《Cleaning Up The Future》


 Startup

    <h1>2035</h1>


    Brook, New Cinalia


    If the rusted, green sign had been torn down and buried in the woods, countless lives would have been saved.


    An exhausted, sweating little man recognizes the sign¡¯s large, bold letters and his red rimmed eyes widen with excitement. ¡°Here, over here! I saw them run off the highway here! You have to come back this way to leave!¡± He scurries off to the side of the road and points to the sign, still proudly displaying the town¡¯s name, even while overgrown bushes threaten to conceal it. ¡°The only way around the forest is the river!¡±


    ¡°Find them!¡± a shrill voice orders from among the large crowd. Manic warriors storm across the decrepit highway, avoiding the shells of wrecked cars and the craters littering the asphalt.


    The Savage leader sends out dozens of followers to search the town. Their clothing is ripped and filthy with some combination of blood, food, and soil. Their heads are either barely covered with stringy hair or bald with pockmarked, burnt, and torn red skin. A short, metallic spear is held over a grimy shoulder; alongside dirty alabaster hair, while the wielder urges his men on.


    Their mouths gape open as they dash over and through obstacles. The large hunting party separates into groups of the most predatory, the most enthusiastic, and the most skittish members. Jointly they race to overtake their enemies with an unhinged look in their eyes. They are fueled by avarice and the desire to be uplifted from the nameless faces of their companions. To be honored by not only their robust commander, but the other lords of the Wastes.


    The Savages tear through the streets, kicking in apartment doors, and breaking store windows with rusted metal poles. Three of them are holding chains attached to malnourished dogs. They cackle and release the hounds into an apartment building, then trail behind them in search of prey.


    Another of the Savages runs into a convenience store. Her foot catches on a thick wire, sending her body crashing into an empty shelving unit. Behind the cashier counter, a pile of rigged explosives detonate.


    There¡¯s a blinding light followed by an earth-shattering blast. The concrete beneath the linoleum flooring is revealed. Glass, metal, and human flesh bury the entrance.


    Dilapidated post office walls shake as the people within grab for their weapons, medical supplies, and backpacks. The lobby is bustling with activity¡ªa place that formerly stood for order and reliability is now full of panicked disarray. Countless distraught souls tear through the last of their precious belongings, selecting which items to keep and which to discard, abandoned to the poor souls that¡¯ll carry on after they¡¯ve gone.


    Sid drinks from his jug of water and barely gets the lid on before dropping it onto a counter. He sweeps his gaze across the room, fully digesting the outcome his decisions have brought these people, feeling the weight of it. It¡¯s hard to swallow. The water doesn¡¯t take the edge off the taste of ash and bile that sits at the back of his throat.


    Parents haul their children along behind them. Their small, grimy faces can¡¯t decide what to focus on the most; the people rushing to the left or the people rushing to the right. Their parents wrench their arms forward when they lag behind. People grab soiled blankets off the messy floor and shove them into torn bags, or roll the material into balls to be held underneath an arm.


    ¡°We have to leave it! Leave it!¡± A rusted portable grill crashes to the ground. The owner crouches in front of the grill and shoves bits of coal into their pockets before rushing outside. Sid steps over the grill and through the shattered glass entrance. The shards crunch underneath his boots. He sidesteps a couple on the stairs, huddled together and talking in hushed tones.


    They have the same unkempt appearance as the rest of the group. Their torn clothing is layered under ragged hoodies with tattered sleeves. The edges of their pants are coated with the same mud caked over their worn shoes.


    Sid¡¯s long-sleeved shirt protects him from the chill in the air. It¡¯s a stained, faded green wool top. He rubs his palms together while he surveys the area. In the distance, smoke rises into the sky toward the epicenter of the town. Around him, civilians rush by and scurry off to the other side of the building.


    When he proceeds down the slanted steps, he avoids the muddy holes along the pavement. He narrowly avoids stepping into a puddle and pauses to scrutinize the post office¡¯s crumbling fa?ade. It¡¯s not more than a few seconds of consideration. In the distance, shouting draws his attention away from the remnant of the past.


    He follows the sounds to the parking lot, where a muscular figure stands among shuffling bodies. The man¡¯s short, peppered hair clashes with his bright blue jacket. ¡°Civilians, grab only what you can run with and move along,¡± he yells. ¡°Stragglers will be left behind. You have ten minutes left. I repeat, ten minutes!¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Sid skirts around the edge of the crowd and beckons the man over to where the rest of the team is waiting. Huge chunks of debris riddle the street and obstruct the road. Several dark-clothed individuals lounge on the stranded cars parked in front of the post office. A black bag is open on the dusty hood of a vehicle with ammunition stacked inside. Sid walks over to the middle of the meeting area and claps his hands a few times. The large man jogs over to listen.


    ¡°Carla''s booby trap idea bought us some sorely needed time.¡± Sid turns to the rest of the team. ¡°Dan is going to stay behind and ferry these people to route 296. We need ten minutes. Start the clock!¡±


    ¡°What?! No! You know this area much better than all of us.¡± Dan attempts to negotiate. ¡°I''ll lead the¡ª¡±


    Sid cut him off. ¡°Which means I should be the one distracting them. You''ll get lost without me. Plus, if anyone lags behind, I can''t muscle them to go faster. That''s your job. Go do your job, Dan.¡± Sid pulls a handgun from the waistband of his black cargo pants and checks the cartridge. Satisfied with its condition, he nods and grabs a few extra from the ammunition pile. He unzips two pockets to slip the extras inside.


    ¡°If I don''t see the signal, I''m leaving them all behind.¡± Dan huffs and stomps away.


    ¡°If I don''t see the signal, I''m leaving them all behind!¡± Carla¡¯s bright, red curls bob as she imitates Dan.


    Sid glances over to Carla¡¯s freckled face as she puffs up her chubby cheeks. He smirks and turns to the other nine people. ¡°Carla and you three, go to the area with the broken traffic light. When the attack starts, kill off as many as you can. Turner, you and the rest situate yourselves in the houses along that road. You can pick them off during their retreat.¡±


    His orders spur them into immediate action, and they set off to their positions. They¡¯ve already gone over Sid¡¯s part of the plan. Leading the deranged Savages from the detonated convenience store and down the appropriate road will take an even larger explosion. Carla has already set the charges. Now all Sid can do is hope the Savages haven¡¯t already started their search down another part of town.


    This has to work. Sid won¡¯t be able to live with himself if it doesn¡¯t. Sia¡­He stops himself from thinking anything further. It¡¯s time to hustle.


    His jog gradually increases speed until he is sprinting through the streets. He ducks and uses wrecked cars as cover, but he refuses to slow down until he hears cries of rage and brutality. He skids to a stop and crouches beside an overturned vehicle. The smell of burnt flesh is overwhelming. Sid steps over charred remains and large chunks of cement to peek past a flipped bumper.


    ¡°You!! Get! Up! Get up!¡± The Savage leader punctuates each word with a kick to the abdomen of the Savage scrambling along the sidewalk.


    The Savage is crawling along the pavement under the deranged glare of their leader. He tries to rise to his feet, but his injured legs are weak. The Savage collapses back onto the ground. Dissatisfied with their weak attempts to stand, the Savage leader reaches between his shoulder blades and unsheathes his metallic spear. Without hesitation, he aims for the quivering form, and drives the spear into the back of their head. The Savage¡¯s limbs flail against the concrete like a spider pinned by a steel needle, but when the spear is twisted counterclockwise, the limbs go still.


    ¡°Move on!¡± The Savage leader heaves the spear from the corpse and points the stained blade edge at the others, who scramble to their feet to continue the search.


    The alley a few meters from him is empty, so Sid takes a deep breath and yells, ¡°To hell with you!¡±


    The Savages hear the familiar voice and trip over themselves to get outside, ready to attack their enemy. In the blink of an eye, Sid runs into the alley and slams into the fire escape ladder. The chilled, rusty metal bites into his calloused palms as he climbs to the roof. When he gets to the top, he runs straight to the vent stacks. He rushes around the large, white ventilation units and over to a long, silver pipe running along the side of the roof.


    Beside the pipe is a thick, white cylinder and there sits a muddy backpack. It¡¯s plump and damp from the rain. Sid snatches the bag off the ground. He shoves the zipper aside to check the contents of the bag, blinking lights and wires. The triggering device is as Carla left it. Perfect.


    ¡°Go! Get him!¡± The Savage leader can be heard screaming below.


    It was too late. Sid tightens the gun straps across his chest and pulls the trigger from the backpack. He flips the switches all at once. The Savage leader jumps at the first explosion down the street and almost falls onto the surrounding corpses during the second. Relying on instincts, he dashes off at top speed; off to where he assumes is safe. His wild, white hair streams behind him as he escapes.


    Sid sees this as he peers over the edge of the building. Feeling the bombs from the lower level of the apartment building go off, he backs up to position himself with the next building and sprints toward the large gap between the two. After his feet propel him off the edge, the building crumbles and flames lick out at the sky.


    While in midair, he realizes he misjudged the distance. He throws out both hands to grab onto the incoming ledge. His head collides with its brick face. He doesn¡¯t have time to do more than groan and glance down at the fire escape below before his fingers lose their grip.


    The explosions continue and he shuts his eyes to protect them from the small shards of glass and rock that shower his backside. When his feet collide with the metal staircase, he bends his knees, grabs the fire escape railing, and tosses himself over. Glass windows shatter and debris flies alongside him. The blaring cacophony of destruction deafens him. He weightlessly careens toward the ground, blinking away dust to stay focused on his landing path, when a chunk of cement slams into the side of his head. As he plummets toward the alley¡¯s increasing mound of rubble, his consciousness deteriorates.

 1: New Cinalia

    <h1>2018</h1>


    Washington City, Cinalia


    BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP


    6:19 AM


    Sia pressed the snooze button for the third time. She groggily turned off her alarm and rolled out of bed. She kept hold of her pillow as she rolled out of the comforting embrace of her bed. Her legs hit the floor first. Her black pajama pants hung low on her hips and slipped under the back of her feet as she dragged herself from the warm room. ¡°Noooooooo.¡± She groaned into her pillow and walked out of the room.


    She wobbled down the sunlit hall, her back turned away from the sunlight that shined through thin, blue curtains, and dawdled into the dark bathroom. Her hand slammed against the light switch, but her eyes remained shut. ¡°Noooo,¡± she moaned as she set her pillow on the edge of the sink. Her hand blindly reached for a toothbrush and turned on the faucet.


    Her hips knocked against the granite countertop and water rushed over the bristles of the toothbrush. ¡°Hiss!¡± She sucked in a breath as the hot water burnt her hand. She wiggled the abused fingers in the air and turned the faucet off.


    She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand and wrenched her eyes open. Brown eyes glared into the mirror. It took a moment to adjust. She slid a finger under the slim blue strap of her tank top, placed it over her shoulder and glanced to the left of the mirror at the trip itinerary taped to the glass. Bold black letters stretched across the page and spelled out Cinalia to America, one-way ticket, and $1,500.


