Paint Over the Stars (This Filtered Sky Book 1)

by Letitia Glade

  “The chocolate bar,” he mumbled, “thanks for that, umm…” I never asked his name.

  “Warren,” the researcher supplied, eyeing him warily.

  Cruel laughter surprised them both. Zeke clamped his mouth shut to make it stop.

  “Sorry,” he said, “I guess it’s ‘cos I was just thinking of rabbits.” Or the dessites were poking around in my head.

  The researcher gave a careful nod and said, “I have a vague idea of what’s going on with you. Your father told us bluecoats bits and pieces. Not enough time to go through it all now—”

  Zeke zoned out as the dessites buzzed for his attention. They were in a frenzy over finding something—a word, ‘burrow.’ Because of Warren? Well done. You’d make a half-decent thesaurus if the whole apocalypse thing doesn’t work out.

  Burrow. Warren. Burrow.

  Understanding dawned. He refocused on the researcher who had stopped talking and was watching him intently

  “You have an idea,” Warren said. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Is there anywhere down here with thin walls? Like, where there’s not much between the lab and soil.”

  Warren bowed his head, his eyes darting from side to side in swift thought. Zeke waited, forcing down rage-fuelled anticipation not his own.

  “There’s something,” Warren said. “The maintenance guys are building extra residential space for lab staff. It’s only a big empty room with support beams right now; might only ever be good for storage. There’s a part they haven’t even bricked up yet. Thinking of digging your way out?”

  Zeke gave a non-committal grunt. His eyes were on the clock again. Five minutes had passed since they had stopping there and the flow of people in the main corridor had thinned considerably.

  “What about the cameras?” Warren said.

  “Good point.” Ideas?

  We scramble cameras.

  “I’ve got them covered,” Zeke said.

  Warren gave him a long look and said, “Let’s go then.”

  Zeke nodded and followed the researcher out into the fast-moving traffic.

  They travelled through corridors clogged with mattresses, cushions and blankets, topped by harrowed refugees, most of whom did nothing but stare at the walls and each other as they waited for sleep and the next disappointing day. Some shared rehashed raiding party stories of the world outside, or read books in reverence. A lucky few played with cards, dice and various handmade things. One or two were bowed in prayer or bent over raggedy pieces of paper making carefully measured pen strokes. The offices Zeke passed had been converted into miniature medical centres, childcare facilities, or regulated electrical outlet areas, but most served simply as more space to cram bedding.

  A small detachment of dessites were buzzing some distance ahead and behind Zeke, acting as scouts by calling the colours they knew to avoid; yellow, green and black. Just as well because Zeke was fully occupied defending his rucksack against the prying fingers that kept finding their way to the various pockets and fastenings.

  Beyond the restricted access doors, conditions were markedly better, but even here offices were doubling as accommodation for lab staff and at least one cleanroom had been converted into some sort of laundry suit. Warren, clearly not a fan of Zeke’s supposed sixth sense, was especially on edge here.

  Despite there being fewer soldiers around, they were harder to avoid given the lower density of people. Snatches of their radio chatter told Zeke military forces were meticulously working their way inwards and down from the facility’s exits. They had also been authorised to use deadly force. This should have terrified Zeke, but again he was filled with a strange sense of calm. Maybe it was the dessites reassuring him that they could scrap bullets too. Zeke wasn’t so sure. Dart moved so much slower.

  Every non-military person they encountered in the restricted area worked at Ridtech in some capacity. Thankfully, they seemed far too busy to do more than mutter brief acknowledgements to Warren. Azureus members however, exchanged meaningful glances with their teammate. Zeke had no clue what these exchanges meant, but he had little choice but to go along with it. If Warren wanted Zeke caught or dead, all he had to do was yell real loud and it would all be over. The dessites definitely wouldn’t go down without a fight, though. That worried Zeke the most.

  Eventually, they came to a wonky metal door set apart from the rest. Although it was held secure by a chain and padlock, that didn’t stop a potent smell from seeping out around the edges; likely some chemical compound the scientists cooked up for use in construction. Zeke was reminded of the time he helped Georgie waterproof his bunker.

