“Well, this is wonderful,” the woman said several hours later.
We stood before the smouldering ruins of the camp, a broad swath of black across the pale sand of the wasteland. She picked through the charred ruins, dying embers still glowing dully amber, the air redolent of burnt plastic and the chemical smell of detonated munitions. She poked at a blackened mound with her toe, turning it over. A clank body.
“They’re getting more and more bold,” she muttered. “Or more desperate.”
“The Marauders?” I said, as she continued to circle around. “What was this place?”
“This was my drop-off point,” she said. “This was where I was going to unload you.”
“Great. This will do. Why don’t you cut my bonds, give me back my stuff, and we’ll call it even.”
“Yeah. Nice try.”
“So what are you looking for?” I said.
She kicked out in frustration at a charred crate and it burst apart and scattered in all directions.
“A way to get home,” she said. She shook her head. “What a goddamn mess.”
“Then you’re going to have to change your plans.”
She stared desolately out into the wasteland. “Yeah. Now we’re gonna be walking a lot further than I’d hoped.”
“It’s going to be night soon, by the looks of it.”
“I know.” She consulted the compass, holding it up close to her face in the dim light. “We’ll go that way.” She lifted a finger and pointed. “There’s some shelter a couple of clicks away, if I remember correctly. We’ll stay there for the night.”
Finding nothing to salvage, the woman was keen to get moving. I went on ahead and she trailed behind. She was now even more wary of the environment than she had been before, as the incident at the camp seemed to have somewhat dislodged her air of calm. Sensing my opportunity, I realised that this might be the dent in her composure that would allow me to take the upper hand.
“So things aren’t working out quite as you’d hoped, huh?” I said, intending to scratch away further at her confidence.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Really? From here it looks like you’re losing it.”
“Whatever, man.”
“I mean, didn’t you even consider this might happen?”
“No, just like you didn’t consider me sticking a gun in your neck back at that spire. This is the wasteland, man. Things happen that you can’t predict.”
“You could have at least had a backup plan.”
“Maybe I should just put a bullet through your skull so you can stop slowing me down. How about that for a backup plan?”
“What, after all the trouble you’ve gone to just to capture me? Not a chance.”
Her voice dropped into a lower, more menacing tone. “Don’t count on it, man. You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
We came across another section of road and I began to follow along it, but she pointed in another direction instead.
“No. Over that way. Stay off the road.”
Night was closing in and it was getting harder to see. I began to stumble inadvertently again, and wondered if this might be a ploy I could use to get the better of her. How would she react if I slumped to the ground and didn’t get up again? Would she really have the willpower to put a bullet in me after what she’d said? Would she try to physically drag me to my feet, or just stand over me and continue to threaten?
It seemed unlikely that she would do me any permanent harm, given that she seemed to view me as a meal ticket, something of value. A commodity. I doubted that she wanted me damaged if she could help it. On the other hand, her demeanour left me in no doubt that she would do what had to be done. I figured that, confronted by a threat, she would have no compunction about putting a bullet in me. If I tried to overpower her and made a misstep it might be my last.
Up ahead there were more shapes looming out of the darkness, irregular and twisted forms whose nature I could not discern. I wondered what she had in store for me next.
“What is this place?” I said.
“Just some ruins. Somewhere to avoid being out in the open.”
Ruins. This was good news. Things might be looking up after all. In a place such as that, I’d have a better chance of losing her. There would be plenty of places to hide, unlike the openness of the wasteland.
I sensed her attitude shifting as well. She had noticeably lost some of her swagger, and the constant chatter that had been present throughout the day had also diminished.
“So I noticed the ‘Q’ on your forehead,” I said after a while.
“What about it, Cleanskin?”
“It means you were built by Quattro Incorporated, that’s what.”
She quickened her pace and drew level with me again. “Yeah, I guess. Never paid it much attention. What the hell difference does that make, anyway?”
“So you didn’t hear about the big scandal with Quattro?”
She just shook her head wearily. “The shit that dribbles from your mouth…” She glared at me. “If I had a stapler handy, I’d shut your mouth for good.”
“No really, I can’t believe you haven’t heard of this before.”
“Okay, Cleanskin. Tell me.”
“Quattro was a big player back in the day. A leader in a whole number of areas, but particularly in cybernetics. Made a lot of cash, built a lot of clanks.”
“Are you getting somewhere with this?”
“They went bankrupt before the Summer. Lost everything, had all of their factories shut down and repurposed, all because of shoddy manufacturing practices.”
She laughed again, flashing white teeth in the gloom. “Oh, right.”
“It’s true,” I said. “They made a whole lot of bad choices. Imported inferior parts from sweatshops in Indonesia, recycled old processors and passed them off as new, let the maintenance lapse on their equipment. You name it. They cut corners all over the place to save costs.”
“Bullshit. I don’t remember any of that.”
“Yeah, that’s because you’re equipped with memory chips that are three generations old.”
She laughed again, but without the conviction of moments before.
