Forager - the Complete Six Book Series (A Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Series)

by Peter R Stone

  “Don’t answer it,” Madison said. Her eyes were open now, glinting softly in the poor light of the vehicle’s interior.

  “This could be an emergency. I have to answer it.” My thumb hovered over the green button.

  “It’s not Chelsea, it’s Cho.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “You think the Custodian’s didn’t frisk them when they were arrested? Cho has all of their phones. So it’s either Cho, or Chelsea with Cho holding a gun to her head to force her to pass on a message.”

  “What if you’re wrong, Madison? What if Cho didn’t find her phone and she desperately needs to talk to me?”

  “I’ve known Cho since I was five, Jones. He’s meticulous to a fault. Trust me, it’s him.”

  The phone fell silent, but started ringing again almost immediately.

  “Maybe he wants to negotiate or something? Shouldn’t we answer it anyway?” Nanako said.

  “Answering the call will only give Cho power over us. He’s going to demand an instant response and threaten immediate consequences if he doesn’t get one,” Madison said.

  I put the phone on my thigh, unanswered. Several minutes passed, and then it buzzed once.

  “That’ll be the threat,” Madison said.

  Opening the message, I saw that Madison had been spot on. Although the message came from Chelsea’s phone, it wasn’t from her. As soon as I read it, the blood drained from my face and my strength fled away.

  Jones, this is General Cho. I have your family. You have ten minutes to surrender to the closest Custodian or I will execute them one by one, starting with your father.

  I passed the phone to the girls, who read it and handed it back.

  “He’s bluffing,” Madison said.

  “What if he’s not?” I replied.

  “He’s not going to kill someone who gives him a hold over you.”

  “What do you think, Nanako?”

  “What would she know?” Madison snapped.

  We fell silent, my heart pounding hard in the silence. Finally, I got another message.

  Five minutes, Jones.

  “He’s bluffing.” Madison’s eyes were closed and she grimaced from pain.

  “But if he’s isn’t? I don’t want to lose my father like this,” I said.

  “As I said–”

  “My father and I didn’t exactly part on good terms the last time I saw him.” That was eight months ago. I had bumped into him while preparing to rescue Nanako from the Custodians before they could execute her. His parting words still stung: I did everything for you, Son, spared no expense, and this is how you repay me, by becoming a traitor? You've become an embarrassment to me! I never want to see or hear from you again – I never even want to hear your name mentioned in my presence!

  I wanted an opportunity to win his approval and acceptance, to show him I wasn’t a traitor but a patriot trying to save the town. Though to be honest, if Cho had arrested my family, that would reinforce my father’s belief that I was a traitor.

  Another message arrived when there was a minute left on the clock. It contained an image – it was my father, an older, more angular version of myself. He was standing in an interrogation room. Cho stood beside him and pressed a handgun to his temple.

  “Still think he’s bluffing?” I said, showing the image to Madison. Anxiety exploded in the depths of my stomach, twisting, writhing, trying to consume me.

  “Okay, Jones, let’s assume he isn’t. What difference would that make? We can’t surrender to Cho, regardless of the cost.”

  “What if I hand myself to the Custodians?” My face burned hot as I frantically sought a way to save my father and other family members. What if Cho were to threaten my little sister?

  “How long do you think you’ll last before they force you to reveal everything to them? Where we’ve been hiding, where we hid the weapons, the names of these sympathetic Custodians, even the safe house?” Madison said.

  Another message. I was afraid to look, but steeled my nerves and shaking hands, and glanced at the screen anyway. I saw my father on the floor, blood on the side of his face. My mother was standing in front of him, hands pressed tightly over her mouth. Cho had the gun against her head now. You mother’s next unless you hand yourself over to nearest Custodians within ten minutes.

  I slumped back against my seat, crushed by a tremendous sense of guilt and shame. Did Cho actually shoot an innocent civilian to make me hand myself in? Had my actions led to the death of my father, robbing me of the chance of reconciling with him?

  Nanako laid a comforting hand on my knee. “Message Captain Smithson. Ask him to check if Cho really shot your father.”

  I looked at her, temporarily unable to comprehend her words. When their meaning sunk in, I belted out a message to the captain and sent it off. Each second seemed to stretch for an eternity as I waited for a response.

  Looking into it, Captain Smithson replied.

  “Your father’s alive,” Madison said.

  “The photo–”

  “Photos can be staged.”

  Nanako came to sit beside me and took my hands in hers. I exhaled slowly, overcome with despair. We came here to set the town free from the chancellor, not watch his bullyboys execute our family members one by one. When I said earlier that there would be casualties, I meant amongst the insurgents, not amongst non-combatants.

  Your father’s alive. Cho staged the execution. He took your family into custody hoping to locate your hiding place by interrogating him, the captain replied.

  Images flashed through my mind of brutal Custodians interrogating my father, mother, and sisters, resorting to their trademark heavy-handed methods to make them talk. The thought of them putting the screws on my gentle mother and younger sister, and even my older sister, was more than I could bear. I wondered if he arrested any other families.

