The Steel Harvest
Authors: J.D. Miller
The Steel Harvest
By J.D. Miller
The Steel Harvest
by J.D. Miller
Copyright © 2016 by J.D. Miller
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Photography by 5demayo / morguefile.com
First Edition, 2016
Edited
by Karen Robinson of INDIE Books Gone Wild
Proofread
by Jennifer Oberth of INDIE Books Gone Wild
To Adam, Gail, Jay Direx, and everyone else who’s pushed and driven me toward this point in my life. You guys are all amazing, and I couldn’t have done it without you.
Okay. Here goes nothing.
Stepping off the main street, Carter followed the back alley away from the throngs of people bustling behind him. He shivered as he trudged toward the only open door in the dark alley. When he got to the door, he pulled on a beanie and a worn pair of fingerless gloves. Then he grabbed some soot from the ground and smeared it lightly on his face.
The devil is in the details. You’ve always got to look the part, or you’ll never get your foot in the door.
Carter had his work cut out for him. In this shady little pub, raiding parties sat waiting to recruit. With the recent escalation in violence across the east coast, parties sought the toughest of recruits, and startups like Arcfall were no exception. Carter pulled out his mirror to check himself. Instead of his usual youthful trader face, the reflection reminded him of someone used to getting his hands dirty. Equipping a serious expression over his already somber features, he stepped toward the door.
A large man with broad shoulders and a thick bald head blocked the way. Carter stood tall and unfazed, extending his hand toward the man.
“Good morning, sir.”
The man looked down at Carter’s hand, then at his face, and snorted. “Business?”
“Yes, I’m here to see Mr. Marcus Ward about a job opening in the Arcfall Covenant.” Carter switched to a calm smile as he lowered his hand back to his side. “Is he in?”
The man snorted again, grinning. Carter watched, stomach churning beneath his polite facade.
“It’s your funeral, bub. Please surrender any and all weapons you might be concealing as well as your bag. You can claim them on your way out.”
Carter complied by slinging his bag off his shoulder and handing it to the man. Next, Carter removed his gun, pulled a single bullet from the barrel, and then handed both to the man. He dropped the gun into the bag and stuck it in the corner of the doorway before putting the bullet in his pocket and finally stepping aside to let Carter through. Taking a deep breath, he strode into the pub.
The establishment held almost no resemblance to the bars lining the main road. The usual cheery atmosphere and bright lights were replaced by a minimally lit room. The overwhelming silence, save for the muttering of several mercenary bands, spread across the private area like a shroud. Carter exhaled slowly, amazed at the spectacle.
“You’re Mr. Hale, I presume?”
The voice, which resonated from a booth in the corner, stopped Carter in his tracks.
The speaker sat in shadows. For a moment, as all eyes drifted to Carter, he felt his heart seize, but he quickly shoved his panic into the recesses of his mind. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward, flashing his trader’s grin.
“Yes, sir. Am I to assume you are Mr. Ward?”
The man waved his hand in the air. Almost instantly, everyone in the room exited without a second glance. After the bald bouncer closed the back door, a waiter approached the man who had spoken. Carter watched quietly, glued to his spot as his stomach twisted uncomfortably.
“Yes, sir?” the waiter said.
“Please grab Drew from the back room. I want his opinion on this one.”
The waiter nodded and then stepped into the back of the pub.
The man in the booth motioned toward the other seat. “What are you waiting for?” He made a grand motion with his hands. “Sit down.”
Through sheer force of will, Carter slipped into the seat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was able to see the man’s face clearly. He was in his late twenties, with spiky jet-black hair and a scar running over his left eye. Carter tapped his foot, and the man curled his lips into a sneer.
“No need to be so nervous. This is a simple interview. My name is indeed Marcus Ward. I am leader of the Arcfall Covenant.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Carter Hale.”
Marcus nodded as a second man entered the room. The stocky newcomer carried himself with importance. He rubbed his shaved head and pulled up a stool to sit next to the booth, effectively blocking Carter from escaping.
“You called for me, boss?” the man asked Marcus.
“Yes, Drew. Survey the interview. I want to know what you think of Mr. Hale here.”
Drew stared at Carter for a moment and then nodded without another word. As he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, he noticed Marcus grab something under his coat. After a moment, he pulled a revolver from his breast pocket and slammed it on the table.
“I couldn’t help but notice you came here with your gun today, Mr. Hale.” Marcus hissed, his serpent-like voiced slithering around Carter, constricting his movements. Marcus watched Carter carefully, as if testing him.