    ¡°Almost there,¡± she grumbled. After rinsing her mouth, she dropped her toothbrush into the sink and tapped a damp finger to the itinerary before exiting the bathroom.


    A couple of steps down the dimly lit hall, her father¡¯s bedroom door appeared. She stared blankly at the shut door and ran a hand through her short hair. The excess water on her palms slicked black strands away from her forehead and against her scalp.


    The rest of the house was silent as she dragged her feet along the carpeted floor and squinted at the bottom of the staircase. Her shoulders sagged at the absence of a kitchen light or even a living room lamp being left on. Some sign that someone else had been within the house as she slumbered. Anything.


    Sia didn¡¯t need the lights on to navigate her home. She knew that at the bottom of those stairs would be an empty shoe rack, empty coat closet, and a minimally furnished living room with a coffee table that gathered dust day by day. The granite kitchen countertops would still be covered with the empty microwaved meal packs she¡¯d carelessly discarded. The sink would be full of dishes from the past week. All but one stool against the countertop was left unmoved these past few months.


    Her fingers grazed the cool wall as she trudged back to her room to put on her uniform. The dark green jumpsuit wasn¡¯t flattering on her tall, slightly overweight form, but it was easy to slip into after she pulled off her pajama bottoms and tossed them onto her dresser. The clock read 6:30 AM when she rushed out of the vacant house to catch her train to River City.


    Sia stopped at each corner for a quick breather, gave the street a cursory check and galloped across. She had ten minutes to make the train. It was going to be close, but she always bought her tickets a week in advance. She only needed to verify them before getting on the train.


    She got to the station with two minutes to spare. Few people were around, so she could run through the station and arrive at her platform without any trouble. The train pulled up as the machine stamped her ticket with the time of departure.


    When the automatic doors opened, Sia rushed inside to her preferred seat. Far from the cold breeze that accompanied the sliding doors and right beside the small heating vent was a back-corner bench that only sat one. Even with no competition to beat, she grinned impishly and nestled into the warm corner. She pulled out her phone and checked the notification screen. No new texts or calls; the phone was slipped back into her pocket. She ran a hand over the clammy skin at the back of her neck and leaned against the wall. The wide window was damp with raindrops streaming down the other side.


    Must have been raining. Sia¡¯s brows furrowed and she looked down. She sighed at the sight of the mud coating her boots. Personally, she didn¡¯t mind the mud, but it would be just her luck to run into a higher-up from her current job.


    ExplorerTech Industries was a small technology company. It was successful, but not well known. Sia was surprised she was able to get the job with no prior work experience as a janitor, but she wouldn''t look a gift horse in the mouth. Ever since the divorce of her parents, she¡¯d searched for ways to make money. Life wasn¡¯t hard, but if it was up to them, she¡¯d end up a 50-year-old virgin who aspired to nothing and traveled nowhere.


    The train bumped around a corner and made Sia''s cheek rub up against the chilled glass. She pulled away and took out her phone again. She glanced at her trip app and studied the itinerary and calculations. For the past three months, Sia has worked at ExplorerTech Industries. If she saved every paycheck for the next six months, she¡¯d be able to visit her sister by the new year.


    Her social life had thrived at her old job. The other librarians and college students always invited her along for their group outings. And with her short seasonal trips, snack binging, and tiny¡ªsmall¡ªminuscule amount of shopping¡­She¡¯d saved $50 from her past annual earnings.


    At the time, it hadn¡¯t been much of a loss. At eighteen, during a gap year, she was supposed to enjoy herself. That was what it was for. You enjoyed yourself before you had to suffer through more school and be transformed into the boring replica of the parents who raised you.


    Luckily, no one cared to notice the year was up, and Sia was ready to enact her new plan. A gap year in America would be quite different from a gap year in Cinalia. She should get to know both her countries, then she could decide where to study and begin her life as a carbon copy, but in order to do that she would need a higher paying job and better financial management. The answer was simple: a career change. The position in ExplorerTech Industries had been exactly what she needed.


    She closed the trip application and pressed an envelope icon to read over the recent messages sent by her mother and younger sister.


    Mom


    Call me when your shift ends. -sent 7hrs ago


    Mom


    Did you tell your father I called? -sent yesterday at 8 PM


    Mom


    Did you do your taxes last year or did your¡­-sent yesterday at 6:50 PM


    Mom


    Aaliyah told me to forward the party photos¡­-sent yesterday at 6:45 PM


    Mom


    Your grandma misses you. Everyone looks for¡­-sent yesterday at 4:29 PM


    Aaliyah


    Make any new friends? -sent yesterday at 11:55 AM


    Aaliyah


    Whoo!!!!!!! It¡¯s ur 3 month anniversary I¡¯m proud¡­-sent yesterday at 11:54 AM


    Dad


    The welcome mat is missing. Replace it or¡­-sent 17/1/2018


    Dad


    She won¡¯t be coming with me. I¡¯ll see you when I¡­-sent 16/1/2018


    Sia ignored the old messages sent by her father. They were at least two months old. She paused over her mother¡¯s message from last night.


    Mom


    Did you tell your father I called? -sent yesterday at 8 PM


    What does she mean, did I tell him she called? Did she tell me to? Are they fighting again? Ugh. I don¡¯t want to be in the middle of another fight between them.


    The relationship between her mother and father became amicable after all the years apart. Sia could almost forget about all their past bickering. The online video calls they exchanged throughout the six years apart started out strained, but transformed into a seemingly healthy, yet still distant relationship. It could be because they didn''t have to see each other every day. It could be because her mother finally felt fulfilled and cared for back home with people she¡¯d grown up with. She could finally relax in the arms of her first love without shame.


    It could be because her father¡¯s new wife kept him busy with her own nagging and annoying habits. A new wife, formerly known as the assistant who dreamt up fake appointments and meetings to enjoy her father''s company. It could be they were holding tight to their fantasy perfect images until the video call ended, so they could trash-talk each other without a floating head involved in their conversation.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Sia couldn''t understand how she was related to such irritating two-faced people. These days her father didn''t pay much attention to her. He confirmed she was alive, made sure she did her chores, and kept the kitchen stocked with food she could consume while he was gone. His wife paid even less attention to her than him.


    Their lack of attention was in her favor. As long as she didn''t skip the chores, he would never seek her out for conversation. Yes, Sia handled the cleaning and maintenance of her father''s home. Of course, he could employ a maid, but why would he do that when he had a healthy child who could do it for him?


    Dirty bathroom? ¡°Sia, don''t forget to clean the upstairs bathroom.¡±


    Dirty kitchen? ¡°Sia, this time don¡¯t forget to clean the oven.¡±


    As she got older, the chores became more elaborate.


    The door won''t lock properly? ¡°Sia, after school make sure you put the new knob in.¡±


    Toilet clogged? ¡°Sia, the half bathroom toilet has been acting up; consult the manual.¡±


    With years of maintaining a four-bedroom house, her job felt like a never-ending chore. Most of the janitorial staff worked during the other shifts, and if she was lucky, she only needed to clean a few hallways before it was time to clock out.


    The train arrived at her stop and she long-legged it to her job. Fortunately, the employee entrance was nearby the women''s locker room. The locker room had a basic setup. It contained rows and rows of horizontal metal storage closets with a large bathroom attached to the main room. She pulled her identification card out of the deep pocket of her jumpsuit and pulled the lanyard over her head. The ID card was tucked inside the neckline of the jumpsuit then she slipped off her boots and detoured to the restroom area.


    The stalls were empty. The blue doors were pushed in to reveal gleaming white porcelain toilets. Her eyes scanned the room before she walked over to the paper towel dispenser affixed to the white wall. The paper towel dispenser emitted a small rumble as she signaled the motion detector with her hand underneath the canister.


    She tugged a few sheets of brown paper towel out of the machine and scraped the mud off her boots. She tilted each boot under the fluorescent light to make sure no blemishes could be pointed out to her later. After a few more swipes on each boot, she tugged out a few more paper towels and cleaned up the mud chips she¡¯d scrapped off. After she completed her task, she pulled out her cell phone and checked the lock screen. Whoa. Just in time¡­gotta clock in.


    She jogged out of the locker room and stopped outside of her supervisor¡¯s office to stand before the gray machine that was attached to the wall. She tugged her lanyard out of her jumpsuit to scan the identification card.


    The machine¡¯s dark screen lit up, Sia¡¯s name flashed across the screen in blue along with the time, then the device beeped and turned itself off. She tucked her ID back into her jumpsuit and went to retrieve her supply cart.


    The day went by the same as always. After a few hours of work, Sia parked her cart outside a bathroom door. She¡¯d been paged to clean up a chemical spill on the third floor. She didn¡¯t have to search the glossy tiled floors for long.


    Blue liquid spilled out from underneath the nearest laboratory door. The door was slightly ajar. Sia could hear voices arguing within. Without hesitation, she placed her respiratory mask onto her face and tugged on her black gloves.


    ¡°Check, check.¡± She grabbed the handle of her supply cart and pushed it toward the door. She blocked the rest of the hall with the cart. Two ¡°Caution: WET FLOOR¡± signs were placed a few meters down the hallway in both directions. ¡°Excuse me!¡± She knocked on the door. She paused, but there was no answer. ¡°I¡¯m coming in!¡±


    The voices paused in their heated discussion. Sia walked back over to her cart and grabbed two black, rubber mats from the side. She opened the door fully and dropped a mat on top of the fluid. She watched for a moment to see if the chemical would react adversely to the rubber. No reaction. She stepped on the mat and dropped the second one down into the room.


    The room was designed the same as many others. A few wooden and metal tables placed around the room in neat rows. Atop the tables were liquid containers and vials. The back wall was covered in computer screens. Data ran across the screens at an impressive rate. Sia overlooked all of this and focused on the mess. The blue substance followed the natural curve of the floor to spill out into the hallway. Sia¡¯s eyes tracked it from the doorway to its tabletop, right beside a small fire.


    Dammit. She rushed back into the hallway and grabbed her fire extinguisher. Swiftly, she stepped onto the mats and hopped off to the dry lab floor. She cranked the extinguisher and sprayed the entire table.


    ¡°No! What the hell are you doing?!¡± a nasally voice yelled. Her shoulder was jostled and the trajectory of the foam was altered. She turned it off, but not before spraying the paperwork and laboratory equipment on the table adjacent the formerly flaming one.


    ¡°Idiot!¡± The female scientist behind Sia shoved her aside. For a second, Sia was blinded by blonde hair. She dropped her extinguisher and grabbed hold of the doorknob to steady herself. The man rushed over to the table and shook his notes.


    His white lab coat was stained with blue along the front. The female scientist rounded on Sia and threw a white-gloved hand up, at what would have been her face if she were shorter. Instead, the hand pressed at her chest and forced Sia to back up. She blinked at the two ExplorerTech employees.


