The Fires of Yesterday (The Silent Earth, Book 3)

by Mark R. Healy

  “He’s okay,” Arsha said, packing food into a backpack in the kitchen. “He’s taken to sitting there a lot lately. He kept saying he was watching out for when you returned. I guess old habits die hard.”

  “I guess he’s not used to me being gone,” I said.

  “No,” Arsha agreed. “He took it pretty hard.” Her eyes drifted down to where Malyn’s hand still held mine, and we quickly disentangled and shifted apart in embarrassment. Arsha gave the two of us a genuine smile. “You two got something to tell me?”

  “Not me.” Malyn smirked. “I’m going to collect some tools from the garage.”

  “Seems it wasn’t all bad out there,” Arsha said to me as she left.

  “Sure. It was just one big party.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “I know it wasn’t. I’m just saying, you didn’t come back empty-handed.”

  “But I might as well have.” I dropped my gaze. “I’m sorry, Arsha.”

  “For what?”

  “For failing out there. I had a job to do and I couldn’t do it. Maybe if I’d have approached things differently–”

  “You did what you could,” Arsha said. “You have absolutely no reason to be sorry. I don’t expect you to fight an army by yourself and win.” I moved around to help her gather items for our journey, scooping up some cups and dropping them in the backpack. “Besides, you’re always the one heading out there and risking your neck. You’re always the first to risk life and limb, and I know why.”

  “Huh?”

  “You still feel guilty, don’t you?” she said, holding my attention with her intense gaze. “You feel guilty because you left and wandered the wasteland for all those years. You feel guilty because of what happened with Wraith when he almost took the children. That’s why you throw yourself into these hopeless situations, isn’t it? Because you think that will somehow cleanse you of your guilt.”

  I was about to object, but realised she was right.

  “Well, listen,” she went on, “you’ve done enough, okay? You’ve squared the ledger. You don’t need to be the one who throws himself in front of the raging bull anymore. You don’t need to stand alone against the monsters that are coming for us.” She shrugged. “None of us are perfect. I’ve made some pretty horrible mistakes as well. Remember when I pulled a gun on you? When I lied to you and lost your trust? I have just as many sins to confess as you do. If anything, I have more reason to be guilty than you.”

  “You don’t, Arsha. Not at all.”

  “That’s what I’m telling you. We’ve both made mistakes and we’re trying to make up for them as best we can. Just don’t go doing something unnecessary because you feel you need to sacrifice yourself to atone for all the things you’ve done wrong.”

  “Sure.”

  She sighed to calm herself and then glanced back at the children’s room, as if worried that we were being overheard.

  “Now, I have to go and do something before we leave,” she said, reaching up to a high cupboard and pulling out a small black box. She slipped it into her pocket before I could see what it was. I suspected it might have been a memento she wanted to leave at the gravesite on the hill before we left.

  “Do we have time?”

  “We have to make time,” she said. “I’m going to–”

  “Daddy! Space ship!”

  We both started at the sound of Atlas’ excited voice. He was bouncing up and down on his chair by the window, and for a moment I thought he was trying to instigate some sort of spaceman game with me. Then I realised he was pointing out the window.

  “No,” I cried in dismay, and both Arsha and I ran to the window to look out. Above the street, the Cloudpuncher was poised in mid-air, buzzing softly, its sleek profile pointed directly toward us.

  “They’re already here,” Arsha said, her voice full of dread.

  “Quick,” I said, gathering up Atlas in my arms. “Get the kids, head out the back. Carry whatever you can. Malyn!”

  Before there was time for anything else, I heard Cabre out in the street, and for one horrible moment I thought he was standing out there. Then I realised his voice was being projected through a loudspeaker in the drone.

  “Brant, we’ve got x-ray and thermal vision on you right now. I can see every single person in that place. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Shit,” I said as Malyn emerged from the garage, wide-eyed.

  “This Cloudpuncher is equipped with a pretty nasty side-mounted carbine. If you or anything else steps outside that house, I’m going to reduce it to confetti.”

