I waded in.
The waterbugs parted before me, swirling in wild, unruly mobs as they churned the lowering water in desperation. Many of them reversed course and tried to go back toward the hatch, wriggling in clacking masses as they fought to get over their cousins and into the deeper water of the second chamber. The water level would stabilize once it dropped below the hatch, so their instincts were on point, but I was going all the way to the end of the hall, and if the pumps worked, the entire floor would be dry in a matter of hours.
“Are you okay?” Silk asked, her face a bit pale as she watched the bugs thump against my legs in their confusion.
“Come on in. The water’s fine.” I grinned to reassure her, then walked slow and steady toward the hatch, my movements failing to trigger any mass attack by the insect horde around me. I pulled my second blade, just in case, and edged to the right side of the hatch, looking in with caution.
“What do you see?” Chloe asked. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the water and the bugs, and her words caromed off the metal partition with a mechanical echo.
“Another chamber, about twice as long, maybe three times. Four doors, more lights. Smells about the same, maybe a little fishy.” I watched the bugs fighting like salmon in their quest to get back to the second chamber. “What’s in this section, other than another drain?” I asked Andi.
She pointed to the left. “Small armory on that side, then the next three doors are all power systems. The damaged reactor is in there, second door.” She jabbed a finger to the right, then waved her hand at everything else. “The rest is stored reactor units. The mother lode. Then, in the third section, you’ll see a trap door. That’s access to the vampires and other exotics.”
“Are they folded wing?” I asked.
“Yes, but to answer your question, we’re not bringing them out this way. There’s a closed access tunnel with shaped charges outside. We blow the rock hatch and take all the arms out that way,” Andi said.
It was a damned good system, and the secure position meant that even if Rowan could get in, he couldn’t just steal the aircraft.
“Good.” I lifted a boot and put it on the hatchway, moving a dozen beetles out of the way as I did.
The salamander clamped down on my foot like a vise, its teeth shearing into my pantleg like a row of serrated knives. It was two meters long, slick, and black as night, its pale eyes tiny dots in a wide head that gave it an almost phallic look. My sword took the head off in a silver flicker as the body slumped back into the water, instantly swarmed by bugs.
The head, still cheerfully biting the shit out of my leg, remained right where it was. I jammed my blades in the mouth and twisted, prying the powerful jaws apart with a savage twist. The head fell into the sludge of waterbugs below, covered in a frenzy as the dinner bell rang and every bug that was trying to leave turned to feast on their former master.
“What the—what was that?” Andi managed to ask. From attack to beheading had been mere seconds. The corpse wouldn’t last much longer.
“Salamander. Like a hellbender, but bigger. I think we know why the beetles didn’t take over,” I said.
“Those fucking things live in colonies? The salamanders?” Chloe asked. Her gun wavered nervously around.
“Put your gun down, I’m fine. Hurts, but nothing serious. The ‘bots will have me fixed up in a minute,” I said.
“Yes, but the bite—” Silk began, but I waved her off with a gentle gesture.
“Isn’t venomous. It’s okay, I can feel it,” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.
“Are there more? There must be more,” Mira said, her rifle level and steady. She’d stared down bigger creatures; an overgrown amphibian wasn’t going to make her tuck tail and run.
“Probably. If I remember my biology class in school, that critter needs running water to live. I’m betting there’s an outside channel or access that kept the water circulating, even if the pumps failed,” I said.
“That would explain a lot of things. Like why there was air at the top, and why the entire place isn’t flooded. Maybe it was the storm, too,” Andi said. The noise around was us still alarming, but we were getting used to it as some of the beetles settled back into the water, either tired or wounded from clashing with their cousins.
“I’m going into the second chamber,” I said, reaching down with my boot to stir the water. “Let’s see if I can fish one of these slimy bastards up.”
