by Kyle West
It gave a shrill shriek as it lunged for me. It had me on the ground against the slimy fungus. Its completely white eyes bored into mine. I could feel the drool dripping on my neck, stinging on contact.
Another gunshot. I felt the creature’s weight collapse onto me. I pushed it off in a panic, and reached for my neck, wiping the drool off with my hands.
“Wash it off,” Makara said, handing me her water bottle.
“Thanks.”
Makara was still recovering her breath. “Thanks, yourself. That was some shot. I would have been dead.”
“Same for you.”
I poured the water on my neck, wiping it dry with my shirt.
Makara looked at it closely. “The skin’s a bit red. But there’s no open wound. You’ll be fine.”
“Are we good to go, then?” I asked.
“Yes. We should have seen them coming. Unfortunately, they blend right in.”
We walked the rest of the way to the cave. We now stood in front of it. The air smelled cool and damp, and carried the faint smell of rot. It was hard not to feel like we were walking into some horrible creature’s mouth as we walked down the slope, into it.
When we were a good ways in, Makara retrieved a flashlight, and clicked it on.
In front of us were the dead bodies of the lost patrol.
“Oh no...” Makara said, rushing forward.
They were utterly mutilated. From head to toe, something really big had treated these people like rag dolls. A bloody head lay in a corner, surrounded by a ring of pink fungus that seemed to be feeding off it. The rest of the body parts had been gathered in a twisted, gory corpse pile.
Makara went toward it. I grabbed her by the hand.
“Are you crazy? Don’t go near that.”
Makara stopped. “You’re right. But he might be...”
Might? He probably was. But I wasn’t going to say that to Makara. The bodies were not just ripped up. They were rotting. They had suffered through at least a week of decomposition, and the way the fungus fed off them just made recognition all the more difficult.
“If there are any survivors, they either escaped or ran deeper into the cave,” I said.
We spent the next few minutes gathering supplies of the lost patrol. Guns, ammunition, medicine, food...it was a treasure trove. I could see why Ohlan wanted this stuff back. I tried my best to ignore the dead bodies.
Makara was barely holding it together. There would be time for grieving, later.
“Look, Makara...we have maybe an hour of sunlight left. We need to hurry.”
She nodded. “I know. I’m trying. Just...let me work, okay?”
After five minutes, we had gathered all we could into two large backpacks we had found nearby. It was almost all the stuff, including the guns and ammunition.
“Alright,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Suddenly, the cave darkened. At first, I thought Makara had turned off her flashlight. But she reached for her gun, and that’s when I heard a bullet.
I turned to face the mouth of the cave, and saw five figures blocking the entrance.
“Hey, Makara,” came that nasty, gravelly voice. “You miss me?”
It was Brux.
***
“Run!” Makara yelled.
We didn’t turn to look back as they fired at us. Bullets whizzed by. Makara turned off her flashlight, and the darkness swallowed us.
“I’ll find you, Makara!” Brux yelled. “I’ll track you down if it’s the last thing I do!”
His voice was lost as we ran on. After running and tripping for a minute, Makara turned the light back on – it was just too dangerous not to see where we were going, especially when something much worse than raiders lived here.
We rounded corners, sloping ever downward. A thin trickle of a stream collected at our feet, and we splashed our way through the darkness.
The light revealed scenery more and more alien to the eye. Pink and purple fungus hung in stalactites. There was a curious, deadening of all sound from the purple stuff covering the walls. A pungent, sickly sweet smell burned my lungs.
Soon, it was hard to breathe.
“Makara,” I said, stopping.
She looked back. “We can’t stop now.”
My head swam. It was hard to focus.
I felt a hand slap my cheek.
“Wake up, damn it!” Makara yelled. “Do you want to die here?”
I pushed forward one step. I heard voices behind us in the distance, from a different world.
I fell to my knees.
“Go on, Makara...”
She didn’t go on, either. Her eyes grew hazy, and she fell to the ground.
“What...is this...?”
My only desire was to lie on the bed of fungus we were now on. It was so soft. I nestled in it. It was warm, damp, like a living thing. I felt like I would soon become a part of it. I wanted nothing more than that.
I felt it itching on my face. But I didn’t care.
Makara and I were soon fast asleep.
Chapter 19
I swam through dreams – peaceful dreams, the kind you never want to wake from. I saw my father, Khloe, and even my mother. It had been so long since I’d seen her. She had brown hair, and soft, kind eyes. How this was her, I didn’t know – it had been so long since she had died.
After what seemed days in this state, even the dreams began to fade.
I opened my eyes and found myself in a dark room, alone. I was in a small bed, and I made out the faint outlines of a desk in the corner.
I thought I had died.
I tried to move my legs, but they didn’t obey my commands.
“Makara...”
My voice was soft and raspy. Nothing answered it.
Then, the door opened, letting in a flood of white light. I saw a shadowy shape enter. I shielded my eyes.
“You are up, finally,” came a deep, male voice.
“Who are you?”
I did my best to sit up, and leaned my back against the headboard of the bed. I was terribly thirsty.
“Water.”