  29

  The children came scampering out of their room to see what all the fuss was about, and Arsha intercepted them and guided them away from the window so that they’d be out of view of the Cloudpuncher. I took Atlas in my arms and placed him with the others before moving toward Mish.

  “Who’s that loud man?” Myron said, standing on tippy-toes to try to see past us.

  “It’s a space ship,” Atlas said to him enthusiastically. “I saw it first.”

  “Mish,” I said, taking the Ward by the shoulders, “I need you to keep an eye on the children. Don’t let them get outside, no matter how badly they want to look at what’s going on.”

  “Who is it, Brant?” Mish said, fearful.

  “There are soldiers coming, Mish, and they aren’t our friends. Just do as I say and we’ll be all right.”

  She nodded bravely and returned to the children, showing more faith in my promises than they really deserved. I returned to Arsha and saw Malyn over by the edge of the window, peeking out at the Cloudpuncher cautiously. She was only there a moment before backing away again.

  “Okay, it’s not good,” Malyn said. “Cabre wasn’t lying when he said he could reduce us to confetti with that thing. Those punchers are long-range recon drones but they’re also equipped with some heavy artillery, just like he said. I saw one of those make mincemeat out of a crowd of Marauders in the field a year or so back. We won’t get far against it.”

  “What if we split up?” I said. “It can’t chase all of us at once.”

  “It won’t need to,” Malyn said. “It’ll chase you down in a matter of seconds and then go after the rest in its own sweet time. With that imaging system on board, there’ll be nowhere to hide.”

  “Listen, there has to be a way,” I said. “Back at Ascension City I heard one of Cabre’s men tell him that the Marauders had shot a few of these Cloudpunchers down. That was one of the reasons the Marauders were able to approach undetected – they had none of these active at the time of the invasion. So there has to be a way of destroying it.”

  “Yeah, there’s a way, man,” Malyn said crossly. “Did you see the weapons the Marauders were packing? Mortars, RPGs. You can take one out with those. What have we got?” She glared at me and then Arsha in turn. “Rotten tomatoes? Handfuls of compost?”

  “I have my handgun locked in the store room,” Arsha said.

  Malyn waved dismissively. “Forget it. You won’t get through its chassis with that. You’d be ripped apart if you even tried.”

  “So what do we do?” Arsha said. “Just sit here and wait?”

  I realised the truth, and it made me cold inside. I didn’t want to admit it, but we’d been backed into a corner and there was no way out.

  “We’re out of options,” I said. “If we can’t run, we have no choice but to try to talk our way out of this. To bargain.” I walked stiffly over to the window and looked out at the drone, making no attempt to hide myself. “We still have something that Cabre wants. We have to find a way to use that.”

  I could hear the groan of engines in the distance and realised that Cabre was already within the city. They’d coordinated the arrival of the Cloudpuncher with their own, it seemed.

  “They’re not far away, are they?” Arsha said with dismay, appearing at my shoulder. “How did they get here so fast?”

  “Looks like they dropped everything for you, man,” Malyn said from behind us. “H
e wants this, bad.”

  “Maybe we can use that against him,” I said. “He’s got such a burning desire to bring the Grid back as quickly as he can. That might be our only leverage.”

  “Hey, man, you might want to shut it,” Malyn cautioned. “That Cloudpuncher might have ears on you right now.”

  We fell silent and watched, like prisoners on death row waiting for the hangman to step up onto the gallows. Malyn linked her fingers through mine again and pressed in close. I couldn’t tell if she was seeking comfort from me or trying to give it, but I was grateful for her presence in any case. I tried to gather my thoughts and come up with a way to approach Cabre, to try to convince him to let us go, but none of the scenarios in my head ended well.

  The Humvees began to roll in at the top of Somerset Drive a few minutes later. There were three of them, and they were accompanied by a hulking transport that rumbled down the hill on six large black wheels, a wide storage compartment resting on its back. As it drew to a halt, four soldiers disembarked from a doorway in its rear.

