Legacy Of Ashes

by Ric Beard

  “I think you’re looking for someone else.”

  Morgan sighed.

  “Then I’ll take my leave.” He nodded at the man behind Sean. “Take the samples, and then inject some air into his veins.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Morgan donned a hat that matched his suit and turned to go.

  “What happens if the blood isn’t enough?” Sean asked.

  “I have it on good authority that blood or tissue should work.”

  “Based on what?”

  “It’s not like it’s naturally occurring. You’re not a god, Mister Stone. I have struck a deal with the researchers at a local lab. They assure me that blood and tissue should tell my researchers what they need to know. They are all too eager to be part of the biggest discovery in the history of mankind.”

  “Except that if they’re just reverse engineering it, they’re not really discovering it, at all. Are they?”

  “No one will know that little tidbit, Mister Stone. Besides, who cares?” He threw up a palm in an effeminate flurry. “We’ll still be the only ones with the technology, won’t we?”

  “Keep telling yourself that. But you know a lot less than you think you do. You can kill me, but people are going to come for you, you uppity, sanctimonious prick.”

  “Your lies will not serve to save you here, Mister Stone. You’re a known loner.”

  Morgan turned and pulled open the sliding steel door, peeked out onto the street in both directions, and closed it behind him.

  The other man was standing next to him, holding a syringe.

  “Please don’t struggle. It will only serve to make you suffer.”

  Sean chose not to struggle.

  He watched as the blood he’d protected for all his life filled the vial.

  The man removed the vial and prepared another. Then the sliding door at the end of the warehouse flung open. Sean and the blood collector swiveled their heads toward the door.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  I Should Know Better

  A figure stood in the doorway holding some kind of pistol that belonged in a Buck Rogers cartoon. The snow was falling in large flakes behind him. He was short with a wiry build and wore goggles with a strap that fastened them to his head beneath a fedora. His black outfit was synthetic, padded, and seemed to shimmer in the dim, natural light of the warehouse. It was like the one Jenna wore, though he obviously lacked her curvaceous appeal.

  “Drop the syringe, put the vial on the floor, and take a few steps back. I swear, you so much as flinch in the wrong direction, and I’ll burn you. I haven’t decided which piece of you—yet.”

  Sean knew that voice. He’d just heard it hours earlier in the mountains.

  The man with the syringe glanced at Sean and then back at the figure wearing the goggles and hat. Then he bent down, dropped the syringe, and placed the vial on the floor.

  “I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Then I’m going to help keep you out of trouble.” Lucian hit him over the head with the butt of the gun, grabbed his lab coat to soften his fall, and lowered him to the ground, wincing under the man’s weight, even though he was slim.

  Lucian limped across the floor, favoring one side with his free hand. He pulled out a folding knife and cut the rope connected to the pulley that led to Sean’s raised hands. Sean’s weight dropped from his toes to his heels. He dumped onto his backside and looked up.

  “Shouldn’t you be with a doctor? You look like shit.”

  “Jenna said nothing was cracked. She gave me the requisite amount of shit about coming, but she saw I wasn’t wavering. After all the shit I’ve been through in the last week or so, I’m seeing this through.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Doing recon. Trying to get me troop counts so we can help the city. Are your legs asleep?” Lucian cut the bindings that linked Sean’s feet to the steel loop on the floor and slipped the knife back into his pocket.

  “Maybe you should’ve asked that before you cut my hands free and dropped my weight on them.” Sean started kicking his legs to get the circulation going. He smiled up at Lucian. “Feels like my blood is heavy.”

  Lucian returned the smile and considered Sean.

  “You’re right, I should know better. Some woman cut me down from a pole a few days ago. She had the sense to hold me up though. But don’t worry, I learn from my mistakes. Next time, I’ll get it right.”

  “You jabber on like you did 100 years ago,” Sean slapped circulation back into his legs. “What woman? What pole?”

  “Stories for a later time.”

  Sean pushed himself to his feet and jumped up and down a couple times.

  “You’re resilient. Like Miranda.”

  Sean felt a pang of loss along with the irony that she was the only one of the four subjects at his parents’ lab who hadn’t survived the world’s transition into hell. Knowing she was dead for certain, even after all these lifetimes, almost made the wound fresh.

  “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Lucian asked.

  “You like hearing me say it? Dead. D.C. riots, you said?”

  “Oh, I said she was in D.C. when the riots broke out, but I didn’t say she was dead.”

  Sean was dumbstruck. He tried to grab Lucian’s suit but couldn’t seem to gain purchase anywhere. So, he just barked at him.

  “Are you saying my sister is alive?”

  Lucian cringed as he raised his hands and stepped back from Sean. “Yeah! She’s alive! What the hell dude. Control your paws.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “Because I didn’t know her status at that point. I hadn’t talked to her in days and we’d just started a new, aggressive phase. Can you imagine how it would suck if I told you she was alive and then she got popped before you got a chance to see her? I got a message from her a while ago, though. So, now I’m telling you. Seems she’s been through some shit. But now her mission is winding down and she needs to leave the city. She just has to do one last job and say her goodbyes.”

