Nightmare Factory, page 29
I could see her shoulders shaking, and I knew she was laughing. I deserved it. I was once an Army Ranger, and I’d been outfoxed by two women who worked in an office.
“Smart,” I said.
“Still something bothering me, though. My AI was knocked offline. Did you see Damiana do anything?”
If I expected my admitting to having an AI would catch her off guard, it did not.
Carol said she hadn’t and appeared ready to move on from the topic. I was somewhat contented in just watching her walk. Wearing only the cobalt blue Rivex base layer did amazing things for her figure. A half hour later, we left the road to detour around a mass of stalled cars when the smell of death encompassed us like a fog.
“Oh, my God,” Carol muttered, trying not to gag.
I could have slipped my helmet on and blocked it out, but that seemed unfair. Sumo seemed to have no problem with the smell and was checking out a house just ahead. It was an upscale, newer one, clad mostly in real brick from what I could tell.
“We should check it out,” she said. “We need supplies.”
We debated it for a few minutes, but the woman was becoming increasingly vocal and forceful. I had to admit; I found it rather sexy. In my kit, I found simple filter masks for us to wear. It blocked just enough of the odor that we could function.
‘The Johnsons’ the sign by the door read. I knocked and looked at Carol, and I could tell just from her eyes that she was grinning.
“Such manners,” she said as she thumbed the knob and the door swung open.
Unlocked was good, right? The smell got instantly stronger. By now, we were both familiar with the odor of rotting bodies, but the smell of rotting corpses inside a house was new for us. The home was really nice, the kind most people would have worked their entire lives to live in. Richly furnished, with real wood paneling lining an elegant den and library. I could see a chef’s kitchen over to the right. High-end appliances and granite counters framed the perfectly designed and now mostly useless room.
“Hello!” Carol called out. The silence answered her back with a dreary nothingness.
“This place is a crypt,” I said, looking down at a pile of fur that might have once been a cat. Or judging by the size, it was more likely a dog.
“Check out the pantry, see if there’s food,” I said. “I’ll go, you know…”
A quick circuit of the ground floor yielded no bodies and nothing useful, not in the current world at least. Expensive Holovision sets, high-end video game systems, and something that might be a virtual workout machine. The visual of Carol doing naked Pilates popped into my head again. Stop that, I voiced internally. I saw Ada pop up a visual of a question mark on her ocular overlay. I shook my head. “Nothing.”
The second floor was where I found the first body. An older woman, her skin was leathery and puckering in places from the decay. The discovery in the master bedroom suggested the woman was likely living with the family, maybe she was the grandmother or mother, it was hard to tell the age. The couple lay in a bed; the duvet was covered with dried vomit and what looked like shit. Death is not tidy, not even when you bring it on yourself. An empty bottle of pills lay between the man and the woman.
Carol made it upstairs and came to me, taking my arm. She held up a bag showing her find from the kitchen. I moved out of the room and almost headed down the stairs. That’s what I should have done. Instead, I slowly opened the door at the end of the hall. It was a girl’s room, judging by the decorations and posters on the wall. I would have guessed her as a teenager. The tiny lump on top of the covers made me realize she had been younger. Carol gasped and shielded her eyes.
I carefully unwrapped myself from Carol and moved over closer to the bed. The tiny body had a thick head of still bright blonde hair. One part of her skull was missing. A widening arc of brownish spray seemed to erupt from the girl’s skull.
“They shot her,” I said in disbelief. “They shot their daughter, then took pills. What in the fuck was wrong with these people?”
Carol ran from the room, and I followed closely behind. We hurried away from the house, my lack of compassion for the dead parents inside growing with each step. They had food; they had water. They could have held on. What in the world would make someone do that, do that to their own daughter?
Ada’s warning and the sound of a round ricocheting off the pavement reached my brain simultaneously. The next round pinged off my chest plate, followed by a shouted command.
“On the ground. Now! Surrender your weapon or you will be shot.”
CHAPTER
SIXTY-EIGHT
BANSHEE
Hell’s Kitchen was nearly in as bad a shape as lower Manhattan, with less flooding, but more ruined buildings. Midtown was better, and the Northside looked to be in good shape. Still, the team had seen very few people out. Now that they were on dry land again, they had to avoid the crush of abandoned cars and delivery trucks that were packed into each slice of road like pickles in a jar. The entrance to the Holland Tunnel was a festering mess of corpses, cars, and more of the damn vines covering everything.
Sergeant Dae pulled the Wulf to a stop near Columbus Circle. Riggs climbed out and signaled to the others to stay alert.
“I’m telling you, man, G-force is a beast,” Halo said to Priest as they both used the transport monitors to scan opposite sides of the street.
They had been discussing it since the scene with the cops. Gi, for his part, downplayed it; he was not a fan of being singled out just for doing his job. He had a long way to go to earn the trust of Banshee team, he knew that.
“I’m not kidding, dude moves like Prowler. Super-fast and just as deadly. Fool even went back down to get his armor even with those damn sharks in a feeding frenzy!”
“Dae, you get upgraded, too?”
