“Ready?” Nils asks.
“Ready,” Stilwell and I reply in unison.
Nils pushes on the controls and our aircar turns side on to Big Red. Almost immediately Big Red opens fire, cannon booming. Less than a second later our aircar jolts as our plating takes the impact. Nils hits a button and the door shoots skyward.
We jump, drop the five feet and hit the ground running. Another boom rings out and our aircar takes a round to the open door and it slams closed.
Stilwell and Nils are close behind me as we sprint towards the end of the road. My eyes dart left and right, looking for maybe a quicker way out.
Another shot rings out, followed in quick succession by another. Seconds later shrapnel rains down around us. I chance a look back over my shoulder and there is little left of our aircar. Big Red must be able to see us.
“They’re coming,” I shout and pump my legs harder, trying to put as much ground between me and it as possible.
Another boom. This time much closer but I don’t stop running. The projectile whistles overhead and second later slams into the debris up ahead on my left.
Concrete and dirt spew into the sky, and when the dust clears, I can see he’s done us a favor. He’s punched a gap we’ll be able to get through.
“Down there,” I shout back to Nils and Stilwell.
My feet skid in the dirt as I take the sharp turn through the wall. Nils and Stilwell almost crash together behind me, but recover and follow me in.
The other side is a dark, open space. The inside of an old building. Only a small amount of light spills in from outside through the newly formed gap in the wall.
“Where now?” Nils says, looking around.
“That way,” Stilwell shouts and points at and old set of stairs leading up.
We take off as a group, sprinting the short distance to the stairs. What little light there is disappears, and I look back to the gap in the wall. Through the gloom I can make out a single color.
Red.
Nils and Stilwell are ahead of me. I can’t see where I’m going but I don’t have time for caution. I resume my run up the stairs just as an explosion rings out.
Big Red must have fired into the building. My hearing disappears and I’m turned deaf. I keep running, bounce off a wall and realize the stairs have turned. My hearing returns but only as a high-pitched whine.
Another turn and I can see Nils and Stilwell at the top. They’re backlit from somewhere, though by what I don’t know.
“This way,” Nils beckons me to hurry. I can’t hear him but can make out the words on his lips.
As I get to the top, they take off again. An old exit, the door long since gone, leads onto what now passes as the roof of the building. I run to the side facing the street and look down.
Sure enough, Big Red is there with its cannon pointing into the building.
Nils and Stilwell are by the far edge, looking for a way down. They’re shouting something to each other but the ringing in my ears drowns everything out.
This time I feel the explosion through my boots rather than hear it. Nils and Stilwell turn and look to where I’m standing and they’re shouting and pointing. I wiggle a finger in my ear to clear it but it doesn’t do any good.
I shrug at them and mime that I can’t hear when it becomes obvious what they were trying to say.
The piece of building I’m standing on topples forwards towards the street. I look around desperate for something to grab on to but there’s nothing.
The concrete beneath me gives way and I follow it, crashing to the street.
Except we miss. The slabs of concrete topple onto the top of Big Red. I follow them less than a second later, my shoulder slamming against a rough chunk.
I pass out for a second.
The blackness in front of my eyes clears and I’m looking up at Nils and Stilwell on the edge of the roof. My head and shoulder are killing me. With every part of me aching I sit up and check my shoulder. It’s not bleeding which is a good sign.
Smoke pours out of the building now but the aircar I’ve landed on doesn’t move to leave. Maybe they’re waiting for the smoke to clear?
When I look up again, Nils is trying to tell me something by mime. He sticks his arm out and fires it like a cannon. Then makes an “O” shape with one hand, and with the other stuffs a chunk of concrete in the “O”.
I think I understand. There’s plenty of concrete around so I grab a piece I think will do the job. I ease myself to my feet, my legs and body complaining the whole time. The cannon is still pointing into the building and I step carefully over to it.
The end of the barrel ends only a foot or so past the side of the aircar. I grip it under one arm as I stretch forward, concrete chunk in hand. I squeeze my eyes tight, hoping they don’t choose this moment to fire and with everything I’ve got I slam the chunk of concrete into the end of the barrel.
It fits... kind of. It jams in tight so it’ll do the job. I look up at Nils who gives me the thumbs up and is waving at me to move away. I give him the thumbs up to let him know I understand and move to the far side.
Nils and Stilwell throw down hunks of concrete at the aircar. The cannon twitches and even though I still can’t hear anything I block my ears and crouch down, facing away from what I think is about to happen.
The shockwave hits me and I stumble from my crouch. I throw my hand forward and steady myself so I don’t fall over. I turn my head to see the damage. Smoke pours from the obliterated cannon and into the sky.
I feel a heavy thunk through my boots and the door to the aircar rises, letting out even more smoke. How the hell are these guys still alive? I look up at Stilwell who has that manic grin on his face again, like when he found the grenade belt.
It takes me a second to realize this was the aim of the plan. In each hand he holds a gleaming steel grenade. His thumbs flick something on the top of them and they pulse with a deep, red light. Stilwell looks at the grenades then down at the aircar.