  Alive! Miranda was alive!

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s wrapping up a mission she’s been working on for six years, Sean. I can’t let you get in the way. But I’m hoping you’ll see her soon. That’s another reason Marie—Jenna—and I didn’t let the cat out of the bag yet. I haven’t even told her you’re here.”

  Six years? What has she been doing for six years?

  “I asked you to trust me, and I’m asking again. We need to secure our situation here and get out of the city.”

  As they were tying the guy in the white coat to the same pulley, Sean looked over at Lucian.

  “I thought you couldn’t risk coming to town.”

  “Don’t hold it against me, but I put a tracker on you when we hugged in Asheville, just to keep you in my sight.” Lucian shrugged. “Call me paranoid.”

  “I can hardly hold it against you when it just saved my ass.”

  “Glad you can see it objectively.” He pulled on the rope tied around the other man’s wrist and winced.

  “Still in pain?”

  “Jenna gave me some meds from her stash, but they’re not very powerful. I had to keep my wits.”

  Lucian tried to hoist the rope, but he stopped, grabbed his ribs, and dropped to the ground. The blood thief came to and flinched as if he would go for Lucian’s gun, but Sean took two steps, and kicked him in the face. Then he grabbed the pulley, yanked it hard, and raised the unconscious man off the floor.

  “You okay?” Sean grunted as he tied the end of the rope to a pole.

  “Sure. Just give me a second.”

  “We should probably gag him.” Sean twirled his shoulders, trying to get the circulation flowing.

  “There’s nothing around here. This area’s undeveloped. That’s why I felt okay about coming out here. No cameras.”

  “Right. Did you see which way that weird looking guy went?”

&nbs
p; “Yeah, left out the door and then left again. Thinking about a little revenge?”

  “He knew a lot about my past out West. He’s been working with this woman in OK City. Now I know why she wanted me here. They set me up, so I had to leave.”

  “Mmm. Morgan. The mayor’s chief aide. You aren’t going to be safe here any time soon. He has access to the Security Services on a whim.”

  “Are they the cops?”

  “They are more like militarized police, lately.”

  “Okay, so they’re powerful cops.”

  “Yup. Dead on.”

  “Great.”

  “What have you been up to out West?” Lucian asked. “And how much of it did Morgan know?”

  “The first question is for a conversation at a later date. But he knew things I didn’t think were public knowledge, like he’d read a history of me.”

  “Not good.” He looked away from Sean. “Okay, I’ve already been in the city for too long, and I need to get back out. I’m betting JenCorp has already started looking under the hood of that truck you drove into town?”

  “Safe bet.”

  “Did they pay you?” Lucian asked.

  “Yeah, shot a thing in my wrist.”

  “Yeah, I have about thirty of those things in my wrists. Right arm is for daily stuff, left arm is for emergencies.”

  “Nice.”

  “How much did they pay you?”

  “Why, you going to steal it?”

  “You can’t steal it.”

  “That’s what Jensen said.”

  “The rig was for JenCorp, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, I guess they’re going to pay Alexandra for the right to duplicate it for the forces here.”

  “You know Alexandra, too?”

  “Yeah, the CEO for HoverTech in OK City. But that’s more of a front, according to Jenna. She’s an underhanded bitch who bought the job with the proceeds from illegal enterprises she runs in the shadows.”

  “I’m surprised you know who she is.”

  “That bitch is dangerous,” Lucian said. “How much did they pay you?”

  “Six hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Holy shit! That’s a crazy payday. Hell, you’re rich. Do me a favor, and don’t trust the banks with it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we don’t know if the banks are going to be here tomorrow. Have you been paying attention?”

  “Yes, smart ass. I told Jensen he might want to warm up the truck because of the badlanders.”

  “Good, maybe the city’s moving already. So you going after Morgan?”

  “Yeah, I don’t get the impression that a lot of people here know about me. Right now, he doesn’t know I’m free and I’d like to get the drop on him before he starts expecting the samples this asshole was supposed to collect.” He motioned to the blood thief.

  “Leave your legend in the Old West where it belongs. Good call. I was thinking the same.”

  Sean thought about the archiver Morgan mentioned who was out west collecting his story for publication but decided not to bring it up. There probably wasn’t anything to be done about it.

  “Morgan is a conniving bastard. He reeks of self-interest. I think it’s why the mayor likes him—that, and the way he has managed to keep the mayor in office, he has to be a political genius. We’ve had our eyes on him for a while, but recently he got his eyes on one of us, and I think he needs to be wiped. I could get Lexi to clean him up on her way out.”

  “Who’s Lexi?”

  “Long story.”

  “Well, I think I’ll clean this one up myself. I’ve about had it with people taking control of my destiny. I’ve been passive for long enough. This guy seems like a good start to my turning over a new leaf. So can I meet with you outside the city later?”

  “You’re one of us, Sean. The only reasons I didn’t take you into the compound when we were in Asheville was because of the woman you had with you and the vehicle. According to Jenna, the woman had to make it here to expose the mayor. Hell, that’s half our mandate. She can make noise, whereas we’re not from here and don’t want the attention. Plus, we wanted you to get the truck here because it might actually help defend the city.”

