Legacy

by Daniel Pierce

  Copyrighted Material

  Future Reborn: Legacy Copyright © 2019 by Daniel Pierce

  Book design and layout copyright © 2019 by Daniel Pierce

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

  Daniel Pierce

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  Future Reborn: Legacy

  Book 1 in the Legacy Series

  Daniel Pierce

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  1

  Tonight might not be a total bust after all, I thought, bending down to gather some dry wood. Flint and I had put some distance between us and the chaos of the city, and now we’d found this relatively undisturbed hideaway, a campsite by a beautiful lake big enough for some fish, but too small for anything dangerous that might crawl or slither out looking for food, like a hammerhead. We’d be able to recover tonight before tomorrow’s journey. I felt good, humming an old Shikasud work-song as I ran through the mental checklist of things I had to do. Build fire. Food. Plan the next hunt.

  Something cold and wet nuzzled my hand. I looked into Flint’s eyes, which were level with mine as I scooped up the driest of the wood. She replied to my look with a soft whine and I smiled.

  “Okay, I know you’re not hungry, because you just ate . . . whatever that thing was you caught back there.” I really hadn’t recognized it—something like a jackdeer, but bigger and with stubby antlers, not a great, branching rack. I’d studied it while Flint chowed down and decided it must be something new. A mutation, probably. Things mutated fast around here, the favorable sorts quickly catching on at the expense of whatever came before. And this was a favorable sort; stumpy antlers made it better suited for the tight bush lining the broken course of the Shikasud—faster, more maneuverable, harder for things to hunt . . .

  Well, things that weren’t Flint, anyway.

  Flint whined again and slurped at my face. “Alright,” I laughed, juggling the firewood into one arm and scratching her ear with the other hand. “I get it . . . you’re looking for some attention. Fine, just let me get this fire started—”

  Another whine, but it abruptly edged into a soft growl and Flint’s attention swung into the bush. I knew what she was thinking just by the way she bristled. Something was coming. And it must be human, otherwise she’d be making more noise. That didn’t necessarily make it any less dangerous.

  I placed the firewood down, picked up my rifle, and straightened, watching for the approach of whatever had caught Flint’s attention, but keeping myself aware of every other direction. Wouldn’t be the first time some asshole raiders tried using a distraction. After a silent moment, I heard the crunching of twigs not too far off. I decided to be direct and aimed the rifle that way. “Who’s there?”

  My words hung like a bad smell in the cool air. I took a step forward, furrowing my brow. Stupid to just wait for whatever was out there to come to us. Suddenly, I heard a rough voice asking the only question that made sense out here.

  “Human?”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding, but kept my hand on my weapon. “Last time I checked.”

  A gruff chuckle emerged from the bushes, and two figures made their way out of the trees . . . a man, older than me by far, and a young woman. The man had a grey-whiskered, old-leather look made harder by a weary wariness. He was covered in tough, practical gear, and sported weapons and a trader’s sack. He looked tough, but in that moment, he didn’t seem to be looking for a fight.

  His companion . . . now, she caught my attention and wouldn’t let it go. She was at least a head shorter than me, but her boots were planted firmly on the dirt. Even in the dimming light, I could see her beauty under the travel-grime. Her eyes glittered in the last traces of the sun and her jaw was set in a hard line, but she, too, looked more cautious than dangerous.

  I nodded in greeting. “Looks like we’re all hunters here.”

  They nodded back, showing their necklaces to me in the customary sign of the traveling hunter. I did the same, and we all took a breath, relieved this wasn’t likely to turn to blood.

  The man’s voice creaked like old wood. “You’re Custis Mars, aren’t you?” He gestured to Flint. “Unless there’s another man out here with a hellhound by his side. Folks talk about you and that beast of yours back west. You’re something of a legend.”

  I tipped my hat. “You can call me Cus.”

  The man gave me a deeper nod. “Aldebar.”

  The girl cocked her head with a slight smile. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Cus.” Her voice was as full-bodied as a glass of moonshine, clear and strong. She looked me right in the eyes when she spoke, and I felt something funny perk up at the base of my spine. “I’m Reyna.”

  I offered the pair a place to shuck their gear and went back to gathering wood. Soon, we were sitting around a comfortable blaze, flint roaming the edge of the firelight, ensuring our safety from any unexpected interlopers.

  As the smoke rose high into the clear night sky, Aldebar suggested we consider trading. We took stock of one another’s inventories. He knew of my history finding Hightec and asked me how I was getting along with the tech in my system.

  I decided to test that bit, see just what folks ‘back East’ were saying about me. “Tech in my system? Huh?”

  Aldebar grinned. “Part of that legend I mentioned. Now, don’t tell me it ain’t true . . . I’d be awfully disappointed.”

  Reyna gave me a narrow-eyed look. “It’s true, dad.”

