End World: Corruption Undone

by David Peters

  Dylan smiled as he passed Caperson, “That lifeless plank is all yours, my friend.” He mounted Buck and verified he had a round in his old lever action rifle and that the hammer was locked in the half-cocked position. He looked over his shoulder to verify everyone was ready and they started back down the road.

  They had traveled in silence for nearly an hour when Beau caught Dylan’s attention. The Shepherd stood motionless twenty yards ahead of Dylan with his hackles standing on end. A low growl filled the quiet air. It took Dylan another thirty seconds before he saw the three shapes moving down the median strip of the freeway nearly a mile away. He held his fist high in the air and heard the charging handle on the T-Cannon being pulled back.

  The wagon stopped as they came parallel with Dylan, “First time I have seen Guards on a patrol. That’s a lot of firepower just to wander around and look at things,” Caperson said in a whisper

  The Guard pounded slowly ahead while the two Hunters plodded along just off his shoulder and a few paces behind. Occasionally one would stop to smell the air and try to catch the scent of anything nearby, then move forward again.

  “Think they know we’re here yet?” Dylan asked as he watched them move forward through his binoculars.

  “They sure as hell don’t act like it. Travis, can you reach out and touch them from here?”

  “They need to be another hundred yards closer but hell yeah I can! Long open road like this? No trees or wind? Piece of cake.”

  At about six hundred yards both Hunters stopped dead in their tracks. Their heads moved around frantically as they attempted to track down the scent they had just picked up. The random breeze made it difficult for them to get a direction.

  “Damn, they can smell us that far away?”

  “I want to say it’s the horses but we are three days out from our last shower,” Dylan said quietly. “How much closer do they need to be before you can shoot, Travis?”

  “Three hundred yards is the max so we wait.”

  Travis tracked the group with the iron sites on the small launcher until he felt the three were in range. There was a loud snap of steel when he released the arm. The shiny metal soup can left a thin line of trailing smoke from the fuse as it arced high into the air and crashed onto the pavement not more than twenty feet in front of the Corrupted.

  The canisters burst open with a sharp crack and small, blue, mushroom cloud. The three Corrupted stopped and looked around an instant before the cloud engulfed them. They fell to the ground in convulsions as the Dust attacked them at a cellular level, disintegrating cell walls and destroying their nervous system. The still air left the cloud to linger over the corpses and continue to attack them long after they were dead.

  Dylan looked down at the spreading pile of dissolved Corrupted as he rode by and an evil smile spread across his face. He may not survive the next few days but if they could get these cans into the door of the hive this is all that would remain of every single Corrupted inside of it. Every egg destroyed, every Worker dropped in the tunnel where they work, even the Queen deep in her well protected chamber. Thousands upon thousands of them flaying at clouds they cannot defeat, screaming in anger at a foe they cannot fight.

  Two days’ ride was all that stood between thousands of the enemy and himself. Four people out to do the impossible and all of them willing to sacrifice themselves for the ones they love.

  ~2~

  In the distance the four of them could see a wide swath of the massive hive. The bluff dropped off steeply into the valley below them and they were still several miles away from the Corrupted. Beau sat several yards behind them panting as he looked around, appearing to not have a care in the world. As long as his hackles weren’t up, they weren’t too concerned about a nearby patrol. Their confidence in his ability to sniff out corrupted continued to grow as did their affection for the dog.

  Dylan had his powerful field binoculars, “I can only see the one entrance, and it’s huge. At least a dozen ‘Rupts milling around looking generally bored. I can see movement inside the entrance but it gets too dark to see anything of value just a few feet in.” He handed the binoculars over to Caperson.

  “Damn, that stack has to be four hundred feet high. We are a good three miles away and the humming is already loud.” He scanned from one side of the hive to the other. “It looks almost exactly like the Sumter hive, just a hell of a lot bigger. The way the base spreads out and covers the hillside reminds me more of Santa Fe.”