He raises his right arm and hurls the first grenade through the open door. Without missing a beat he casually tosses the final grenade from his left hand to his right and repeats his first throw.
I plug my ears with my fingers and wait for the explosions.
Two big thumps and I’m falling through the air again. I open my eyes a split second before my body slams back-first into the ground. Stars fill my eyes for a second until the pain clears.
The aircar I was on lists heavily to one side on the verge of flipping over. That explains why I fell off then.
No time to stand. My hands and feet scrabble through the dirt and rocks to get me clear of this thing before the inevitable. I’ve just noticed that during all of this my hearing returned to more than the high-pitched ringing.
As I get out from under it, the aircar completes its flip. It crashes to the ground. Dust and rock explode everywhere, and with a final whine and a shudder its engines shut off. I remember the guns strapped to my hips. One is missing, but the other is still there.
I pull it, cock it, and aim it at the twisted and burnt gaping maw in the side of the aircar. Ages pass with no movement. Stilwell and Nils appear by my side and tell me we’re safe. My arm drops and I crash back onto the ground.
“You okay?” Nils asks.
“Every part of me aches, and I just want to lie here for a while,” I say, not bothering to open my eyes to look at him.
Nils and Stilwell grab me under my arms and heft me along the ground. I complain at them, my body is too sore. They prop me against a slab of concrete in the shade.
“Don’t want you to burn in the sun,” Nils says. I open one eye and give him a lopsided smile. He hands me his canteen.
“Thanks,” I say. It comes out croaky. Even my voice hurts.
“Rest up,” Stilwell says. “Me and Nils are going to check out what’s left of the aircars. See if there’s anything we can salvage that’ll make our lives easier.”
I give them a weak thumbs up and
go back to lying in pain with my eyes closed.
The next time I open my eyes it’s night time. Stars twinkle at me from their inky black canvas and for a moment I don’t feel sore. To my right come murmurs of quiet conversation and the low crackle of a fire.
When I turn my head, my neck muscles scream at me. I think this is about as far as I’ll move for now.
“How you doing over there?” Nils calls, seeing I’m now awake.
“I want to say I’m better, but it’d be a lie.”
Nils shuffles through a bag at his feet and pulls out a small, plastic bottle. They’ve scrounged gear from our wreck, and from the looks of it weapons from the others.
“I wanted to give you these earlier, but you had passed out and I didn’t want to wake you,” he says. He leaves his seat by the fire and walks over to me.
“What are they?” I ask as he tips the contents of the bottle into his palm.
“Pain meds. Thought you could use them,” he says and holds out his hand. I pick up three pills and dry-swallow them.
“Thank you,” I say. “Any luck with the aircars?”
“Nah, they’re trashed,” he says, tipping the remaining pills back into the bottle. “Found some of our gear and a bunch of weapons though.”
Stilwell holds up what I suspect is some kind of gun. It’s at least half as big as he is, and as wide as his leg.
“Damn,” I say. “It’s impressive, but if we’ve got no aircar it’ll be hard to carry.”
“Yeah, I know,” Stilwell says dejectedly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t dream though.” He rubs a hand along the barrel and looks lovingly at the gun.
“Need a moment alone?” I ask, smirking.
Stilwell doesn’t stop what he’s doing, only sighs and replies, “I’d need more than a moment.”
Given what we’ve been through today we decide it’s best if we rest here for the night and start our journey again in the morning.
Nils had some good fortune when he checked our aircar for anything useable. The homing device that’ll lock onto the beacon when we get close to the wall was still working, which means we won’t need to spend days trying to find the way in.
We stay up talking by the fire for a few hours before exhaustion overcomes us and we crash out. For the first time in ages I don’t dream of anything, and when I wake in the morning I’m feeling much better than I did yesterday.
After a quick breakfast of protein bar, we gather our things and head off into the Badlands once more. The early morning sun at our back casts our shadows long across the ground, and we trudge on.
Another night passes and another full day of walking. We’ve been fortunate that we haven’t run into any more psychos out here, but the apparently endless Badlands is taking its toll on us. When the sun finally sets I ask Nils if he has any idea how much further we have to walk.
He shakes his head and looks at the device in his hand. Aisha said we need to be within five miles of the beacon for the device to lock on. I can only hope we’re getting closer.
We walk on for another hour, discussing how much longer we want to push on when the device comes alive in Nils’ hand. It squawks out an electronic noise, and the reading on screen gives us direction and distance.
“Only four and half more miles, dead ahead!” Nils shouts.
Nobody even has to ask. We keep walking towards the beacon.
In the distance the wall of the western city creates a blackness that stretches to the horizon. Above and beyond it stands the city. Few buildings are lit up this close to the wall, but plenty of light spills out from further in.
The beacon leads us to the collapsed remains of a building and I’m overtaken by dread and foreboding. I’d blocked out the thoughts until now, but being this close to our target makes me think back.
We enter the building, picking our way over hunks of rock. Of course we must go to the one place I’ve been dreading. Underground, where to my dismay we find the one thing I never wanted to see again.
“Damn,” I say.
