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

by Daniel Pierce

  “Set a random pattern? And, can you set an alarm for contact?” I asked.

  “Done. If it sees anyone, we’ll get a tone through the entire facility, not just my tablet,” Andi said.

  “How long until sunup?” I asked.

  Mira looked up, her eyes flickering as she considered our time above. “About ten hours, give or take.”

  “Then we have some time to rest, refit, and consider what to do about our friends upstairs. Killing their bogeyman might make them a bit less timid, I’m afraid,” I said.

  “It would take them one hunting cycle to know that,” Chloe said.

  “So we have, what? Until tomorrow at most?” I asked.

  “Between that and the lights, probably. When they come out, it’ll be in force. You can bet on that. Those two colonies will take the vacuum of power as a chance to wipe one another out, or I don’t understand predators,” Chloe said.

  Mira nodded. “We do not want to be in the middle. Underneath, maybe. Up top? No way.”

  “We don’t want to be on the bottom level, either. At least not until I activate the pumps. Look at this,” Andi said, brandishing her tablet. Red warning bars flashed over a map of the lower floors, with three blue lines inside the vertical wall markings.

  “Flooded?” I asked.

  “Totally. Doesn’t matter to the gear because the rooms are self-sealing, but for access, we need to get to the command center. It has access and directives for the entire facility. It’s also the oldest and most secure room here,” Andi said.

  “How old? When was this place built?” I asked.

  “1994. All deep black budget stuff, so far off the books that no one understood what they were building. The sections were built as modules and inserted through a side shaft that was rocked over when complete. Unlike the pharaohs of Egypt, the workers weren’t killed. They were reassigned to other places, and the trees grew up even as memory faded. It was hiding in plain sight, just like the rest of the projects,” Andi said.

  “That’s—it was here all along? Unreal. I wonder how many lives could have been saved if anyone had been able to use all of the gear,” I said.

  “Exactly zero. I know why you’re pissed, Jack, but think about it. Crazed civvies with weapons like this? What do you think would have happened? I’ll tell you—some shitbag would have grabbed everything and set himself up as a local warlord. That’s what. Tell me, isn’t that what happened anyway? Is The Empty some shining example of peace and human rights, or is it a chessboard of assholes with power?” Andi said, her eyes flashing with anger.

  She was right, and I sighed in disgust at her assessment of the world as it was now. “Fair enough. I guess it would have been a drop in the bucket.”

  Andi’s eyes softened even as Silk and Mira bristled. Chloe just watched with interest.

  “I understand how you feel, Jack. Do you think I wanted to turn tail and hide in a metal tube, when I knew the world was coming apart around me?” Andi took my hand in hers, and it was a touch of understanding. “I hated knowing that everyone I loved would be dead. All of my life. My people. My nation, and planet, all of it was probably going in the shitter while I was thirty meters down, dozing away the months.”

  “Months?” Silk asked, her tone rich with scorn. “The virus lasted for centuries or more. For all we know it’s still out there, turning us into things that scrabble for food in the night.”

  “We thought it would burn itself out, like any other plague. We were wrong,” Andi said, her gaze level and free of shame.

  “Did you do it? The virus?” Chloe asked.

  “Me? No. Not— I build things. I don’t plan for the end of the world, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t have taken part in it. I was brought here as a kind of caretaker, along with some staff who were going to see the place through to the other side. Obviously, that didn’t work either,” Andi said. Now her words were mournful, as the enormity of everything she lost came clear in her mind.

  “Then you have nothing to answer for with me,” Chloe said with a decisive nod.

  “Or me,” Silk added.

  Mira regarded her with latent suspicion, but added a shrug and then began checking her weapons, having moved on to more practical things. Like survival.

  “I don’t blame anyone for what happened,” I said into the tense silence.

  “You don’t?” Andi asked with some surprise.

  “No. It’s a waste of time and hate. I have to live here and now, not in some grief-fueled state of looking back. I have sixty people to care for and more on the way, if I can continue to make the right decisions,” I told her.

