontay let it pass. Finn and Rachel appeared to have a healthy, cooperative connection, so maybe Joanna had only the best of intentions. After all, if she truly believed humans capable of destroying the planet, she had just as much motivation as any human to stop Operation Free Bird.

  They all exited the Humvee and gathered facing the bridge a hundred yards in the distance, the line of vehicles separating them from the silent army. DeVontay’s eye was almost electric, and he considered removing it and putting it in his pocket. But it might provide him some sort of critical signal that he couldn’t risk missing.

  The Zaps weren’t arrayed in regimented ranks, but rather stood three or four deep like a crowd watching a parade. Rows of robots stood behind them, sleek and still and silent. The Zaps wore silver suits that covered most of their bodies, and the only feature that distinguished them from the robots was their faces and glittering eyes. DeVontay saw no weapons, but the Zaps seemed to have abandoned their telepathically operated lasers long ago.

  “They don’t look like they’re amassing for a fight,” Franklin said.

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Munger said. “They could jump off that bridge and be over those cars in thirty seconds, half of them with broken legs.” He glowered at Finn in resentment of losing his soldiers. “And those robots…well, we’ve already seen what they can do.”

  “They won’t do anything unless Carter tells them to,” Joanna said.

  “Well, let’s make sure he doesn’t do that,” Franklin said. He shifted the baby in his arms, trying to find a comfortable carrying position while still holding his rifle. He’d always been suspicious of Kokona and so never touched her. DeVontay would ordinarily be amused at seeing Franklin’s tender, nurturing side, but he couldn’t be sure if Franklin had any choice. K.C. tried to take the baby from him, but Franklin turned away with a wary expression.

  “I’ll go first,” Finn said, which of course meant Rachel had to carry him. DeVontay fell in beside her as she headed for a narrow gap between a van and a pickup truck. While the Humvee couldn’t penetrate the line of wreckage, it was easy enough to cross on foot. Franklin, Squeak, and K.C. followed, with Munger bringing up the rear.

  “Where’s Carter?” Rachel asked, once they’d cleared the barrier and had to choose one of the exit ramps.

  “His city is just ahead.”

  DeVontay could see its glow. They would have to walk under the bridge, but Finn showed no fear or anxiety.

  If this is a Zap trap, he doesn’t have to worry. We’d be the ones who would pay.

  But he’d have to trust Rachel’s instincts and assume she would be able to detect any treason or betrayal. As they threaded between stranded vehicles and approached the bridge, DeVontay couldn’t help envisioning Munger’s imagery—hordes of Zaps leaping over the bridge to land on top of them. But they passed beneath the bridge without incident, and the city was just off the highway in a small valley that had once housed a business district. Mounds of rubble were piled around the base of the dome, as if the city had pushed outward from the center and swept human civilization aside.

  “How did they move all this rubble?” DeVontay asked Finn. “Some kind of robot bulldozer or something?”

  “Carter invented a pushing machine. I suppose you could compare it to a bulldozer, but it’s more like a living creature—it has a huge torso and a big, blocky head than serves as a blade or plow. That’s what he used to create the roadblock.”

  “Sounds like the stuff of nightmares.”

  “It’s a pet,” Rachel said. “It wouldn’t hurt you unless Carter wanted it to hurt you.”

  “Something I been wondering,” DeVontay said to Finn. “If you’re so smart and you can control that metal, and then the metal can think for itself, how come you never created planes and cars and boats to carry you around?”

  “The range of our influence is limited, as you know,” Finn said. “We can’t control the organic metal if we travel too far from our cities. We’re certainly improving as we become more intelligent, but right now we’re unable to go very far, especially if the transport mechanism is large.”

  “And the more operations they try to control at once, the more ineffective and inefficient they are,” Rachel said.

  “Yes,” Finn said. “Carter may not be able to control either the Zaps or his robot army. But he’s certainly confident in his abilities. Joanna and I both harvested our Zaps, partly because we weren’t sure we could always maintain power. Even though most of them shared a communal mind, there were certain…aberrations.”

  “We know all about those,” Rachel said. “One of them saved my life.”

  “And here we are now, as friends and allies!” Finn gave a big grin that showed most of his pink gums.

  Carter’s city was much like Finn’s in that it appeared to be a series of squat blocks arranged in some peculiar geometric pattern. DeVontay wondered if this, too, was an optical illusion, but his metal eye gave him no indication of camouflage or subterfuge. Apparently Carter was so arrogant that he saw no need for deception.

  “What next?” Rachel asked as they stood before a crumbling mound of broken masonry, twisted steel, and dust at the edge of the city, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up.

  DeVontay looked up at the column of plasma being sucked down from the atmosphere and compressed through a tube into the center of the city. His eye pulsed in rhythm with the underground machinery.

  “That’s what’s next,” DeVontay said, pointing at the sky.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The tiny drones descended like a swarm of bees, so small and fast that Rachel wasn’t sure if they were real or just a strange reflection in the aurora-hazed sky.

  But they turned in a silver wave, dozens of them, hurtling straight towards her and the others. Her first instinct was to shield Finn from the attack, and she wondered if perhaps Finn was the target. What if Carter was as egotistical and paranoid as Kokona and wanted to el
iminate all competitors? Behind her, Franklin shouted and scrambled to the ground, and DeVontay dropped down to hide behind a pile of rubble. He grabbed the hem of Rachel’s jacket and pulled her to the ground.

  The little drones buzzed several feet over the heads, the swarm making a complete pass before circling and coming back at them. Munger leaned against a fallen electrical transformer and fired a burst of automatic fire at them, knocking several from the formation and sending them tumbling to the ground. The rest flew by, closer this time, and DeVontay fired at them, too.

  “Don’t!” Finn shouted. “They won’t hurt us!”

  “Those things will be giving us a crew cut if they drop any lower,” Franklin said, unleashing a shot from his 30-30 and working the lever to load another round. “The colonel might not mind, but I kind of like the shaggy look.”

  “Carter’s trying to scare us,” Joanna said, lying on the ground beside Franklin, helpless to do more than squirm and kick with her feet.

  “He’s doing a damn good job of it, then,” K.C. said.

  Rachel, who’d given up carrying a weapon, knew fighting was senseless. They’d never be able to knock out all the drones with bullets, and Carter could pick them off any time if he wanted. She stood, holding Finn, and walked straight toward the dome even though DeVontay yelled at her to stop.

  “Does he have a carrier?” Rachel asked Finn, and the baby nodded at her.

  She wasn’t sure what would happen when she tried to penetrate the dome, but it turned out not to matter. The lightning that crawled along the dome thinned to tiny rivulets and faded, and the clear material dissolved as if evaporating. The city stood bare under the swirling, glimmering radiance of the plasma sink, throwing shadows among the metal blocks despite the muted daylight. Rachel saw nothing that resembled living quarters, so she asked Finn where Carter was.