Turned out there was a reason for his violent behaviour – his home life was hell, something I found out after we become close friends by some miracle. Some days he’d come to school with a limp, others he’d struggle doing the woodwork class because one of his arms was too badly bruised to hold the saw. And then there was the time he favoured his ribs for six weeks, causing me to conclude that several had been fractured.
Michal never let on where he got these injuries, but when I considered his refusal to discuss his home life and his insistence that we never visit him at home, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. When I tentatively broached my suspicions with him one day, he surprised me by admitting what I suspected – his father was a violent alcoholic. He frequently came home drunk and beat up Michal or his mother. He never touched the younger sister and brother though – probably because Michal always kept them away from his father when he was in one of his alcohol-fuelled rages. He chose to present himself as a target to save his younger siblings the same treatment.
I tried to talk Michal into reporting his father to the authorities, but as fathers in Newhome were considered authority figures second only to the Custodians, he wouldn’t hear of it. So I tried to help him in any way I could: a supportive word here, an encouraging word there, and more practically, I’d sneak bandages and healing ointments from home to dress his bruises and fractures.
When he left school at fifteen, Michal was so big that his father stopped hitting him when he was drunk. From then on, his attacks took the form of verbal rather than physical abuse. That was an improvement, but abuse is still abuse.
An hour of strenuous activity passed and Michal and I finally had all the copper on the floor. We scooped it up and headed over to the lounge room windows. Looking down, I saw Sergeant King and two Custodians standing beside the G-Wagon. The other private was still in the vehicle. A smile creased my lips as I imagined myself 'accidentally' tossing the pipes so far out the window that they hit the sergeant on the head.
"You thinking what I think you're thinking?" Michal asked, the corners of his mouth twisting into a smile.
"Absolutely, and you know, it just may be worth dying for," I laughed, before I turned and shouted to the Custodians below. "Incoming!"
And then we tossed the pipes out the window.
This was one part of the job that always gave me immense pleasure – if not a headache as well. The noise made by that many copper pipes when they hit the ground from a third story drop was rather substantial. And even though they had been warned, the Custodians still jumped.
The next job was to strip the copper out of the toilet, but even as I contemplated doing so, a painfully loud bang shattered the still morning air.
The Custodians had heard the sound too, as they had unslung their Austeyr assault-rifles and were looking apprehensively towards Victoria Street.
Michal looked worried.
"Come on, let's check it out," I said as I darted from the apartment. Having heard the explosion as well, our three teammates joined us and we hurried down the corridor together.
I sent a quick look at the others as we ran. "You guys finished stripping out that bathroom yet?"
"Well..." David answered sheepishly.
"Shorty..." I growled.
"Hey, why do you always blame me?" Shorty complained with mock indignation.
"If the boot fits..."
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled.
We reached the last apartment and barged in, picking our way quickly across the ruined lounge room. Glancing cautiously out the window that overlooked Victoria Street, I was shocked to see two large black cars under attack by Skel. The cars had been heading west towards Newhome and had run straight into an ambush. The lead vehicle had triggered a bomb that blew off its front end and killed the driver and passenger.
The second vehicle had been more fortunate, having escaped the bomb's effects. Its driver and front-seat passenger were using their open car doors as cover while they fired their handguns whenever they thought they spotted a Skel.
Their situation, however, was a hopeless one. Skel armed with crossbows were furtively approaching the car on both sides of the road, using a rusting bus and two derelict cars as cover.
"We've got to help them or they'll be overrun in minutes," I said as I sprinted out of the apartment.
The others raced after me with Leigh at the back and grumbling as usual. "What's with the 'we,' Jones, this ain't got nothing to do with us. Let's get out of here! I ain't never seen that many Skel in one place before!"
"Can we vote on it?" Shorty asked as we practically flew down the stairs and out of the building to meet Sergeant King.
"Sergeant," I said between gasps for breath, "Skel have ambushed two cars a hundred metres up the road. We've got to help them."
"We've got to do no such thing, Jones," the sergeant barked back, clearly offended I had the gall to tell him what to do. "Saddle up people, we're out of here."
Chapter Three
I reached out a hand to stay the sergeant. "Sir, those cars – those people – are heading for Newhome. Surely it's our responsibility to find out where they're from and what they want."
"Jones, this is a foraging operation, not a combat mission. I'll call for reinforcements, but for now, we've got to go. This is not our fight."
"That'll be too late!" I stressed, fully aware that we didn’t even have time to stand there arguing. "Sergeant, the guys and I have fought and killed Skel before. This isn’t new to us. And,” I hesitated, knowing that I was treading on dangerous ground, “we’re gonna help them whether you come or not."
Without waiting for King's response, I rushed over to our truck and motioned for my team to join me. "Kit up mates. Looks like we're doing this one on our own."
"Jones..." began Leigh, his eyes wild.