  “What about Alexandra?”

  “She’s suffering. Some sort of degenerative disease, but we can’t find any records in their medical databases and don’t know the extent of it.”

  “You hack their databases?”

  “We hack a lot of shit. But they’re keeping her information on the down low. Lots of private and less public healthcare.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We intercepted a press conference she did about her company’s new line of hover bikes two years ago. Jenna spotted a radiation burn on her skin. She’s a doctor, you know?”

  “Jenna’s a doctor?”

  “She didn’t finish medical school or anything. The world went to shit first. But when we laid our plans after the world went to shit, that’s the role she took. I would love to tell you how we went about the information gathering and building our systems and all, but that’s a story for a time when I’m not hopping to get the hell out of dodge.

  “When you’re done with your business here, we’re going to get you out of the city. Understand, you kill Morgan, and you might never be able to come back. You most certainly are going to get caught on camera, and in this city, that’s it for you. The penalty for murder is excommunication, so if worst comes to worst and they grab you, just survive the holding cells for a few weeks while they prepare to try you. Trials are quick and dirty under Vaughn. But Morgan is his guy. Don’t piss off any guards if you go inside.”

  Sean thought of being in a holding cell for weeks. “They aren’t grabbing me.”

  “Good. Can’t wait to get you to the compound.”

  “Where’s your compound?”

  “Actually, it’s kind of your compound. It’s on the site where your parents took you on vacation when you were a kid.”

  “The cabin? Are you shitting me?”

  “Here.” He handed Sean a plain black ball cap. “Even with the strong camera technology, we find something as simple as a ball cap to be an effective tool. It keeps them from performing identifications until a controller notices and sends a bot after you.”

  “Yeah, Jenna gave Reagan one. But the cameras wouldn’t know me anyway. Is that a problem?”

  “They didn’t scan you at the gate?”

  “Nope, special orders. They waved me right through.”

  “Hmm, Morgan’s work. Ok, so if they tag you, it will be as unidentified. That’s worse. Wear it low.”

  “Roger,” Sean said.

  “I’d head for City Hall if you want to find Morgan,” Lucian said. After giving Sean directions, he turned and walked toward the doors. “Keep yourself alive so you can see your sister.”

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Rife With Self-Interest

  Reagan couldn’t tell for sure if the red-haired woman standing off to one side of the stage was watching her because she had her SmartGlass shades dimmed. That would be Shaw—Kade’s partner in The Underground, the woman Reagan trained with briefly what seemed like a lifetime ago. Lexi wore a sidearm, and her hands dangled loosely at the sides of her padded body suit. Judging from the bruises and a laceration under her right eye, someone had done a number on her.

  She was protection detail for Mikael Jensen. Considering Shaw’s role, a woman like Reagan wearing a cap pulled down low with her SmartGlasses tinted to hide her face would look suspicious. So Reagan kept her arms folded in front of her and stood still while she watched the two men pontificate on the future of the city-state. Reunions were nice and all, but this wasn’t the time if she didn’t want her father to know she was alive. This reunion would be on Reagan’s terms.

  “Expanding our frontiers, expanding our businesses, and combining our technological resources with our neighbors to the west is the only thing that makes sense,�
�� Mikael Jensen was saying. “Your policies are rife with self-interest. Your thirst for power clouds your judgment and blinds you entirely from the will of the people.”

  Applause filled City Hall. The mayor held up a hand, as if it would somehow abbreviate the applause, but there was no noticeable effect. To Reagan, he looked heavier, his hair was almost completely gray. She looked across to the edge of the stage. Shaw was gone. She scanned the audience and found her, standing at the edge of the crowd, looking toward the exit door.

  “And what about our security?” Vaughn said. “If we open the roads to the west, who will guarantee the safety of our citizens who travel to OK City? You? Do you think we have limitless resources? That we can conquer a thousand miles of real estate with a city of marauders standing in our path?”

  The crowd yelled a single syllable of awe and then went silent.

  “Yes!” Vaughn continued. “Apparently, our neighbors did nothing to secure the largest old-world city between Triangle City and their own home, and badlanders have moved in and taken up arms. They’ve even built walls!”

  Reagan looked around again. Shaw was twenty feet to her left. The lenses were no long shaded. She eyed Reagan directly, not bothering to shift her gaze away when their eyes met.

  Reagan’s heart rate ticked up.

  “Yes, of course!” Mikael said, tapping his Tab and setting it on his podium. He raised a hand for emphasis. “If what you say is true, it makes perfect sense to blame the neighboring city who is still out there clearing the roads for not having secured a city that is closer to us than it is to them.”

  There was a unified chuckle in the veranda. Shaw was just a few feet away. Her lips were moving, sending orders to her team through a throat microphone, probably a Bluetooth implant.

  Reagan slowly stepped backward, moving ever so slightly to get some distance. She couldn’t allow herself to be picked up or even questioned by security right now. One scan of her face, and who knew what alerts might be generated? She was the M.I.A. daughter of the mayor.