  “I hoped you would say something like that,” Andi said, then crossed her arms in the first nervous gesture I’d seen her reveal. “I’m two millennia from home, guys. I want us to live more than anything, but we need to clear this place fast, and I can’t apologize for things I didn’t do.”

  “No one needs an apology. We need you. Let’s talk about what’s next, and where we end up, okay?” I said.

  “Good. Thanks.” Andi sighed, uncrossed her arms, and pointed to the stairs with confidence. “I have to get into the command center like yesterday. Once I activate all of the defensive systems—”

  “There’s more?” I asked.

  “There were mines, but I’m sure they’re long gone. I’m talking about internal systems. We’ve got hard barriers that can be activated in sequence to make it an absolute bitch for anyone to get very far in here, and that’s assuming the scorps and rats don’t rip them apart. As much as I would hate to give up ground, I don’t know why we don’t use them as a sort of living minefield,” Andi said.

  “I have an idea about that. As for now, saddle up. We go to level three. I lead, guns up, and from now on until the command center, we move quiet and fast. Good?” I asked, getting a round of nods as we moved in unison toward the stairs.

  Below, I heard the odd hum, but little else. With a wave, I told everyone to follow me as I began my descent, the stairs growing slick with moisture.

  I stopped above the landing, holding my hand out for the hard map. It was in Mira’s pocket, so she handed it over without a sound, her eyes never leaving the lighted space below. After a quick glance, I held it to Andi for confirmation. She gave a sharp nod, held up five fingers, then jerked her thumb to the left. I had my location, now the only thing to do was advance.

  We entered the third floor as a quiet unit, our steps muffled by the growing whine of a distant reactor. No wonder the rats hated it; the noise pulsed in and out of my awareness like an unwelcome guest, but I pushed it away and tested the first door on the left.

  It opened quietly, the lights inside winking to life with a harsh glare. I glanced at Andi, who murmured electrical as I stepped inside, sweeping the room with my weapon.

  “You weren’t kidding,” I said now that the room was open to us. There were no scorpions or lizards or rats for that matter, just cable routers and junction boxes of sizes and shapes that were completely alien to me. “What the hell’s going on in here?” I was a computer engineer, but the setup looked like it could handle enough power for a city. Or more.

  “Each reactor can be daisy chained, and when we needed more power, this is where the connections would be maintained, cut, or even rerouted. There are three different rooms for comms and power besides the CC down the hall. It’s a level of redundancy, but it’s also necessary because of how much cabling we had to run,” Andi explained.

  I walked over and put my hand on a bundle of cables running up through the ceiling. There was a low motion within the bundle as it hummed with quiet purpose, well below the irritating sound of the wonky reactor below. Thinking for a minute, I realized Andi wasn’t telling me the whole story. “Where do these cables go?”

  “Right here, in the—” she began, but I waved her off.

  “No, the cables that run outside the facility. Like this grouping.” I tapped a bunch of cable marked with EC. It was the thickest in the room, and it vanishe
d through the wall rather than up into the ceiling. That made it more interesting to me because it confirmed something I’d suspected. This facility was far from unique, despite whatever Andi had been told. Just as I had been a mere cog in the machine, so had Andi.

  “What do you mean outside of here?” Silk asked. As usual, her devious mind grasped the possibilities immediately.

  “Andi?” I asked, offering her a chance to explain what she knew. If I couldn’t count on her to be open with me, then she was a liability, not asset, and certainly couldn’t be counted as one of my people.

  Her look was one of genuine confusion as she ran her fingers over the cabling. “I . . . don’t know. I’m not stupid enough to think I was special to the military, but I have no idea why they would run this much juice outside the system.”

  “What about EC? Does that mean anything to you?” I asked.

  “Fuck if I know. I knew our local network was FC for Fortress: Cache, but as to anything else, it wasn’t on the books when I went under. I have the highest security clearance possible, so when we get to the CC I can search it.” Andi shrugged, her brow pulled down in frustration.

  “Then we get there next, unless there are rooms that need to be cleared for the fight?” I asked her.