  Warren was fiddling through his pockets, presumably looking for a key, when they heard shuffling from the “empty” room. Warren raised an eyebrow and pushed the door to the limit of its chain so he could peek in. The dessites slipped in ahead.

  Yellow.

  Zeke darted out of sight just as someone hissed, “Unless your name’s Marcus, go away!”

  “You shouldn’t be in there!” Warren spluttered.

  “Neither should you,” the yellowcoat retorted.

  “I’m an engineer. I’ve been tasked to check the structural integrity of this room.”

  “Like they’d really risk one of their precious bluecoats for that.”

  “I can ask management to send notification, but they’d demand an explanation. I could tell them some of their potential nobel winners have shut themselves in a room full of inhalants, or…”

  “Fine, we’re leaving!”

  The chain rattled and Zeke heard the sound of people stumbling out and away.

  “We can go in now,” Warren said.

  Zeke inched out of hiding and motioned Warren to enter the room ahead of him.

  “Don’t trust me?” the engineer said.

  “Wouldn’t be smart to.”

  “I think you might actually have a chance out there.” Warren gave a wry smile and used his phone to light the way as he entered.

  “Thanks.” Zeke’s tone echoed Warren’s; half jesting, half as grave as the situation.

  The room was larger than Zeke had envisioned and absolutely reeked of whatever was in the row of open containers standing to one side. Warren sighed and gave Zeke the chain and padlock to secure the door behind them before hunting around for lids to at least stop the air quality from getting worse.

  “The unfinished wall is behind that tarp,” Warren said, voice muffled by his sleeve. “Don’t breathe too deep.”

  “Obviously.”

  Zeke finished locking the door before approaching the back wall, already a little lightheaded. As promised, behind the crinkly blue sheet, was nothing but earth. Okay dessites, do your thing. He could sense the angry nanites grumbling and received an impression of chewing partially chewed food. It was your idea! Their buzzing filled his head and washed through his body. He steadied himself against a nearby support beam and resisted the urge to kick it to pieces as the rage expanded out around him. He tried to harness the dessites like last time, but he couldn’t concentrate with all the fumes.

  “Ezekiel?” Warren’s uneasy voice sounded miles away.

  “Yeah. It’s hard to keep hold of myself. They’re so…loud!”

  “Shhh! Don’t shout. I know I can’t hear whatever you’re hearing, but—”

  “Quick, talk to me about something,” Zeke said. He clamped his eyes shut for fear of destroying Warren with a look.

  “Like what?”

  “Anything!”

  “Okay, okay! I’m sorry about your mother.”

  That sobered Zeke right up as the ever-present ache of loss ratcheted up a few degrees.

  “Keep talking,” Zeke said. It was hard to keep the pain from his voice.

  “Stuart’s been real torn up about her. Poor guy’s pulled in so many directions he wants to split himself in four. Before this mess, Team Azureus always knew when he’d been on the phone to Jeannie because by morning he knew exactly what tasks to prioritise. Sometimes she’
d stop by just to tell him about her day…and yours.”

  “That’s enough,” Zeke said hoarsely.

  I didn’t think my parents talked that much. Mum even used to visit him. Why didn’t she tell me? We could’ve gone together. Was it her…keeping Stuart’s focus off me? Sure, he’s a big grown man and responsible for his decisions, but he’d listen to her… It was a thorny idea he couldn’t bear to unpack right now. The dessites were still deafening, but their buzz was now coloured with reluctant obedience. Make an exit. The air shifted, creating a slight vacuum effect as they rushed to the task. A mound of dirt started to grow by his feet.

  The dessites had only been at it for five minutes when the chain rattled. Warren was slumped against a pile of building materials he’d used to barricade the door, doing his best to breathe clean air. Now, he glanced at Zeke who immediately slid behind the tarp, hiding in the growing space created by the dessites. The chain rattled again followed by a knock.

  “It’s Marcus,” said a high-pitched voice. “Anyone in there?”

  “Sure—I mean no,” Warren slurred. “Deaf nit leigh not.”