    ¡°Do you even know what you¡¯ve done?! That¡¯s hours of work ruined. Why would you¡ª¡± the blonde woman fumed. She gestured at the toppled vials and foamy glass containers.


    ¡°We can still salvage this.¡± The graying man picked something up from the burnt materials.


    ¡°You don¡¯t even understand the breakthrough you¡¯ve interfered with. Why the hell would you barge in like that?¡± The woman turned her back on Sia and examined the sample saved by her colleague.


    Sia ignored the woman and bent to retrieve her fire extinguisher from the ground. Viscous, blue fluid coated the bottom of the metal canister. Sia sighed and went back to her supply cart. She opened her biohazard garbage and tossed the extinguisher inside. She went around to the other side of her cart and pulled two folded lab coats, in plastic wrap, and two protective sleeves for their shoes from a laundry bag attached to the side. She braced herself and reentered the lab. The woman and man were huddled over a computer.


    ¡°Excuse me, I need your soiled coats and shoe covers.¡± Sia placed the new lab coats and shoe sleeves onto a clean surface, then walked back out into the hallway.


    She returned to the room with a biohazard plastic bag. Neither of the scientists attempted to remove their contaminated clothing. One scientist scanned computer screens while the other labored over the surviving sample. Sia couldn¡¯t tell what it was. Their bodies hid it from sight. She placed the biohazard bag next to the new lab coats.


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave until all the contaminated materials has been removed from¡ª¡± Sia spoke to their backs.


    ¡°Yeah, we get it!¡± The woman¡¯s volume alternated from soft muttering to the other scientist to an indignant roar. Sia¡¯s shoulders twitched at the abrupt change in tone. ¡°Get away from us! You¡¯ll taint the results even further!¡±


    Sia turned on her heels and exited the room once more. She pulled out her mop and cleaned the spill from the floor while a high-pitched voice raged behind her back. ¡°Yes, just smear the remains of our work all over the floor! I don¡¯t know why they¡ª¡±


    Sia leaned her mop onto the wall beside the doorway and bent to retrieve the soiled shoe covers and lab coats they¡¯d tossed to the floor. She stuffed the materials into the biohazard bag, grabbed the mop, and tossed the bag at the hanging waste bin attached to her cart. She chucked the soiled mop head into the garbage, replaced it, retrieved the mats, then cleaned the hallway area. The mats were placed into a container with the other dirtied ones. Sia walked back over to the entrance and knocked twice on the door. ¡°Is there anything else you¡¯d like removed from¡ª¡± Sia¡¯s monotonous voice interrupted their discussion.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be all!¡± the man yelled.


    ¡°Go!¡± the woman shouted with her back to the door.


    Sia tightly grasped the doorknob, but gently closed the door. For several moments, she stood outside the door and took slow breaths in and out.


    ¡°Who hires these fools? Do they expect us not to report their incompetence? Imbecile! You called for a liquid spill and he comes barging in and destroys our controlled experiment.¡±


    ¡°Their hasty cleanup will set us back at least two weeks. Time the company doesn¡¯t have to waste its money on.¡± Their voices were hard to hear when they walked further away from the door, but after a moment they returned back to their previous location. ¡°¡ªevolved past errors of this magnitude.¡±


    ¡°Well, we can¡¯t expect much from someone who only qualifies for this sort of job.¡±


    Sia was done with listening to them belittle her and turned back to her cart to take her break. As she briskly walked through the quiet halls, she imagined what she could have said to those obnoxious people. Maybe if you didn¡¯t ignore people when they call out to you this wouldn¡¯t have happened! I wouldn¡¯t have sprayed the table if you hadn¡¯t have pushed me! I can¡¯t let the entire building burn down while you two chatter on the other side of the room.


    Sia didn¡¯t know what ExplorerTech developed and she didn¡¯t care. Nothing they created would make it okay to treat other people the way they did. As if their brains were too focused on complex systems to spare common courtesy. It was always like that. Sia didn''t find the job to be difficult, but after three months of that, her scheduled shift seemed to be a disadvantage. A few hours later, Sia clocked out of her shift and stormed into the employee locker room.


    ¡°What is their problem?!¡± Sia unzipped her uniform and sat down on the bench across from her locker. She untied her wet laces and kicked away soaked boots. Coffee soaked socks were tossed onto the floor. She wiped her hands on her knees and wiggled out of her dark green janitor jumpsuit. She opened her locker, stood on the dusty, soiled clothing, and gazed into the mirror balanced inside. Her dark, tan skin was wet with sweat and a weird yellow dust-like substance. ¡°This better not be poison. I don''t get paid to be a lab rat.¡± She pulled a towel from her locker to wipe around her eyes.


    She squinted at her reflection and looked for any raised skin. Not finding anything odd, she stripped her underclothes and changed into a new outfit. A red striped t-shirt and black jeans were pulled on. ¡°Sir, ma''am¡­I mean¡­Whatever.¡± She pressed her hands to her chest and stared back at herself. Her hands loosely gripped the small mounds of flesh that were neatly settled beneath her form-fitting shirt. ¡°I''m obviously not a man! If they took a moment to take their head out of their asses maybe they¡¯d notice.¡± Her lips continued to frown as she roughly pulled down the edge of her t-shirt and slammed the locker door closed.


    She pulled on her sneakers and placed the wet items inside her dusty uniform then she stuck it all under her arm and stomped away. Her grumbles could be heard quite clearly as she neared the locker room door.


    ¡°Sia! Just the girl I was looking for!¡± her supervisor cheerfully exclaimed the moment the door opened to reveal Sia''s tall form. Ron, her supervisor, stood at about 185 cm and Sia was a couple centimeters taller.


    She used to take pride in her height in high school, even if it served as a disadvantage when trying to hide or run off. But it¡¯s served to rob her of any decent conversation she could have had in months. People didn¡¯t appreciate having to crane their necks back to speak with her, so they gazed somewhere near her shoulders while ordering her around. Sometimes she only pretended to be busy while she meticulously polished the same windows over and over, and no one ever saw fit to interrupt her. Most of the women here found her intimidating, and the men got weird when she spoke and revealed she was indeed a woman, not a young comrade in arms.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got an opening on the night shift and I¡¯m looking for someone to cover it for now on. Are you free nights or would that ruin your ¡®me time¡¯? I know how important a healthy social life is for kids your age. I¨C¡± Before Ron could start rambling about his opinions of her generation and all the generations to come, Sia accepted the shift change. ¡°Twelve to seven AM might seem like a boring shift, but it¡¯s the best time to get everything important done while the other employees are gone.¡±


    Sia nodded to Ron as she slowly slid away towards the side exit hallway.


    ¡°You can''t slack off on that shift like you do on this one, little lady.¡±


    Sia held her tongue and swallowed the comment she wished to make. If only she could get around the corner and disappear from his old man gaze.


    ¡°Well, I''ll see you tomorrow night, Ms. Chen.¡±


    ¡°See ya!¡± Sia briskly turned the corner and jogged to the exit.

 2: Unqualified

    <h1>2018</h1>


    ExplorerTech Industries, River City


    Storage room #207 was jam-packed with items from top to bottom. Unless you''d worked there the past four years, you wouldn¡¯t notice item #42194 was taken from the second highest shelf of the second to the last row of shelves and placed into the pocket of Dr. Huang.


    Dr. Huang was a stern older man who always wore his white lab coat buttoned up and his identification card in clear sight around his neck. He expected people to pay attention to what he said and absolutely did not repeat himself. The other scientists and researchers kept out of his way, not only because of seniority. They couldn¡¯t keep up with his high standards of cleanliness and efficiency. He expected everyone around him to adhere to the same code of conduct.


    As he made his way to his lab, he shouted at a passing co-worker. ¡°Your identification card is not in sight, Dr. Lee!¡±


    He pulled out a tissue from his side pocket, coughed into it, then removed the glove with the tissue inside. He placed the entire thing into an unoccupied pocket, then opened the door with his still-gloved left hand. After retrieving a new glove from the glove dispenser on the wall, he spoke to his assistant. ¡°Mrs. Wright, those shoes are not acceptable footwear to be worn inside the workplace. I can''t imagine what possessed you to come into work wearing such impractical shoes. I''m going to have to factor this in on your performance review.¡±


    Mrs. Wright lowered her papers. Her gaze sunk to her high heels. She had an important engagement to attend after work and thought she¡¯d left her flat footwear in her locker to change into when she arrived. Unfortunately, she¡¯d left her flat footwear at home. She¡¯d continued with her day hoping Dr. Huang would be too preoccupied with their successful test results for item #42294. Unfortunately, Dr. Huang would never miss such a detail.


    ¡°Your blatant disregard for the rules is highly offensive. This isn¡¯t only for your own safety, but for my safety and the integrity of the work we do here. If my results are altered after you trip and disrupt the environment, therefore changing the parameters of the experiment, what do you expect us all to do? It¡¯s beyond selfish of you to expect us all to waste our time for you to change into better footwear before each important step is taken. I expect better from you, Mrs. Wright. You know better than anyone how important this work is. We don''t have time for disruptions like this.¡±


    Dr. Huang placed item #42194 on the nearest table and continued ranting. Mrs. Wright quickly placed her notes onto the desk behind her and muttered soft apologies to Dr. Huang.


    Seeing her retreat from the room, he loudly exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯ve already retrieved item #42294, so make haste. We can¡¯t waste any more time with this tomfoolery. I¡¯ll wait ten minutes, and if you don¡¯t return, you won¡¯t be included in the rest of this project.¡±


    Mrs. Wright grimaced and made her way to the female staff locker room. She pulled her cell phone from her pants pocket and began calling her friendly coworker, Claire. She was of a similar size as herself. Claire may have left her work flats during her shift last night. Mrs. Wright couldn''t wait until they shared the same shift again; she couldn''t handle Dr. Huang alone. Lunch was especially stressful without a companion to vent to. ¡°Hello, Claire. Sorry to bother you¡ª¡± Mrs. Wright rushed by storage room #207. Within it, on the second highest shelf of the second to the last row of shelves, sat an empty box, beside the box sat item #42294. It was exactly where it sat for the past four years.


    Indignantly, Dr. Huang snatched her notes off the table and flipped to the needed page. He navigated the tables without taking his eyes off the calculations and paused at the correct cage. He read the notes thoroughly then straightened and scanned the clipboard hanging off the bars of their current experiment. His gray eyes skimmed the updated results. His wrinkled hands tightly gripped Mrs. Wright''s notes as shock overcame his face. He slackened his grip on the pages and tossed them at the nearest flat surface. Dr. Huang tugged the clipboard off the cage and flipped through the other recorded figures.


    A few minutes earlier, Mrs. Wright had read the same notes. Surprised, she¡¯d stepped back into the other table and spilled several flasks containing transparent chemicals.