“My old master once warned me to never trust anyone. He told me to always be prepared to fight my way out of any situation because those you should be able to trust will hurt you the most,” Carter said.
Marcus chuckled. “From your tone, it sounds as if he taught you that lesson by example.”
Carter flashed his best trader’s grin.
“Still, why you brought it with you today is not important. Anyone who travels through the wilderness should do so armed, but not everyone who carries a gun can fire one. Can you, Mr. Hale?”
Marcus had Carter now. He curled his fist under the table, hoping to God that Drew wouldn’t notice. Dropping his grin, Carter glared at Marcus.
“I can if I have to.”
“Oh?”
Marcus now stood, towering from above with a sneer. Picking up his revolver, he cocked the hammer and fired straight into the floor. Chunks splintered from the wood, leaving a small hole in its wake. The three men stood stock-still. Carter barely stopped himself from jumping. Exhaling, he clenched his fist under the table. Marcus must have seen the reaction because he chuckled as he turned his back on the table.
“I’ve seen your type before, all balls until the shit hits the fan.”
“My village burned to the ground when I was six years old. I braved the wilderness for a year on my own, and I’ve been scavenging since I was ten. The past three years I’ve relied on nobody other than myself. So, with respect, I’ve seen more shit than you can possibly imagine.
Sir.
”
All three men grew deathly silent. Marcus continued to look away from the table, leaning on a chair facing the other side of the room. Carter’s heart pounded.
Never speak out of turn, especially during business. Now, stop being such a childish shit and take control of the situation.
“I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. I’ll take my leave if you wish.”
Marcus turned back to the table, his eyes colder than before but his sneer bigger than ever.
“No, you have spirit. That’s good. But, like I said, I’ve seen your kind before. You’re too soft. I’ll more than gladly give you a chance to prove yourself on my crew, but my bet’s you don’t even last a week.”
Finally, Marcus offered his hand. Carter, stomach burning, let his grin widen. He knew his own mettle. Marcus may have fancied himself intimidating, but he was hardly the first thug Carter had encountered in his travels.
Standing, he accepted Marcus’s hand and shook it vigorously. “Okay. I’m in.”
“It’s settled then. Welcome to the Arcfall Covenant, Mr. Hale. Your first job starts now.”
Carter yawned, stretching in his seat. After signing the Covenant’s contract and re-equipping his gear, he was waiting patiently while Marcus called the other seven members to the pub.
Once everyone was gathered, Marcus cleared his throat. “According to reports, a fresh wave of ships fell from The Shell last night.” He scanned the small crowd. “Three in total, one close enough to call dibs on.”
“Damn, that’s the fourth time this month,” one of the men muttered. “Wonder what’s making them crash so much.”
“Filthy inbreeds can’t see straight enough to fly, I reckon.”
“Heh, haven’t you heard? They’re too good to screw the old-fashioned way. I hear they grow their children in tubes!”
“Shut it!” Marcus growled, shooting a glare toward his men. “They might live a bit differently than us, but the fact remains that our biggest salvage associate is from The Shell, so shut your mouths!”
Damn, they’re racist.
Carter hid his discomfort by shoving his fist in his pocket.
Very little was known about the race of people who lived on The Shell. The massive structure had loomed over the Earth as long as anyone could remember. A section of the planetary exoskeleton covered Boston, blocking the sun during the mid-day heat.
“Anyway,” Marcus continued, “our goal is to scavenge the wreck and then head on back here. After today, we should have enough salvage to warrant sending a caravan to Montar. Everyone understand?”
The crowd whooped and hollered, causing a small uproar. Carter kept his cool, watching from the back of the room. One of the men stopped, making eye contact with Carter, who stiffened.
Here we go.
“Hey, boss, what’s with the tourist?”
Marcus glanced back at Carter. “Oh, him? That’s the newest member of our convoy, boys!”
The whole room grew quiet. Even the flies failed to buzz. Carter stood up straight, wearing his trader’s grin.
“Carter here is eager to prove himself,” Marcus drawled, slinging an arm around Carter. “So let me make this clear: anyone caught trying to help the newbie hits the road with him. If he can’t fend for himself, he’s not worthy of being one of us, isn’t that right?”
This time the room remained silent. Everyone nodded grimly, their heads low to the floor. Carter swallowed, looking at the others. No one wanted to make eye contact.
What the hell does Marcus have over these guys? Is he really that bad?
“All right, if there aren’t any more questions, time’s a wastin’!” Marcus said. “The rental shop outside the gate is holding our rides, so let’s move out!”
