Future Rebuilt: A Post-Apocalyptic Harem (Future Reborn Book 2)

by Daniel Pierce

  Mira was looking back thoughtfully at the ground we had covered, one hand pulling at her chin. “Chloe, how many patrols did you say Rowan had?”

  “Maybe three. I don’t think he was honest about anything, so there could be as many as five. At his heart, he’s a coward, despite being casually vicious when it suits him. I think he’ll wait for them to rally before he sets out, but he has another problem,” Chloe said.

  “Assuming they survived the storm?” I asked.

  Chloe nodded. “And the gorge. He doesn’t know about it, and he won’t be able to get over it until the water drops lower. It’s a death trap right now, and it will be for at least two days, maybe three. He’s got a lot of problems, but we do too.”

  I processed that, running timelines and scenarios that all ended in uncertainty. There were four of us, and up to twenty of them when they finally arrived. We didn’t have time to travel over sodden, storm-wrecked desert, grab reinforcements, and make it back in time to secure a facility that I hadn’t even found a way into. Despite my abilities and some element of surprise, the odds were grim, and I knew it.

  “We can’t do anything until we find a way in and secure the building. Let’s say three days, tops, before Rowan’s people can get here. That means we might end up fighting dirty,” I said.

  “Only way to fight,” Mira agreed.

  Chloe gave a sharp nod. There was no daylight between their outlook on combat.

  “Alright. Let’s circle and find a way in. If we have to, we make a door. I’m tired of fucking around,” I said. We began moving clockwise through the undergrowth, staying close to the soaring components of the building, and it was a full hour before Chloe put a hand on my arm, pointing not at the metallic surface of the silos, but to the ground nearby.

  “What’s that?” Chloe asked.

  We surrounded the boulder, its surface a uniform gray with minor pitting but no cracks. I rapped it with my knuckles, smiling at the hollow sound. “I don’t think it’s a random boulder. Good eye.”

  “Too regular,” Mira said, running her hands over the surface until she stopped, picking at a ridge that was invisible from any angle except directly above. “Push?”

  “Not yet,” I cautioned. “Weapons up. Silk, do the honors?”

  She said nothing, sidling up to the camouflaged entrance and placing both hands flat upon the broad, clear area that now stood out in my eyes. The difference in coloration was subtle, but present. A perfect square.

  She lifted a brow. “Just push?”

  “Just push,” I said.

  She did. For a moment, nothing happened, then there was a low whine, somewhere within the rock itself. The metallic echo faded into an unseen distance, and with agonizing slowness, the panel recessed the width of my hand before grinding to a halt.

  Beyond, there was only pitch black and the stagnant air of a tomb. “Not too close. I don’t want anyone passing out from gases,” I said.

  “It’s on some kind of track,” Silk said after peering closely at the door. She exhaled and took a deep breath of humid air, an expression of thanks on her face. “Foul. Like dead things and mold.”

  “As long as it isn’t filled with water, I like our chances. Those reactors are tough. Even if we can get one of them to partially work, it’ll lift us out of the dark ages,” I said. “Stand back. I’m going to force the door.”

  I unshouldered my pack and weapons, leaning into the edge of the door with everything I had. Muscles straining, the door began to move with a howl of grinding metal that would wake the dead. After ten seconds of gradual progress, something snapped in the track, and the door slammed aside with a crash, vibrating to a stop only after I put both hands flat against it. The edge was warm from friction, but the door was open, if not permanently broken.

  “I’m going to lean in and breath, to see if it’s tolerable. If I pitch forward, drag me out if you don’t mind?” I said.

  “If you die, can I have your stuff?” Chloe asked, a wicked grin on her face.

  “Hey. Get in line,” Mira said, but she was smiling too. So was Silk.

  I rolled my eyes at their joy of my impending doom, earning a pat on the head from Silk.

  “I’ll drag you clear. Not done with you yet,” Silk said.