“Yeah. Okay, Cleanskin.”
“It was a really sad situation,” I said, shaking my head wistfully. “I feel sorry for the shareholders and the customers, of course, but maybe the biggest victims were the clanks themselves. Unstable, falling apart, or just prone to terrible mental conditions due to their faulty components.”
“That never happened,” she said, disdainful.
“I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you.”
“Bullshit. I’ve been doing fine for the last few decades,” she said, but her voice was now decidedly sombre.
“Well, so you think, but who knows what you’ve done? Who knows how many times you’ve snapped, hurting yourself and those around you, and then forgotten all about it later on?”
“All right, we’re done with this. Shut the hell up.”
“Hey, just thought you should know. You should be aware of those inferior components buzzing away inside your head.”
“I said shut up!” she yelled, her composure gone. Her fists clenched and she began to grind her teeth. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you, Cleanskin? Just because you’re different, because you were never branded like fucking livestock. You think that somehow makes you special?”
“I know it does,” I said calmly.
“And yet here you are, wedged firmly under my thumb? How did that happen, huh?” She shoved the handgun at me and pressed it firmly into my temple. “How special do you think you’d be if I blew your head into a thousand pieces?”
“Still more special than you.”
She pulled the pistol back and glowered at me. “You think just like them. Like those goddamn Marauders. They think that the minute they carve those markings into their cheeks it somehow elevates them above everyon
e else. Like they’re the chosen ones.”
“Don’t compare me to them.”
“Why not? You’re no better than they are. What would the world be losing if I blew your head off right now?”
I felt my own anger rising.
“You pull the trigger and you’ll be responsible for the extinction of an entire species.”
She made a disparaging sound. “Cleanskins aren’t their own species, you arrogant fuck. And I doubt you’re the last one anyway.”
She had mistaken my meaning about which species would become extinct, but that was for the best anyway. This was as close as I wanted to get to revealing the existence of the human children.
Caught up in her fury, she’d let her guard down, staring at her feet as she slogged through the dirt. She seemed preoccupied, vulnerable for the first time. I prepared to make my move, eyeing off the gun as I calculated how I was going to take her down.
Then, she stiffened and brought the gun up again.
“Hear that?” she whispered, stopping suddenly.
I listened. Something was grumbling faintly in the distance. “Engines?”
She nodded. “Sounds a lot like it.”
“Friends of yours?”
“Right now, there’s no way to tell, and I’m not going to risk it. Let’s go.” She shoved me in the back in the direction of the ruins. “Move it!”
We stumbled on in near darkness, but despite the noise I couldn’t see any headlights out there closing in on us. Whether they were obscured or down in a hollow I didn’t know. All that mattered was reaching those ruins and using them to evade or overpower the woman. I needed to get my hands free, get my shotgun back. More than that, I needed my ability to climb and run and fight. My ability to defend myself.
The first of the structures materialised before us, and it was clear that, whatever this place had been, it had been bombed into oblivion. It reminded me a lot of that forsaken city in the east, Perish, except that it was in an even worse state, with no building left higher than a storey or two high. Mounds of rubble rose up everywhere, made partially smooth by sand that had been swept in by the desert winds.
In a matter of years I could envision this place being completely swallowed by the wasteland.
“Keep going,” the woman urged. “Further.”
Jagged walls rose up all around us now, creating many turns and nooks and crevices. If there had ever been streets here, they had long ago been buried under debris. Although I continued at a great pace, the woman remained close at my back, never more than a stride or two behind. With the use of my hands I would have been better equipped to duck and weave and steady myself as I proceeded through the ruins, but for now my wrists were stuck fast.
Eventually the woman called a halt, thrusting a hand into my chest and pressing my back up against a wall. I stood there inside the alcove, coiled and ready to move as she glanced cautiously behind to watch for pursuers.
“If they come after us, it’ll have to be on foot,” she said. “They won’t get in here with dirt bikes. I still hear something, though.”
Behind me, my fingers caught on a rough edge of concrete. Moving surreptitiously, I slid my bonds against it and began to rub across the abrasive surface.
Preoccupied with the danger in the wasteland and with the noise out there steadily growing, the woman didn’t notice.
Whatever I was going to do, I had to do it soon. Time was running out.
“It’s weird,” she said distractedly. “Something’s not right. Do you hear it?”
“I’m not sure.”
She stepped further out into the open and lifted her gaze skyward. “What’s going on?”
I rubbed harder, scraping up my wrists in the process. I gritted my teeth at the discomfort and kept going.
“I think there’s…” She looked back at me, and I ceased the motion of my arms.
I shrugged. “What?”
She looked away again, and as I started to rub again, I realised what was happening. I knew what was out there. I knew what was coming.
Her jacket flapped upward and a sudden wave of sand whipped into her, causing her to cry out and clutch at her face.
Creeping up unseen in the gloom, the sandstorm was upon us.