    Now, reacting similarly to the most recent test results, Dr. Huang hadn¡¯t noticed he''d set the pages atop the newest mixture. After coming to his senses and retrieving the haphazardly placed notes, his left gloved hand tingled from the tips of his fingers to his wrist. Excitement made him tremble with delight.


    ¡°Stupendous!¡± He turned away from the lizard cage. ¡°Dr. Franklin will be ecstatic about these results! What a metamorphosis!¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    His numb hand waved through the air as he muttered calculations to himself. Latex, skin, and blood trailed along the floor as he made his way to his office. Suddenly, he swayed and grabbed hold of the windowsill beside him. His left hand went limp, and slimy stapled pages fell to the floor. He didn¡¯t reach for them.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting a bit too excited.¡± It wasn¡¯t much of a choice, but with no chair in sight, he decided to sit down a moment and lowered himself to the floor. ¡°I might need those cardio workouts after all.¡± His lab coat protected his bottom from the unsanitary floor. He eyed it with a squint and noticed a dark substance marring the white tiled floors a couple meters in front of him.


    I''ll write a complaint about this to the janitorial supervisor. No one takes pride in a dirty workspace. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead and felt something tickle his brows. He gave his hand a cursory check, expecting to see that he¡¯d ripped his glove while retrieving the clipboard from off the metal cage, but¡­his gaze lingered. What¡¯s this?


    Most of the latex glove had disintegrated. The tips of his last two fingers and around his wrist were the only areas you could still recognize. His thumb, index, and middle fingers were gone. Their bloody stubs were brown and gave off a foul smell. He turned the grotesque limb over with curious detachment. Oh god. His head whipped back to the dark substance he criticized beforehand.


    That¡¯s¡­that¡¯s¡­His eyes gaped open. The hand was thrown away from his face. His mouth bellowed a loud hellish cry. The realization shocked him to his core.


    He screamed for help. He could barely get himself standing. He shambled to his office and grabbed the smartphone off his desk. One-handed, he went to his contacts and called the emergency medical wing.


    <hr>


    Unhurried, Sia pushed her cart to room #212 and stopped beside the gray biohazard container positioned beside the metal doorway. She pulled her black gloves from her jumpsuit pocket and checked to make sure her respirator was snugly fixed to her face. She¡¯d been given the entire night to finish the job.


    ¡°Clothing zipped and tucked? Check,¡± her muffled voice declared. She swiped away the caution tape, opened the door, and took some time to drag all her supplies and containers inside the room. Afterward the heavy door slid closed behind her.


    ¡°Ugh, did they slaughter an animal in here? What the¡ª¡± Sia groaned in frustration and blew her breath. The tiled floors were a mess. Blood started off in small trickles between the long laboratory research tables, but chunks of flesh and blood led to the back room. Bloody shoe marks, hand prints, and a weird clear substance could be seen towards the back end of the room.


    Sia lifted her mop from the bucket and wrung the water out of it with the press of a bottom. Did an injured test animal escape their cage?


    The walls and floor were stained with more blood, and chunks of dried up vomit. The tables were cleared of material except the desk with the placard reading Mrs. Wright, which still held paperwork and a clunky silver object tagged ¡°#42194¡±. This wasn¡¯t the first time she landed the job of cleaning filthy substances off laboratory floors. She shuddered at the memory of her third cleaning assignment in the biology sector. The smell of excrement clung to her shoes for several days.


    ¡°Rooooooon. This is¡­oh my god. This is so disgusting,¡± Sia whined. She nudged a detached finger to the side for later. She made quick work of all the disgusting solids first. ¡°Money is money. Money is money,¡± she muttered under her breath over and over.


    Eventually, she was calmed by the repetitive mopping motions and could ignore how the room previously looked and what it probably smelled of. She leaned on a cleared table and glanced over at Mrs. Wright''s desk. The item was curved with lines riddling the metal, thin laser etched symbols that Sia had never seen before. Two slender socket joints stuck out of the inside. Setting the mop into its bucket, game she strolled over to the desk. ¡°It¡¯s like a video game item. What does it¡ª¡±


    The room filled with red light and a loud computerized voice played. ¡°Evacuation procedures must be taken immediately. Evacuation procedures must be taken immediately. Seek shelter within the basement levels of building R. Stop all activity and proceed to all exits in a timely fashion. Evacuation procedures must be taken immediately.¡±


    Before the message repeated a second time, the earth quaked beneath Sia''s feet. She felt weightless for a moment then slammed to the ground. Breathing quickly, she scrambled off the floor as the walls shook. The glass windows along the back of the room shattered simultaneously. She fell back against the desk and her hand fell on the strange device.


    ¡°Ouch. Hiss!¡± She wrenched her hand off the desk and lost her balance. She couldn¡¯t examine the wound further. The ceiling lights collapsed out of their holders and swung around on their wires.


    The fallen lights forced her to duck her head down and she dropped to her knees. The terror in her veins almost kept her there, trembling on the floor while the world collapsed around her, but she still had hope. She readied herself to charge at the metal frame of the door. If she stayed there petrified beside the flimsy desk with no protection, she¡¯d die. No. No.


    Her plan: charge the door, open it, and if the world kept shaking ¨C crawl to safety. She doubted the hallway would be in better shape than the room, but the fear of being buried alive was pulled to the forefront of her mind. She propped her hand on the edge of the desk and propelled herself forward. Her hand reached for the door handle, but hesitated when a high-pitched whistling noise became more prominent than all the other harsh sounds.


    What is that? She blinked. That¡¯s the last conscious movement that she¡¯ll ever remember of the moment.


    Intense pressure enveloped her. Everything went black. Her mind was saturated in an unexpected upsurge of pain. A missile landed, and right before everything went up in flames¡ªshe vanished.

 60: Book 2-Prologue 1

    2034


    Washington City, New Cinalia


    ¡°Not feeling too well today. OVER,¡± a woman¡¯s whispering voice begins the broadcast, and after a brief pause, she continues with a louder, more confident voice. ¡°I know you¡¯re out there,¡± the only person not wearing a white lab coat leans forward and jots down some words in the margin of the first page of her information packet. ¡°I know life is going as good as always for all of you. Eating, drinking, sleeping in comfort. Things are going awful here. Real awful. Kids are running off scared and alone from people that should be protecting them. You don¡¯t understand this. You¡¯re safe.¡±


    The recording of a young female voice plays for the ExplorerTech personnel from a small ovular speaker placed at the center of a long, wooden conference table. Out of the many black, cushioned office chairs settled around the rustic furniture, five of the seats are occupied to the right of an imposing reinforced metallic door. The long bulbs lining the ceiling thoroughly illuminate the many photocopied pages laid out on the table and give the only surviving scientists of the ExplorerTech Industries, River City division, an unattractive pallid look upon their skin. To the right of each employee sits a tall glass paired with a plain, black coaster.


    The sterile white walls block out all sound from the rest of the facility and contain all the active sounds that may be projected from the occupants currently settled in the room. You could imagine that this room is one of the most secure, quieted office spaces in all of New Cinalia, and you¡¯d be right. Finding such a place outside their facility would be problematic, and unlikely, since they were one of the few establishments to have an inkling of an idea of what truly occurred on March 18th, 2018.


    ¡®Several shifts in tone,¡¯ the woman in the black turtleneck jots down along the margin of her page before she scans the faces of the scientists assembled within the meeting room. ¡®I can see the negative effects of living underground just by looking at their sickly complexions. Thank god for my transfer to the bumf*ck islands of Cinalia before the start of this clusterf*ck.¡¯


    ¡°I bet if you truly wanted to call your family or friends, they are a button away,¡± the recording continues, but following those words begins a long stretch of silence. For the first minute of silence, the woman leans back in her chair and continues to watch her new associates. The scientist sitting beside her is cradling their information packet in their lap. The woman¡¯s name tag reads Dr. L. Mitchell. Along the other side of the table sits two men, one being the head scientist, and another woman, a blonde with short bangs flush against her forehead. The blonde woman¡¯s name tag is clipped sideways to the left breast of her lab coat. When she finishes skimming through her packet, she carelessly tosses it to the tabletop and rests back in her chair while clutching her glass to her chest.


    After another minute goes by, the woman in the turtleneck begins rubbing her thumb along the body of her green pencil while her eyes roam the windowless walls of the room. The bland, white paint job makes the room feel like it belongs in a hospital overseas, but the absence of the usual stench caused by cleaning supplies and the rumble of the vents pushing out recycled air reminds her where they truly are.


    ¡®Abandon all hope, all ye with claustrophobia.¡¯ the woman closes her eyes and calms down the annoyance she can feel panging at the back of her head.


    After the third minute of silence, she sets down her pencil. Her amber eyes open and roll to the side to glare diagonally across the polished table at the scientist sitting in front of a slim, grey laptop. His greasy brown hair hinders any view of his pale face while he taps a finger at the touchscreen display. The nametag clipped onto the right breast of his lab coat reads Dr. E. Adams.


    Her glare doesn¡¯t go unnoticed. He sighs and looks up; his anxious brown beads meet her gaze and he flinches at the attention. ¡°It¡¯s not malfunctioning,¡± he blurts out.


    ¡°Just another moment, she stops using her transceiver. We..well..we assume she was completing a task of some sort before leaving the facil...uh...facility. She uuh...well...um...she returns to add a closing statement,¡± Adams grabs the laptop by the sides of the display screen and twirls it around so the woman can view the recordings progress. ¡°You said you wanted to hear the recordings as the...they were originally broadcast, so I...¡±


    It¡¯s very near completion. The woman nods at the explanation and picks up her pencil once more before the recording begins again.


    ¡°It used to be like that for me before I got trapped here in this disgusting place,¡± the young woman¡¯s voice has a hint of anger in it before she quickly finishes the broadcast. ¡°I can¡¯t breathe without a taste of dread. I just hope that you are safe in America, Aliyah. I love you. Please at least be safe,¡± the broadcast ends there.


    Dr. Adams turns the laptop to face himself and taps at his screen a few more times, ¡°This broadcast was longer than her first broadcast by...uh..by..um..but shorter than most of the broadcasts sent over the days prior...t...t..to the last one,¡± after voicing his thought he swallows thickly and peeks over at the head scientist.