  “Thank you,” I replied with as much dignity as I could muster, given the stench emanating from the space before me. Leaning in, I drew in a foul breath, let it out, and repeated the process three more times. When I felt no ill effects, I pulled back, a sour look on my face. “Smells like Satan’s taint, but you can breathe it.”

  Who is Satan?” Silk asked.

  “He was—well, it’s complicated.” I guess Satan had gone away during my nap, only to be replaced by things like Taksa and hogs the size of a car.

  “What’s a taint?” Chloe asked, her eyes round with curiosity.

  “It’s—well. Let’s talk about it later. How about if I just say it smells like death and leave it at that?” I asked, hoping to avoid any discussion of demonic body parts.

  “Okay. But you have to tell us later,” Mira said, earning two sounds of agreement from Silk and Chloe.

  I raised my hand and nodded, then began looking around the brush for torch material. “We’re going to need a lot of torches in there, and that causes a problem. Oxygen. We can’t foul the air or set anything on fire, because I have no idea if we can get any circulation in there.”

  “I have a different idea,” Silk said.

  “Other than torches?” I asked her. Maybe she knew something of the apocalyptic world that I didn’t.

  “We could do this,” she said, reaching around me and flipping a switch. Lights flared into existence down a dripping entryway that turned left at a set of metallic stairs.

  “I’ll be damned,” I said. “They work.” I revised our chances of success. If the lights were running after two millennia, then there was a working power source. In the distance, a low hum began to emanate from the walls, and I felt the push of air against my back. “Ventilation fans. They’re pulling air in.”

  “So no—tainted smell?” Chloe asked.

  “Well, eventually. For now, it will be rough going,” I said, fighting to hide my smile. “Especially if you don’t like bugs.” An armada of cave crickets clung to the walls, their long antennae wiggling at the influx of outside air and new sensations. They didn’t appear to be fans of light, either.

  “I don’t like them on the walls, but they’re okay fried,” Mira said, without a trace of humor.

  “Let’s leave them there for now. We can always play bug farmer later, if food gets tight,” I said, stepping inside the doorway with care. The floor was damp but stable. The metal stairs appeared to be another story altogether. “I’ll take lead. Mira in back. Everyone, weapons out but pointed down. I don’t know what kind of footing we’ll be dealing with.”

  “Look at that,” Silk said, gesturing toward a sign pinned to the wall. It was the size of a postcard and unreadable from the accumulated grime and haze of mold.

  I swiped my hand over it to clear the growth, revealing a fire escape map. “Perfect.” I worked the sign loose with a snap, taking in the details radiating out from a small star. “You are here.”

  “We are, right?” Silk said. “Four levels and two wings? This is a lot bigger than it looks.”

  “Unless I’m way off, this is another black site. Probably part of whatever that Cache key fits,” I said, patting my pocket to feel the outline of the salvaged relic. “It’s close to a fortress, at least in design.”

  “Easy to defend when Rowan shows up. He can’t get through the ground. Has to come through one of the doors. I make two, according to the sign,” Silk said.

  She was right. We might be sitting on a huge facility, but the way in was limited, making our job the slightest bit easier.

  “We go down the main stairs, just past this entrance. That corridor is the main access for everything. I wouldn’t trust the elevators, not after what we just saw with th
at door,” I said.

  “Stairs only,” Silk agreed. “Left or right when we get down there?”

  “Left. Larger rooms. We want storage first, maybe labs. When we secure the reactors, then we come back up and start building static defenses. I want them to fight their way in while we fall back to secure positions. We’ll bleed them white, until—” I jabbed my finger at a door just beyond the stairway landing. “We ambush from here, with this back-channel hallway. Get whoever is left in crossing fire and cut them down.”

  “That makes their numbers a lot less impressive,” Silk said.

  “If any of them even get in. I can snipe from the top of a tower,” Mira offered.

  “I can’t risk you out there. If they split us, you’re dead.” She bridled, but I put a hand on her shoulder. “You can snipe from right here,” I said, marking a wide room that looked like a control center. It had clear views of the left hallway, and would be a natural advantage for a shooter like Mira.