On cue, another salamander lunged at me from the murky water, but I was ready for it. My blade flashed again, taking the creature just behind the front legs. It gasped once, the wide, flat mouth clapping together in a comical thud as it slid back to be devoured. “Mother nature is a hardass,” I remarked. “Think I’ll try for that cable you told me about, just to speed this up.”
“To the left,” Andi said. “How low is the water?”
“A meter at most. Still enough room for predators, but the lights are good. I’m wading in,” I said without fanfare, stepping through the hatch and bearing left along the divider wall. I saw the cable Andi told me about, high and mounted to the wall in a straight line. It was black conduit, bolted tight and sturdy.
In three swift steps, each making a foam wake behind me, I pushed to the wall, reached up, and grabbed the cable with my left hand. Salamanders swirled in the water beneath me as I pulled myself up, thanking my ‘bots yet again for the ability to hold myself up with one arm.
“Can you see the sign for the drain?” Andi asked through the hatch.
“It’s right here. I’m going to clear it with my blade, then we’ll bag the debris later. I don’t think we can fit all of the salamanders and beetles into the trash bag,” I said, watching things move through the water in varying speeds. This wasn’t a flooded chamber. It was an aquarium.
“Gonna stink down here when they die,” Andi said.
“I have a plan for that. Let me get to the third section before we worry about the details. Then we can secure the Vampires and make plans to greet our guests,” I said. I was busy using my blade as a shovel, peeling the mat of debris away from the second drain. In seconds, I heard the distinct hum of another secondary pump, and the water began to swirl into the grate with growing speed. “Gonna clear in a hurry. Be ready to come in here, Andi. I need you on this reactor as soon as you can walk with dry feet.”
“I’m ready. We all are,” she said, and I heard a chorus of agreement behind her.
“I’m going to do a little pest control while you wait,” I said, dropping into the water with a splash. I began walking in a slow, deliberate circle, striking down at salamanders as they crashed into my legs, their jaws snapping with fury. I killed them in short, economic strokes of both blades, filling the draining water with the corpses, which became so heavy with beetles that they sank to the floor.
In minutes, there was little water and not one living salamander, the only evidence of their occupation being their vanishing bodies and a vaguely fishy smell that hung in the air.
“Nice work,” Andi said, her boots squelching on the muck as she led everyone into the hallway. “Let’s get this reactor housing fixed. My teeth hurt from that friggin’ whine.”
She tried the door, but it was either rusted or frozen shut from debris, so I opted for a less delicate approach. I wrenched the handle down in a savage twist, nearly tearing the door apart.
But it opened.
“Subtle,” Andi said, grinning.
“I’m nothing if not delicate. Let me clear the room,” I said, raising my blades and stepping into the power center. Lights flickered on, stubborn at first but warming, and there was little water on the floor at all. The seals had held, which told me the flooded hallway was an occasional event rather than a constant. That explained the desperate populations of creatures; they would only come out after enough water could activate their life cycles in the harsh reality of The Empty.
“What do you see?” Andi asked me when I stood in silence, sta
ring at the room.
“The future. And beyond,” I said. I wasn’t kidding. Before me was the most beautiful sight I could imagine. Row upon row of pocket reactors sat in partial crates, lined up and flawless in their racks.
“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” Andi said, her tone openly admiring.
“Those are . . . engines?” Chloe asked.
We all stood inside the door, fresh air blowing over our faces as the room’s environmental systems kicked into gear.
“Reactors. Way more powerful than any engine, and they’ll run for a thousand years. Or more,” Andi said.
“Could we use them to have lights at night, all the time?” Silk asked.
“Sure. As much light as you want,” Andi said, lifting her brow at Silk, who was subdued after her question. “Why, honey?”
“Sometimes you need light at night,” was all Silk would say, and I knew she was right. The dark had to be pushed back, both in reality and in the wider sense. With these reactors, we could do both.
“And we’ll have it. Promise,” I told Silk, because she needed to know there was more ahead of us than just endless violence. There would be safety, too, and a place to look at the stars and not wonder if tomorrow was the day that you died. I was going to make it happen, but first, I needed the reactor steadied. “Andi, can you check the reactor before we become part of a small, angry mushroom cloud?”