The mouth of the tunnel stares back at me. Its gaping, silent void every bit as terrifying as the one we left way back east.
Nils and Stilwell stand behind me, not saying a word. I’m sure they know what’s running through my mind.
“Take as much time as you need,” Nils says.
I stand rooted to the spot and try to get my breathing under control.
9 - Echo
It’s been two days now since I last saw any trace of Kara. Since then, Jameson has been keeping me close, and it’s taking every ounce of my energy not to lash out. The second he works out I’m not the obedient daughter he created anymore my life will be over.
The information my data recovery program has been returning is mostly useless. Pages and pages of data about failed tests. It means my program is working as it should. It’s sifting out anything meaningful and returning only the garbage.
At first Jameson was excited by the data being recovered, but as the program returns more and more junk the less interested he is. Earlier today he snapped.
“This is taking too long!” he shouted at everyone within range.
I was sure he was seconds away from doing something terrible, so I jumped in to save everyone.
“I’ll take another look at my code, sir,” I said, and he wheeled around and glared at me. “Perhaps I’ll be able to refine some of it. It’s delivering results, just so far fairly meaningless. I’ll go over my code again and see if there’s anything I can improve.”
His eyes burned into mine but I stood there, unblinking. After what felt like an age passed he blinked and looked away and stormed from the room.
“Do it,” he shouted over his shoulder. “I want results.”
So because I backed myself into a corner I now need to refine my code to return better data. I’m sure there must be a middle ground I can find. Data that’s kind of useful without giving him enough to recreate the X-71 poison.
It’s late in the evening before Jameson returns. He walks straight over and looks at my screen for any new data.
“How’s the update going?”
Before I can answer, an urgent alert flashes on my screen. I acknowledge it with a tap and I’m looking at security feed of a stairwell. Three people are sitting on the stairs and from their posture they look like they’re resting.
“Who are they?” Jameson demands.
I tap the footage and swipe my finger along the screen. The feed from the camera reverses to a point where the trio is walking up the stairs.
I pause the playback and my jaw drops. Walking in front of two men, covered in dirt and looking much worse for wear, is Kara.
Jameson curses and slams his fist onto the screen. A crack radiates out from the impact.
“That incompetent Jacobs, I should have known better than to trust his judgment.” He turns his attention to me. “Unfortunately he’s the closest team available. He’s here on assignment for... something unrelated,” he says.
I’m used to Jameson being cagey by now so I don’t think too much of it. If he wanted me to know he’d tell me.
“Get Jacobs to retrieve the targets and bring them back here himself,” he says, his upper lip curling into a sneer. “I’ll deal with him then.”
“Sir, I request that I’m part of the retrieval team,” I say and am sure most of the people within earshot inhale in shock. I press on, regardless. “Let me help take them down. I’ve done most of the work finding them. I’d like to see it through personally.”
Jameson’s sneer drops and his expression changes to one almost like shock with a hint of uncertainty. Damn. I hope I haven’t pressed my luck too far.
The room is dead quiet. In my periphery I can see everyone standing stock still, not daring to do anything that might turn Jameson’s wrath against them.
He agrees with the slightest of nods.
“Make sure he knows you’re in charge. At least with you there I can trust the job gets done correctly,” he say
s.
Whatever Captain Jacobs and his team were up to must have been nearby, because by the time I reach the landing bay they are already there, waiting. Captain Jacobs stands about halfway between me and the aircar.
I don’t break stride as I pass him. The Fox surname is all I need to keep him in line, and he doesn’t say a word, just marches along behind me.
“Captain,” I say over my shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You should know my father is none too happy about your results. Let’s not make the same mistakes again.”
“Certainly, ma’am,” he says as we arrive at the aircar. His team is inside waiting and tooled up with all kinds of weapons.
“And stop calling me ma’am. Miss Fox will do fine,” I say as I step inside the aircar and take my seat.
“Of course, Miss Fox,” Captain Jacobs replies. He takes the seat next to me then presses a button. The door to the aircar closes, and seconds later we’re airborne.
“Do you have a lock on the targets?” I ask.
“Yes, ma-Miss Fox.” Captain Jacobs turns his wrist and I can see a live feed from inside the building. Behind Kara there’s a large number ‘5’ painted on the wall.
Kara and her friends haven’t moved along at all, which is a little weird.
“Is this a capture or kill mission, Miss Fox?”
“Capture for now, Captain Jacobs. I don’t want them harmed. We want them alive for interrogation. I need to find out what the hell they’re up to. Why they’re trying to sneak their way back in.”
Captain Jacobs relays the ‘Capture’ order to the rest of his team and they reply in unison, “Understood.”
“You should arm yourself, just in case,” Captain Jacobs says. In his hand he’s holding a gun in a leather pouch. It seems small when compared to the one his men are carrying. “Keep that on your hip. It might just save your life.”
I take it from him, nod my thanks then strap on the gun.
Less than ten minutes have passed since my program identified Kara in the stairwell. I check the security feed on my wrist comms and they’re still there. Why aren’t they moving? They look like they’re resting and chatting.
Boneyards & Badlands: The Complete FTW Series Page 21
