Nano Z (Book 3): Oblivion

by Brad Knight

  A trick. The leader of the Alpha's watched as it's brethren died a gruesome and violent death. Immediately it crushed the remaining vials of the mystery serum in it's hand. Those it took from the 787 before crashing it was all the genuine serum it had left. That meant it only had a couple of days before it and it's remaining fellow Alphas died. Luckily, the Alpha assigned to strike Haven wirelessly reported some promising news.

  All they had to do was find Mack.

  Chapter 16

  : The Wasteland

  The mood between Amber and Mack was somber as they headed inland, away from the beach house. They could still see the black smoke rising up into a partly cloudy sky. It was from the crudely constructed funeral pyre that Stephanie's corpse was burned on top of.

  At least we didn't leave her to rot. We gave her that much. As hard as it was, Mack tried to stay focused on the task at hand, which was formidable.

  Not only were he and Amber on foreign soil in a landscape they knew nothing about, but they were also in a fairly sparse area. The majority of the Australian population lived on the eastern shore of the continent (which neither of them knew). That meant they were less likely to run into humanoid infected but also less likely to come across any resources.

  “Australia is pretty well populated right? We should be able to find some supplies,” said Mack in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence. Part of him wanted Amber to respond, confirming his hopes. It would also reassure him that she was okay.

  Amber stared at the ground and literally kicked rocks as she walked. Losing Stephanie hit Mack hard, but it hit the teen harder.

  Maybe I should've let her be a kid. Maybe she'd be able to let it all out instead of trying to be tough in front of me. Mack knew that Amber was suppressing a lot of emotion. She let some out back in front of the beach house but there was a lot more boiling inside of her.

  We need something to distract us. Something. Anything. Wait, is that…? They had walked for almost two hours before Mack spotted a building. It's size was hard to determine from far away.

  “Over there!” he pointed at the distant structure. Amber barely looked up before turning her gaze back to the sandy dirt.

  Mack had lived in Dallas for years before the outbreak. It was considered pretty hot and arid by most American standards. That said, Australia was a whole different story. Though not too hot at that time of year, it was dry. There were very few trees or green plant life to be seen. Most of the vegetation came in the form of shrubs or inhospitable bushes.

  The topography made up for the wasteland like characteristics of the Northern Australian expanses. Not unlike Arizona back in the States, there were beautiful rock formations, and the colors of the rock and soil were rich and vibrant. There was a beauty to the wasteland that was almost hypnotic.

  When they got closer, Mack realized the building was pretty small and was more like a shack. There were emblems on it with “Australian Ranger Federation” wrapped around them.

  Mack went inside the ranger station. Surprisingly it was relatively untouched by the elements. He found some maps, a backpack, some water and a first aid kit. Inside the kit was some gauze, antiseptic spray, bandages, alcohol and rubber tubing used for IVs.

  Happy with what he was able to salvage, he returned to Amber who sat outside forlornly. He handed her one of the bottles of water he found. As she drank he unfolded one of the maps.

  Getting his bearings, Mack saw that they were just outside a place called Karumba. That wasn't important. What was important was the Norman River which was only a few miles to the west. If they started walking he figured the two of them could reach the river in an hour.

  Follow the river and find the remains of civilization. Mack's mind was made up as to where he and Amber needed to go. He might not have had a long term plan, but figuring out their next move was a much needed minor victory.

  “Hey kiddo, come over here. Take a look.” Mack tried to show her the map, but she wasn't interested. Instead she stared off at the landscape.

  Mack sighed. “You know I had to do it right?” he said. Amber didn't answer. “She was infected and would have eventually tried to kill us. She would have tried to kill you.”

  “Would you do the same to me if I was infected?”

  What kind of question is that? I don't know what I'd do. Mack took too long to answer. Amber got up and stormed away.

  Shit. Mack quickly and clumsily folded the map back up and put it in his pack. He got up and ran over to her.