  “Okay. Inside it is, then.” Mira didn’t like being cooped up when she could shoot long range, but the gamble was too great. We would fight together or not at all.

  We picked our way down the slick metal steps, feet ringing in unison before we made it to the bottom. The lights were present, but weak, a wan yellow glow casting sick shadows throughout the wide passage, walls festooned with mold and deposits of driftwood piled at odd intervals.

  “Oh, shit. This changes things,” I said, putting up a hand to stop everyone before I led us into a trap.

  “Are those bones?” Silk asked.

  “Human. And animal,” Mira answered, lifting a knuckle bone, then dropping it before wiping her hand in absent disgust.

  “By a skull count, I’d say dozens of people, if not more. Hundreds, maybe, and twice that in animals,” I said. “Okay, everyone get back up the stairs, quietly. We need another look outside before we come down here again.”

  In minutes we were gulping clean air as the adrenaline cooked off, Mira and Silk nervously pointing their guns at the yawning doorway. I left the lights on. If there was anything down there, it would already know something was up. There was no sense risking the lights not coming back on, given how temperamental ancient devices could be.

  “Once more around the perimeter, and we need to go slow, look hard, and keep your guns hot,” I said.

  Our next lap through the brush was far different than the first. Now Mira and Chloe sent their skills into overdrive, stalking through the greenery with suspicious steps that were a third of the speed from before.

  “Got it,” Mira said after a half hour of hot, close work.

  We were on the opposite side of the door, in a cluster of brush so thick the sun was dim. Water trickled out of the slope, and the hum of insects filled the air around us. We were in a place of permanent shadow and, because of that, had missed the obvious trail.

  “Game trail,” Chloe said. “Follow it to the source?”

  “I’ll lead.” I proceeded deeper into the gloom with steady steps, placing my feet in areas where there was no debris to give away our position. The mosquitos were thick as fog, their incessant whine a companion more irritating than the heat and damp. An odor of rot rose in my nostrils, and after twenty meters, I saw our target.

  “Air vent, and well hidden,” Chloe said.

  The heavy grate was gone, replaced with a hanging tangle of vines that draped over and around the dim square of the shaft. Around it, the ground was beaten to mud by something using the shaft as an access point.

  “Here’s your hunter,” Mira said, touching a footprint that fell outside the soggy path. Starkly defined in the dirt, it was recent and only partially degraded, protected by the canopy of brush. “It’s . . . I mean, I know the track, but . . .”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s way too big. Like twenty times too big for the animal,” Mira said, touching the ground with fear and revulsion.

  “Is that—mouse tracks?” Silk asked.

  “No. Rats,” Mira answered, her voice low and thoughtful.

  “I’m not fan of rats, but can’t they be killed with ease?” Silk asked.

  Mira rose, flicking the mud from her fingers. “I saw some rats clean the carcass of a hog in less than a day. And where there’s one, there are hundreds, maybe even thousands. What I don’t get is why they aren’t out here?”

  “Nocturnal,” I said. “Maybe these aren’t fans of the sun. Not many rats from my cities would be out in the daylight, unless there was something hunting them.”

  “Or a lack of food. That makes them move, too,” Mira said. “We would find them in abandoned camps, but only as long as the food held out.”

  “Which means they’re foraging in The Empty,” Chloe said, her eyes following the dizzying array of tracks.

  “Successfully, too, judging by the bones. Those skeletons aren’t ancient,” I said. “Two wings, filled with rats, and only a day or so to clear them out. We can’t use fire, and don’t have enough ammo, even if they were kind enough to line up and let us potshot at them one by one.” I cracked my knuckles in frustration, examining the muddy trail again as if it had secrets to reveal.

  “What if we don’t kill them all, or at least not now?” Silk asked.

  “You mean find a safe room and operate from there? That could work, but it will have to be close enough to the main entrance for a fast exit. Just in case,” I said. I held up the map taken off the wall. “There’s an entire ground level wing we haven’t seen, and we’ve got lights on and plenty of daylight up top. Let’s go in, check the other wing, and make a decision based on what the best option is. By tonight, we’ll have a base, an emergency exit plan, and we can begin clearing rooms. I don’t think the top level is where the reactors will be. It’s too close to the surface, and it doesn’t make sense in case the power system fails.”