  “If Rowan’s people get this far, we’ve got bigger problems than losing a few tool kits and shit. This is primarily command, but like I said, the real loot is already locked up in the main armory and down below, with special weps. They’re not getting into those rooms without a battering ram or explosives, and if we lay down fire they wouldn’t even have time,” Andi said.

  “That assumes they’re not in the belly of a rat,” Chloe said with her own frown of disgust. Then she grinned. “Can’t say that would make me sad at all.”

  “Or me. Fuck him and his dreams of a crown. I’ve had enough of that bullshit for a lifetime. Hell, twenty lifetimes, if you count my nap,” I said.

  “Then I guess we go to comms first, then CC. As to the rest of the space, I can put it on biometric lockdown once we reboot the system. We can access the drone footage in real-time on the big screens, too,” Andi said.

  “To comms then. Any linking systems in there that we can carry?” I asked.

  “That’s why we’re going. There are pinbuds that link to the facility. You speak to the air and can be heard anywhere inside. Like radio, but better. No handsets,” Andi said.

  “Good. We need it for the fight,” I agreed. “Room four?”

  “Four on this side. CC is next, and I’ll start the pumps, too. Lots to do in the first minute, then we get our data and plan,” Andi said.

  I slid into the hall, hoping for the best but expecting almost anything. I was pleasantly let down by The Empty space and bright lights easing along the wall to the comms room. Behind me, the women moved in utter silence, their weapons trained in a disciplined row, ready to fire at an instant.

  Andi touched the door then stepped back as I reached out to take the handle in a single, decisive tug. Unlike the other rooms, the lights inside were sluggish to come on, and when they did, there were shadows chasing each other across the ceiling as bulbs cut in and out with an erratic rhythm.

  The air wafting out was sick with age and something else, a smell I was quickly learning to avoid when possible. It was decay, and not the kind brought about by dripping water and moss.

  “Back,” I said in a grim voice, my gun at shoulder level. I saw no motion, but another bar of lights popped to life, sending half the room into bright relief.

  “What the fuck is all that?” Andi asked, subtle as ever.

  Sheets hung from the ceiling, obscuring part of the room as they waved from an unseen breeze. They were ragged, dirty, and filled with debris where still attached at more than one point, making a garden of filthy hammocks that blocked my view.

  I drew a blade but kept my gun ready as we spread slowly inside, staying close to the door and surrounding frame. In total, the room was ten meters long and about as wide, but the purpose was a mystery due to the bizarre decorations.

  “What was this supposed to be?” I asked Andi.

  Chloe, Silk, and Mira all held their guns like a rosary, knuckles white and eyes rounded with worry. I understood. The entire room was unsettling and wrong.

  “This was a secondary water control room,” Andi said. “Backup in case the pumps failed. There were manual overrides here and on the lower level at the drains, but . . . I don’t know what happened. The material we used was nanobot compound around hard—oh, there’s the core of one unit. Look,” she said, staring down and to the left.

  Metal gleamed, grimy but still visible in the erratic light. It was part control board, part switching valve, and far larger than anything I’d ever seen before. “What did that do?”

  “One of three units. A failsafe, but the housing is gone, and the system is in pieces. I don’t like our chances of finding the floors below in anything other than a full flood stage,” Andi said with some heat.

  “Can they be overridden manually?” I asked. We needed those floors, both now and for the future.

  “Sure, if you can swim in soup. I’m sure the water down there is anything but pure since it’s been stewing for who knows how long,” Andi said with a grimace.

  “I can swim, just not sure I want to in a thousand-year-old petri dish. Hope my ‘bots are ready for a workout. I can’t imagine anything in the water but an array of vicious bugs,” I said. The water down there would be riddled with diseases, and no amount of ‘bots could protect me forever. “I think the best—target above,” I snapped, bringing my gun up in a blur.

  The lights dimmed as something moved along the ceiling, and the purpose of the room snapped into focus as I stared into the face of something that was clearly a new addition to the world since my nap.