“Only by nature,” he said, the hint of a smile on his face. He hoped to meet the one they called Prowler. He knew the master sergeant was the official leader of Banshee team but also knew he’d not been with them on the last mission. Master Sergeant Kovach had a reputation that extended far into the corps. Maybe not to the degree that the more senior Colonel Kovach still held, but as far as reputations went, Joe’s was getting damn close.
Bayou was surveying the growing piles of bodies in Central Park. Several blocks back, in Times Square, the venomous vines were covering every solid surface. “This city won’t be coming back from this one,” she muttered. She also could see no way to cross over into Queens. The bridges had fared even worse than the tunnels. From what she could see, though, everything out in the direction of Alliance Headquarters was just ruins.
“Packer to Banshee, Packer to Banshee.”
Bayou tapped the tac channel on her comms. Why was the dropship pilot calling them on the all-company channel?
“Go ahead, Packer, this is Bayou. Did you pass along the intel?”
“Yes, lieutenant, just like you said.”
The TriCraft pilot seemed disoriented and confused. Something dropship pilots never were. “So, what’s the issue?” Bayou asked.
“Something cut off our comms just as the major was acknowledging receipt. She’d ordered a battle alert.”
“Comms are down? That’s it? Captain, we are on a miss…”
“Look to the west. Seventy degrees from your location.”
Bayou saw the others emerging out of the Wulf. They were hearing the pilot as well. They all moved toward the park entrance, where they had a clear view of much of the western sky. She saw a white contrail with specks of orange and yellow.
“It’s the Alice Springs,” Packer said. “They were just attacked!” The massive carrier was already stationed in a dangerous low orbit; it was clearly visible and now directly above the city. “That’s thousands of souls on board.”
“Who did it?” Halo yelled into his suit mic.
“Ignore that,” Bayou said as calmly as she could. “Are you safe?”
“I believe so, yes. I am in a LEO, well clear of the debris,” Packer answered.
Low Earth orbit, or LEO, was still considered space, just not the higher and safer altitudes of longer duration craft.
“Can you render aid? Do you see any lifeboats?” Bayou asked.
The lifeboats were little more than larger versions of the ballistic pods Banshee used on their drops. They would save lives, though.
“No, to both. I have no vacuum lock, no way I can take on survivors. Also, I was relatively close when the attacks came. I don’t think anyone is getting off that boat. Not alive.”
The pilot was calming down finally, signs of the normal cool demeanor returning. Bayou watched the Alice Springs flaming out as it descended to the east, pieces of it already raining down into the Atlantic.
“Captain, get down here on the deck. Pick us up. This mission is a bust. Let’s go somewhere we can do some good.”
“Gi, get us into a clearing in the park. Send Captain Packer the coordinates.”
CHAPTER
SIXTY-NINE
LUX
Something woke the boy before the sun came up, a sound. It was the dog; he was whining to be let out of the car. Lux cracked the door, and the puppy scooted off into the nearby woods. Lux looked into that dark tangle of vines and trees, thinking about all he’d seen the day before. He’d hoped it was just a bad dream, but deep down, he knew it had been real. The plants were attacking. That might not be completely true, but it sure felt like they were.
He reached down to his leg and pulled the stretchy bandage down. The burn from the vine wrapped all the way around his leg now. That much was real. He’d been in the woods off and on for weeks, and nothing like that had happened. Countless vines and roots had tripped him up, but the worst that had happened was a scraped knee.
“Come on back, boy. Where are you?”
Maybe the dog was heading back to his house. That’s what dogs do, isn’t it? He wasn’t sure, but that sounded right. That was what Timber had done.
“Hey, boy!
Maybe it wasn’t a boy. How did you even tell? He recalled a show where a vet flipped one upside down. Was it written on their belly or something?
“Hey, girl!”
The puppy peeked its head out of some bushes; it cautiously sniffed the air before walking back over and sitting down at Lux’s feet.
“Girl?” Lux asked.
The dog wagged its tail.
“Okay, girl, it is, but you need a better name. ‘Girl’ won’t do it.”
He’d already checked the dog for a tag. She had a collar, but nothing but a bunch of letters and numbers on it. They sat back inside the autocar. Lux took some of the food he’d saved and split it with the dog. She devoured everything he put in front of her.
“What about Lucy?” He looked at the brown eyes, silently pleading for more food. “You know, like those really old cartoons?” The dog didn’t seem to recall.
“Okay, no Lucy.” He thought some more. “Junie?”
He thought the month was June, but he liked the name, anyway. She wagged the thick tail again. Junie it was. They packed up, and they were soon back on the road in the blue-toned hours of early morning. He wanted to be away from this place. It was all wrong here, and now he knew why there were no people.
“We gotta avoid the vines, Junie. Don’t just go running off, okay?”
As the road turned away from the cluster of houses far below, he heard a sound and turned to watch one of the houses crash down. He’d heard the sounds the night before, too. Thick, violet vines choked with clusters of blue-green leaves were already covering over half of the little subdivision. In time, they will wipe away any sign that people ever lived here. Lux still didn’t understand it but knew he should avoid them.