The man handed me a leather canteen. I drank the warm water greedily.
“I found you and Makara while collecting samples,” he said. “Foolish thing – to run into a xenofungal field without the proper breathing equipment. If I hadn’t come along, you would have been dead. Or worse.”
My eyes were starting to focus. I could now see that the man tall, all angles and hard muscle. He had broad shoulders, tanned skin, and a shaved head. His eyes, while I could not determine their color, were focused and serious. He looked to be in his early to mid-twenties.
“How long have I been here?” I asked.
“I found you on September 30. It is now October 2. Some never wake from the coma caused by xenofungal sleeping spores. You were lucky. I came along just in time. Some luck that was.”
“Where is Makara?”
“She awoke earlier in the day, but I couldn’t get two words out of her. She is asleep again. She will be fine.”
He walked to the door, flipping on the light. Suddenly, everything was illuminated, and my eyes burned.
The man looked very familiar. At first, I thought I might have known him from Bunker 108. He would have been a security officer, given his stature. But I knew for a fact he wasn’t from 108. I would have remembered him.
Then, I realized he looked like Makara.
“Samuel?”
“Yes. You must be Alex.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s the only name Makara keeps saying in her sleep. That, and mine.”
“We thought you were dead. You were the whole reason for our coming here.”
He gave a small smile. “Was I now?”
“Makara will go crazy. Are there other survivors?”
“No. Just me.”
“We were chased by raiders into the cave. We thought you were dead when we saw the corpse pile.”
Samuel nodded. “
They ran you right into the Bunker, then. You are lucky you survived.”
“How did you escape? What happened to you guys?”
“We will speak of that later. Let us go check on my sister.”
“Is she awake?"
Just then, she screamed from the room next to us. Samuel and I got up and ran out of the room, pistols in hand. I ran after him.
We went into the hall, and burst into Makara’s room. Makara was sitting up in bed, eyes wide.
“Makara, what’s wrong?” Samuel asked.
Makara looked at Samuel as if he was a ghost. She didn’t say a word.
Samuel went to her, grabbed both her hands, and helped her out of bed. All the time, Makara never looked away, not believing.
There was still no discernible reaction on Makara’s face. Then, slowly, her eyes filled with tears, and her shoulders shook.
Samuel embraced her. Makara let out a suppressed sob.
“I can’t believe this,” she said. “It is too good to be true.”
“It is true,” Samuel said. “I am here. Believe it.”
They parted.
“First,” Makara said. “What about those raiders? Did they follow us in?”
Samuel shook his head. “I saw no raiders. I guess they did not follow you in. Though I would not have been surprised if they had, given the contents of Alex’s pack.”
“They might still be out there,” I said.
“Maybe,” Samuel said. “But it’s been two days now. Unless there was another reason, they would have long given up the chase by now.”
“They probably took all the supplies we left at the front of the cave,” Makara said.
She looked at Samuel as if she still could not believe her eyes.
“And in either case,” Samuel said, “there is another way out. It is harder, and it comes out near the top of Cold Mountain. There is an elevator shaft, but to get there we would have to go through the thickest part of the Bunker. The part that is not secure.”
“Can’t we just go out the way we came in?” I asked. “You have breathing masks, don’t you?”
“Just the one,” Samuel said. “I have turned this section of the Bunker up and down looking for more since you’ve been sleeping, but have found nothing. We’d have to search the main part of the Bunker – at which point we might as well just leave through the elevator shaft. We haven’t the time or the resources to secure the whole thing.”
“Are we leaving now?” I asked.
“No,” Samuel said. “You and Makara need rest. We can catch up in the meantime.”
“Not before we have something to eat, Sam,” Makara said.
“Yes,” Samuel said. “I’d forgotten that. The kitchen is just across the hall. There is still plenty of frozen food. The microwave still works.”
We went there, and had a meal of chicken, vegetables, and bread, which had all been frozen in the deep freeze. I hadn’t had meat since Bunker 108, and it tasted amazing. By the time we finished, I was ready to sleep again. But Samuel instead led us down the hall, and into a small break room with some sofas, a television, and a pool table.
“We can speak here. First things first - what happened to you after Los Angeles, Makara?”
Up to this point, I had not heard the full story. I was listening almost as eagerly as Samuel.
She began.
***
“It was two years ago.” Makara smiled grimly. “The day Raine was assassinated. It was my last hour in Los Angeles. It was a warm day. You might remember that, Samuel. I was on the roof of the Lost Angels Headquarters, the main base of operations for the gang. It used to be a thirteen story bank just west of downtown. Now, I suppose it is still only rubble.
“I was watching the sunset from the rooftop when the streets came alive. Hundreds of Black Reapers surrounded the tower. You ran to the roof, screaming for me. You told me Raine was dead, and that we had to leave. You ended up staying, however.” She sighed. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.
“You pushed me out the back door, with a pack and a gun. Then, a few mortars flew through the air, whistling as they passed. The explosions rocked everything, and all I saw was darkness and fire. Acrid smoke filled my lungs, stung my eyes, choked my breath. My hearing faded, and then there was nothing – I felt nothing, saw nothing, knew nothing as the rubble crashed down.”
