AntiBio: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (25 page)

56

The boy is snuggled down in a furry circle of dogs when the com unit starts to crackle.

“Kid,” Milo says, groggy. “Hey, kid? Something is shitting itself.”

“Wha
…” Jude asks, pulling himself from sleep. “Who has to shit?”

“Over there,” Milo says, pointing. “Something is happening.”

“That’s the com,” Jude says, disentangling from the pile of bug hounds.

He scrambles over to a small box tucked into a nook. Grabbing at the box, he fumbles it open and pulls out an ancient looking handset. Jude twists two knobs then flicks a switch.

“Go ahead,” he says into the handset. “Identify yourself. Over.”

“Hey, son,” Red’s voice replies. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice.”

“You too, Pop,” Jude says. “Where are you?”

“On our way,” Red says. “But, there’s something you need to do before we get there. Then once it’s done you have to move fast, okay? Your position is compromised.”

“Is Control coming?” Jude asks.

There is a long pause before Red replies, “I don’t know what Control is doing anymore, son. Things aren’t as black and white as they used to be. But we’ll leave that for later. Right now you need to remove and destroy every PSC around you.”

Jud looks at the dogs. “That’s not going to be easy. The bug hounds don’t know me.”

“You’ll need the operators to help,” Red says. “And I know it won’t be easy, but it has to be done. Can you handle it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then I can handle it,” Jude responds. “Where will we meet?”

“The bolt hole by Lisbon’s Crease,” Red says. “We’ll beat you there. If I don’t see you by sundown next I’ll come looking.”

Jude looks at the wounded operators. “It may take us longer than that. I don’t have the Slides anymore.”

“That’s good,” Red says. “Anything that’s Clean Guard or Control needs to be ditched. Get rid of it all and then move ass.”

“Will do, Pop,” Jude replies. “We’ll see you soon. Over.”

“Over,” Red replies and the connection ends.

Jude looks at Hoagie and Milo.

“Cut into my bug hound first,” Milo says. “Show the dogs what’s happening. They see Tequila getting his removed and it will prepare them. They’ll need preparation since their people aren’t here.”

“The GenWrecks dogs will keep them in line,” Jude says.

“Let’s avoid a full out dog fight, okay?” Milo says. “Where’s a stat blade?”

Jude pulls a short, sharp steel blade and holds it up in the dim light of the bolt hole. “No stat,” he says. “Going to have to go full steel.”

“That’ll hurt more,” Milo frowns. “Great.” He sighs. “Better get started.”

Jude kneels next to Milo
as the man wraps his arms about his bug hound. Tequila growls low, but Milo hushes him with a stern look. Jude studies Tequila’s fur then places the blade against it.

“Ready?” Jude asks.

“As much as I’ll ever be,” Milo says. Hoagie lets out a long snore and Milo kicks him. “Hey! Wake your ass up, operator. If I’m going through this, you’re going to watch.”

“Huh? What?” Hoagie snorts. “Jesus…every time I wake up the shit just gets worse.”

“It’s going to get a lot worse than this,” Milo grins then winces, holding his dog in as tight a grip as he can muster, as Jude starts cutting.

“Great,” Hoagie says.

57

With all of the operators’ PSCs successfully removed, Jersey looks down at her wrist.

“I can do it for you,” Paulo says, wrapping his own wrist as the StatFoam sets. “Give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

“Just assist,” Jersey says. “I’ve had to do worse things to myself before.”

Resting next to her, Blaze opens an eye. “Like what?”

“You don’t want to know,” Jersey says. “Things aren’t always fun in the Burn, remember?”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Blaze says.

Jersey takes a deep breath and starts to cut. She cries out involuntarily and feels like a baby after the way the operators handled it. But she’s not trained to endure superhuman levels of pain; she’s trained to fix shit. And that’s what she focuses on: fixing shit. Just happens that the shit is her.

It takes twice as long to complete, due to the awkwardness of self-surgery, but she removes the PSC without losing consciousness, so she counts that as a win.

With her duties done, and Nick driving fine despite the fresh wound, Jersey eases down and relaxes next to Blaze on the transport floor. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion and she’s about to give in to the fatigue when she notices the orb floating low by the floor, tucked into the aft corner of the transport.