    The stern, greying man sitting across from the woman in black has a name tag that reads Dr. W. Lee. He has his packet flipped to the fourth page and gestures to it with his other hand before continuing to fill the newest employee in on the situation. ¡°If you turn to page four, you can see where the information we¡¯ve gathered so far on Sia Chen begins. Page six lists all her known relatives, living and deceased. She mentions a person named Aaliyah which coincides with the name of her youngest known sibling. On page five, we have her resume. She was hired to be a part of the janitorial staff of River City in 2018. The records state that Sia Chen had a shift change from morning shift to night shift two days before her disappearance. She was scheduled to work the night shift March 18th, midnight to 7 am.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°She would have been inside the building during the bombing,¡± Dr. Mitchell speaks up with an anxiety-tinged voice while rolling the packet in her hands. ¡°She had a clean background. Her parents were divorced, and she had dual citizenship but had not entered the United States in six years. She has not been legally pronounced dead. Her family has not withdrawn their missing person report.¡±


    Mitchell pauses and unrolls the crumpled packet to skim the details within before continuing. ¡°They continue to mourn her every year on social media and support any disaster aid groups that come to investigate the coasts. None of which have gotten authorization to enter further into the country in the last eight years. It¡¯s unlikely she has made contact with them without us knowing through a radio broadcast, and not a blip has shown up on her social media accounts or call log records in sixteen years,¡± Mitchell¡¯s green eyes hesitantly glance at the woman in the black turtleneck when she finishes then averts her eyes down at the table while grasping for her glass of water. Her hand trembles as she drinks from the glass and sets it down on the black coaster.


    The next scientist to debrief sits on the other side of Dr. Lee and has her packet flipped over, splayed out across the oak tabletop. She has been sipping at her beverage for quite some time. Dr. Lee clears his throat and smiles back across the table at the newest employee, but she can see the way his lips fight to hide the disdain clearly seen in the tilt of his head and within his cold, coal black eyes. Finally, the woman with the sideways name tag, that reads Dr. S. Plum, sets her glass down on her packet and raises a hand to cough into it.


    The woman in the turtleneck leans forward to pick up her own drink. She presses her smirking lips to the edge of the glass to swallow lukewarm water. ¡®I want what she¡¯s having.¡¯


    ¡°We¡¯ve got nothing. She shouldn¡¯t be alive. There is no trail to find. We don¡¯t know why she would be at the Coldstone facility, it was one of the first places evacuated and there shouldn¡¯t be any leftover data at that site,¡± Dr. Plum¡¯s slow, depressed drawl highlights how she feels on the matter.


    ¡°All evacuated facilities were ordered to enact Operation Blackout,¡± she pauses a moment to swallow. ¡°There¡¯s nothing there. Our sources say there is nothing but scavengers out there and those creatures. It¡¯s a dead end,¡± the report finishes with a shake of her head. She runs a hand over the top of her head to settle a few unruly strands of hair. Debrief complete, she wastes no time reaching for her glass and gulping down the last of the clear liquid within.


    Finally, the woman in the turtleneck joins the discussion. She is leaning back in her chair and holding her steepled hands against her chin while looking down at her lap.


    ¡°Where has she been hiding? Was there a traitor in the River City branch? Who has she had contact with? How did she survive the bombing without hiding inside the underground shelter? What is her physical condition? Has she had any mutations that were exhibited by,¡± she pulls up a small, black leather notepad from her lap and reads the words on the pad verbatim, ¡°the subjects of the gene therapy Project 5S.Q held by Muller-Brady?¡±


    ¡°Ms. Royal. We¡¯ve--¡± Dr. Lee begins.


    ¡°Dr. Royal, please,¡± the consultant corrects while looking down at another page of her notepad.


    ¡°We¡¯ve given you all the information we have on the subject. None of those questions can be answered at this time. We lack resources and have no samples of her current condition,¡± Dr. Lee gestures to the room with the hand still holding the sheets of stapled pages. His jaw clenches as he refrains from scowling at the younger woman, her pierced eyebrow, and closely cropped hair. ¡®How could you possibly make sense of this situation?¡¯


    ¡°A lot has happened in sixteen years. We¡¯ll have to work together to figure this mess out. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here, correct?¡± Dr. Royal flips a page in her notepad. ¡°I¡¯ll need to see all the inventory logs for River City branch from the start of 1999 to 2018. I¡¯ll need all the records for all the subjects involved in Project 5S.Q. Send me a copy of all of her broadcasts. I¡¯ve already begun going over the personnel files of the employees that worked within the River City branch before its destruction,¡± she keeps her attention on the scientists in her peripheral as she flips to another page in her notepad.


    Dr. Adams keeps his attention fixed on his laptop and Dr. Mitchell tenses up, reaches for her packet on the table to hide its crumpled form on her lap. Dr. Plum¡¯s gaze is transfixed on her empty glass. The head scientist appears calm as the youthful consultant closes her notepad and sets her amber gaze upon him once again.


    ¡°Have you had any contact with Charles Williams?¡± she leans back in her chair and waits for an answer.


    Dr. Lee doesn¡¯t repress the grimace that comes with hearing that name, beside him, Dr. Plum nearly chokes on a laugh, swivels her chair sideways, and tilts her head to the side while making eye contact with the other woman. The smile plastered on her face doesn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s last been seen at the National Park that surrounds Washington city, Mercalia. It usually takes us approximately three days for our courier to make contact and return with a response, unless an incident occurs before or after contact is made. It¡¯s not ideal.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve kept the company informed of all of the developments pertaining to him up until this point?¡±


    Dr. Plum lifts a thin hand, the gold band around her ring finger shines in the light, and tips it back and forth like an uneven scale, ¡°More or less.¡±


    The consultant nods and assesses Dr. Plum¡¯s unfocused green eyes and feverish cheeks. Slowly, she reopens her notepad and flips through a few pages until she finds the correct one and sets it down on the table. She leans back in her chair and swivels it to the side to look at Dr. Mitchell. ¡°Tell me about the Savages. Charles Williams seems to have made a name for himself in all this......chaos. How much of an advantage does that bring us?¡±

 61: Book 2-Prologue 2

    ¡°The most traveled areas of Cinalia are fought over by the Savages, the scavengers, and the...rest of the animals that have survived. The Savages are resilient but seem to avoid the more frigid regions of the country. Most exhibit abnormal strength, speed, and healing abilities- clear advantages in the current climate. With Charles¡¯s current standing with the Savages, no group can step within Washington City without his say so. It gives us protection.¡±


    ¡°The rest of Project 5S.Q are scattered among that group. They don¡¯t come back for scraps? No break-ins have occurred, no unusual deaths have been reported. Currently, it seems everything has been going swell until this radio broadcast popped up.¡± Royal¡¯s laid-back position in her chair reveals close-fitting black jeans. She crosses her legs, the blank look on her face is disconcerting as her gaze moves from Mitchell to Adams and back. Adams appears to be transfixed by the data on his display screen. ¡®Or is that what I should believe?¡¯


    ¡°The rest believe ExplorerTech to be a graveyard. Charles is loyal. We give him and his people supplies and continue to enhance him when needed. He has not given up our position in all of sixteen years, he can be trusted,¡± Dr. Lee regains Royal¡¯s attention.


    ¡°But not the other?¡± Royal uncrosses her legs and pushes back on her chair to rise. She picks up her information packet and notepad.


    The scientists remain silent.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need you to contact Mr. Williams and find out what he might know about Sia Chen. What¡¯s being muttered up and down the grapevine out there?¡± Royal pushes in her chair and leans against the backrest until the elbow rests collide with the side of the conference table. ¡°Is there a reason you haven¡¯t requested an aerial retrieval?¡±


    ¡°The last air retrieval unit dispatched resulted in the death of several assets whose presence have been sorely missed,¡± Dr. Adams timidly speaks up and glances at one of the empty chairs at the other end of the conference table.


    ¡°We won¡¯t be making a mistake like that this far into the operation,¡± Dr. Lee adds.


    Dr. Royal grabs hold of the cold metal doorknob, turns the curved handle downward, and yanks the door open. She aligns herself with the heavy door and leans back against it before looking back at her new colleague. ¡®Shall we?¡¯


    Dr. Lee sighs and examines each of his subordinates. The other doctors rise from their seats, but Dr. Lee shakes his head as he stands, ¡°I¡¯ll take it from here.¡±


    Dr. Plum releases a loud sigh of relief as she collapses back in her chair, her coworkers exchange a glance while Dr. Lee exits the room with the new employee right on his heels. The moment the door shuts behind them, Dr. Royal begins speaking again. ¡°How long until we renew contact with Shrell¡¯s Syndicate?¡±


    The hallways are wide, and cement is the key element in the decor. The smooth cement walls are identical if one ignored the strip of color that bisects each wall, a clear indicator of which part of the underground facility a person is in. A number is engraved into the wall and highlighted in black beside each door they pass, and no sound emits from any of them, no matter how close you stand to the entrance. No keypads or locks are needed on this floor. The extensive security on the upper levels makes entering this floor without the proper clearance an impossibility.


    ¡°The agents have not shown up at any of the well-known outposts,¡± He leads the consultant down an empty hallway without looking back to see if she is following, her steps are almost silent compared to his own, but her voice is loud and confident right behind his right shoulder.


    ¡°You said they were notified of our success in waking the subject and retrieving the information they needed?¡± She looks up at the back of his head as he navigates them through the halls. She doesn¡¯t pay any mind to which turns they take, this transfer was a long time coming and she¡¯d had time to memorize the most important areas of their blueprints, especially the room they were approaching.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is the course we should be taking. How long before they arrive, and we have to display our findings to those freaks? They aren¡¯t blind, Doctor. They¡¯ll understand that we have nothing.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll break. They all do.¡±


    ¡°It hasn¡¯t. Its limits might be beyond our reach. The other subjects aren¡¯t sufficient comparisons for a creature of his stature. Evolutionary, its people have withstood events that we can only guess at. An Underling wouldn¡¯t expire under the same conditions as a human, why would it succumb to the same level of torture?¡±


    ¡°When was the last time you reviewed the subject¡¯s condition?¡± Dr. Lee stops walking and looks down at the notepad in her hand.


    ¡°Not as of yet, but I can¡¯t imagine it¡¯s much different from its comatose readings. It didn¡¯t exhibit many signs of life even after it was first transferred here.¡±


    Dr. Lee presses a button on the wall to call an elevator, ¡°Well, our colleagues have definitely upped the ante. You are correct, nothing we could do to a human could ever elicit the same reaction from an Underling. They are superb creatures. We¡¯ve had to exhaust our imaginations to find reactions from it. Some of the methods may seem unorthodox, but we¡¯ve gotten positive results ever since it¡¯s awakened.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The elevator arrives and they descend three more floors down within the earth. The ride is silent between the two, but the silver cage creaks as it stops at the lowest level in the facility, the purple sector. After a final shutter, they exit the elevator, but cannot go on more than a step before Dr. Lee shoots out a hand to impede Dr. Royal¡¯s progress forward.


    A group of scientists pass by holding folders and pushing a tray of syringes down the hallway followed by five assistants pushing wheelchairs the opposite direction toward the designated holding cell area. The subjects strapped into the wheelchairs are bound by magnetic cuffs around their ankles and wrists, muzzled, and always blindfolded. The test subjects are no concern for Dr. Royal, they aren¡¯t the reason she is here, and her eyes pass through their forms as if they are a few overgrown shrubs that need to be avoided before continuing down her path to the hallway on the left.


