Killer Edge: Navigator Book Three

by SD Tanner

  “It’s bright enough,” he replied dryly.

  “Maybe, but its operating like a central computer that’s not much smarter than its drones. Remember, a weapon is only as good as its operator. I don’t think the thing in the nest is smart enough to be the operator. You tricked it too easily.” When he gave him a skeptical look, he added intently, “Look, whatever did this was smart enough to know how to transform human cells into what is effectively plastic. It knew to wipe down the population and terrify it before imprisoning it, and it did it all in a massive attack that took place globally in a single day.”

  He’d been so transfixed on dealing with the nest and the critters, he hadn’t thought about the bigger picture, but Jenkins was making sense. If he was right, then there was an enemy greater than the ones they’d seen to date.

  Giving Jenkins a tired look, he asked, “Okay, so where is it? What is it?”

  Standing, Jenkins shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not here yet.”

  “Where is it then?”

  Pointing at the sky, he replied with a smirk, “The truth is out there.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Yellow brick road (Jonesy)

  Although Dean and Ally had taken the survivors to CaliTech, Sean wouldn’t leave his side. Ark was calling for resources to help them assemble weapons and to train as Navigators, but he’d learned from personal experience just how hard it was to move in the gear. The first resource requirement could be delivered by anyone prepared to work hard, but the other needed people who were already fit and able to shoot straight. Deciding to look for the experienced shooters first, he was heading with Sean to the Marine Corps Base in Barstow, California. After his initial reluctance, he was glad Sean was following him around. The Navigator gear drank power, and although he recharged from the truck when they were moving, every chance they had they would also set up their generator.

  After days on the road, they’d fallen into a pattern of responsibilities. While Sean drove during the day, he would sleep in his gear. At night, they would find an isolated building where he would stand watch, while Sean slept and they recharged his spare power packs. As was their habit, tonight they were sharing a tin of stew they’d found inside of a shop in one of the small towns. Sean had set up his small camp stove and heated up the less than appetizing meal.

  Between mouthfuls of lukewarm stew, Sean asked, “So, what is your real name?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t. I’m jus’ makin’ convo.”

  Swallowing his own mouthful of stew, he washed it down with a sports drink they’d also found inside of the store. “It doesn’t matter what my name was. I think your father christened me Knight and it’ll do.”

  Sean snorted disdainfully. “My father ain’t usually good at choosin’ names. I mean, he did call me and my brother Sean and Dean. Not exactly creative, now was it?”

  Despite trying to keep his distance from him, he found himself chuckling sympathetically. “No, it wasn’t.”

  They’d stopped for the night outside of a town called Goodsprings. With small dwellings spread far apart and hidden by the countryside, it wasn’t difficult to find an isolated property. He preferred simple properties. It gave any critters less places to hide, making it easier for him to kill them, and the one they’d chosen for the night was no more than a large trailer. Ark was still in radio contact with him, and although he was never ordered to, he felt obligated to report in at least once a day.

  “Do ya think we’ll find anyone at the base?” Sean asked.

  It didn’t seem likely that anyone would be left at the Marine base, but Ark had suggested he go there to check if anyone had left a message. He supposed it was possible the marines would have let anyone looking for them know where they’d gone. People had left messages fluttering on wide sheets from their balconies in Vegas, so he guessed no one liked to be left outside in the cold alone. It was a long shot to look for a random message at the base, but he didn’t have a better plan. Based on what he could see, the people who hadn’t been imprisoned seemed to have vanished. There were some with the preppers in their shelters, but he had no idea where everyone else had gone. Using his advanced vision, he’d scanned the area around them while they were driving, but hadn’t seen anyone. When he’d spoken to Ark about it, he suggested that maybe the critters were picking off the survivors one by one, and if that were the case then they were losing ground fast.

  “I don’t know what’ll be at the base. Quite probably nothing, but Ark also wants to know what equipment and weapons are left.”

  “Is he in charge now?”

  He supposed Ark was their leader, but he’d assumed that from the moment he’d met him. The guy had a manner about him that spoke of an intense internal struggle that he’d won. Nothing much seemed to phase Ark, and it was his quiet confidence that made most people willing to follow him. He might not care much about his own life, but Ark’s deep determination to fight the critters was making him want to protect the people in CaliTech. As a cop, his commitment had never really been tested, and even he was surprised to find himself swept up by the dedication of Ark and his team.

  “I think he always was the leader.” Scanning the area while he finished his stew, he asked, “Why are you following me around?”

  “You can see the critters and kill ‘em. What’s not to like?” With a cheeky wink, Sean added, “Other than your less than cheerful personality.”

  He had always been known as a big friendly bear of a man, but nowadays he made poor company. “Yeah, well, it’s been a bad few months.”

  “I dunno. It weren’t all that before this shit came down.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “People was always dyin’ of shit and even if they weren’t they acted like they were.”