The men filed out of the pub, following the narrow street back to the main road. Carter brought up the rear, keeping his head low.
It’ll get easier. You just need to prove yourself.
A hand shot out, hindering Carter’s progress as he advanced toward the door. “Hey, kid.” It was the bouncer. His bulging eyes cut through Carter like a knife.
“Yeah?”
“You almost forgot this.” The giant held out a small bullet.
Carter accepted it. Pulling out his gun, he loaded the single round back into the chamber.
“Little one-shot pistol like that won’t do you much good in a firefight,” the bouncer commented.
Carter stared down at his gun for a moment. Then, shoving it back in his pocket, he met the bouncer’s stare. “I’ll manage.”
The bouncer chuckled, stepping back. Carter slipped through the door, refusing to glance back as he sprinted to catch up with the rest of the group.
Marcus glanced over his shoulder. “Do try to keep up,
greenhorn
.”
A spark ignited in Carter’s stomach, threatening to burn through. Taking a deep breath, he cemented the grin on his face.
“Whatever you say, sir.”
*****
The drive to the crash site took two hours. The transport carrier loomed in the distance, each section the same size as a three-story building back in Boston. Carter let loose a whistle as he circled the wreck, following the others as they slowed down. The ship lay half entrenched in the ground, split into three parts. The back end housing the engines burned like a bonfire, engulfed in a bright orange flame.
Carter killed the engine as the other party members slipped out of their seats, surrounding the front of the convoy where their leader waited. Marcus perched over the others from his roost on top of the car. He was silent while Carter grabbed his things and joined them. Some of the others shot him exasperated glances, but he ignored them.
I’m not here to make friends.
“Okay, everybody, you know the drill!” Marcus barked. “Spread out and cover a zone. Drew, Kyle, Ethan, you have zone one. George, Jack, Simmons, Barry, you’re coming with me and Pike to try to put out those fires in zone three. We need to salvage as much of the engines as we can.”
Marcus slipped down in front of his car. The others quickly fanned out, going to work. Carter considered his options but ultimately understood the ploy.
Stepping forward, he cleared his throat. “You want me on zone two, then?”
Marcus glanced over his shoulder, smiling wickedly. “If you think you can handle it, greenhorn.”
“By myself?”
“That a problem?”
“No, sir.” Carter shot his trader’s grin at Marcus. Then, refusing to give him another chance at belittlement, Carter set off toward the middle of the aircraft. Once he reached a safe distance, he slammed his fist into the side of the ship’s hull.
Bastard.
Carter dealt with people like Marcus all the time, but taking orders from them left a sour taste in the mouth.
There’s something about him. I can’t place it, but whatever it is, it makes my skin crawl.
Carter made a mental note to keep an eye on his new captain before forcing those thoughts away. Pulling out a flashlight, Carter slipped into the wreckage.
Inside, the hull smelled faintly of smoke and burnt sealant. He swept the flashlight across the room, taking in the massive scorch marks and sparking electronics littering the walls. From his limited experience with transport carriers, he knew the room must be a control center of some sort. He slid down the slanted floor toward the terminal in the far corner. Its screen was cracked in several spots, but the ship’s systems flickered to life as his hand slid over the monitor.
“Weird.”
The middle of the ship seemed to have its own power source, separate from the systems wired to the rest of the craft. Intrigued, Carter scrolled through the terminal to the system records.
Hmm…so the middle third of the ship is a prototype, huh? It’s designed to separate from the rest of the ship like some sort of escape vessel. It even has enough power to keep the damn thing running for more than a week. But why the hell didn’t it detach from the rest of the ship when it crashed?
Carter scrolled through the rest of the information but stopped once the text became too corrupted from the crash to read. Why did the escape vessel need so much power anyway? The Covenant could make a fortune off any undamaged tech, especially prototypes.
Score! Let’s see Marcus give me shit after this.
Carter flipped back through the terminal’s task log, selecting the “unlock all access points” directive at the bottom of the prompt listing.
With a massive groan, the middle section of the ship came back to life. Carter jumped, grabbing for his gun. A door disguised as part of the wall slid open, revealing a small corridor leading farther into the ship. Some ways down, a yellow light broke the darkness, pulsing over and over in the dark.
Well, shit.
Carter considered calling for the others but stopped short. He needed this: a solid find to cement his importance to the party. If he called the others now, any fame and glory lying ahead would fall to them. He steeled himself and advanced down the dark hall.
The hall’s shiny, metallic walls were untouched by the smoke and grime covering the rest of the wreck. Carter swallowed hard, putting both his flashlight and his gun in front of him. Ahead, the pulsing yellow light grew stronger.
