“Then we’d better get to work,” I told her, and we did our best to fill the hours of darkness with something good.
24
“Pack seems light,” I said to Silk and Mira.
“We hunt on the way, but there are enough dried rations for two weeks. We have two days between water sources, and we can travel at night for speed. How many rounds of ammo?” Silk asked Mira, who answered without hesitation.
“Forty rounds for mine,” she said, hefting her short stock M16, on loan from Lasser, though he gave it to her with a wink as the sun came up, and I don’t think he expected to get it back.
My shotgun was in hand, the ammunition in a belt that crossed me from shoulder to hip, the shells tapping against my back like the world’s best security blanket. Silk’s .45 gleamed with wicked purpose in the rising sun, and she wore her own armor, the only feminine concession a long, gauzy wrap that kept the sun off most of her skin.
“We’re ready,” I said to the space between all of us, and with that, we moved through the south gate under the watch of guards who looked at us like we were already dead.
“Be seeing you boys,” Silk said, earning a shy smile from the guard on the left.
“A customer of yours?” I asked, smiling at his embarrassment.
“One of the Hannahs. A very good customer.” She blew him a kiss as we started south, the road clear under a scarlet flash of the new day. In the distance, a vulture swept west, little more than a still silhouette in the air.
“Never thought I’d walk across Oklahoma,” I said, thinking of the map and where I’d been before going into the tube.
“Was this a good place?” Mira asked.
“It was hard, but not bad. The entire country was beautiful. Rivers, lakes. Timber, land, and cities. We had everything, and then we killed ourselves with a virus because bombs and guns weren’t enough. Maybe we deserve this,” I said.
“How many people were here?” Silk asked. She knew Kassos and the traders, so her curiosity was natural.
“More than three hundred million here in the United States. Billions in the world. I’m guessing almost all of them are gone unless Australia made it.” I hoped there were pockets of something from the old world. If not our ways, at least our technology, and maybe some of our culture. There had been beauty in my world, even if it was seasoned with fear.
“Billions?” Silk asked. “How is that even possible? The predators alone would—”
“We were the top predator, and we fucked up,” I said with a shrug. It made no sense to deny history. The bones wouldn’t be ignored.
We were making good time, on alert to dangers but staying on the road. I kept active watch ahead, Silk to the left and Mira on our right. We all turned back occasionally, watching the post fade into a blur as we descended a low incline along the southern road. We’d lose elevation all day, then hit a rise at nightfall, when we would have to decide if we camped or went on until the moon set. At the rate we were going, it seemed we would double the speed of the Harling’s wagons, and the trip started to feel less like an impossibility.
Not that I would quit. Not with Taksa on the way and inhuman creatures camping on a source of water, safety, and tech.
“You said we were going to hunt for fresh meat?” I asked Mira. She was squinting into the distance, her eyes following a lanky bird hot stepping across the scorching sands.
“Save your round. Nothing but bones and feathers on him. We’ll hunt toward the dusk, when the fat ones get active,” Mira said.
She was hiding something, so without breaking stride, I gave her a searching look. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing you don’t already suspect. Or haven’t eaten, anyway,” she said while smirking.
“Huh. Giant snakes. Didn’t see that coming.” My conclusion was right, because all Mira did was laugh, pointing her finger like a gun. “At least tell me these aren’t burrowing invisible death rattlers, or something?”
“They’re not. Just big, pissed off, and delicious. They’ll be near rock outcroppings, which means,” Mira said, drawing the last word out as she looked ahead, “about an hour from now, we’ll get our first chance to see if you’re any good with that sawed-off.”
I peered into the wavering distance, and she was right. There was a huddled rock group on the east side of the road, rising as we walked toward it. “Water there too? Looks like some green.”
“A small spring. Good eye,” Silk said.
“Thank my ‘bots. Never could see that far before, but now, it’s easy.” I focused on the group of stones, seeing how they tumbled inward to a central point. The spring was at the bottom, judging by the circle of small trees and shrubs, poking hopefully above the shattered landscape. “Just how big are they? The rattlers?”
“About four meters for a female. The males are smaller, but sneakier. We’ll kill one of them if we can. Don’t want to remove the breeder. We might pass this way again, and even if they’re mean as hell, they’re still a food source. I’d rather not dig for beetles again,” Mira said with a grimace.
“High in protein, though,” I told her. She responded with two middle fingers, which made me feel a little bit more at home. At least people were still rude to each other through hand gestures.
We approached the rocks without any attempt at stealth after Mira told us the snakes would feel us coming, or at the very least, smell us on the wind.
“There she is,” Silk said, nodding toward an unremarkable lump between two broken boulders. “Damn good coloring.”
“No shit,” I agreed. The snake was enormous, curled around a palm tree, her black eyes watching us with stony intent. It was the biggest snake I’d ever seen, and when she lifted her rattle, I felt hesitation in the part of my brain that went back to the days when humans were prey for everything with teeth and claws.
“We’ve come full circle, then,” I murmured, swinging my sawed-off forward after checking the load. “Headshot?”