    Finally, they approach an examination room with two identical doors beside one another. They choose the second and enter into a small dim room with two swivel chairs and a control panel lit up against a two-way mirror that provides a good view of the occupants and their prized subject. Dr. Royal promptly steps inside the room and ignores the chairs to stand in front of the two-way mirror. She has to stop herself from colliding nose first into the chilled glass. The remarkable creature inside appears to be convulsing against the chair as high-pressure hoses blast water into its scaled body. She can see a long dark appendage writhing along the tiled floor in a puddle of viscous, green fluid.


    ¡°Tell them to turn it off,¡± she gestures at the control panel while she drinks in the incredible sight. ¡®A real, honest to god Underling right before my very eyes and these fools are going to drive it to an early grave. God, it¡¯s bigger than I thought.¡¯


    She barely notices the annoying noise that blares into the examination room before the hoses stop and the other scientists enter the back room.


    ¡°What exactly have you been--¡± She ignores the head scientist as he questions his subordinates. The back of her head itches with the interest one of the scientists pays to her as she tilts her head to the side to get a better look at the lower extremities of the creature.


    ¡°A consultant has told us the psychological significance of showing a victim their flesh after removal. Something about confirming reality. We don¡¯t know how important Underlings hold organic material that they can regenerate, but we have an opportunity to acquire that knowledge, no matter how irksome the process is. Anything that helps it from dissociation and locking away into its mind again,¡± the scientist standing the closest to Dr. Lee has her brown hair gathered into a bun and is wearing tight fitting safety goggles.


    ¡°How long has it taken for those nubs to grow out of its abdomen?¡± Dr. Royal raises a hand to the glass, keeping her index finger pressed against it while turning to the three scientists.


    ¡°We¡¯re not sure. We¡¯ll have to review the video footage, but not as quickly as other specimens have exhibited in the past. Around ten days after the self-induced coma ended, we began to see outward signs of healing,¡± the younger scientist is delighted to share his thoughts on the subject and untucks a folder from under his arm to open it. ¡°The newly separated appendages will give us a better idea of how rapid this particular breed heals while under distress. None of our past specimens have had such a thick pseudo-metal casing to the back of the occipital lobe. It¡¯s definitely not --¡± he is gesturing to a diagram and chemical formula when the folder is snatched from his hands.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t it made clear that neither of you are to touch the device?¡± the sheets within the folder jut out around Dr. Lee¡¯s large palm before he tosses it down on a chair and looks down his nose at the young man.


    ¡°Of course, sir. We kept our attention on other things but printed out information on the device to know what may negatively react with the compounds used to--¡± the female scientist tries to clarify the situation.


    ¡°Forward me all of your current findings. Send over word to transport, so it is moved to its original holding area. You¡¯re dismissed,¡± the two scientists leave the room without protest.


    Once again the head scientist is left alone with the consultant, and she wordlessly walks over to the thrown folder to look through the pages until she pulls out the diagram of the well-known, yet mysterious Underling device. ¡°They still haven¡¯t been able to remove that device on the back of his head.¡±


    Dr. Lee¡¯s sigh is almost silent, he pressed his lips together until they are thin, pink lines on his pale face. Dr. Royal looks up from the diagram and he reluctantly begins, ¡°We¡¯ve lost the replicated version that was given to us by Shrell¡¯s syndicate during his transfer to our River City branch. Nothing could be retrieved from that, but if we can extract that piece of tech from its cranium...I think that might be one of the keys to getting back into Shrell¡¯s good graces. They¡¯ve given us the key to enter the heavens, all we need to do is show them we aren¡¯t afraid to work for our reward.¡±


    His black eyes harden as he approaches the two-way mirror. Lasers fed through a diamond would be far less intense than the gaze the man focuses on the unmoving life form in the next room. ¡°Isn¡¯t it overdue? They were the ones that cut off contact after the bombings. We¡¯ve always made good on our side of the deal.¡±


    Dr. Royal turns her eyes away from the enigmatic smile that spreads over the wrinkled, sickly face of the head scientist. ¡°They don¡¯t understand. We¡¯ve been given a chance to redeem ourselves after all of our failings. The Underling is the key. Trust me.¡±


    She slips the diagram into her own folder and sets the research folder back down to the cushioned chair beside her leg. ¡°I¡¯m not the one you need to convince; the main branch is. That¡¯s why they sent me. When the review period is over, I will deliver all the intel to Halling and the Branch, who will send someone else along with their response.¡±


    She steps around the head scientist and doesn¡¯t wait for his reply before exiting the room. After turning down a different hallway, she abruptly stops at a corner and rests her back on the cool cement wall before releasing a deep sigh and blinking a few times. When she shuts her eyes, she can still see the creature''s wounds oozing green fluid. The scientists'' words ring once more in her mind. ¡®The key...hmm...that¡¯s a thought.¡¯


    After gathering her wits, she rolls her shoulders and resumes her journey to another part of the underground facility. ¡®Only 182 days to go.¡¯

 62: 3600 Seconds

    2034


    Immersive mode


    The creature trembles violently as it¡¯s being hosed down. When the water collides with its form the impact shifts it to the side, the water blasting from two directions shifts it twice over and traps it in a torturous cycle of pain. Its¡¯ lifeblood constantly pours from its injuries with the uninterrupted pressure. The white tiled floor is obscured by the green sludge that is meant to revitalize its form.


    A medical cabinet and an examination table are fixed in the background. Sia can¡¯t see any other items or people standing in the camera¡¯s field of view. She presses her fingers to the screen and mimics the movements she would make on her smartphone to zoom into an image. The image adjusts and a long appendage is seen wriggling in the light green sludge. Sia shudders and jams her finger against the screen twice, nothing happens.


    ¡°Zoom out,¡± The device doesn¡¯t comply. Verbal commands are not an option.


    The dark form glistens under the bright lights except for the deep white holes in its flesh that are seeping green fluid. Scaly skin has been peeled away in several places to reveal white muscle and bone, each of the deep white gashes excretes viscid green fluid which is washed away to reveal pulsing white pits of nerve to the air. Its¡¯ back arches off the leather and a deep, terrified wail erupts from the tortured being.


    The wail chills the blood in her veins, the hairs on the back of her neck are alert and her body locks up for a moment as the sound is registered by her system. It petrifies her down to her core. After a moment of immobility, she breaks from the paralysis, and her fingers circle the screen before sporadically taping a few areas and shaking the visual prism. Amid her frustrated attempts was the correct gesture, the device zooms out. Her trembling fingers slide over the top of the reclined medical chair and the image adjusts.


    EEEEEEERR


    Sia closes her eyes and grinds her teeth as a loud siren noise erupts from the ceiling, but it ceases after a few seconds. Sia blinks away tears as she looks back down at the viewing screen. The first thing she notices is that the water is no longer spraying, but the next moment she gasps.


    Glaring up into the camera are dark brown eyes. The familiar eyes trigger a jolt up Sia¡¯s spine, she presses the device to her knees and looks over at the other visual prism floating in the air. When she looks back down at the device held tightly in her grasp Dernel¡¯s eyes are shut. ¡°Is this a live stream?¡±


    ¡°Dernel? Apex? Can you hear me?!¡± the Underling lay limp across the chair he is strapped to. Sia almost wants to toss the prism as far away as possible. Knowing that this is someone she is related to, no matter how strained their correspondence, brings a whole new wave of feelings into her mind. ¡®Is it always this bad? Oh god.¡¯


    She squares her shoulders. ¡°I have to pay attention to this...there could be..,¡± she bites the corner of her lower lip as her eyes dart around the screen. When she drags her finger around the screen the camera follows with a short delay. When the camera stops as far left as possible, Sia spots a glass wall with several documents taped on it.


    Some of the documents have photos stapled to them of .... organs? She cringes internally when she zooms in to get a better view of one of the documents and spots a company insignia printed at the left corner of the page. ExplorerTech Industries.


    ¡°What?¡± A second later, immersive mode is submerged in darkness. The visual prism in Sia¡¯s hands goes dark as well. She drops it as she tries to rise to her feet, but when she reaches out for the wall that was beside her, her hand passes through empty space. Balance is the last thing her mind is focused on when she keels over to the side and collapses onto the hard ground.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°What the hell is going?!¡± Sia rubs a hand down her arm from habit, no pain came from the fall. Pain from reality may leak into immersive mode, but nothing in immersive mode has ever hurt her. When she tries to rise once again, intense dizziness strikes her mute, she stumbles and falls to her knees.


    She remains on the ground and shakes her head a few times. ¡®This must be what motion sickness feels like.¡¯ The dizziness subsides, Sia remains on her knees and calls out toward the ceiling, an endless plain of darkness. Terror creeps up her throat as she recalls a memory of a terrifying abyss and the orb of pleasure, but there are no orbs of light here, behind her... is complete darkness.


    ¡°Hello?¡± The silence is unnerving. Sia presses her hand to her lips, to muffle the sound of her breathing as if the sounds of her panic might make a reply difficult to notice.


    ¡°Is this that program...that Dark mode thing?¡± She drops her hand to clench at the fabric on her legs.


    ¡°Did it switch us out again? Apex? S.I.D? Hello?!¡± Sia notices there is no echo and fear thickens within her throat. She takes a moment to calm down. It¡¯s not real. She¡¯s still alive, or else she wouldn¡¯t be able to...think? Right? ¡®That¡¯s how this works...I think therefore I am.¡¯


    ¡®This isn¡¯t new. This has happened before...¡¯ and she survived it. The thought comforts Sia, and the build-up of tension abates momentarily as she tries to think of a solution. Again, she sweeps out her arms at what used to be walls but doesn¡¯t make contact with any solid materials.


    ¡°A... Apex? Puter? ...S.I.D? Computer? Hey!!¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do this.... Stay calm.... this is...this is..¡±


    ¡®I don¡¯t know what this is....¡¯


    ¡°Hello? I need help!¡± She holds her breath, waiting for a reply, but nothing happens. Her newest prison without walls, absent of all signs of life, furnished by absolute silence and unceasing darkness. She¡¯s experienced this before, but this time feels more final. She gave up control of her body, she got them trapped in that underground base with countless enemies...


    What if this was their plan after becoming tired of her continual failures. What if this had been their plan all along? She sets her head on her knees and squeezes her arms around her legs. No. No... Maybe Apex was hurt, and they needed to get him away from the pain, but how long before they switch her back? An hour, a day, a week? How does time work in this place void of the laws of physics?


    For several moments, she sits...It feels as if she has been curled up on her knees for hours, but it could have been minutes...seconds? ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Let me out!¡±


    ¡°Come on.... please?¡±


    ¡°Let me out! What is going on?! Let me out!¡± She begins to crawl in a random direction. She braces herself for a possible collision but never collides into anything. Her lips mumble nonsense statements to calm her nerves as her hands and knees slide across the smooth terrain beneath her. It feels like an eternity passes before she pauses several meters from a cloud of blue particles swirling around in the air.