At the end of the corridor Carter let his flashlight drop to his side. A crack roughly the length of his car jutted through the top of the hull, allowing a wave of sunlight into the room. Ten cylinder pods lined the walls of the room, five on each side. Nine lay shattered from the impact, with one untouched. Carter clenched his fist, holding back the urge to vomit. Four humans, presumably from The Shell, hung like puppets from wires in their pods. Each body was littered with cuts, limbs bent at odd angles.
What fresh hell is this?
Taking a deep breath, Carter forced himself toward the untouched pod.
There’s someone inside that thing.
A young girl lay within the final cylinder. She appeared fifteen or sixteen, with long auburn hair and a slender frame. Suspended by a yellowish, water-like substance, she floated within the confines of the pod, her body completely relaxed. Carter gulped, barely aware of his nose as it rebounded off the glass cover in front of him. The sunlight from the crack in the hull made her bare skin shine.
Who is she?
Carter put his hand to the covering. For once, his mind drew a blank. Scavenging often led to wrecks like this, but Carter couldn’t recall ever finding a survivor among the wreckage before. For a brief moment, he watched the girl, her chest heaving slightly as she breathed through a tube, her hair drifting around her. What should he do?
The serenity within the room shattered as a siren pierced the air. Carter jolted back, his hand slipping off the front of the pod. Inside, the girl’s face contorted, the breathing tube collapsing in on itself. Carter watched in horror as she convulsed.
Wake up, you idiot! She’s dying!
Behind Carter, the pulsing yellow light dulled red, pulsing faster and faster as the siren droned on. Scanning the room, he spotted a small terminal against the stairwell leading back to the hallway. Dashing to it, Carter flipped through the commands, heart pounding. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl’s neck arc back, her hands twitching as she fought to breathe. His gaze landed on the last option on the board, and he slammed his hand onto the large confirm button next to the console.
The sirens died, and the fluid within the final pod drained simultaneously. Noting the spinning gears on the side of the metal cylinder, Carter ran forward. The front of the pod promptly slid away, leaving the girl to fall to the deck with a thud.
Holy shit! Is she okay?
The girl coughed violently, pushing herself up with both arms. Leaning down next to her, Carter stripped off his hoodie, draping it over her back.
“Hey, are you okay? Are you all right?”
After a moment, the girl nodded in response.
Relieved, Carter ran back upstairs to the crew.
“Guys! Get over here, now!”
He dashed back down into the wreckage. Taking the stairs two at a time, he could see the girl hunched over on all fours. As she gagged and sputtered, a stream of the yellow liquid from her pod dripped from her mouth, coating the floor. Dropping to his knees, Carter tentatively patted her back. Behind him, the sound of footsteps grew louder and louder.
“What is it, greenho—” Drew stopped short, staring wide-eyed at the young girl in front of him. “Boss, you’re going to want to see this!”
A few moments later, Marcus strode into the room. He smelled of smoke, his hair littered with ash as he brushed himself off. The others were in similar states, the fire abandoned in light of Carter’s outburst. Marcus walked up behind Carter and the girl, putting a hand on Carter’s shoulder.
“Good work, but put that damn pistol away. You’re not going to need it here.”
Marcus’s voiced hinted malice as he leaned down to smile at the girl. He slouched patiently as she coughed up the rest of the liquid and wiped her mouth. When she finally glanced up, her scarlet-red eyes searched Marcus’s face.
“Hello, miss,” Marcus said. “My name is Marcus Ward. I’m a scavenger, and these are my men. Your ship has been in a very grave accident. Can you tell me your name?”
“S-Silvia. My name is Silvia,” the girl answered in a quiet voice.
Carter watched her, momentarily bewitched.
Marcus’s grin widened. “It’s very nice to meet you, Silvia. Tell me, are you from The Shell?”
“The-The Shell?”
“The exoskeleton surrounding the planet.”
“Oh, yes. I’m from The Shell.”
The girl named Silvia finally sat up. Zipping up the hoodie around her, she held her sides with both arms and looked around slowly. “The others…are they…”
“I’m sorry. You were the only survivor.”
Silvia simply nodded, staring down at the floor in front of her. Her arms quaked suddenly, and Carter caught a glimpse of a tear rolling down her cheek. Looking up at Marcus, her voice quavered. “Please, help me.”
Marcus glanced back at Drew. Catching the silent exchange, Carter watched the two men out of the corner of his eye. Drew seemed reasonable to a point, but Carter didn’t trust the captain in the slightest.