  They slid back down off the bluff then low crawled several dozen yards into the thick forest where the horses were tied up. Caperson drew out the final plans in the dirt at their feet. Each person was reminded of their specific tasks and given the final positions for the attack.

  Caperson stood up from his hastily sketched attack plans, “Are there any questions? Now would be the time to ask.”

  He was met with stone silence as the others looked over his shoulder at the stack towering over the trees behind him. Each of them knew the plan inside and out. They had gone over it step by step nearly a dozen times the previous night while they sat around their small camp fire. As Caperson had told them, it was critical they establish a beachhead before the Corrupted could spread a warning and mount an appropriate response. If they got a warning out before they could get into position, they would be overwhelmed before they could ever fully deploy the Dust. They had to have control of the hive entrance and have an initial field of Dust down before they could spin up the big cans.

  Dylan said what all of them were thinking, “Nothing else matters once we get the cans spun up.”

  “I wouldn’t mind taking a few more with us if given the chance,” Caperson added. “I don’t plan on rolling over and playing dead the second that Dust leaves the can.”

  Travis stepped between the two older men and put his arms on their shoulders, “You older dudes are kind of a downer, I mean, seriously. We are going to straight up own this ‘Rupt town!”

  Jokester mumbled from several yards away, “You guys need to get a room.”

  ~3~

  The game trail they drove down was dry and covered with a wide swath of thick green grass. Overhead the sky was clear and the air was still. They could hear a few birds calling in the forest but all was still aside from that. The steady sound from the hive stacks droned through the forest in a deep, throaty roar.

  The four of them moved down the trail in close formation. Buck and Dylan rode a few horse lengths ahead of the wagon moving as fast as they could go while still attempting to limit the amount of noise they made in the dense forest. The soft ground silenced all but a few of the squeaks and groans of the heavily loaded cart but occasional ruts would cause the gear in the back to slam down loudly as the over-taxed tie downs struggled to hold the heavy cargo in place.

  The trees thinned out as they approached the stretch of open land several hundred meters wide in front of the hive. Caperson brought the wagon to a stop and set the brake with a push of his foot. The four of them quickly got down to the work of putting their attack plans into motion. Jokester pulled the locking pin on the T-Cannon and lowered the entire weapon down to Travis. Travis placed it in a modified tripod from one of the old army machine gun mounts while Jokester sat down behind the large iron sights and pushed the heels of his boots into the soft soil. After several adjustments to the tripod, he looked through the sights one more time and nodded that he was happy with the setup. He pulled the heavy charging arm and a single round of the modified Dust bombs dropped into the chamber. Travis attached a large, crudely made magazine to the top of the machine and filled it with ten more grenades.

  Jokester pulled the wooden crate of rounds closer to his side and made sure he could reach both the grenades and the top of the magazine for the weapon.

  Travis squatted down beside him and adjusted a few locknuts on the tripod, “You got everything you need, dude?”

  “Wouldn’t mind seven or eight more cases of the Magic Blue or maybe a belt fed version of t
his beast,” he said with a grin. “Maybe something with a rocket motor and laser guidance?”

  “Full case of the modified is the best I could do, sorry. Give me a little more time and I might have been able to make something. I feel like we are leaving you out here hangin’, dude. I don’t like not having anyone here to watch your back.”

  “Don’t worry about it too much, man. You are just as dead as I am, you just don’t know it yet.”

  “Man, what is it with you old people? Every single one of you farts over thirty-five flushes hope down the crapper the second things get even mildly dark. When we get out the other side of this little shindig, I’m anxious to hear how my little baby here did. Take notes so I can add any improvements into the others back home. I’m curious how well the magazine works, I also want to talk more about the belt feed thing, sounds fun.”

  Jokester smiled at the positive push the young man was giving him, “Good luck, Travis. I’ll see you when this is over.”