  “There’s a whole goddamn busload of them,” Arsha remarked sourly.

  Cabre emerged from one of the Humvees, tall and imposing and clad in his familiar black uniform. He seemed oddly out of place there, an intruder who didn’t belong in our little world. He glanced around casually to take in the view of the street, then cupped his hands at his mouth.

  “All right, Brant,” he called in a measured tone. “I want everybody out.”

  “Brant, we can’t,” Arsha said, distraught. “Not the children.”

  I looked at Arsha and Malyn in turn. “There’s no other way, Arsha. We have to do what he says.”

  I moved slowly to the door and gripped the handle, feeling like I was walking through molasses. Every fibre of my being was telling me to stay where I was, that stepping outside would only lead to death.

  I calmed myself. Perhaps it was true that the rest of my life was now measured in minutes rather than years or decades. I wondered what I would choose if the only thing left was to be strapped into Gunrix’s device and tortured, living out the rest of my life as some kind of zombie? Would I just choose to go out in a blaze of glory instead? Try to kill Cabre with my bare hands and die in the attempt? That seemed like a much better option right at this moment, but I also knew that attempting to do that would be the most selfish thing I’d ever done. I would leave the others, those who were depending on me, in the lurch.

  How could I let the children witness that?

  I turned the handle and stepped outside, walking down the path toward the street. Targen appeared at Cabre’s side, sporting a shit-eating grin as he hitched up his pants. Cabre just stood watching me intently, businesslike and detached. I gathered that he didn’t view chasing me down and finding me as some sort of victory as Targen did, but rather as just another task that needed to be done in order to achieve his ultimate goal.

  “Gotcha,” Targen drawled.

  Gunrix was also here, kneeling at the edge of the road to investigate a patch of wilted sunflowers. A soldier next to him plucked one indifferently out of the ground to examine it, and Gunrix responded by climbing angrily to his feet and knocking it out of his grasp.

  “Don’t touch that!” he snapped.

  “You a nature lover now, Gunner?” Targen said disparagingly.

  “We can use this vegetation,” Gunrix snapped. He turned to Cabre. “We can harvest these plants for all kinds of applications: fibres, oils, you name it. I’ll be especially interested to see if they have trees growing somewhere.”

  “I told you that you could take whatever you wanted, Corporal, after our primary goal is achieved,” Cabre said. “If you see something you want, you can take it.”

  “Yeah. We didn’t bring that goddamn truck all the way out here for nothing,” Targen said. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

  “Well, just make sure no one touches anything without my permission,” Gunrix said. “I’ve been trying to convince Cabre to come and check this place out for years, and now that we’re here I don’t want everything ruined because some klutz can’t keep his hands to himself.”

  “You heard him,” Cabre said, raising his voice to be clearly heard. “Hands off the merchandise. Corporal Gunrix will be directing some of you to load up the transport in due time. Don’t touch anything before then.”

  Several more soldiers lined the street, and I saw the massive frame of Major General Liv amongst them. She stood watching me impassively.

  “You brought the whole gang, huh?” I said disdainfully to Cabre. “Just for us? I thought you’d have more important things to do.”

  “There’s nothing more important right now than restarting the Grid,” Cabre said. “I’ve already told you that a number of times, Brant. I wanted all of my key decision makers here for this. Do you know why?” He began to walk toward me. “Because this is the most important moment in Ascension’s history. Forget the battles we’ve fought and won. Forget defeating the Marauders. This is where the future begins. Here. Today.”

  “And meanwhile the insurgents are tearing up Ascension City, and you’re not there to stop them,” I said.

  “The insurgents?” Cabre said, incredulous. “You think I’m worried about them? They’re all but wiped out already. Their little temper tantrum is fading.”

  “Like a fart in the wind,” Targen smirked.

  “The men I’ve left at AC are more than capable of tying up the loose ends,” Cabre went on. He turned to one of the soldiers. “The Cloudpuncher has done its job. Send it back home and get it over to the Marauder enclave. I want to see if there’s anyone left.”