  I shrugged my surrender, then took a few breaths to mull it over. Truth be told, I didn’t think about it much. It was just part of me, like my skin having an olive tone or my hair being blond. Who thinks much about the tone of their skin or color of their hair?

  “Well,” I finally offered, “like everything, it has its ups and downs. I can carve a Drac in two like nobody’s business, but . . . sometimes I get these tremors.” I illustrated by lifting one of my hands and letting it shake. “I’ve been told it’s just how the body handles that kind of power. Makes a man wonder what kinds of power he could live without.”

  Aldebar cocked his head. “Never seen a Legacy . . . that’s what they call you, right? A Legacy? Anyway, never seen one in action before.”

  “What do you mean, dad?” Reyna asked, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “You just saw his hand shaking. Weren’t you impressed?”

  I liked this girl. But I couldn’t let it just hang like that, so I stood and did a block-dodge-block again-strike combo, making the whole sequence
of moves in the time it took to draw a breath. Aldebar’s eyes widened and he said, “Huh,” duly impressed. Reyna was, too, but she tried to be less obvious about it. It just made her more endearing.

  Aldebar dug into his pack. He had some bullets and casings in decent shape. As he talked about how he’d come by them, I could tell he had a good knowledge of the lands around Le’kemeshaw, the big water up north. As though on cue, Reyna pulled out a map that she’d been working on, depicting the territories through which they’d been traveling. Now it was my turn to be impressed. She definitely had an eye for detail, all documented in neat, clever handwriting. I took some mental notes.

  “Legacy like you probably doesn’t see too much of hand-drawn maps anymore, I bet,” she teased.

  “Shitty ones, sure,” I said, smiling. “Not ones this good, though, that’s for sure.” I found the lake we were sitting at on her map and pointed to it. “You planning to add a little campfire right here? Three folks and a”—I glanced at Aldebar—“a hellhound sitting around it?”

  Reyna chuckled. “Maybe I’ll call it Camp Flint.”

  As though she’d been called, Flint appeared, approaching quickly and quietly out of the darkness. She sat by my feet, her rough, shaggy fur shining fawn in the firelight, her eyes glittering from her black mask. Reyna gave her an appreciative look.

  “What a beautiful creature,” she breathed, crouching down in front of Flint. Aldebar and I watched their interaction with curiosity. Flint isn’t curmudgeonly by any means, but she could be tough to get along with and took some getting used to. Reyna leaned down and looked Flint in the eyes, and I was about to caution her not to get too close, but Flint surprised me, closing her eyes in a sign of trust. Reyna went on to surprise everyone—even herself, I think—by reaching out and slowly resting her palm on Flint’s enormous muzzle. And that was it; they just stayed like that, clearly at peace.

  Aldebar’s grizzled voice floated over the fire. “Looks like someone’s got a new friend.”

  I was touched. Few ever dared get that close. Even fewer ever tried touching Flint. Her teeth, each nearly as long as my thumb, were usually a pretty firm deterrent.

  Reyna and Flint finally withdrew her hand and looked at me. “You’re very lucky to own her.”

  “Oh, more likely she’d be owning me.”

  “I’m thinking you’re more of a team,” Aldebar said, poking at the fire, sending sparks showering up into the dark.

  I nodded and scratched Flint’s ear again. “That we are.”

  I couldn’t help looking at Reyna sidelong. Flint was a great judge of character and seemed to find hers just fine.

  We sat that way around the fire for a time, chatting in the way folks friendly, but still new to one another, do. I told them some things about the Shikasud they didn’t know, like to how to spot a cliff that’s about to give way, or where the Dracs tended to nest once the flood season passed. They offered a few good bits of information back, including a place in the city, just a pile of old concrete, that was rumored to conceal some Hightec. We even made a few alterations to Reyna’s map, her glad for it and me just as glad to be able to help.

  When we traded, me giving up salt for some bullets, Aldebar suddenly raised his eyebrows at something he’d seen in my pack. I cursed myself for letting my guard down so far and fast, but the old man just shrugged.

  “That’s Hightec right there, huh?” he said, pointing.

  It was, though not something I was immediately familiar with, I must admit. It was a tough metal cylinder as long as my hand, sprouting a trio of copper prongs corroded a vibrant blue-green.

  I closed the pack. “Yeah. Something I picked up in the city.”

  “Well,” he said, “if that’s for trade, then you can replace that salt you just traded to me, and a lot more besides, if you head up-water.”

  “That so.”

  “It is indeed. There’s some traders coming down-water, carrying lots of salt . . . other things, too, and in quantities. Meat, dried fish, leather, lots more. Met ‘em a few days ago. Their prices ain’t great, but they sure were interested in Hightec. Got two hands-worth of jerky and a good pair of socks just for a couple of bullets. Pretty sure they’d trade damned well for something like that,” he ended, pointing at my pack.