  Zeke snorted a laugh then clamped a hand over his mouth. Serious business! Come on!

  “I need in! Let me in,” Marcus wailed. “I want in!”

  He kept on moaning and snuffling until harsher voices joined in. Soldiers? Zeke backed further into the still-forming tunnel.

  “Get off me!” Marcus yelled.

  There was some kind of scuffle outside and Zeke got the impression the soldiers were having trouble pulling Marcus away from the shoddy door.

  “But, someone’s in there! I heard them!” Marcus whined.

  There was a harsh banging against the door.

  “Who’s in there?” a bored voice said.

  “Warren. I was sent to, umm…insect—inspect!” Warren stifled a giggle. “Inspect for insects?” He said a few more words that most certainly failed to impress.

  “Either toss out the keys or back away from the door.” The voice was now mildly amused.

  “Oh right, here’s the key!” Something not very key-like fell to the floor. “Oh, that was batteries.”

  “Get clear of the door. We’re coming in!” The soldier sounded more peeved than intimidating.

  Zeke was somewhat reassured that they didn’t think the freak that injured their brother-in-arms was hiding with the intoxicated engineer. They’ll think differently when they see fresh dirt. There was a series of clinks as the chain was cut followed by grunted curses as the soldiers shoved the door and found Warren’s barricade.

  “You still there?” the researcher whispered. He’d found his way to the tarp.

  “Yeah,” Zeke said.

  Warren blew a raspberry and said, “Well, start climbing. Up you go.”

  “What about you?”

  Warren snorted and said, “I’ll be fine. They can’t hurt bluecoats.”

  Zeke remembered Stuart bleeding on the floor and said, “Be careful anyway.”

  “You too, and if you manage to figure things out please come back.”

  Zeke could hear him struggling to concentrate on his words.

  “We’ll need your help,” Warren continued. “I know it’s hard with Stuart, but—”

  “I’d like to come back. I just…” Zeke thought of his father; his bony hands and gaunt face, so much thinner than they should be. He’s trying so hard and he’s just a guy, not some super hero. But, I’m so…angry! Zeke wondered how much of that festering rage was still his own. “Keep him alive for me, yeah? Tell him we’ll talk when things are a bit less—”

  The door crashed open. Zeke couldn’t have finished his sentence any better. He heard Warren scramble way from the tarp and spared one last thought for the brave engineer before he started down the dark tunnel. The earth closed behind him. Hey, the idea is to get out of here alive, right?

  If you die, we die. You will live.

  After what felt like miles of feeling his way forward in the pitch blackness, the tunnel started to climb steeply. The dessites made things easier for him by using the dirt above to form steps below. All Zeke had to do was keep lifting his feet and breathing. The latter was difficult, but he got a sense of receiving more oxygen than he should under these circumstances. The constant prickling of his skin suggested the dessites were gathering what air they could find and delivering it directly to the parts of his body that needed it most. Squirmy thought.

  At some point, his hands met open air. Zeke clawed his way to it, even as his bulky rucksack tried to drag him back into the grave. There was a nudge from below as the dessites pushed him the rest of the way up and out onto the dim hillside. Mission accomplished. The buzzing machines returned in a rush of pins and needles, parching Zeke instantly. He dumped his bag on the ground and almost ripped it open to get at its yummy insides. Eyes squeezed shut, he stormed through a whole bottle of water and two packets of rations before forcing himself to stop. A sigh of contentment whooshed out of him as he let his head fall back and opened his eyes to yawning darkness. His breathing stalled.

  The sky was the same as the night all the madness started. But it’s the middle of the day! He scanned the black expanse until he found a sullen, orange disc. Well, that sort of explained how there was light enough to see and the fact he wasn’t freezing to death. Anything reflective was rimmed with a bronze haze, as if the earth were locked in a state of perpetual sunset. I know every raider story almost word for word and none of them mention this…filtered sky.

  He clambered to his feet and looked out across the changed landscape. Even though the stories told him what to expect, it still made him shiver: the abandoned vehicles, now tangles of warped metal; the trees, bent into forms better suited to street contortionists; chunks of road chewed up and spat into the air where they remained suspended along with the dismembered ruins of buildings; and the lack of birdsong or any other sign of life. What is all this?