She summons her strength and crawls over to the thing, looking about to make sure everyone else is occupied.

“Worm?” she asks. “Why’d you show me the dogs?”

There’s no response, not that she expects one. Worm hasn’t responded to anything in a long while.

“I get leading me through the maze of Control,” Jersey says. “And I thank you for that since there would have been no way to find Blaze otherwise. But why show me those dogs? Why lead me in there to do what I had to…do?”

The orb just bounces lightly on its hover patches, floating a few inches above the transport floor. Jersey studies it, noticing the small gouges, scratches, and dents in its surface. She reaches out and the orb moves closer to her hand.
The surface is rough and hot, not the cool smoothness Jersey was expecting.

“Why are you still driving that thing, Worm?” Jersey asks. “Just drop it and concentrate on your repairs.”

“I have,” Worm replies softly from a speaker port just above her head.

“Hey, Worm,” Jersey smiles. “Welcome back.”

“Who were you conversing with?” Worm asks.

“You,” Jersey replies.

“No, Ms. Cale,” Worm says. “I have been offline until just this moment. I came into the conversation when you were telling me to concentrate on my repairs.”

Jersey looks at the orb and frowns. “But what about the orb?”

“Orb?” Worm asks. “I do not detect an orb present on the transport. Can you describe it to me?”

“Small,” Jersey says. “Maybe as big as my head. It’s old, but seems to be in working order.”

“I still do not see it and I am scanning through all spectrums,” Worm says. “What model is it?”

Jersey leans in closer and the orb bobs away then stops, letting Jersey look at the worn manufacture plate welded underneath between two hover patches.

“M-something,” Jersey says. “M-blah blah 325.”

“The Morgenfeld 325 model was discontinued,” Worm states. “There should not be any in active use. They are an outdated model with limited capabilities and only low level Ai functions.”

“It was pretty capable in Control,” Jersey says. “It’s how you got me around there.”

“Ms. Cale, I did not assist you in Control,” Worm says. “And I do not detect a Morgenfeld 325 onboard the transport.”

Jersey looks at the floating machine. “Should I be worried?”

“No, Ms. Cale, I will do the worrying
for us,” Worm states. “If the Morgenfeld 325 helped you as you said it did then I do not see why it would be a threat. The fact I cannot detect it tells me it does not have any traceable technology present which means it should not compromise our flight into the Sicklands.”

“So
we don’t have to kick it out the hatch?” Marco asks.

Jersey jerks and looks about the transport, realizing everyone is watching her.

“It’s a small space,” Blaze says. “We’re trained to observe.”

Red gets up and wal
ks over to the orb, squatting down in front of it. The machine floats closer to Jersey.

“It seems to be attached to you,” Red says. “Worm is
right; we used to see a lot of these things after GenSOF was created. Half the time they’d glitch out and lead whole squads into dead ends and ambushes. It all went a lot smoother once they were replaced with better models.”

Red reaches out, but the orb ducks away.

“Touchy little thing,” Red says then fixes his eyes on Jersey. “For the record, I’m not good with this being onboard.”

Jersey’s eyes widen and she looks at the rest of the operators. Similar looks of suspicion are on their faces.

“It saved my ass and helped me save Blaze,” Jersey says. “It stays.”

“I figured,” Red nods. “But it is a risk. The second it acts like a liability I will destroy it.”

“You won’t have to,” Jersey says.

“Hey,” Blaze speaks up. “I know that thing. It scanned me when I first got to Control with Dr. DeBeers. She was pissed it hadn’t been destroyed.”

“It pissed off DeBeers?” Ton asks. “Then it’s good in my book.”

“Like I said, if it becomes a liability then I’ll have to follow through on what DeBeers wanted,” Red says. “I’ll destroy it without a thought.”

“You guys get your dogs,” Jersey says. “I get my orb. Even if I have no idea what it really wants.”

“No different than half the women I’ve hooked up with,” Marco says.

“So that would be all of one then?” Collette laughs.

“Funny,” Marco smirks. “Good one.”

“Okay, fun time over,” Red says, going back to his seat. “We all have jobs to do. Let’s do them. It’s a hundred clicks to the next bolt hole.”