  All the same, I was relieved to learn my father was alive. Guilt and tension fled out of me and I sagged back into my seat like a deflating balloon. I read the message aloud.

  “You going to listen to me next time?” Madison said.

  My phone vibrated again. Cho just announced that the insurgents arrested this evening will be executed in five days. He is not bluffing.

  “The captain again?” Nanako asked.

  “Yes. Cho’s going to execute the members of the resistance in five days.” Fear blossomed anew in my stomach and worked its way up my spine and to the back of my neck. I thought of Bhagya, Chelsea, and Anna, and also of the three members of the Freehome Resistance Movement – Mal Li, Ryan and Dylan. Lastly, there were Hong and Badger, members of the Underground. All good people, none of whom deserved to die such pointless, useless deaths.

  “Cho knows your history well, Jones,” Madison said. “He remembers you rescuing Nanako at the last moment when she was slated to be executed. That’s why he’s doing this execution – he knows you’ll try to save them.”

  “I know. But we still have to try, right? We can’t sit back and allow him to execute them. We also have to rescue our families,” I said.

  “Wake up, Jones – it’s a trap. And unlike last time, masquerading as a Custodian isn’t going to work. He’ll be ready for that. Besides, even if we were able to sneak into the Courthouse and rescue them, where would we take them? Where could we hide that many people from three hundred angry Custodians?”

  “So we just let them die?” I said.

  “The only way to save them is to overthrow the chancellor and take control of the Custodians before the five days are up,” she said.

  “Then that’s what we’ll have to do.”

  “And how do you propose we do that with the Freehome Resistance Movement out of the picture? Mal Li said he was going to lead the revolution,” Nanako said.

  Another message arrived, and I almost dropped the phone in surprise when I read it. Ethan Jones, this is the Patriot. I trust my boys have been keeping you safe tonight. In case you have not heard, the revolutionaries arres
ted tonight will be executed in five days. This is a ploy to make you show your hand. However, you should also know that furious activity has been sighted at the chancellery, where many armoured vehicles and a convoy of trucks have gathered. They are being loaded with significant stores of preserved food, water, records, and equipment. Furthermore, a team of engineers is making frantic repairs on the submarine. You know what this means, don’t you?

  “What is it?” Nanako asked.

  “The chancellor has finally revealed his hand. I know how he’s going to spread the virus throughout Australia,” I said.

  “How?” both girls asked.

  “I just got a message from the Patriot. The Koreans are preparing to quit the town and they’re taking the sub with them.”

  “How will that spread the virus?” Nanako asked.

  “What do you think ten thousand people will do when the town is left without power?” Madison replied. “The crops in the greenhouses will wither within days and the chickens in the poultry shed will die. Everyone will have to leave town or die of starvation. And as no single place in Victoria can accommodate them all, they will have to break into smaller groups and go to every town within walking distance.”

  Electricity was used to generate favourable conditions that allowed our vegetables and fruit to grow all year round, regardless of the seasons.

  “But many won’t make it!” Nanako said. “And of those that do, many will be forced to move on because the towns can’t accommodate them.”

  “The chancellor doesn’t care how many die on the way. As long as infected men reach the local towns, the virus will spread through the whole country,” Madison said.

  “But that’s preposterous! It’s wholesale slaughter, nothing less than genocide of a people he’s protected for over a hundred years,” Nanako said.

  “Not protected,” I said. “As Bhagya told me a long time ago, Newhome only exists for the chancellor and his plan of creating a master race of genetically modified Koreans. The rest of the town’s inhabitants are expendable. We’re nothing more than cattle for the slaughter.”

  “How long before the Koreans leave?” she asked.

  “The Patriot reported furious activity at the chancellery. In other words, they know they don’t have much time before the Japanese nuke the place. I reckon we’ve got twenty-four, maybe forty-eight hours tops,” I said.

  “They will release the virus before they go. They must have already done pregnancy trials on the Korean teenagers and seen positive results,” Madison said.

  “I agree,” I said. “And that means we’re out of time. We have to take over the chancellery and the Genetics Laboratory immediately. Tonight.”

  “Tonight? How do you propose we manage that?” Nanako said.

  I picked up my phone. “I’ll explain this to Captain Smithson and the Patriot – they have no choice but to act now.”

  I sent a quick message to the Patriot first. We need to talk. Is it safe to ring you right now?

  Yes, came the almost immediate response.

  I rang the Patriot’s number. Expecting to hear the deep, powerful voice of one used to authority, I was surprised when a man with a high, nasal voice answered the phone.

  “Jones?”

  “Speaking. Thanks for sending your guys to look after us tonight. We owe you one.” I spoke softly so that I couldn’t be heard should a Custodian outside come near to the vehicle.

  “All good. Your team sure made its presence felt tonight. There are several dead bad guys, the town has been placed on lockdown, and every Custodian has been put on active duty in an attempt to find you.”

  “Still, not the result I was looking for. Only three of us got away and the traitor who dobbed us in still at large.”

  “I am sure we will uncover their identity soon enough. Now, what do you make of all that activity around the chancellery and the submarine?”

  “It means we’ve got only one to two days before the Koreans release the virus and quit the town, taking the sub with them.”