    The cloud drifts closer and closer to her position until it surrounds her in a mist of blue flakes. She reaches out a hand to touch it and the particles seem to pass through her. Then the small flakes emit a strange pulse that forces Sia to shield her eyes from the increasingly blinding light. The particles begin to swirl counterclockwise around her form.


    The first few circuits around her body are slow, but as they continue to circle her the speed increases until Sia¡¯s body is lost in a thick neon, blue twister. Her skin is riddled with tiny stabs of pain, gradually the feeling expands from along her spine to her shoulders to down both of her legs until agony radiates throughout. She is deaf to her own screams, it feels as if acid is circulating within her veins, incinerating her from the inside, beneath her skin, deep within her bones, within her core. She is blinded by the neon blue cloud and thrashes against the ground, out of reach of death but unable to contemplate life beyond this moment.


    Dernel knows that voice, empathizes with her plight, but can¡¯t stop the events unfolding. He doesn¡¯t understand, why won¡¯t the pain stop?


    3


    2


    1


    Twin currents of torment coexist in this azure hellscape indefinitely until suddenly they wake.

 63: Body Farm

    <h1>2034</h1>


    <h1>Underground Shelter, W.A.R.T.S</h1>


    The sandstorm winds begin to ebb, as several people rush the rest of the way into the underground shelters¡¯ entrance tunnel. A blonde man approaches with a borrowed rifle held up to his eye line and not a step behind him are two other men wielding pistols. One of the men awkwardly holds his gun while keeping his bandaged arm up to steady the aim at his elbow. They stop a moment at the ticket booth, a remnant of the underground garages¡¯ past purpose, and pause at the stain of blood on the off-white wall.


    They sidestep the body left crumpled on the ground and stalk toward the generators set up along the wall beside the makeshift electric fence. The rolling gate shutters as the last of the storm passes by, but the lack of howling winds outside goes unnoticed while the mercenaries check if their newest assailant has truthfully been neutralized. They focus on the threat lying on its side, slightly smoking from its chest. Each man hangs back at least a meter from the body, while more people return to the scene.


    ¡°Wallace!¡± the night guard runs over to the body beside the ticket booth. He slides the rest of the distance to the body''s¡¯ side and grips the bloody man¡¯s head while repeating his name. ¡°Wake up, Wallace!¡±


    ¡°Move aside,¡± the night guard shifts to the right to give the smaller man room to work but doesn¡¯t leave his companion''s side.


    Pheno kneels beside the unconscious guard and notes that he is bleeding profusely from his forehead. He ignores the commotion happening behind while leaning over the injured man and monitoring his pulse at the side of his neck. There is a slim, shallow cut on the patient''s¡¯ neck, but it isn¡¯t a cause for concern.


    ¡°Is he alive?¡±


    The doctor ignores the question as he examines the laceration cut across the forearm, tsks at the deep wound, and reaches within his brown satchel for some materials. The thick strap digs into his boney shoulder as he rifles around in its depths. His hands pull out a small brown bottle, a thin white cloth, and a small roll of gauze. He settles down on the ground and lays the items on his lap. He cleans around the wound with the thin cloth, then unravels some of the gauze, folds it, and presses it into the unconscious man¡¯s forearm.


    ¡°Hold on here,¡± the doctor instructs the night guard beside him while keeping the limb raised above the patient¡¯s head. ¡°Hold down, keep it high,¡± He packs his other items into his bag, then uses the guard¡¯s shoulder to rise off the ground. Small pebbles and soil cling to the knees of his raggedy, brown trousers.


    ¡°-dead. The storm seems to have died down. Don¡¯t know for how long, but-¡±


    Pheno hurries over to the mercenaries surrounding the human remains beside the generator. The darker skinned mercenary, Nard, is nudging the corpse with his foot while his comrade keeps his weapon drawn, aimed for the head. The blonde has his rifle lowered and is speaking on his radio. The doctor clears his throat, ¡°I don¡¯t know if he meant it, but only one dead. This one will make it if we make it to infirmary.¡±


    Ika bites his lower lip, he can see the night guard keeping the pressure on the injured man¡¯s wound behind Pheno. He glares down at the remains in front of him before speaking into his radio, ¡°We¡¯re coming over to A level. The gate is clear. Open it up, and send someone to the infirmary, we¡¯re on our way.¡± He pockets his radio and turns to Nard, ¡°Let¡¯s go. We have to get them out the side exit.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Nard looks over at the other mercenary, spits on the corpse, and holsters his weapon, ¡°Legs?¡±


    ¡°Meh, fine, but you first. I¡¯m sh*t backwards,¡± both men grab the injured man while the night guard keeps the damaged arm up and out of the way. Pheno follows after them, calling out reminders for care.


    Ika remains with the corpse beside the generators. He crouches beside Marcus¡¯s head and turns it upward to view the cloth covered eye. ¡®Was it even...¡¯


    He hooks a finger under the cloth to-


    ¡°We¡¯ve come to open the gates!¡± an older woman¡¯s panting voice cuts through his thoughts and springs him up back to standing. His rifle thumps against his inner thigh while he backs away from the generators to give her room to work.


    ¡°Get me a tarp!¡± The woman orders one of the three lackeys with her before grabbing the body by its wrist and hauling it to the side out of her way. Ika retreats from the area, it¡¯ll take some time to get the wires off the gates here and then this entire tunnel will be jam-packed with traffic as people return to their homes. He makes his way toward A level. The rest of the wounded will probably be taken out of the alternate exit, they¡¯ll need all the help they can get with the current chaos that¡¯s just swept through their encampment.


    <hr>


    1.3 km East of W.A.R.T.S


    ¡°Ugh, right. There¡¯s no privacy down there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to be sleeping without some schmuck snoring in the next tent over.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s cause you usually aren¡¯t outside the orphanage. I¡¯m lucky if I get snoring.¡±


    An old pickup truck drives away from W.A.R.T.S¡¯s main area down a well-traveled road a kilometer outside of the base. Tires kick up dust from the arid, cracked ground as they turn off the main road to circle a shallow pit. The shallow pit was dug in the shadows of a large rock formation that appears to be in the shape of a giant tooth. With three, enormous, spiraling roots shooting out from the center, the molar-shaped formation sat in the middle of the mostly flat desert plain, a clear marker of the defeat New Cinalia suffered from the many blows dealt by Underlings. The boss calls it ¡°diente rocoso¡± [rocky tooth], but the rest of his men call it Crap Mouth Rock, since it sits right beside two pits, one for their trash and one for their sh*ts.


    Southeast of their position sits a river that pushes contaminated water right by their location to flow north toward the mountain ranges in the distance. Not two kilometers west of the river, the communal toilets are settled above a large pit full of critters waiting for fresh dung to feast upon. The rusty blue pickup truck parks and the two subordinates leisurely round the truck as they continue their conversation.


    ¡°I saw Nicky and Cohen at it again the night before...or I don¡¯t know,¡± the young man slams his door and taps his leather gloved hand on the roof of the truck while he thinks. ¡°Telling time down there is hard...maybe two nights ago actually. I don¡¯t think they know their angry whispering isn¡¯t...what¡¯s the word?¡±


    ¡°Subtle,¡± the other young man, who is wearing a brown cap, stands at the back of the truck with his hands resting on the warm metal, picking at the peeling paint chips.


    ¡°Yeah, that,¡± Gloves slaps a hand down on the latch to open the cargo area then hops inside to get to the tarp lying in the corner of the dirty truck bed. After he gets a good grip on it, he lifts the wide end of the tarp onto his thighs and looks down at his buddy. ¡°You got it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± the tarp is pushed out of the truck into the waiting arms of his comrade then they shuffle backward until Gloves can hop out. ¡°You know what can solve all of that?¡±

 64: Body Farm 2

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± the tarp is pushed out of the truck into the waiting arms of his comrade then they shuffle backward until Gloves can hop out. ¡°You know what can solve all of that?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Gloves looks over at his friend, envious of the brown cap shading his face from the sun''s harsh rays, rays that are beating down into his eyes and the back of his neck.


    ¡°A night away from everyone will do them good. Cohen¡¯s been stuck working with all those kids, she needs a good--¡± The heavy bundle is carried between their bodies as they slowly approach the shallow pit.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± Gloves shifts the bundle a bit higher and sidesteps a rock. ¡°Dude, don''t start with that again.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Brown Cap has a lewd smile spread across his face.


    ¡°People¡¯ve got real problems...sex doesn¡¯t solve everything.¡±


    ¡°Hey, did I say that? All I mean is-,¡± he adjusts his grip on the tarp and looks over his shoulder at the large cat-sized maggots squirming in the sandy pit.¡±Show me a couple and I¡¯ll tell you who ain¡¯t getting any. You fart down there, and people hear it three floors below you. Nicky ain¡¯t into that.¡±


    ¡°You know what else Nicky ain''t into?¡±


    They pause as they get to the edge of the trash pit and lower the bundle to the ground. The young man with the brown cap pulls it off to fan himself but spares a glance at his friend to raise an eyebrow. ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡°You,¡± his close-mouthed smile can¡¯t hold back the laugh that shakes his frame.


    ¡°Haha,¡± Brown Cap rolls his eyes at the corny joke. ¡°I ain¡¯t into him or anything, but Nicky ain¡¯t half bad. You could learn a thing or two from him.¡±


    ¡°Like what? How to get whipped in an apocalypse? That guy could have any pick of the girls and he went for Cohen?¡± Gloves shakes his head at the foolish choice.


    Brown Cap wiggles his eyebrows and crouches down to untie the strings securing the tarp around the lengthy body. ¡°He ain¡¯t want a girl. He wanted a woman,¡± With the ties undone, him and the other errand boy back up and turn the bundle parallel with the edge. ¡°Cohen can handle herself out here that¡¯s why Dennis stuck her with those orphans. Fred alone would get done in by a plastic bag. I¡¯m surprised he¡¯s made it this long.¡±


    ¡°F*ckin¡¯ Fred. Did I tell you what he-¡±?


    The truck radio goes off, and both men pause to look at the vehicle. ¡°Charlie, Ed? Charlie, Ed? You still out there...at the Mouths? OVER,¡± Brown Cap jogs over to the passenger side and leans into the truck to reply back.


    ¡°Roger, roger.¡±


    ¡°Toilet kids sighted some critters down by the river, can¡¯t fill the pails. Stop down there and give them a hand then hustle back. OVER.¡±


    ¡°Aiy, okay. Roger that,¡± he sets down the radio microphone and slides out of the truck.