“If you want to save the meat. If you want to save the round, slide that blade out and get to work,” Mira said. There was a challenge in her eyes, her lips curled upward at the corners. Silk just watched to see what I would do, since saving ammo took precedence over fear of screaming death at the hands of a giant, venomous snake.
I sighed and put my shotgun away, nodding. “I hate your logic.”
“But you love the rest of me. Now get in there and hack that rattler, big boy,” Mira said with a laugh. I was glad she could be lighthearted about my fight with a prehistoric beast. I cracked my knuckles, drew both blades and went into a low fighting stance, getting three steps before I thought to ask a question. “Have you ever killed one of these before?”
“Hell no,” Mira answered. “I’m not stupid.”
“I’ve tamed other kinds of snakes,” Silk added brightly. “You’re on your own.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said to myself, moving forward as the snake watched me with her obsidian eyes.
A male rattler came from behind one of the boulders, attacking from the side, lashing out in a silvery strike that came inches from driving his wicked fangs into my neck. Without a thought, I brought one blade up and one down in a scissor motion, sending his head to the sky, spitting venom and blood in equal parts. The head landed with a thud as his body convulsed in wild loops, curling in and out until three meters of rattlesnake finally died, twisted to reveal his pale belly.
The female never even moved. “Thanks, sister,” I told her, dragging the male away by the tail. “I think they broke up.”
“I’ll say. Let’s skin him before the desert spoils your work. Nice cut. Thought he had you for a second. I know he would have had me,” Mira said, her tone one of open admiration.
“Did you know he was waiting?” I asked her, feeling my heart slow down after the adrenaline jolt.
“No, but I figured he was nearby. They’re territorial, and none too friendly to visitors,” Mira replied. “I think your blood is m
aking you something else, Jack. That was an impossible strike.”
I stared at the dead snake, wondering who was the bigger danger, him or me.
25
Four days of walking brought us to the second oasis, a small series of pools nearly a klick west of the road. Two lean wolves skulked away at our approach, their sullen glares revealing an intellect that I found troubling.
“Maybe we don’t stay here,” Mira said, while keeping an eye of the wolves. An aura of danger clung to the creatures, and I thought there would be more of them in the area. “Hunting in the daytime. They’re hungry.”
“Let’s move on. We’re making good distance, and we can put some space between us before nightfall,” I said. When we’d drank our fill and had skins bulging with water, we moved south. The wolves didn’t follow, but they watched us all the way.
“Will they strike tonight?” Silk asked. She understood predators, be they human or beast.
Mira considered her question, shaking her head. “Not if there are two. If there’s a pack somewhere, then yes. They wait until the moon rises, and then surround us at camp.”
“When they come, headshots only,” I said.
Mira grinned. “The pelts are valuable in the city. In the post, no one can afford them. Except you, Lady.”
“Too hot, and they smell of the wild. I had one once, a gift from some fawning idiot who thought to woo me with gifts. He gave me a pelt that was half-cured, reeking of piss and death. It may surprise you to find that our relationship ended rather suddenly,” Silk said.
“Why can’t they just give us food and space to sleep?” Mira asked, but it was directed at no one.
“I’ll make a note of it on your birthday. Food and a nap,” I said.
“You know me already,” Mira said, earning a laugh from Silk. “I would like to celebrate my birthday again. Haven’t for years.”
“We can start. I like food too much to avoid a holiday, no matter what reason. I’m even starting to like rattler more than I expected. Given how many skins we’ve seen, I don’t think the Empty is in any danger of running out of snakes.”
“Or scorpions. Or crocs, or wolves. There are hornet nests the size of houses, I’m told, but those are near the coast in the swamps. I have no interest in seeing them up close,” Mira said.
“Do ogres live in the wild?” I asked. I’d been reading on the computer every night, trying to learn about the fall of the world, virus, and what it all meant. Answers were spotty, but I thought it was clear the virus had jumped species with shocking ease. Everything from insects to mammals had been under the gun, breaking apart into new and terrifying variations of life.
The ogres were the closest thing to humans, and I couldn’t find a reason why. There were no apes in the United States, and that meant ogres were something new, but then much of the world was new after the ravages of the virus.
“They stay close to humanity. They’re not smart, and even though they’re incredibly strong, they don’t do anything in a hurry,” Mira said.
“Like cows?” I asked.
“Steer? I guess, but ogres are more docile. The big steer in the grasslands are known to attack a camp, especially at dawn. When the calves are around, they’ll charge anything that comes near, even lions,” Mira said with a casual flick of her hand.
“Lions? Seriously?” I asked. “Big cats?”
“And jackwars, too, but they keep to the trees. Of course, the rivers—the big ones, like the Atchala or the Mizoo—you’d best not go swimming there. Hippos down south, and crocs everywhere else, but big. A lot bigger than the ones out here,” Mira spat the last words, her face a mask of pain. She was thinking of Bel. I reached out to touch her hand, and she gave me a brief squeeze, never breaking stride. “Sorry. Knew we wouldn’t die of old age.”
“You will now if I have anything to say about it. Old and comfortable,” I told both women, my jaw going tight when I realized it had become my mission. Without them, I couldn’t build a home, and without a home, no one was going to live a life free from the daily threat of extinction. Plans needed peace to come true, and I knew that our real work would only start when we found the strange people of the forest.