At the next intersection, he turned onto a road that moved farther away from the stinging vines. His limp was getting worse, and he sat for a minute to catch his breath and cautiously removed the bandage. The burns on his leg had raised, red lines spreading out from them. They itched and were warm to the touch. He knew this wasn’t good.
Junie came over and licked his face. He felt the tears trying to come again, but he gritted his teeth and fought them back. He cupped his hand and gave the dog some water from a bottle, then took a deep drink himself. Ahead on the side of the road, he caught sight of something reflecting in the morning sun.
As Lux hobbled over, Junie investigated. The metal was sticking out of a cluster of vines, but not the mean kind. Junie would have let him know. These were just the regular kind with long flowers. Honeysuckles, he thought they were called.
“It’s handlebars. Maybe from a bike.”
He pulled and pulled, but the vines had it wrapped tight. Every inch he gained, the vines took back when he eased up. Finally, he walked back to where he’d set the pack down and dug out the pocketknife Mister Bill had given him. Carefully, he opened it, being respectful of the sharp edge, just like the man had taught him. He began cutting through vines until he could see the front wheel, then back along the frame until he saw pedals. It was a girl’s bike with a bright pink basket on the front.
The chain was off and rusting, and one wheel scrubbed a little every time it went around. Still, with a little work, he could pedal it around in a circle. He used a tree and his pry bar to straighten the bent wheel enough for it to rotate freely.
“We got wheels, girl!”
He scratched at his leg, which was already throbbing. Below the burn, his foot tingled like it was asleep. “Come on Junie. Let’s ride.”
The puppy appeared much less enthusiastic about the contraption the kid had pulled from the overgrowth, but her ears perked up at another noise from deeper in the woods. The sound evoked a flight response, and she eagerly jumped into the pink basket, ready to be far away from it.
Lux noticed the dog’s attention shift and understood the danger it represented. “We’re going, girl. Just hang on tight.” No longer would his trip home be a peaceful romp through the woods. He strapped on his pack and pedaled away from the intersection, away from the morning sun, and away from the evil vines creeping up from the valley below.
* * *
Soon he noticed other animals fleeing. Two deer, then five more, came out on the road and ran beside him. Later, a line of turkeys chattered out in front and a big one flared its wings and scared him so badly he nearly fell. They were all more afraid of something else. Something back there.
Lux followed the animal migration, trusting they would know where safety was better than him and Junie.
He had to push the bike up a very long hill. At the top, he rested a minute and let the puppy go to the bathroom. There were less of the fleeing animals now, the larger ones having easily out-distanced him, and the smaller ones probably not fast enough to escape the creeping vines. Still, he watched a continuous line of black ants moving along the side of the road in the same direction. These woods would be silent tonight. His blood ran cold at the thought. The only sounds would be the plants choking the life out of whatever was left behind.
He helped Junie back into the basket, then straightened the bike, climbed on, and resumed pedaling. Almost immediately, he heard a loud nose.
“That was a gunshot,” Lux whispered to the dog as he tried to slow. The road was slanting sharply down now, and he was picking up speed. A small off-road vehicle was parked ahead, partially blocking the road. Through the wind racing past, he heard excited voices, then saw three men, all with guns. One was holding up the front part of a deer; blood covered the side of the animal’s head. It made Lux sick to look at it. He raced toward the men who heard the bike and started yelling for him to stop. One of them raced into the road and held his arms wide.
Lux was scared of them. Mister Bill’s words about some people being mean echoed in his mind. He eyed the puppy, who had been perched with two paws on the edge of the pink basket, anxiously looking forward. Then, she turned to look back at him. He’d rescued her, now he was responsible. He wasn’t sure that was the way it was supposed to be, but it was what felt right.
“I won’t let them get you, girl!” I won’t let them get either of us, was what he thought.
The bike continued to pick up speed at an alarming pace. The downhill seemed far steeper and longer than the other side had been. His eyes watered from the wind whipping past, and then the man with the gun was suddenly right there, reaching out for him. Lux swerved the bike, nearly running off the road, but ducked beneath the man’s outstretched hands.
He pedaled even harder, the bike racing away from the gunmen, who he could now hear were chasing after him. The sound of pursuit faded as he got farther and farther down the mountain. The front wheel, which had been the bent one, began to wobble worse. The more speed he had, the worse the wobble. Soon, the whole bike was shaking, and he was weaving all over the road. He knew he was about to crash just as the wheel left the pavement. He leaned over the basket to protect Junie as they plunged over a steep drop-off. Tree limbs grabbed at him as he fell through the forest, then a low branch caught him in the chest and separated him from the bike. He flew back, landing hard and unable to breathe. He heard the bike continue its journey without him for a few more seconds before it went silent, and Junie gave a tiny yelp of pain.
CHAPTER
SEVENTY
KOVACH
There are times in every soldier’s life when you question your career choices. What kind of idiot would take a job for lousy pay? A job where other people are allowed to try and kill you? If you’re like most people, you probably make good money, maybe you’re still a student, or maybe you’re retired, but did you ever go to work and have one of your competitors try to stab you down in the break room? Maybe a sniper round to the brainpan at a trade show. Right… yeah, this was one of those cathartic moments where I reevaluated my life’s choices.