  “I know you're mad at me. But you're going the wrong way. You don't have to talk to me but at least head in the right direction. Deal?” Mack got in front of her.

  “Fine.” Amber rolled her eyes and changed direction according to the where Mack pointed.

  The Norman River was a serpent made of water that cut through the sand and dirt of Queensland. Upon reaching it, both their moods lightened. Especially since they were lucky enough to come across a small boat on the banks.

  Mack examined the vessel for any holes or leaks that might sink it. Amber doused herself in bug spray due to his insistence that she did so every couple of hours. The same thing wouldn't happen to her that happened to Stephanie, if he could help it.

  This should do. Satisfied with the state of the boat, Mack prepared to launch it. He'd seen enough survival programs on television to know that it was always a good idea to follow water. Sure they could have followed the coast eastward instead, but he chose the river.

  “This stuff smells awful,” complained Amber as she stepped out of the cloud of bug spray she immersed herself in. “Is that how this stuff works? It smells so bad that not even mosquitoes can stand it.”

  “That smell means it's working,” he answered without thinking. What does that even mean? “I think it's okay. Let's get going.” He took out the oars from a compartment on the boat. It had an engine but without gasoline that was useless. Upon boarding the vessel he figured out how to detach the needless extra weight.

  He helped Amber on to the boat, then with one of the oars he pushed off the river bank. And they were off, down the Norman River. Where they were going? They didn't know. But that was how things were those days, aimless.

  ***

  The Norman River provided a scenic route inland. Brownish green water was flanked on both side by overhanging trees. It was in stark contrast to the wasteland that Mack and Amber crossed to get to the body of water.

  Birds chirped from the trees and flew overhead. Frogs could be heard calling out in their unique guttural way. Amber even spotted some fish in the water over the side of the boat. Both she and Mack wished that they didn't have to paddle and could just take in the scenery.

  Mack had to fight against a current but he didn't mind. It was worth the extra work. Plus it gave them both more time to clear their heads and try to push the sadness of Stephanie's passing to the back of their mind. Nothing's better for burying feelings than physical labor.

  Time passed and the sun got lower and lower. Since mother nature has one hell of a sense of humor, that meant that the day actually got hotter. A cool breeze up off the Norman River made things easier, but that breeze was accompanied by mosquitoes, biting flies and numerous other flying pests. Other than paddling, most of their time was slapping at any exposed skin.

  Amber daydreamed about a life that never was and could never be. She imagined a house or cabin out in the middle of the woods. It was somewhere remote without even so much as roads. And there was a stream full of crystal clear water teeming with fish who literally jumped out begging to be caught.

  In Amber's dreams she saw herself sitting in the grass with her back leaning up against a tree. She had a book that she read. It was just one of many inside. Stephanie cut firewood for long cold nights. Mack returned with a dead deer in tow. To the teen, at that moment, it would have been paradise.

  Amber's oar bumped into something in the water. It snapped her out of her daydream. Was it the mud below the Norman River? Was it a rock? S
he had no idea and decided to ignore it. That was until she hit it again.

  “My paddle. It's hitting something over here,” she said. She felt it prudent to mention it.

  Hitting something? I thought this river was deeper than that. “I'll check it out.” Mack went over to her side of the boat.

  Amber handed Mack her paddle. Standing up, he poked and prodded at the water. There wasn't anything there. He even submerged it almost down to the handle and didn't hit anything but the river bed. They both looked at each other. He shrugged.

  Before returning to his side of the boat, he gave Amber back her oar. He sat back down and got back to his paddling. The man was satisfied that whatever his teenage charge hit was long gone. She wasn't so sure.

  Amber put the oar back into the Norman River, but it wasn't long before it once again came into contact with something substantially more solid than water. She was sure it wasn't just her imagination.

  Now determined to know what she was hitting, she started stabbing at the water with her paddle. A couple of times she hit something. That something decided to show itself in the most dramatic way possible.