  I thought about the cylinder with its copper prongs, and a few more Hightec things I had tucked away. Truth was, they were just curiosities to me, not especially useful. The tech inside me sometimes popped names for these things into my mind—like capacitor for the cylinder, or relay, or data-switch, but most of them might as well be names of birds or animals I’d never seen before. Salt and meat and new socks were worth a lot more to me.

  “Sounds like something to check out,” I said. “Wasn’t planning on heading back up-water anytime soon, but it’s as good a way to go as any, I guess.”

  “It’s where we’re headed,” Reyna said, and I looked at her. The firelight made her face hard to read, but there’d been a hint of something in her voice that caught me . . . something just a little too eager. She glanced at me and our eyes met, but hers immediately flicked away.

  Huh. Could I have read this all wrong? Could these two be dangerous, somehow? Grifters, maybe, who lured people to some remote place with offers of favorable trade so the rest of their gang could pounce?

  It happened. I’d even let it happen to me once, when I was a lot younger and a lot stupider. Not as stupid as the bandits who tried to jump me, though. I was still some years away from meeting Flint, but her being there would only have made a bad situation worse for the assholes who’d attacked me. Those bandits would have learned a valuable lesson—don’t make an enemy of a Legacy—if any of them had survived. So if these two were just a front for a bandit gang, thinking to take on me and Flint, then they were the truly stupid ones this time.

  But I thought about Flint sitting with her eyes closed, Reyna’s hand on her muzzle, and I flicked away thoughts of her and Aldebar being bandits the way I’d flick away a skitterbug. Like I said, Flint was a damned good judge of character. Yeah . . . these two were just what they seemed to be.

  So what was that eager note in Reyna’s voice about?

  Aldebar lifted a battered mug and drained the dregs of some tea he’d brewed from an herbal concoction, then he let out a satisfied sigh that turned into a yawn. “Well, Cus, sleep’s calling me and won’t shut up. Umm . . . hoping you won’t mind if we bed down here tonight?”

  Another glimmer of thought about them being bandits, but I batted it away again and nodded. “’Course. Fire sends out heat in all directions, so whatever I ain’t getting just goes to waste anyway. And don’t worry setting about a watch . . . Flint is a very light sleeper.”

  Aldebar nodded back. “Thank you, Cus. Can’t remember the last time I could sleep without having to get up for watch—and even then, still be sleeping with one eye open.” He turned to lay out his bedroll.

  I stood and turned away from the fire, heading out to do my usual once-around the perimeter of the camp before settling myself down. A few paces along, though, I stopped and glanced back.

  Flint hadn’t followed. She always came with me, checking things out at my side. But this time she stayed by the fire. She almost seemed be watching over Reyna, who just sat staring into the flames.

  I walked back. “Looks like Flint’s thrown me over for someone else,” I said, as much to Flint as to Reyna. And I’d meant it as a joke, but Flint gave me a look that suggested something else was going on here.

  Reyna looked at Flint, then back at me and smiled. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”

  “Sounds like you and your dad had a long day. You should bed yourself down.”

  “I’m . . . not really tired.”

  “Okay, walk with me, then. I always check around. I guess it’s called Camp Flint, now?”

  She smiled some more.

  “Anyway,” I went on, “got to do my rounds before I can head to bed. Call it a ritual.
Walk might help you relax.”

  She stared at me a moment, biting her lip, then stood and gestured into the dark beyond the firelight. “Lead on.”

  Reyna fell into step beside me. This time, Flint did come, taking the lead and padding a wide circle around the fire. As we walked, the tech inside me was busy analyzing the ground, identifying possible covered approaches to the camp, escape routes, good firing positions, and committing them all to a sort of mental map so I could find them again, even in full dark. I was used to that, though, and just let the tech do its thing, no more distracting than a catchy work-song you can’t get out of your head.

  Eventually, Reyna spoke, her eyes on the campfire now flickering some ways off through a stand of bush. “Like my dad said, it’ll be nice to sleep soundly for a change.”

  “Thought you weren’t tired,” I teased her.

  “Guess I was wrong.” After a few more paces she said, “I want to thank you too, Cus. It’s been . . . a while, I guess, since I’ve really felt safe.”

  The silence hanging off her words begged for me to ask her what she meant. I couldn’t help glancing at Flint. Yup, she was a good judge of character . . . and wise enough to know when something else was, indeed, going on.

  “You and Aldebar seem like you can take care of yourselves,” I said.

  More silence. I could feel Reyna gathering herself, though, summoning the courage to say something she obviously wanted to, but wasn’t sure if she should. I just let her have the time.

  “I’d have agreed with you, Cus,” she finally said. “Up to just a few months ago, anyway.”