  “What do you mean?” Silk asked.

  “The lights. The hum of power. All of it. If it’s running off one source, it seems likely the designers would keep backups close by, where the system could switch over in the event of an emergency. I’m betting there are systems that can’t go offline, not if the facility was expected to function.” I shrugged, because I didn’t know what we were looking at, other than a fort made of secrets.

  “Then we drink, eat, and go back in, but this time, we find a place to sleep that doesn’t squeak when we lie down,” Silk said.

  “You have a history with rats?” I asked her.

  She jabbed me in the arm while making a pretty frown.

  “You might say. I had a disagreement with one who exited the pack of a merchant. While I was in the tub.” She shuddered. “Do you know rats can run along the edge of a tub while avoiding the flailing hand of a woman? Quite nicely, I might add. Took me four tries to get the little bastard, and even then, I think I only made him angry.”

  “I’m glad you survived,” I told her with mock gravity.

  “I know you are. It would be quite the shame to waste me on a stupid death by rat. I prefer something more . . . impressive,” she said with an elegant sniff. Her lips curled in a sarcastic twist, adding to her beauty.

  “Like giant rats in an underground lab built by people who wrecked the planet?” Chloe asked, all innocence.

  “Much more to my liking. I always did have a flair for the dramatic,” Silk said, but her smile took the sting of any retort away. She knew who she was.

  “I’ll take my death the way I like danger. Distant and unthinkable,” I said, starting the walk back toward our original point of access. I stopped halfway between the rat trail and the main entrance.

  “Why here?” Chloe asked.

  “Rats have great noses. Less chance of tweaking them with the smell of food. Eat up. We go under in five,” I said, pulling my pack off but keeping my shotgun on hand.

  We ate and drank in companionable silence, then stood as a team. “Let’s go,” I said. “My lead. Guns ready. Legs ready too, just in case.”

 
The stairs were drying out from air exchange, but still far from safe. Descending in a slow, careful pace, we made it down to the main landing in two minutes, speeding up due to the familiarity of the path. The piles of bones greeted us with mute silence, only the unknown hum of distant machinery breaking the oppressive atmosphere.

  “Quiet as death,” Silk murmured. Her words echoed off the nearest wall as I leaned down to examine the bones.

  “Mira, what do you make of these?” I asked.

  With Silk and Chloe standing guard, we knelt, looking closely at the nearest deposit of remains. Some were clearly human, but others could have been almost any mammal. Or bird.

  She flicked through them like a teenager in a record store, looking for a hidden gem. “Blood chicken. Iguana, maybe a basilisk. That one’s a rat, but not full grown. Seems they’ll eat their own in lean times.”

  “Not surprising,” I said.

  “Human, for sure,” Mira said, holding up a femur. “Young. A child, maybe ten or so.” She put the bone back with a reverent touch, her eyes darkened with sadness. “the rats have cracked some of them for marrow, but not all. I think there’s plenty of food around here, but where?”

  “Not in The Empty,” Chloe said. “That’s for damned sure.”

  “Even in this area, where there’s vegetation and water. Maybe if there was some kind—what the hell is that?” Mira said, her voice growing tight.

  She pulled a wide, flat object form the bone pile, it’s surface shining with the pallor of metal. It was nearly black, streaked with angry red, and twice the width of my hand.

  It was also a fragment.

  “A shell?” I asked, moving some of the bones away to look for other pieces. We were wasting valuable time. Rowan was coming, and I was digging through a rat’s garbage dump looking for clues to a question I couldn’t define.

  Mira found three more pieces of the skeleton, placing them side by side on the floor like a puzzle taking shape.

  I’d lived in Oklahoma long enough to recognize certain things from the desert, and what I saw made me tighten the grip on my shotgun. “It’s a carapace.”