“On it,” she said, walking into the room and going straight for a banked reactor with three large panel adapters. The room was clean, with no spiderwebs, bones, or other indication of unwelcome guests. I kept my blades in hand just in case, and Chloe, Mira, and Silk all had weapons out too.
Andi went to work. She withdrew a small ratchet with a gooseneck, flipping it around in a blur as the reactor housing came off in less than a minute. The hum intensified, set free form the muffling effect of the carbon shield, but Andi didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were fixated on the reactor, a pair of cables that ran to the left, and a lone, winking red dot that I understood to mean something was wrong.
“What’s the verdict?” I asked her, wondering if she would get pissed at being questioned while working, but she looked over her shoulder and smiled.
“In simple terms? Age. Twenty centuries of tiny vibrations have worn down the housing mounts, and it was leaning on the unit. It turned into a tuning fork,” Andi said, working as she spoke. She went around the side of the small reactor and pushed, then kicked it once, looked at the position, and kicked it again, harder.
“Seems quite technical,” I remarked drily.
“Oh, it is. You have to kick it just so in order to get the mounts back in line. I’m highly trained, kids. Don’t try this at home,” she said, punctuating the last words with one more kick, a bit softer and directed away from her. She leaned over for a top view, squinted, and gave the reactor a friendly pat.
The hum was gone.
“Back in business,” Andi said.
“I kind of expected something more dramatic. You know, a clock counting down, you sweating and trying to pick which wire to cut. Stuff like that,” I told her.
“Sorry to disappoint. Just a wonky housing and a good boot. We’re ready for the next part of the floor,” Andi said.
“Do you all want to go back to the first chamber, in case there’s something meaner than the salamanders waiting in this section?” I asked.
“It’s not a bad idea, but if we’re in there and you get in trouble . . .” Andi let the words trail off.
“Fair enough. Can you all safely hold onto the cable while I pop the hatch? Then if a six-legged velociraptor comes through, you can pull it off my corpse,” I said, grinning.
“What’s a velociraptor?” Silk asked, easily pronouncing the unfamiliar word.
“A cross between a chicken and a lizard, but meaner. They died out millions of years ago, but then again, nothing surprises me after the virus. Who knows what came out of the ooze, so to speak,” I said.
“Well, we can take any chicken, no matter how big. Frankly, the idea of a chicken on the fire sounds good right about now,” Mira said.
“Okay. I’ll open, you get ready then.” We filed out into the splashing debris of the hallway where countless battles between beetles were winding down. They were full of salamander, and the room was drying out. Already, I could smell a hint of insect musk in the air. It wasn’t unpleasant. It was disgusting.
“Ready,” Chloe said, her gun level and steady.
“Opening,” I replied, putting everything I had into the hatch handle. It didn’t move, then it did, if only in a motion so small I wasn’t sure it happened. I took another deep breath, rolled my shoulders, and tried again.
“You need a hand, tough guy?” Andi asked.
“I’m—good,” I grunted, the handle moving with a sudden jerk as the bolts were thrown and I felt the pressure of water begin to force the door open. In a tremendous leap, I threw myself to the side, pulling up among the girls as we watched the water begin to flood what had been a muddy mess only seconds before. The beetles were ecstatic. The salamanders, not so much, but then again, being dead has a significant effect on your enthusiasm for swimming.
“If a giant momma salamander comes in through that door, I’m screaming,” Silk said.
“Me too. After I shoot the fucker,” Mira added. “I don’t like wiggly things. Or slimy things.”
“And when they’re wiggly and slimy,” Chloe said, shaking her head dramatically. “No way.”
“That explains a lot about how you are in bed,” I told Chloe, who casually punched my arm without letting go of the cable.
“You weren’t complaining, and you might not get the chance to complain again,” Chloe said with an ominous tilt of her head.