  He shrugged in his armor. “People always like to bitch about nothing. That way they can think they’ve overcome something.”

  Sean acknowledged his comment with a curt nod. “Yeah, well, we’ve got something to bitch about now and no one is.”

  That was the funny thing about people. They would moan as if their life was hell on earth until it really was. It was only when things went badly wrong that their real priorities came into play. When the daily grind was pushed aside, all that was left was the same need. People wanted to feel safe. In his view, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs wasn’t entirely right. Maslow claimed people needed food and water before they craved anything else, but he believed their need to feel safe came first. Providing a person felt safe, they could find the strength to solve the logistical problems of finding food and shelter. The people they’d freed from the town could have struck out on their own, but they’d been eager for the perception of safety that CaliTech offered. In reality, even with the Navigators, CaliTech was no safer than any other location, but the critters had taken away the people’s belief that they could protect themselves.

  If push came to shove, and it very well might, people would have to give up their need to feel safe. Ark could bring as many high tech weapons to the game as he could muster, but he didn’t think it would win the war. Wars weren’t won by playing it safe. Getting rid of the critters would take every man, woman and child fighting with everything they had.

  “They’re gonna have to do more than moan about the critters.”

  “What do you mean?” Sean asked.

  With a deep sigh, he tossed his empty bowl onto the ground at his feet. “There’s nobody left to save us. If we want to live, then we’ll have to forget about the past and deal with what is.”

  “Don’t you think people are doing that?”

  Like everyone else, Sean couldn’t see he was still living in the past. He’d left CaliTech prepared to die and yet he was still alive. In letting go of everything he was, he’d carved out a new frame of reference for his life, and he no longer remembered his past with any clarity. The man he’d been, the life he’d lived and the people he’d loved were now a distant memory. Every morning, he got up
and dealt with each day, expecting nothing more than a destroyed world filled with brainless killers. It was only when he thought about what should have been that his mind became confused. It was his expectations versus the reality of his world that left him feeling empty. He couldn’t function as a broken man, but once he’d accepted the world as it was, his psyche had settled into a familiar groove. If he expected nothing more than he found, then he could live each day in relative peace.

  “I don’t know what people are doing, but I know what they need to do. If you want to play any game well, you need to focus on it to the exclusion of everything else. Until they accept the world for what it is now, they’ll be behind the game. Acceptance of your situation leads to a steady mind and only then can you make good decisions.”

  Sean collected his bowl from where he’d thrown it and began wiping it clean. “You’re a strange guy, Knight.”

  The next morning they drove the final one hundred and thirty miles to the Marine base. Empty roads, abandoned vehicles and silence greeted them at the main gates. Having spent his life living in the city, he didn’t like the silence and these days it gave him too much time to think. Sean pulled the truck to a stop outside of the security building. On either side of the building was a matching high wall extending only fifty feet before becoming a chain metal fence. A collection of nondescript buildings could be seen in the distance. It wasn’t a large base, and if he hadn’t been told there was a military site behind the wall, he would never have known. The base didn’t interest him and it was Sean who told him what he needed to know. Spray-painted in black lettering along the wall were the words.

  “Go to Fields Landing. Near Eureka. Northern Cali.”

  It appeared Ark had been right and the soldiers had left the world a message. Turning to Sean, he said, “Let’s head back to your shelter.”

  “Why can’t I go with you to Fields Landing?”

  “This is Ark’s show and he should send his nav squad to make contact with them.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Lost Army (Hood)

  A critter exploded out of the dirty ground in front of him and without thinking he fired his .50-cal Beowulf. It had been a wasted trip and now he was fighting for his life. Spike and Eddy were already running for the truck, and he continued firing at the emerging critters to give them cover. Eddy made it to the truck first and immediately swung the M2 machine gun into position, firing over his head. Ducking into a low crouch, he crabbed backwards towards the truck, still firing at the critters that continued to clamber from the dirty ground. One reached out a dusty clawed leg at him and he blew away its orange sized head with a single bullet. While it dropped to the ground, Eddy continued a hail of gunfire that created a wall of bullets, giving him time to tumble into the passenger seat of the truck.

  The country had fallen and no one was inclined to go inland anymore. Critters had taken control of the large cities and they were tunneling, which meant you never knew when one would explode from the earth. Critters were only people who’d turned into something nasty, and he figured they would be better off on an uninhabited island.

  Spike gunned the engine and the small building they’d been planning to explore receded into the distance. Critters didn’t tend to chase moving vehicles, but that wasn’t always true so he and Eddy kept watch.

  Not expecting anyone to reply, he muttered to himself, “Waste of fucking time.”

  They’d found several commercial trawlers and were loading them with all of the supplies they could find, including dried and tinned food, water, gas, tents, batteries, flashlights, cooking pans, camping stoves, propane tanks, guns and ammunition. It would take time to get an island working for them, so they needed to take enough food for three months, plus everything they would need to set up a new base. It was becoming increasingly dangerous to scavenge for what they needed and he would have to call it soon. Only yesterday, they’d lost three people to a surprise attack, and they’d only been five miles from the marina. It was time they left and he was thinking of ordering everyone to sea in the next few days.