  This is us. This is desolation.

  He shouldered his bag and trudged to the closest boundary marker, a strip of red cloth the first raiders had wrapped around a beheaded lamppost. He had reached the edge of Apate-I’s range. Now what? I have maybe an hour before the soldiers realise I’m not underground and undo all their lockdown protocols to catch me, but if I step outside the boundary I’ll show up as a blip on whatever radar system the quads are using to find and kill people.

  Do it.

  Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? To be reunited with your quad friends after they’ve scrapped me. The dessites buzzed quietly near the base of his spine, but offered no denials. Zeke shook his head. If those stupid soldiers didn’t seize the apate I was building— His brain tingled at ‘apate’. It was pretty much a working prototype. I only wanted to extend its range a bit more. Maybe I could demand to have it back along with the materials to complete it, but I have no leverage. He kicked at some rubble. Wait, yes I do. I could threaten to expose them. I’m so close to Ridtech, if the quads found me, they’d probably find everyone else. No, that’s horrible! Plus, with Stuart down there, Ridtech would know I was bluffing. Sure, I’m not on the best of terms with the guy, but killing him? No. Still, what if Ridtech called my bluff? He shook himself. Forget it. The whole bluff idea is a bad one. Everyone’s scared enough as it is. I don’t want to be the crazy guy threatening to kill them all when they’ve finally found safety.

  Another option was building a new apate, but given he only had a few electrical components in his bag and on his person, he would likely have to steal equipment from Ridtech’s raiding parties which would mean a direct confrontation with their armed guard. How am I supposed to do this? I need an apate! He frowned as that word danced around in his head again. Why has it always been so familiar? Like I heard it ages before all this Ridtech stuff. A memory drifted to him, those last moments before the soldiers dragged his father away. Eureka. That’s what he said. Zeke grabbed at the marker post as he lost his balance. I know what he was telling me.

  E
ureka wasn’t just the bizarre exclamation of a mad scientist, it was a lake in Illinois. His father had taken him fishing there when he was small. Of course, now Zeke was thinking of it, he remembered every detail of that day—the day he almost died. Where had his father been while he struggled to keep his head above the water? Nowhere in sight. He should’ve known since then the kind of man he was. The dessites perked up a little and tried to stoke his rage. He pushed them out of his head and tried to think of what happened next. He woke coughing water from his lungs. Blood was soaking through a pillow of towels. His father hugged him close and with a sad smile said, “Now, you are the ultimate apate.”

  Zeke stood, scarcely daring to breathe. The implications of that one statement went so far beyond himself. All those little lab adventures his father took him on as a kid started right after that event. What if they weren’t just Stuart’s lame attempts to win back brownie points from his neglected son? What happened to me? Zeke exhaled noisily and rubbed his face with his hands. Later.

  Option one: don’t risk crossing the boundary; hang around Ridtech and rebuild my own Cranky, probably not before getting dragged back underground by soldiers and becoming another anti-quad science project, which could mean progress in this global war…or disaster if the dessites break free and scrap everything and everyone. He pressed his head to the cool metal of the marker post. Option two: risk trusting Stuart; step forward and maybe get killed by invisible, interdimensional monsters, who may then go on to discover the population of Ridtech and kill them too…or maybe live to find some answers to what’s going on with me; where Mum went; how to fight the quads and fix this planet…

  Time passed, only evidenced by a light breeze sifting litter and dirt. Zeke rocked his head against the lamppost, counting each wasted second. After thirteen minutes and thirty-five seconds, he stretched his hands to the heavens and released his fears in one long exhale. He raised his foot and took one step past the lamppost. Nothing happened. He took another step, then a few more. Still nothing. The air shimmered with heat, but there was no nightmarish attack. He was safe. He smiled wanly to himself and glanced back at the broken Ridtech sign. The world is ending—He adjusted his rucksack and started towards the fractured skyscrapers in the distance.—but I’m going to survive it.