  “I concur,” the Patriot said. “What do you propose we do?”

  “We have to attack.”

  “When – tomorrow, tomorrow night?”

  “No. We have to act immediately, within the hour, in fact. With the Custodians spread all over the town doing house to house searches, we’ll never get a better chance.”

  The Patriot coughed and spluttered. “I understand where you are coming from, but what do you propose? We don’t have the resources to take on the Custodians, not even with them spread throughout the town. Otherwise we would have overthrown them years ago.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. What resources do you have available?”

  “There are forty-five Custodians loyal to my movement, as well as eleven Underground cells. These are equipped with handmade bombs and spring-loaded pipe guns.”

  “I was told that some of the Custodians were sympathetic to the Freehome movement.” That’s what Chelsea told us, at any rate.

  “The Freehome movement? A bunch of try-hards lacking the vision and commitment required to achieve any tangible results. I recruited all of the sympathetic Custodians into my movement.”

  “Fair enough. I presume they are currently all over town in their respective units?”

  “Yes,” the Patriot replied. “However, one code word over their radios and they’ll all do whatever I command them to. What is it you propose? You have to know we cannot go head to head with two hundred and fifty Custodians.”

  “What if it’s substantially less than that?”

  “You’re going to blow up Custodian HQ? I thought you didn’t bring any bombs with you?” It didn’t sound like he was opposed to the idea.

  “We didn’t. Listen up…”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~ Chelsea Thomas ~

  I woke to the sound of screaming, shouting, and gunfire. Even though my bleak, dreary cell was well lit, my internal body clock informed me it was the early hours of the morning. I pushed myself off the concrete floor, eyes fixed on the door as I listened to the gun battle in apprehension.

  I heard two single shots and a sustained burst from an Austeyr assault rifle. Three bodies hit the floor in the corridor outside and a man cried out in agony.

  My door was wrenched open and my mouth dropped open when I saw Ethan Jones standing there, accompanied by a Custodian with a white armband. One of Ethan’s team – Shorty – and another similarly adorned Custodian, ran down the corridor behind them. Two more Custodians, these ones without armbands, lay on the floor with blood running from bullet wounds to their throats. A third was kneeling and clutching his upper arm with his other hand.

  Nanako was on her knees beside this one, a med kit next to her as she cut his sleeve open.

  “That’s right, mate, keep pressing on the wound. I’ll get that bandaged up in a jiffy.” She spoke gently, as though tending one of us, not one of the enemy.

  “It hurts like blazes,” the man said between clenched teeth.

  “I know – looks like it went right through. I’ll give you something for the pain in a moment, but I’ve got to stop the bleeding first, okay?”

  Jones snatched an assault rifle from the floor and handed it to me. “Come on, Chelsea. Give us a hand liberating the prisoners and our families. We have to get them out of here before the rest of the Custodians return.”

  Coming to my senses, I grabbed the gun and darted out of my cell. Two more Custodians were slumped on the floor further up the corridor, one with a white armband.

  Shorty – all five-foot-nothing of him – was suddenly in my face, looking up. “Try not to shoot the ones with white armbands, Chelz. They’re on our side.”

  “Figured that out already,” I said, mildly annoyed he called me Chelz. That was my brother’s pet name for me.

  Stepping past him, I hurried to an unopened cell. The name written on the chalkboard beside the door was Dylan Morton. I tugged back the bolt and pushed the door open. My monstrously tall
friend stood at the back of the cell, eyes wide with fear.

  “Come on, we’re out of here,” I said.

  Nodding, he joined me and glanced down the corridor hesitantly, as though expecting to get shot at.

  Liberated from an adjacent cell by one of the friendly Custodians, Bhagya armed herself with a downed Custodian’s weapon. My sister and long time co-conspirator, she ran her eyes up and down my form.

  “Are you alright, Chelsea? Still in one piece?” she asked without the slightest trace of emotion.

  “I’m fine – let’s get these cells open,” I said. I couldn’t answer her question as to whether I was alright. My mind and emotions were still in disarray from lingering doubts about Ryan, as well as guilt towards my father.

  The next three prisoners liberated were Mal Li, Hong and Badger. All were extremely relieved, if not outright surprised to find they had been rescued.

  “You’ve taken over Custodian HQ?” Mal asked.

  “Not yet,” Ethan replied. “They’re still fighting over the control room and reception.”

  “But you’ve taken over the rest of the building? How on earth did you pull it off?”

  “The Patriot got all the Custodians sympathetic to our cause – they’re the ones wearing white armbands – to report to HQ for some reason or another. At the same time, two of the Underground cells attacked the eastern gatehouse with homemade bombs. Thinking it was my unit trying to break out of town, Cho sent all the Custodians in that area to contain the situation. Then, while the Armbands attacked from within, my unit broke into the HQ through the back door. Apart from those defending the control room and reception, the rest never knew what hit them,” Ethan said.

  “You didn’t kill them all, did you?” Mal asked.

  “No, the Armbands got most of them to surrender and handcuffed them to pieces of furniture. We’ll let them go later.”