  Driving in silence, he fumed at wasting the fuel and ammo on what proved to be a fruitless trip. Spike and his crews had already raided pretty much everything within a fifty-mile radius of the marina. They’d managed to collect a range of heavy and mid-range weapons from local depots and personal stashes, but it wasn’t enough and it never would be. With so many people to keep fed, they simply couldn’t pull together enough supplies.

  Prior to the end of the world, in addition to his deployments, he’d worked in pretty much every area of the Corps. Most civilians thought the military was all guns and fun, but it wasn’t. Being an up and coming Major, he’d been rotated through most of the functions including Logistics. His career planner had assured him the experience would make him a well-rounded officer, but he thought it would just make him a well-bored one. Outside of Personnel, Logistics had been his least favorite assignment, but he supposed his career planner had been right, and he’d put his knowledge to good use.

  Making their way to Fields Landing, Spike parked the truck next to the pier and he climbed out, enjoying the fresh salty air. Walking to the end of the dock, he studied the boats gently bobbing on the water. The sun was leaving sparking trails of light as it slowly sunk into the horizon, and under any other circumstances he was looking at a slice of heaven. Each boat had up to twenty troopers living on it, and it hadn’t taken them long to realize the critters couldn’t swim. Being quite heavy, they didn’t float and with no natural buoyancy, swimming wasn’t an option for them. When any of the people on the boats turned into killers, they would toss them overboard where they would sink like a stone. Critters didn’t drown, so sometimes they would reappear on the shore looking half-human and crazy as all hell.

  Critters couldn’t read either, which was another lucky break. After all hell had broken out in the base he was in, he’d gotten on the radio and told everyone to spread the same message.

  “Go to Fields Landing. Near Eureka. Northern Cali.”

  The dirty wooden planks at the end of the pier were covered in dried salt, and the wind was blowing gently while he continued to stare at the sea and boats without really seeing them. There was no reason why he’d picked this location other than it was the closest harbor he knew to where he was. When people had turned into homicidal maniacs and then into critters, it became obvious that staying land-locked wasn’t a good idea. He’d wanted access to the open waters, figuring he could find a clear island and hunker down, but as more people had found his message it hadn’t worked out that way.

  They didn’t keep an exact manifest of how many people they had, but over eight hundred men, women and children had seen the messages that were left at bases across the country. Every day their number changed. More people arrived, some turned and others left. After a continuous stream of new arrivals, over the past two weeks that number had dwindled to just one or two every few days.

  He’d tried to keep the few families together on the boats and any lost children were assigned to new parents. About five hundred of the people had some military training, but their combat skills and experience varied. Not that it mattered now. He wasn’t trying to build an army anymore. All anyone could do was leave the mainland and find somewhere safe from the critters.

  Standing next to him and looking at the boats, Spike asked, “How are the supply ships?”

  “We’ve found as much as we’re gonna, so we can leave anytime we want.”

  “What about the day after tomorrow?”

  “Suits me.”

  Many of the people who’d joined them were military, active and retired. He’d assigned them into squads of twenty with a lead for each boat. With five hundred troopers plus three hundred civilians, he had about forty mid-sized boats fueled and ready to sail. They’d been planning the trip since the day they’d arrived and now, six weeks later, they were ready to leave. All he had to do was issue the orders to set sail, which he could have done a week ago, but he wa
s hesitating.

  Without looking at Spike, he asked, “Do you really think there’s nothing left?”

  “Hard to say without looking and we can’t do that and expect to survive.”

  “What about the people in the cities?”

  “There’s nothing we can do for them.”

  He wasn’t one to run from a fight, but he wasn’t suicidal either. Staying would be more of the same. Eventually the critter’s tunnels would reach their shores and then they’d have to leave. He figured they could either sail out under their own steam or be pushed from the land by the critters. Neither option appealed to him. Die on land or run. The whole situation sucked and he continued to stare across the water. Daylight was fading fast now and it was time for him to join his own boat for the night.

  “I don’t wanna leave. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “Running from a fight never does,” Spike replied sourly.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Working for the woman (Christine)

  “So, are you interested in working?” Jo asked.

  She’d worked all of her life in one job or another and it should have been an easy question to answer. When she’d graduated from High School, she’d become a waitress, then a barmaid, and had even stacked shelves in the local supermarket. Nothing had ever stuck until she started her own online business selling what amounted to junk. When the world ended, she’d fought alongside the others, killing people she’d known most of her life. They’d tried to kill her first so it wasn’t as if she’d had a choice. After that, she’d been trapped inside of the local diner and almost starved. Eventually the critters had let them out and she’d quickly grown used to being allowed to live in relative safety.