The operators settle
into their duties, each maintaining eyes on the surrounding Sicklands as Nick carefully drives them through valleys and ravines that the GenSOF operators had no clue existed. But then they’re exposure to the Sicklands had been limited to designated routes between Clean Nation cities and Control.

“Control,” Ton says, spinning his seat around to face Red. “What was that about?”

“No clue,” Red says. “I haven’t tried to fully process it yet.”

“
All those cylinders,” Ton states.

“
Yep, all those cylinders,” Red agrees.

“Not exactly
what I was expecting,” Ton says. “Not after what you explained.”

“At this point, all bets are off,” Red says. “The reality of Control does not fit the intel we have received
or what I ever experienced.”

“I am as confused as you, Captain,” Worm says, interrupting. “The intelligence I encountered was not what I expected. The behavior of the machines in Control as well as the lack of active personnel
are quite troubling and put our entire campaign into question.”

“We don’t know who or what we are fighting anymore, do we?” Ton asks. “You are as in the dark now as we were when you rescued our asses.”

“Hey, speak for yourself,” Paulo sneers. “I didn’t need rescuing. I was holding my own.”

“Hiding behind a pile of dog corpses?” Marco laughs. “You had that situation 100% under control, operator.”

“Kiss my GenSOF ass,” Paulo says.

“No, thanks, I don’t want what you got,” Marco laughs again.

“The point is that we are all now flying blind,” Ton says. “Which means we don’t know who to trust or what to believe.”

Red watches him for a second and then nods. “I don’t want to admit it, but you are right.
Control is lost. Any help we had from there is gone.”

“
So we go it alone? Just us?” Nick asks. “Or we contact other bases?”

Red takes a deep breath. “This is too big for us to
completely go it alone,” he replies. “We have to trust that Coffin base is still secure and the rest of our squads can be trusted. As for the other GenWreck bases? I don’t know. Some of the commanders Ton and I know from way back.”

“Like who?” Ton asks.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Red says. “But others I don’t know for shit. Some could be trustworthy; others could be a part of this. Whatever this is.”

“Anyone want to talk about why all those Cooties were outside Control?” Collette asks. “Not to change the subject, but that’s been bothering me.”

“They were called,” Worm says.

“Can you elaborate?” Ton asks.

“No, Lieutenant, I cannot,” Worm states. “I am sorry. But all I can say is they were called by Control. For what ends, I am unsure.”

“Add that to the mysteries list,” Ton says. “And it’s already a long list.”

“The reality of it all is we have been working under a set of assumptions based on what we deemed were hard facts,” Red says. “Those facts have either been shattered or are under some serious fucking scrutiny. Until we know for sure what is real and what isn’t, we circle the wagons and stay tight.”

“So dig in and wait?” Blaze asks. “See what move Control makes next?”

“I don’t want to dig in,” Red says. “We’ll get nowhere that way. No, we’re going to get strong and then take this to the Sicklands. We go base to base and feel them out. Trust our guts. Any hint of weird and we bolt, writing off that base as compromised.”

“Then what?” Paulo asks. “After we clear the bases or root out collaborators, what do we do?”

“Only thing we can do,” Red shrugs. “Take it to the people. We hit the Clean Nation cities. Infiltrate back in and see where they stand.”

“This is going to take time we may not have,” Ton says.

“That’s why we need the rest of my folks,” Red says.

The operators look at each other, none too happy with the situation they have been put in. Even the GenWrecks are having a hard time reconciling what they know and what they have seen with what they have to do.

“Okay,” Ton nods. “We have a plan. It’s thin and small, but a plan.”

“It is always good to have a plan, Lieutenant,” Worm says. “Even if it only brings clarity to the chaos.”

“You are such the philosopher,” Blaze laughs.

“I have many qualifications,” Worm replies. “But philosophy is not one of them. That is a wholly human characteristic.”

“If only more humans had utilized it,” Red says, looking at his screen and the image of the desolate Sicklands. “We probably wouldn’t be where we are today.”

“Eighty clicks, sir,” Nick says. “You think your boy is on his way?”

“I fucking hope so,” Red says. “I sure as fucking hope so.”