“Usually, I would find that a threat, but if there’s a big momma salamander coming through the door and she’s available,” I said, leering at Chloe and the world in general.
“He’s all yours,” Chloe told the other women, her lips pulled down in a mock frown of disgust. “I don’t see your special lady coming over the spillway, do you?”
I watched the flood with interest. There was a lot of water, but it didn’t seem as chaotic as the previous flowage when I opened the other hatch. “I don’t even see any waterbugs, unless they can move freely back and forth between chambers in the hall?”
“I don’t think so, unless there’s a flooded cable run or pipe, and even then they would get clogged up. Not much room for error. There might just be a natural break in the walls after all these years, and the animals are using it like a highway,” Andi said, looking around for something obvious like a giant crack. There was nothing of the sort, so she turned her attention back to the water.
“I’m going in,” I said, jumping down into the thigh-deep swirling mass. We were wasting time, despite doing something that needed to be done. Nothing bit me, or injected me, or tried to drag me under. “So far so—okay, salamander here.” I cut viciously into the water, beneath the surface. My blade parted the salamander’s body, and the circle of life began playing out around me yet again as waterbugs swept in like tourists at a crab leg buffet. “I think we’re good to go, once the drains keep working.”
“Power is stable now. We can verify the weps and go back upstairs to rest and refit. Some food and a nap might go a long way toward getting us ready for Rowan,” Andi said.
“You think the Vampires are secure?” I wondered aloud.
“We’ll know in a minute, won’t we?” Andi asked. She waited for me to step into the final section of hallway, still draining vigorously. “Can you clear that drain first?”
“Can and will,” I said. I pushed into the water, still wary but more confident, until my boot tapped the drain cover with a metallic ring. I scraped the mat of trash to one side, and the drain began to vibrate as water sluiced down and away from the flooded area, leaving debris and stains on the walls as a calling card of a long submergence. “I think this one filled up a long time ago. Seems like
the water’s had time to work.”
“Go to the double door. We need eyes on those softwings,” Andi said, her voice urgent with worry.
“Here?” I asked a moment later. The secondary pumps were humming, and the hall drained faster than a bathtub. The residue was muck, leaves, a variety of beetle shells, and the bones of more unfortunate amphibians who lost the cannibalism game with their beefier cousins. Everything was layered according to density in a kind of time capsule for how life in the flooded hallway had been over the years. It wasn’t pretty.
“Right.” Andi ran a hand over the dripping doorway, the metal cool to her touch. “Seal looks good. Ready?”
“Ready,” I answered. I took the handle and pulled, my legs straining against the door as my ‘bots began to shriek their way through my blood and muscle. “No joy.”
“Let me—oh, okay.” Andi swept her fingers over the tablet, and I heard a distant click. “Emergency locks. Try now.”
I jerked the handle down, skinning my knuckles on the door with a muffled curse. “Well, it’s open.” I rubbed at my hand absently, the door still closed. “Weapons up. If there’s outside access, I expect company in here.”
The door came open, and my breath left me.
“Jack. You okay?” Silk asked.
I bathed in the glory of it all. There were no monsters. There were no roving bands of wannabe dictators or shakedown artists or even old-fashioned criminals. There were only weapons; beautiful, perfect weapons, and the best ones of all had wings.
“It’s glorious. That’s the word. Glorious,” I said. I felt like I was looking at a new baby or an unopened present on Christmas morning. It was all of those feelings and more.
Mira moved alongside me, patting my shoulder. “Easy, big guy, it’s just—oh, yessss.”
I turned my head to regard her face. She was in a moment of rapture. “See? Told you.”
“We can fucking fly?” Mira asked, her voice an awed whisper.
“Fly and shoot and dodge, too. They’re nimble, fly forever, and they can land on a square meter of ground if they have to,” Andi said, her voice ringing with pride.
Future Rebuilt: A Post-Apocalyptic Harem (Future Reborn Book 2) Page 18