  “Yessir.”

  The soldier returned to one of the Humvees to issue commands to the Cloudpuncher through a device in the console, and moments later it began to warble, its engines powering up as its altitude increased. Then it tilted away and began to recede into the distance in the gloomy sky.

  “So who are we taking?” Targen said.

  Cabre rubbed his chin and looked at each of us in turn as if trying to decide between items at a grocery store.

  “Brant and his colleague,” he said. “But I’m not sure if the rest have anything to offer us.”

  He strolled over toward the children, studying them casually. Arsha moved to intercept him but was halted in her tracks by a soldier with a rifle in her face.

  Cabre glanced up at her distractedly, as if she was nothing more than a fly buzzing around his head. Then he knelt before the children. They wilted away from him, sensing that he was not someone to be regarded as a friend.

  “So this is them,” Cabre said. “Our creators. Ironic that it’s now us who brought back them, isn’t it? The creations re-creating the creators.”

  “Don’t touch them,” Arsha said through clenched teeth.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one,” Cabre admitted, ignoring her. He glanced to the sky, casting his mind back. “I think the last I saw was about this age,” he said, waggling a finger at the children. “Skinny, starving little thing. Found him out on the street one night just wandering around, lost. Said all of his family had gone to sleep and wouldn’t wake up.” Cabre stood. “I felt sorry for him. I really did. I felt compassion.”

  “I doubt you’re even capable of that,” I said bitterly.

  “I am. Maybe you won’t believe it, Brant, but I am. That was why I snapped his neck.” He said it in a matter-of-fact way, not bragging, not trying to terrify us, just simply retelling events. “It wasn’t fair to him that he had to live in a world that had left him behind. His time was over. His people’s time was over. They had their shot in this world and they blew it.” He shrugged. “I’d do exactly for the same for a fish flopping around in the desert with no water in sight. If there’s no future for a species, why should it live on awaiting the inevitable?”

  “They’re two different things,” I said.

  “They’re not,” Cabre said. “You just can’t seem to accept it, for wha
tever reason.” He came and stood before me. “I still can’t figure you out, Brant. You’ve gone to such lengths to protect the human species, to ensure their safety, and yet you show no loyalty to your own kind. Don’t you care what happens to clanks?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then you have an odd way of showing it.”

  “Cabre, listen to me. We can still offer each other something.”

  “Such as?”

  I pointed to the Corporal, who had gone back to examining the garden. “Gunrix just told you he wants to collect the plants around here. That there’s value in growing them.” I indicated to Arsha and myself. “We can grow them for you. Arsha and I have been doing that for years.”

  Cabre shook his head. “Not good enough. I’m sure Gunrix can figure out how to do that out himself.”

  “Then let us give you the information on the Grid,” I pleaded. “We’ll give you our full cooperation. You take all the information you need and let us go. We won’t ever bother you again.”

  “I told you before, Brant. You had the opportunity to cooperate and you blew it. We can extract the information we need whether you like it or not.”

  “And how long is that going to take? You’re going to have to sift through decades of data to find the access codes that you need to unlock the Grid. That could take weeks.”

  Cabre glanced surreptitiously at Gunrix, and the Corporal turned his head to us and nodded. “He’s right.”

  “So here’s what I can offer you,” I said. “How about we give you all the information you need about the Grid today,” I said. “Right now. You get what you want on a platter instead of having to squeeze it out of us.”

  “I’m pretty sure I could get it out of you,” Targen said ominously. “Just give me five minutes with one of those kids and I’ll have you squealing.”

  Cabre glanced away, attempting to hide his reaction to what I’d said, but I could see that I’d hit my mark. He was intoxicated by the thought of having the Grid in his hands so soon and couldn’t quite suppress his excitement. He paced around for a few moments, lifting his eyes first to Targen, who shook his head, and then to Liv, who offered no reaction.