I didn’t hesitate. Stepping forward, I kicked with all my might and sent her stumbling out into the rubble. I made another step toward her, but she’d somehow held onto the handgun, and from her prone position she began to swing it up toward me. I ducked, but she did not immediately fire. Whether it was because she was reluctant to give away our position I wasn’t sure, but in any case, I turned and strode through a doorway in the opposite wall. With the light almost gone and the whirling sand tearing at me, it was exceedingly difficult to see. As I ran I took blow after blow on the chest and hip and face, as unseen objects thrust suddenly out of the darkness. I kept going, hearing footsteps behind me and knowing that the woman was not going to give me up so easily.
I reached a narrow corridor with a blurry rectangle of light at the end, and not wanting to lose my advantage, I bumped and slid my way along at a rapid pace. As I neared the end, my shoulder collected a thick wooden beam, and the whole structure seemed to groan and shift in response. For one terrifying moment I thought it was going to come down on top of me, but then it settled again and I was able to squeeze my way out the other side.
I looked about for where to go next, then stopped.
I heard the woman grunting not far behind, heard her boots slapping through the sand. Shadows flickered and shifted as she entered the long corridor.
I planted my feet firmly on the ground in determination.
Wait. Another three seconds.
With my balance set, I lifted my foot. The woman kept coming.
Now.
I kicked out with all my might at the wooden beam. It groaned again, and bits of brick and timber began to rain down, and the woman cried out. I struck the beam again, and again. The structure crumpled and then gave way altogether, sliding and tumbling downward like a house of cards. I dived away out of its reach as the woman gave a muffled scream, and as the ruinous pile came to rest she was silenced.
8
As the sandstorm hit in earnest, I crawled my way into a corner nearby and huddled there while I waited for the storm to blow itself out. The wind howled and screamed through the crevices and narrow openings of the ruins, creating a deafening clamour like the tortured cries of mournful spirits, denizens of the wasteland who had taken umbrage at the storm disturbing their slumber. More than once I thought the whole place might implode under the force of the elements, leaving me no better off than the female I’d left behind me in the rubble. In time, however, the wind eased and the sands settled back to earth and the storm cleared out.
Wriggling and twisting, I was able to slide my wrists under my buttocks and then along my legs, bringing my hands to the front of my body. I began to chew and bite at my restraints but achieved nothing other than to cause pain to my lips and gums. Groping around for something sharper, I located a jagged piece of steel jutting from a section of concrete nearby, and after a great deal of scraping and rubbing I was able to finally cut loose my bonds.
Gingerly rubbing at my aching wrists, I waited there in the silent ruins while morning slowly approached. I listened for signs of the female but heard only the vast emptiness of the ruins. It seemed she was either dead or unable to speak, or too far buried to be heard.
Exhaustion finally set in, and I lay back and watched the skies with my hands behind my head. I worked my fingers as I attempted to regain feeling, and after a while the numbness subsided. I began to feel better about my prospects, having escaped the female, and in my mind I began to map out my journey after I left the ruins.
Abruptly, something miraculous happened. I saw stars.
At first I thought I was hallucinating, that I’d taken a knock during the storm and that my vision was being skewed, making me see things that weren’t really there. But the longer I loo
ked, the more I began to believe. The stars were there – muted, in turn fading and growing brighter, but real nonetheless. As the hours passed I even saw the blue of the morning sky begin to mix in with the black of night, and a spectral glow descended upon the ruins. It was like the first breath of cool air after months of stifling summer heat, and I couldn’t help but climb to my feet and lift my face to the heavens in hope.
Was this the end of the murk? Was it finally over?
Could I go home?
As if in answer, the sky began to darken again, and that ephemeral light danced away out of reach once more. As the sun rose behind the veil of gloom in the east there was no longer any sign that the heavens had opened up at all.
Maybe I am going crazy.
Climbing along a pile of fallen concrete, I used the elevation to try to determine a path that would lead me out of the ruins. Beyond that, I had no distinct destination in mind apart from heading north. I knew that my task would be more difficult now without the compass. Before crossing paths with the female, I’d used it frequently to keep my bearings.
I glanced back into the ruins. Perhaps, if I was lucky, I’d find my backpack in the debris around the female, or even the compass itself. It might be worth investigating, since a few minutes spent searching now would save me a great deal of hassle later if I could locate some of my possessions.
I wound my way back through the shattered structures, stepping slowly and deliberately and without noise. I wasn’t exactly certain of the path I’d taken, since it had been dark when last I came through, and three or four times I thought I was lost. Retracing my steps, I eventually took the correct turns and found her lying in the rubble at the end of the fallen corridor.
Surprisingly, her face was poking out of the fallen debris, but not much else. She lay with her eyes unfocused, head lolled to one side, while her body disappeared into the haphazard assortment of concrete and timber and brick on top of her.
My initial assumption was that she was dead, but as I appeared she looked up at me, her eyes glazed and her movements slow.
The Fires of Yesterday (The Silent Earth, Book 3) Page 6