  “You too, dude. I’ll keep an eye out this way and watch your back as best I can. You just make sure we don’t get swamped.” He dropped a small wooden box next to the sitting man, “Push the button on the side if shit gets too thick, but no complaints if you’re picking splinters out for the next month.”

  “Thanks again, man.” Jokester watched as Travis climbed up onto the wagon and sat next to Caperson. He waited for the three to prepare for the assault. Dylan adjusted his rifle and made sure he had a round in the chamber. Caperson released the brake and braced his feet against the bustle of the wagon. Jokester pulled a second wooden box of Dust grenades closer to him and removed the top. The three nodded at each other and Dylan turned to Jokester with a final nod and spurred his horse forward. With a loud clang of metal on metal, the soup can launched in a high arch down range toward the black maw of the hive entrance. Before it was even halfway to the target, he had the weapon armed and sent another can toward the hive entrance and just slightly left of where the first can should hit.

  Jokester continued to work the heavy iron handle, sending round after round into the dirt and scrub brush that surrounded the cave-like opening. Starbursts of blue Dust covered the entrance before a single Hunter scream was heard. Several cans had bounced into the opening and the spark from the ignition was clearly visible in the darkened interior. Thick clouds of the dust rolled around the entrance and several dozen yards into the large open field in front of the hive. With the final round from the magazine sent down range, Jokester gave the signal to the other three.

  Caperson watched over his shoulder as he waited patiently for all of the rounds to be placed. With a nod, Caperson cracked the reins to get the cart moving.

  Dylan spurred Buck and surged ahead of the others. Beau ran ahead of everyone as he rushed to lead them into battle. He growled angrily as he closed the distance to the already dead Corrupted. They made no attempt to be quiet as they crossed the final hundred yards to the opening. From horseback, Dylan aimed his rifle at the large Guard in front of him but there was little need. The thick clouds of Dust swirled around the opening and were already being pulled into the black maw of the hive. Dropping the rifle onto his lap, he threw out several more Dust bombs and waved for the other two to come all the way in.

  This was the key moment. Everything hinged on them being able to finish this next step before the Corrupted could mount a viable defense and kill the small group from Paradise Falls before the final switch was flipped on the drums.

  Caperson set the brake on the wagon and hit the ground running. He met Travis at the back of the wagon and pulled the aluminum loading ramp down and locked it into place. With a bright-orange handtruck they moved the heavy drums down the ramp and began to place them several feet inside the doorway and spaced about twenty feet apart. As each can was dropped, Travis would pull the protective covers off and lower the fans into place. With a final lock pin in place, each can was ready to be spun up.

  Dylan looked out toward the open field, “Our opening cover is fading fast, gents! Keep your eyes open!” He could just make out Jokester sitting on the hill. His head was barely visible behind the T-Cannon as he looked up and down the valley for any approaching patrols.

  The cloud of Dust they had originally laid down was rapidly dissipating around them in the cool morning air. The starburst tendrils of blue were nearly gone.

  Caperson dropped the final barrel in place with a loud clunk, “Let’s do this thing!”

  The three began to spin up the heavy flywheels. Several screams rolled up the tunnels as the Dust from the grenade attack made its way down into the hive. They could hear the answering calls of Hunters deeper down as the cries echoed through the vast hallways. Dylan met Caperson’s eyes and they locked on each other as they cranked the fans and switched through the higher gears. The three heavy fly-wheels began to scream louder as they were spun faster.

  Dylan spoke around his heavy breathing, “Shit is about to hit the fan, gentlemen. I would suggest we pick up the pace!” Dylan flipped the improvised bicycle gear switch and the whine from the heavy weight increased in pitch as the hand crank became more difficult to work. The whine of the flywheel was nearly at the limit of what he could hear now.

  “One more gear and I’m there!” Caperson yelled as he cranked his wheel harder.

  A high pitched Hunter call rolled up through the tunnels. Soon it was joined by others. The sound of hundreds of cries could be heard above the ever present humming of the towers far above their heads. They could hear the thunder of approaching feet as the army moved up from the deep tunnels. Talons ripping into the cardboard-like walls as they struggled to get traction and be the first to reach the invaders on the surface.