She said nothing for a while. Samuel and I waited for her to go on.
“The entire building was a ruin behind me. It was only as the gunshots faded, as the Reapers’ bikes tore through the streets and surrounded the building, that I ran. I ran as far as I could, though I had nowhere to run to. I ran east through the streets, through decaying buildings, through toppled fences and broken walls. I looked back, and the tower was gone in a smoking ruin, along with my entire life. I thought you had died.
“I wandered for weeks. Some nights I found food. Some nights I didn’t. Winter was coming.
“It was the next day when I fell in with a group of raiders. At first, one of the men wanted to use me and keep me as his. But I shot him. I didn’t care what they did to me. The leader – a man named Char – smiled. He fed me, and put clothes on my back.
“I was in.
“We raided all through autumn. We killed, we stole, and the men did worse. But never once would they touch me. I was one of them.
“I was aware that I was becoming less and less of a person. But I felt less than nothing. By October, we headed west out of the valley along I-10, into the Mojave. We traveled for weeks, until we reached Raider Bluff. I had never seen anything like it. The city is huge, built on a giant, three-tiered mesa. The city has three levels, including the fortified Alpha’s Compound at the top. We came, laden with camels of goods. We were treated like kings. I allowed myself a smile, then. With my share of the loot, I was able to trade for guns, for food, for clothes, and batts. It was all mine.
“Everyone in town wanted to know who I was – the woman raider. The women in Raider Bluff are little more than slaves for the men. There are exceptions – like my friend Lisa, who runs a bar called the Bounty, who I became friends with. When winter came on, I hardly stepped outside from that place. It was cold, but I stayed in there, where I rented a room. I drank much. I hardly remember the winter of 2058.
“When the storms ended, raid leaders searched for new recruits. Dozens approached me, but I turned them all down. I intended to stay there and drink myself to death.
“And then, I realized my batts were running thin. Without the batts, I could not eat, and more importantly, I could not drink. I decided to continue living. I don’t know why. I didn’t have anyone. Everyone in my family was dead. I knew nothing of friendship.
“I entered onto a raid with the next leader who approached me. His name was Brux.”
Makara paused to drink from a glass of water. She looked at me, and gave a tired smile.
“Brux was especially cruel, even for a raider. His specialty was slaves. Women, mostly. I did not know this at the time. Lisa warned me against him, but I did not care. I knew he brought back the loot, and I wanted that.
“That year, I saw the most terrible things. I will not repeat them here. I felt myself die more and more each passing day. I was afforded no respect among the raid group, and the only way I could get it was by killing one of them who tried to rape me. Finally, they learned, and kept away from me. Many times, I flew into rages and threatened to take my share back to Bluff. Brux would not hear of it.
“I became aware of it, slowly. Brux would watch me on those cold nights, when he thought I was sleeping. Countless times he tried to have his way with me. I learned to both sleep and be aware of the danger. But he never let me be, no matter what I tried. I could not kill him – that would be mutiny, a crime punishable by crucifixion. I had seen a death like that, in the winter. The crows had feasted well all the next day.
“I thought the year would never end. It was a good year, though, if good could be used as a word. Twenty sla
ves, one hundred camels, and plenty of loot. I collected four times the batts with Brux than I did under Char.
“How could I do this, you ask? I don’t know. I had no conscience, then. I didn’t care about anything.”
Makara had stopped talking. Samuel had become distant – grieved, in a way. I felt like I had to say something, to make her go on.
“What caused you to care?” I asked.
“That did not happen until the next season. There are two seasons in Raider Bluff – winter, and summer. In the summer, you raid. In the winter, you hide inside and try not to freeze to death. That winter, the end of 2059, I told Lisa I was done. But I could not be done. We both knew this. Raiding, once chosen, can never be abandoned. One, because no settlement will take you. And two, once abandoned, even raiders won’t have you. You either raid, or you starved. It is that simple.
“And there was something else I did not know. Brux had marked me. It was believed, however falsely, that I was his woman. The other raid leaders were afraid of him, so they did not ask me to raid with them next season. There was nothing but to go with Brux again that summer.
“When we left Bluff, things went well at first. And then – misfortune upon misfortune. A sandstorm killed two men and buried the first two months of loot. We spent days trying to dig it up, but we had lost it. After that, everything was lean.”
“Lean?” I asked.
“Had been picked over already. No loot.” She sighed. “We trekked north, far from normal raiding territory. For miles and miles we walked, until we reached the Ice Lands. Though it was summer, the nights were deathly cold. But Brux was a risk-taker – he thought there would be people here, or at the least, cities that had not yet been looted. We were trying to find one – called Portland, but we became lost in a Blight.
“This was my first Blight to see on the West Coast. The trees were twisted and turned. I had seen nothing like it since my original home – Bunker One. One night, we were attacked by a pack of monsters. We killed them, but at great cost. What men did not die in the attack froze or starved on our journey back to southern lands. Somehow, we found our way back – just six of us, out of an original twelve.