We made camp in sight of Alatus, deciding to go in fresh at dawn. There’d been no wolf sign through the day, and our watch rotation was simple. I took the middle, so that everyone could get some sleep, but we ended up watching the moon rise together, perched on a boulder as the stars began to spin overhead. Somewhere in the night, a small animal squealed, then went silent, either escaping to live another day or becoming a meal. The Empty forgave no one, not even the smallest living things.
27
“That’s it,” Mira said as we drew up before an expanse of covered ruins. “Alatus.”
After a quiet night, we broke camp early, finding an unexpected trickle of water in a low hill just to the west. We found it by watching a bird dip, drink, and fly off, its scarlet feathers gleaming in the morning sun before streaking away. We were less than two klicks from the mass of lumps, exposed walls, and various rocks that had once been a sprawling military base. I felt a pang of regret at what was before us but tucked it away in favor of a cold, clear look at what we had to do.
“Any activity?” I asked. If we were closer to the forest, that meant we were in range of whatever lived there. The Harlings were not specific about where they were attacked other than Alatus, but that could be anything spread over a huge area.
“Nothing. If there were predators, the bones are clean. Wagons might still be there,” Mira said.
“They were blown east by the storm, right? We can break left, through that open wash to clear sand. There’s high ground there,” Silk said, pointing to a smudge of brown. She was right. That was where we would start.
“Alatus was supposed to be picked over by scavengers, right?” I asked. I knew that military bases were enormous, and my instincts told me that no matter how desperate people had been, something would be left behind.
“Everyone knew about it. One of the biggest ruins in the area and close to a road,” Mira said with a shrug as if that was reason enough to consider Alatus dead and buried.
Once again, my memory clicked, and something from my past let loose like a silent film, scrolling through my head with images of me in a car, busy streets, and a map of a life that was long dead.
“I’ve been here before,” I said. I let the memory keep washing over me, and the pictures came clear. “I was here. Twice, I think, but once for sure. I know this place. Altus Air Force Base, and I’m willing to bet it isn’t scoured clean of everything.”
“You were...here?” Silk asked.
“This is where I’m from. This is my home state. I went to sleep in a tube less than twenty miles from my hometown, and I woke up in the future, but—damn, I remember now.” I closed my eyes, shaking through the time I spent here, placing buildings, roads. The hangars, admin, and all the things that went into a base.
When I opened my eyes, I pointed to a cluster of buildings a half click from everything else, the tops barely visible through the thin pattern of the shifting dunes.
“Bet the scavengers didn’t get in there,” I said.
“Can we?” Silk asked.
Mira had her hand up, blocking the sun. “Never been in those. They were buried when my parents started scavenging.”
“That’s the thing about sandstorms. They bury things, but they also expose the past. I saw a storm uncover a city wall that was four thousand years old, and no one had ever suspected it was there. The science geeks went nuts, called it a lost city. Well, we have our own lost city, but this one isn’t from a culture that died out before modern people came around. This is my culture, and my people,” I told them.
Mira hitched her pack up, smiling. “Then what are we waiting for?”
“You brought your shovels?” I asked her. Silk nodded, having a small, folding shovel sticking out of her pack. So did Mira, and mine was tied to the frame of my ruck, it
s blade bright from years of previous use. It was about to go back in service. I smiled, sensing that answers and loot were under our feet. “Let’s dig.”
28
We didn’t hit access on the first hole.
It was third. I muffled a shout of success when my shovel clanged off an intact door, eight feet down and three feet forward in a narrow trench I dug, leaving me filthy and wheezing. Even my ‘bots had limitations, though a normal man would have taken two days to move the sand that I did in less than three hours. Mira and Silk were strong, working together in a chain gang to move the sand away from my area as I kept digging down, down, finally, hitting pay dirt.
The door was heavy, metal, and pitted with age, but buried long enough that it had been sheltered from the worst of the Empty. I ran my fingers over the surface, wondering how long it took for steel to acquire the look of battered scrap, then, for the first time asked myself the question. Did I even want to know how long I’d been asleep? The past was dead, my life gone. I had Silk, Mira, this place, and a lifetime of work ahead of me if I wanted it, so what was the purpose of knowing something as meaningless as the year?
With my shovel resting on the ground, I had the answer. It mattered a lot.
I had to know. The date would reveal things that the virus kept hidden, like how fast and how far mankind had fallen, when creatures became part of the landscape, and how we decided to enslave the big ogres with eyes that looked far too human for me to treat them like animals. The world had gone batshit crazy, and putting a time frame on it would let me start the work I knew had to be done.
Some of what the virus did was permanent. I couldn’t raise the dead, unbury cities, or even ask the monsters of the Empty to kindly walk away.
But I could reclaim the good parts of the world, and it would start with something as simple as a date. “Clearing this door. Mira, gun on it, please?”
“Got it,” she said behind me. I heard her feet shuffle to get a better view. The sun was still up, but fading fast. “Torches in Silk’s pack. We don’t have to wait if you don’t want to.”
Future Reborn Page 16