  Amber lifted her paddle, ready to stab at the river again. A split second before she stabbed downward, the head of a crocodile burst out of the water and grabbed the oar with it's mouth. She had to let go. Otherwise the beast would have easily dragged her down with it.

  “Fuck!” yelled Amber as she let go of her paddle and fell backwards into the middle of the boat.

  What the hell? Mack turned to see her shook up and on her back.

  “What happened?” he asked as he got up. He looked down at her, and she pointed urgently at the river.

  “The water. There's a... a... gator?”

  “More likely that's a crocodile. Don't worry. I doubt it's going to try to get up here and snatch you. Hell, there's probably only one of them. Relax. We'll just float a little while. Take a break.” Mack had one hand on his machete.

  Is that…? Oh no. This isn't good. We need to get off the water. Mack heard nanites nearby. He heard a lot of them. There were meat puppets all around them. Considering that he couldn't see them, they had to be in the river.

  The shore is too far to swim to. Plus we have no idea how many of those crocs there are. Mack looked over to the riverbanks. They were lined with trees and completely out of reach. And with only one paddle there was no real way to get over there.

  Amber got up and took out her machete. Armed with nothing but blades, she and Mack were at a loss as to what to do. They were more or less trapped.

  “There's no way we're going to be able to kill those things. At least not with these.” Mack referred to the machete in his and Amber's hands.

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “I think I have an idea. Whatever happens, don't follow or try to help me. Understand?” Mack put his machete away and went to the bow.

  Attached there, tied through and onto a metal ring was a small length of rope. It was used to help anchor the vessel to docks. For Mack it would serve as a tow line.

  This is really going to suck. Mack hardened his nerve while looking down at the water. He knew that there was no way that what he was about to do was going to be anything but extremely painful. But he was confident that he'd survive. Because he was simply stronger than the beasts that laid in wait.

  “Wait!” Amber shouted when she saw Mack about to jump into the crocodile infested river. He ignored her. His mind was already made up.

  For the first few seconds, Mack was unmolested. It was like his jumping into the water was a shock to the infected crocodiles. After all, it was rare that dinner came to them. That shock only lasted a short while though. Not one to waste time, he grabbed the rope and dragged the boat in the direction of the nearby bank.

  Mack's legs churned under the water. There was deep mud that made each step hard. Not only did he have to fight the water itself but his feet sunk down and needed to be pulled up out of the muck. But he made progress. That was until something grabbed him by the calf.

  It didn't hurt at first when one of the infected crocodiles bit into Mack's leg. Instead it was a great pressure. The pain did arrive shortly after though. And it was intense.

  At that point, after being grievously injured so many times, Mack could handle the pain. He didn’t like it, it still hurt, but he was able to manage it, to fight through.

  Mack felt the crocodile try to roll. It could only go halfway. As strong as it was, the beast couldn't snap the Viking's metal bones. Nor could it rend his muscles. In the end it just took skin with it as it's teeth lost their grip.

  Not deterred by having the lower half of his leg basically skinned, Mack kept going towards the riverbank. Two other crocodiles swam fast towards him and with killer intent. There was no dodging them. All he cold do was brace himself.

  The first crocodile bit Mack around the waist. The second came out of the water and bit his shoulder. Naturally he lost his hold on the rope. Under the power and control of two of the beasts, Mack was dragged under the water.

  Even with enhanced eyes, he couldn't see in the murky water of the Norman River, but he felt his flesh torn violently from his torso and shoulder. His arms and legs flailed as he was tossed and tumbled around. All the while he could hear Amber, distorted by the water, from up above screaming his name.

  As tempting as it was to see if he could drown, Amber's voice spurred Mack to action. With his free arm emerged a trident like fork. He thrust it's tips into the the crocodile around his waist. The newly formed weapon was sharp enough to penetrate the armor like hide of the creature. Even though it was a blind thrust, he was lucky enough to strike just behind the head.