"Shut it," I snapped as we unlocked and opened a large storage box between the truck's cab and bed. We quickly retrieved our five Japanese Hankyu half-bows and quivers full of sharpened arrows that could penetrate Skel bone armour. I found the five-foot-long bows hidden in the basement of a dilapidated Japanese embassy. We also found the full-sized Daikyu seven-foot bows, but the half-bows were more suited for short range use. We strung the bows with practiced ease and tossed the quivers over our backs.
King's eyes were practically popping out of his head. "Civilians are forbidden to possess weapons of any kind! Now hand them over! Get in your truck, and follow us. That's an order!"
The crack of gunfire could still be heard in the distance. We were going have to hurry or there would be no one to save. "Sergeant, it's a different world out here and requires different rules to survive." I turned to my team. "Come on guys. When we get to Victoria Street – Michal, David, Leigh, you go left, Shorty and I'll go right."
We had taken no more than a few steps when King called out again.
"Okay! You've made your point. We'll rescue your blasted visitors. But when we get back home, there'll be a reckoning over this, Jones."
Having almost reached the corner, I turned back to face King. "Sergeant, my lads and I are going enter the buildings on either side of the road and then pop out behind the Skel and give 'em a taste of their own medicine. I strongly suggest you follow us."
The sergeant looked at the decrepit, decaying buildings and shook his head. "Hand-to-hand combat with Skel in dark buildings is not what we signed up for. You want to risk going into the buildings, go ahead, but it's straight down the road for us." With that, the sergeant called the driver out of the G-Wagon and ordered his men to form up beside him.
Now that the driver was out of the G-Wagon, I gave him, the sergeant and the other two, a quick visual going over to make sure none of them were holding portable ultrasonic detectors. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that they were not. That meant I could finally use my flash sonar to its full potential. The tables had just turned on the Skel.
Skel are uncivilized savages who live in nomadic tribes. They ambush their victims, and
they excel at it, so attacking them frontally was suicide. However, every time my foraging team had gone up against them, we overcame them most successfully by ambushing them.
The lads and I raced over to the corner apartment building and observed the scene unfolding on Victoria Street. Not much appeared to have changed; several Skel were still trying to get the drop on the two men from the second car. Those men would surely be out of ammunition soon and then it would be over.
Keeping my back to the Custodians running up behind us, I shouted several times with my voice pitched above the audio range of what dogs could hear. Anyone watching me would have heard nothing and assumed I was yawning rather violently. That I could create and use ultrasonic echolocation in the same way that bats did was my abnormality. The Custodians said such abnormalities were nuclear-radiation caused mutations of the human genome that would pollute and destroy humanity if not ruthlessly exterminated.
My brain processed the returning ultrasonic echoes as something I could actually see. It also allowed me to see in the dark, in shadows, and even through some materials. I could see someone’s heart beating in their chest if I was close enough. The ‘sight’ created by the ultrasonic echoes was not in colour – it had a surreal effect to it, kind of like a skeletal outline. One major advantage was that it allowed me to see hidden enemy before they even knew I was there. The louder I shouted, the further and more detailed I could see.
Now that I was much more aware of our surroundings, I was ready to act. "Michal, see the corner building that overlooks the cars? There are two Skel with crossbows hiding behind the third window from the right, on the second floor. You three take them out and then provide covering fire for the rest of us."
"Got it," he whispered back. Having one trustworthy person who knew about my gift might not be not so bad after all.
There were another four Skel creeping up on the second car. Shorty and I would slip around behind them and strike them from the rear.
Six more Skel were hiding amongst the ruined bus and cars, popping up now and then to fire their crossbows at the car’s defenders. As they were directly in front of the Custodians line of approach, I decided to let them deal with it.
"Okay, let's go!"
Michal, Leigh and David crept silently down the left side of the street, crouching low so as not to be seen as they headed for the corner building's doorway.
Shorty and I bolted across the road and into the abandoned shop on the opposite side. We dashed around rotten wooden benches and over rusting metal chairs strewn about the floor, all the while treading carefully so that we made as little sound as possible. We ran through a kitchen stripped clean of anything even remotely usable by vandals and foragers. From there we ran out a side door into an enclosed courtyard.
We pushed open the rotting wooden door of the adjacent single story brick building and rushed inside, hurrying through several rooms until we reached the foyer. The front door and all of the windows were gone, giving us a fairly good view of the street. In fact, a Skel was using the doorframe as cover from the Custodians, who were advancing up the road, firing short bursts from their assault-rifles.
The sight of the Skel standing there, waiting for his opportunity to murder innocent people, filled me with revulsion and anger.
I used hand signals to tell Shorty to take out the Skel to the left of the doorway outside. I would deal with the two to the right. But first we needed to eliminate the one in the doorway.
I withdrew an arrow, fitted it to the bowstring and raised both arms just above my head. As I lowered my arms, my left arm extended to its full length while my right hand drew the arrow back to my ear. I let go and the modified arrow flew straight and true, striking the Skel in the back and penetrating his hardened bone armour, lodging in his heart. The man collapsed to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.
"Come on, let’s go!" Shorty hissed, his bow drawn and ready.
I notched another arrow and nodded. Shorty sprang lithely through the doorway and turned left to despatch the Skel hiding just a few metres away. I ran out after him, but turned to the right, expecting to see the backs of the two Skel who were advancing on the second black car.