  “Those aren’t sheets,” Chloe said with revulsion. “They’re webs.”

  The spider froze when I made eye contact, which told me it had seen me and was switching to hunting mode. At five feet across, the body was three times the size of a basketball, supported on willowy legs that ended in hooks as black as night. The mouth parts continued to move as it stared at us, eyes reflecting the shifting lights of the nearest bulbs.

  “The bastard is licking its chops,” I said.

  “I see,” Andi said, craning her neck slowly as she scanned the ceiling. “Jack, do you want the good news first, or the bad news?”

  “Bad news,” I said without hesitation. I didn’t think there could be any good news, not while I was staring at a spider the size of a wolf.

  “You can’t use your gun. The fucker is right over an auxiliary cable dump, and any rounds in it will cut whatever chance we have of draining the lower floors,” Andi said.

  “Blades it is,” I said, resigned to my fate. I judged my reach to be slightly longer than the spider, but only if I fully extended in a forward strike. It would be close, and those hooks were serious business. “Good news?”

  “There is none. I don’t like to lead with negativity. Not my style,” Andi said with a wry grin.

  “Thank you. I can appreciate that kind of upbeat attitude,” I replied, slinging my gun as I held both blades, their edges wicked in the artificial light. “Any chance we can lure this thing away?”

  “Don’t know. Never fought one that big before,” Chloe said.

  Then the spider charged, and all my options were gone in a flash of leg and fang.

  Instead of dodging, I attacked the nightmare creature, despite every nerve in my body screaming in primal resistance to getting anywhere near the spider. My first blade took a leg off at the first joint, ichor flying as the spider whirled in an impossible motion, hooking my boot with one of those gleaming talons. I was jerked to the side—the fucker was heavier than I expected—but the motion let me bring my second blade around with a heavy blow, taking a second claw near the end of the leg. Bristly hair exploded from the creature as we collided, its black fangs extended toward my face as I turne
d yet again, rolling into the mass of the beast. Our impact threw my weight against its soft body, crunching it against the edge of a conduit that ran from ceiling to floor. The spider shrieked in a high squeal of agony and rage, venom flying from the fangs as it scrabbled to gain my back while Chloe and Mira dashed in to slash at the legs.

  From behind them, Silk threw a knife, sinking the blade into the junction of a leg and midsection. The fluid spurting out covered my eyes in a viscous curtain as I fought to break free before the fangs could find their way into my neck. With the pommel of my left hand blade, I struck a shattering blow on the creature’s head, pounding the fangs down against the floor with an audible bang as I pushed up and away. Wiping at my eyes. I could see the spider draw down on Chloe, who still hacked at its legs with a series of expert blows, her blade leaving streaming cuts wherever it landed.

  Despite the rain of attacks, the creature kept coming, incredibly strong and nimble despite its frail appearance. It skittered to the side, spun, and grabbed at Mira with a pair of legs that doubled back at an impossible angle, tearing her from the floor with a jerk that snapped her head back in a motion so violent I could hear her teeth crack together. Before the spider could press its advantage, I resorted to a tried and true move without thinking.

  I punted it.

  Kicking hard enough that the entire body collapsed on one side, the creature flew up into the webbing, spitting bubbles of clear fluid and gyrating wildly as it tried to reach back for me. Its remaining legs clung to the swaying silks, and when it reached the low point of its arc, I slashed up at the silk, parting it like a curtain as a rain of debris joined the wounded creature falling to the floor. The spider hit amidst bones, trash, and bits of metal, twitched once, and began to shudder along its sides like a dog shaking off a bath.

  Then it leaped at me again, front legs streaking forward in unison as the fangs slid out and up for a killing stroke. It was fast.

  I was faster.

  My sword split the spider’s head like a melon, cleaving deep into the main body and stopping with a ripe splat. As I pulled my blade free, the spider’s momentum kept it going overhead, now a flopping assembly of innards and legs that spun crazily out of control before landing against an electrical panel with a wet thud. It shook again and fell still, dead and leaking its guts out onto the concrete floor in a spreading pool.