  “Ready on one!” Travis yelled out.

  “Ready on two!” Caperson followed.

  Dylan yelled, “Releasing!”

  With three loud clicks, the belt drive was engaged and started spinning and the heavily modified fans were engaged. As the energy from the fly wheel was transferred to the fan gears, three large tornadoes of swirling Dust rocketed into the air. They rose nearly a dozen feet before the draw of air moving into the hive pulled the twisting cloud with it. The twisting torrents created by the contraptions Travis built continued to drain the barrels. Every six inches a small cover plate would roll out of place allowing air to enter the barrel at a level that would continue to draw the Dust into the air and out the top of the barrel. Spinning clouds of thick blue Dust bent at nearly right angles and rocketed down the tunnel entrance.

  The thundering feet coming up the tunnels were stopped dead with screams of anger as they were dissolved by the heavy concentrations of anti-Corruption Dust in the air. The screams began to change as the cloud moved deeper. Worker cries could be heard as the chambers deep in the hive began to flood with the Dust. Occasional detonations could be heard as Sappers were dissolved, the chemicals in their bodies combining with each other and creating the explosive chemical reaction.

  Beau paced back and forth growling deeply as he watched the entrance of the hive. Several times he let out a warning bark only to quiet back down to a growl as the Corrupted were halted by the biological attack. His frustration at not having any enemy to attack was beginning to show. He snapped at the empty air a few times in growing anger.

  “Stay here, buddy. I know you want to chew up some ‘Rupts but those in there are off limits.”

  Beau growled several more times then sat down and simply stared into the blackness of the cave. His ears shifted back and forth between listening and flat against his head in anger.

  For several moments all they could hear was the constant drone from the stacks and muted cries from deep in the hive when a single, shrill cry rose from the stacks and carried down the valley. Anger and hatred rolled on the wind as the cry rose in pitch then abruptly fell silent. There was no doubt that the Queens chamber was now filled with the deadly powder.

  Beau stopped his pacing and looked skyward at the stacks. He sniffed the air severa
l times and let out another long, throaty growl. He paced back and forth several times then walked to the back of the wagon and looked in the opposite direction of the hive. His hackles rose as he lowered his head, snapping several times at nothing but empty air. He turned his head toward Dylan to see if he noticed his change of direction.

  Dylan looked down at his dog then yelled over to Caperson, “That can’t be good. Beau doesn’t growl at just anything.”

  More than a mile to the south, from the heavy forest surrounding the hive a lone Hunter cry rang out into the still morning air. Then another joined in and added to the rising call. There were several moments of terrifying silence then thousands of Hunter voices rang out from the forest depths. The trees to the south shook with the sound of the army rushing to answer the cry of the only thing the Corrupted truly cared about. Their Queen had cried out for help. The lifeblood of the hive and their assurance of survival as a race were in danger and they were hard-wired to protect her.

  Dylan turned to Caperson, “It doesn’t even matter now. They are too late. That had to be the Queen and that hive is filled to the brim with Dust. It’s already dead.”

  Caperson wore a face that Dylan seldom saw, “It ain’t over until we’re down and we are a long way from down. If I can take one more of those fuckers with me, I will. I’ll tell you this right now. I’m takin’ a lot more than one.” He pulled the remaining Dust grenades out of his pockets and placed them on the wagon bench next to him, “Stand tall, Dylan, we aren’t done making a difference and we sure as hell ain’t out of this fight yet.”

  Beau stood with his hackles raised ten yards in front of the team. He barked several times at the trees then returned to growling. Jokester began to lay a thick line of Dust bombs several dozen yards outside of the tree line creating a barrier between the hive and the Corrupted. Large starbursts of Dust mixed with dirt and smoke dotted the field in rolling plumbs of blue.