  Mack felt the infected crocodile around his waist loosen it's grip and fall dead into the river mud. Dealing with the one locked onto his shoulder was simply a matter of which was stronger.

  Free from the two meat puppet crocodiles, Mack surfaced. Amber felt like crying, laughing and yelling at the same time when she saw him emerge. He grabbed the boat's rope and continued to drag it towards the riverbank.

  Amber did her best to fend off any overzealous crocs who tried to go after Mack. It was all she could do. Her survival completely depended on him in those moments. She thought she was beyond the point where she needed him to stay alive. Apparently, she was not. At least not yet.

  Mack felt the mud underneath him rise. He was going up an incline. It was the riverbed. That encouraged him to pull harder until the boat stopped moving.

  That sucked. Mack almost fell face first into the dirt. He wasn't just exhausted but his body needed to heal. There was very little energy left over.

  “Mack? Mack!” Amber called out to him, still in the dirt. Infected crocodiles crawled out of the Norman River towards her guardian. It was time for her to step up.

  She looked around and saw there was a plastic gas can on the deck of the boat. She picked it up and shook it. Inside she heard the highly flammable liquid. Next she picked up Mack's oar and then she ripped the sleeve off her shirt.

  The meat puppet crocodiles had reached Mack. They were cautious and tugged at his legs. It looked like they wanted to drag him back into the river.

  Realizing that she needed to hurry, Amber wrapped her shirt sleeve around the thickest portion of the oar. She twisted the top off the gasoline can and poured it's contents over the sleeve. All she needed was a way to light her make-shift torch.

  The side of the boat was aluminum. Amber laid the gasoline soaked rag end of the oar on the metal. She struck at the hull with her machete until she produced some sparks.

  “Whoa!” She jumped back as the sparks from her machete ignited the fumes around the oar. Just like that she had a torch. She used it to light the boat on fire.

  Something came over her. Maybe it was the remains of some Amazonian gene. She jumped off the bow of the boat narrowly missing the open jaws of a couple of crocodiles, all while letting out some manner of battle cry.

  Mack would have
been amused or even thrilled to see her fearlessly jumping into the fray. He also would have been pissed. That didn't matter because he didn't see her. There was a crocodile trying to pull him back into the river and he had to claw at the dirt and exposed tree roots to try and find a hand hold.

  Amber swung her torch at the crocodile that had it's jaws firmly clamped around Mack's leg. It didn't do anything. With as much power as she could, she swung her machete. The blade lodged in the top of the creature's head forcing it to let go.

  Feeling the pressure go away on his leg, Mack flipped over to his back. He saw Amber getting surrounded by infected crocodiles. His teenage charge was keeping them at bay at that moment with a torch and machete.

  That's my girl. Where the hell did she get a torch? Mack got up to one knee. His torso was fully healed, with the dirt inside the wound. But his leg, twice mauled, was far from okay. It was only skin though. The muscle and bone underneath was relatively unscathed.

  “A little help!” Amber could see that her weapons wouldn't hold off the crocodiles for long. Even in their tiny brains the fact that the fire was pretty much harmless to them would make itself apparent. If and when that happened, she would be surrounded and screwed.

  Mack knew that he could make his body into a weapon and even a crow bar. So maybe he could make it into something that could get Amber out of the serious pickle she found herself in. The only question was how.

  It took focusing through the pain for Mack to stretch his arm. In his mind he pictured heroes from the comic books he read as a kid. There was one who's body was like rubber. He could stretch every part of his body to a near infinite degree. That was what the big man went for. Only he didn't count on it feeling very strange and extremely unpleasant.

  The bones in Mack's arm didn't stretch. Everything around them did though. Each muscle tore and rebuilt itself longer. Before he knew it, his hand was around Amber's arm. He pulled back as hard as he could. Perhaps he pulled a little too hard. She went flying over his head.