However, the closest one must have noticed his fellow collapse. He had turned around and his crossbow was aimed at my head. I didn’t have time to shoot, so I dodged to the right and thrust my bow inside the crossbow's mechanism and twisted up so the weapon was no longer pointing at me.
The Skel shouted a string of expletives and threw his body weight forward as he tried to untangle his weapon from mine. As I struggled to overcome him, I remembered why I loathed fighting these psychotic savages so much. His eyes, which were visible through his garish human-skull helmet, were wide open and bloodshot. His few remaining teeth were black and yellow; his breath stank, and he reeked of open sores, decay and filth. The stench made me gag. His entire body, with the exception of his neck, was protected by hardened human bones. A rib cage protected his chest, a pelvis bone covered his stomach, and smaller bones connected with wire covered any gaps. Even his arms and legs were similarly protected.
I tried to kick his protected his groin. He noticed and countered my kick, driving his armoured leg into my shin, denting it deeply. The pain was so overwhelmingly intense that I couldn’t breathe and my vision began to fade as I staggered back, favouring my injured leg.
The Skel yanked his crossbow backward, separating it from my bow. He arched it towards me, but before he could shoot, an arrow swished past my ear and embedded in the Skel's left shoulder. The shock of the impact almost caused him to drop his weapon. I sent a mental 'thank you!' to Shorty for saving my life.
Having regained my breath, I threw my bow at the Skel's head and tore the crossbow from his hands. I rammed it stock first into his skull-like helmet until I heard the bone armour crack and shatter. Blood flowed, and the Skel finally collapsed. It would be some time before he regained consciousness - if at all.
Glancing about apprehensively, I used my flash sonar. I saw that the two men hiding behind the car doors were now lying on the road with crossbow bolts in their chests. The 4WD had two more passengers, and they were hiding between the front and back seats. I watched the third Skel reach the car, fling open the rear-passenger door, and aim his crossbow at the two people inside.
Luckily, the crossbow I had appropriated was still loaded, so I raised the weapon, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The bolt hit the Skel’s neck and he went down, his bone armour clattering noisily against the hard ground. He fired his crossbow as he fell, but the bolt flew over the car.
With the Skel no longer an issue – for me at least, I paused to survey the battle. Michal, David and Leigh had overcome the Skel in the building across the road and were preparing to provide covering fire. The Custodians had not fared as well against the Skel. Two were down, slain by crossbows or rusty iron clubs. King and his last man were desperately trying to fend off the last two Skel, who were hacking away at them with animal ferocity. The Custodians must have run out of ammunition as they were now using their guns as clubs.
A massive Skel smashed King's gun out of his hands with such force that the sergeant was knocked over. The Skel lifted his spiked club to finish him off, but five arrows hit him in the back in quick succession, courtesy of Michal, Leigh and David. Four arrows stuck in his bone armour without causing injury, but the fifth penetrated his armour and hit his spine. He keeled over with a scream of rage. Shorty fired several arrows at the last Skel, leaving him looking like a pincushion. The nomad finally went down when one of the arrows struck his exposed neck.
All Skel accounted for, I tossed down the crossbow, retrieved my bow and hurried to the second black car. It was the biggest four-wheel-drive I'd seen, even larger than the Custodian G-Wagon. We didn't have many cars in Newhome, and certainly none like this one. I wondered where these people were from. I was distraught that we hadn't been able to save them all, but relieved we'd managed to save the two who were still hidin
g in the car.
Chapter Four
I limped over to the car and stepped slowly past the open rear passenger door so I wouldn't appear as a threat. Crouching on the floor between the front and back car seats was a middle-aged Asian man with cropped black hair. He wore a black suit and exuded an air of authority, despite his current predicament. I hazarded a guess that he wasn't Chinese.
I realised he was studying my face as closely as I was studying his. Perhaps he was unsure of our intentions. "And where are you from, young man?" He asked with an accent so peculiar that it took me a moment to work out exactly what he said. In fact, some words I could not quite understand at all.
"I – we – are from Newhome, Sir. You're lucky that we just happened to be in the area today."
His face lit up with hope and he reached out to take my hands. "From Newhome? That is most fortunate!"
"So you were on your way there? That's what I thought. I'm so sorry we couldn't get here soon enough to save your companions," I said as I helped him step down out of the car. His hands were shaking, but I was not surprised considering how close he’d just come to getting skewered by a Skel.
The man bowed. "Please forgive me, but I do not speak English. I am from Hamamachi."
I stared at him in confusion regarding his claim that he couldn't speak English. Apart from his weirdly disturbing accent, he was doing just fine so far. "Oh, you're from the Japanese colony over near Inverloch," I said. From what I knew, the colony was established around the same time as Newhome, by a Japanese whaling fleet that had been working the South Pacific Ocean when the bombs rained down. Rather than return to Japan, which was said to have been completely destroyed, the fleet made landfall near Inverloch and established a colony there.
Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series) Page 3