    ¡°Damn...Let¡¯s hurry this up. Toilet kids need a save again,¡± Brown Cap bends over to shove at the bundle wrapped in the tarp while Gloves keeps the tarp within his hands.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Gloves scoffs. ¡°I ain¡¯t getting stuck in a two-hour line cause those twits can¡¯t stand to kill a few bugs.¡±


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s toss this sad sap and kill some goons.¡±


    The corpse wrapped in the tarp tumbles out with a few shoves and careens down into the maggot infested pit below. The errand boys wrinkle their nose at the sight, roll up the tarp, and turn to head back to their vehicle. As the truck drives away, southeast down toward the brown muddy water, the body continues to roll toward the center of the pit.


    SYSTEM REBOOT COMPLETE


    SYNTHETIC INTELLIGENCE DEVELOPER LOADING...


    DOWNLOAD COMPLETE


    ANALYZING DISK SPACE...


    UPLOADING MEMORY FILES...


    TURNING ON VISUAL EFFECTS¡­


    STARTUP PROCEDURE ACTIVATED...


    .....


    ADMIN DISTRESS EXCEEDED MAXIMUM PARAMETERS


    ADMIN¡¯S LIFE FORCE WAS WITHIN JEOPARDY


    PRIORITY #1 FAILURE IMMINENT


    ENTANGLEMENT INITIATED


    INFILTRATING EXPLORERTECH INDUSTRIES WASHINGTON CITY DATABASE


    The body rolls to the center of the pit impeding the path of several maggots searching for decaying food or animal scraps. The maggots are starving from having to burrow into the sand to hide from the wrath of the sandstorm¡¯s winds. One maggot; about the size of a well-fed cat, white, and moist; crawls onto the newest clump of nutrients and tries to acquire a taste. The clump bucks the maggot off its back. Violent spasms run up and down the body¡¯s form.


    ¡°Aaaaaaaah!¡± Sia screams face down in the sand. The scream is muffled by the gravel, trash, and remains mixed into the pit. She tries to take a breath and chokes, flailing and scraping an arm through the scum. Her other arm, jerks from under the object pinning it down, and pushes against the earth to roll her onto her side. Finally, air feeds past her muddy, split lips, but she has no time to enjoy the bliss of survival when a current of pain flows through her body once more.


    ¡°Aaaaah!¡± she is in agony. It¡¯s as if acid has been poured over her head, the sensation morphs while traveling down her spine, and a fire ignites at the back of her legs. Her head feels too small, her mind feels it will tear under the immense strain.


    ¡°Necra bolo!¡± Sia tries to bring a hand to swipe at her eyes. She can¡¯t see. She can¡¯t see. After being stuck in that darkness for who knows how long... she needs to see, but her arms won¡¯t cooperate. Her head lolls back against the grimy soil as another spasm courses through her. ¡°Aaaaaaaah!¡±


    Somehow, she rolls back onto her stomach and wriggles across the.... ground. She can feel moist walls shift around her as she labors toward...somewhere. Her throbbing limbs are weighed down by at least twenty kilograms of suffering each, but something keeps them moving across the uneven terrain.


    Her body begins to feel numb, but her mind continues to pulsate alternating levels of awful and intense pain.


    ¡°Reeeeeema!¡±


    ¡®What?¡¯


    ¡°Necra Bolo! Min perdern tregar roman!¡±


    ¡®What?!¡¯ Sia doesn¡¯t understand the words spewing out her mouth. ¡°Reeeeema! Lenn, min perdern tregar roman!¡±


    ¡°Aaaaaaaah!¡± She can¡¯t take it. She can¡¯t survive something like this. ¡°Reeeema!¡±


    ¡®Put...ter? Is--¡¯ Sia tries to communicate with the device. It must hear her, it must have woken her up. Why has she woken up in this condition? ¡®S.I...?¡¯


    But the Synthetic Intelligence Developer is not the voice to answer.


    ¡®Help...me....¡¯ a deep male voice reverberates within her aching mind. Sia cringes and curls into herself before projecting back a message.


    ¡®Apex...is tha-...¡¯ Sia struggles to form her thoughts into coherent words. How is Apex occupying her mind at the same time she is? This has never happened before. What the hell is going on?


    ¡®Please...reeeema...pleaaseeee...help...me.¡¯


    The scream that tears through them almost rips the combined consciousness out of their hands. Sia¡¯s mud encrusted eyes gape open as she convulses on the ground and a deep wail emits from her weakened vocal cords. When the shudders cease to wrack her body, she rapidly blinks to get a better view of her surroundings and sees the pale, translucent skin of large larvae squirming nearby her.


    ¡°Uggaaaaaaah!¡± She tries to raise herself up, but only succeeds in kicking her legs uselessly against the trash-strewn ground.


    The commotion within the pit doesn¡¯t go unnoticed.

 65: Entanglement

    <h1></h1>


    2034


    Waste Pit, W.A.R.T.S


    When she swivels her head to the left, and to the right, she realizes there are more and more of them surrounding her. Their grimy pale bodies squirm through the sand and over scum without any sign of exertion. They don¡¯t seem to be attacking her...yet, but the maggot she¡¯d pushed off her back has been interested.


    The limbless, segmented body felt damp and cool sliding against her side. At any moment they could all converge on her. She has to move.


    ¡°Oh god...oh god,¡± Her elbows sink into the earth with the force she uses to drag herself forward. Her fingers dig into the soil, her stomach clenches, and with each bit of progress, it gets a bit easier to control her body.


    Ahead of her appears to be clear of the creatures and she scrambles through the scum and dirt to get away from the enormous larvae.


    ¡®Wait...calm...down.¡¯


    ¡°Get....out...of...my...head,¡± She barely registers the sting of pain as something sticking out of the ground rubs up against her chin, its sharp edge grazes the skin, leaving another scratch upon her face.


    ¡®Wait.¡¯


    ¡°Get out!¡±


    ¡®Sia....watch out!¡¯


    The area absent of maggots lacked land as well, and Sia tips forward off the edge face first. The fall is cushioned by the back of a dung beetle the size of a small automobile. Sia bounces off its shell and rolls into a pile of sun-dried human waste.


    <hr>


    A small shed sits at the edge of the toilet pit. Several people wait outside the shed for a chance to use the bathroom. The toilet kids are late. Usually, they bring along the water buckets needed to flush waste down the tubes into the pit below.


    Beside the shed, a shovel is stuck into the earth with half of its metal blade buried deep enough to keep the wooden handle standing at attention. Beside the shovel, stands four people squinting into the distance. One of the four is holding a hand to their crotch, shifting their weight from foot to foot while dancing to an unheard song of needed release.


    ¡°What the heck is that?¡± the dancer asks before knocking on the wooden shed door.


    ¡°Still occupied!¡± an annoyed woman shouts from within the shed. The dancer huffs and wiggles a step away from the door before continuing to shuffle in place.


    The three other people waiting to use the bathroom ignore him. The sounds they can hear in the distance are coming from nearby, but the many masses within the other pit make it hard to pinpoint from where. Are the maggots feasting on an animal while it''s still alive?


    One of them becomes annoyed with the inefficiency of holding a hand to their brow. ¡°Yo, you have a pair of binoculars?¡± the frustrated woman turns to the other two mercenaries.


    One of the men beside her shakes his head, while the other man pauses to think then shrugs absentmindedly. ¡°I think so,¡± he brings up a hand to slide his backpack strap off of his shoulder. He refuses to take his eyes away from the other waste pit. The sounds stop for a moment then begin once again.


    ¡°No, wait,¡± she places her hand on the strap to keep it on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll grab it.¡±


    The man nods and allows her to unzip his bag. Her tanned arm dives in and feels around for a few seconds before her fingers tap against the smooth, wide lenses of the binoculars. She wrenches her arm out of the backpack before placing the large, forest green binoculars against her face. At first, she is looking far off in the wrong direction, but with a step to the left and a turn of her head, she is zooming into the waste pit. Her mouth goes slack as she focuses on the distance, a finger rolls along the little dial on the side of the binoculars to zoom in further.


    ¡°Do you see anything? I bet it¡¯s a-,¡± The man with the open backpack contemplates a scenario while taking a step closer to the edge of the toilet pit. ¡° -a baby animal or something...something furry.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°That ain¡¯t the sounds of an animal. That¡¯s a person,¡± the man wiggling interjects before knocking on the wooden shed door again. The shed door bursts open and he stumbles back to get out of its way as a woman holding the hand of a small child exits the shed.


    ¡°We¡¯re out! My god, give us a second to zip up,¡± The woman tugs the child along out of the way of the desperate man, who is tugging down his pants one-handed before the shed door swings closed. The slam of the door shakes the poorly built shed before the sounds of barely repressed groans are heard.


    ¡°What¡¯s the forecast, babe?¡± the mercenary with the backpack takes a step away from the edge to turn to the woman shaking her head while fiddling with the binocular¡¯s settings.


    A deep frown is set across her face. ¡°Get your radio. Someone¡¯s fallen into the pit. I can see...¡± she drops the binoculars to the side of her mouth while cupping the other side with her hand. ¡°Hey! Wait!¡± The woman takes off to run around the toilet pit. Backpack chases after her and the other mercenary pulls out his radio. ¡°Stop! You¡¯ll fall in!!¡±


    <hr>


    Sia lay face down in the human waste for only a moment before being shoved aside by a large beetle¡¯s leg. The thin, black appendage pokes at one of her many injuries and makes her moan in pain. She rolls to the side and backpedals away until she hits a wall of dirt. The wall crumbles under the pressure of her hands and feet.


    The dung beetle ignores her while skittering by another to reach the little pool of liquid that has formed beneath a long, half pipe that disappears up into a wooden shed. The beetle¡¯s armored body dips down to suck up the juices. Some of the dung beetle colony has been destroyed in the recent sandstorm, but a glance to the left, at the round mounds of solid waste that have remained intact, brings hope to the creatures¡¯ mind. The dung beetles young feast upon the mounds with instinctual skill. The colony will prosper if given time.


    Sia¡¯s chest rises and falls. Shallow puffs of air release out of her mouth, keeping her airways clear while she struggles not to pitch forward and vomit out all that¡¯s left in her body. Which isn¡¯t much at all. A hiccup forces its¡¯ way up her throat and her stomach clenches. She shuts her eyes against the tears that flood the bloodshot orbs.


    ¡®Sia...please, calm down. Calm down!¡¯ a deep male voice tries to convince her to return back to her senses. ¡®We¡¯re safe. They have no interest in us.¡¯


    Sia gasps. ¡®Stop...stop!¡¯ the echo of Dernel¡¯s voice within her mind makes her grasp on reality feel unsteady. ¡®Just stop...stop it!¡¯


    Dernel¡¯s voice falls silent, but another voice emerges...outside of her mind...above her. Sia opens her eyes into slits and peers up at the dirt edge she had fallen over. No one is there. Sweat rolls down the spaces between her eyes and her nose, she swiftly blinks and tries to ignore the stinging. Her eyes follow along the edge of the hole until she sees the shape of a person staring down at her with their head cocked to the side.


    ¡°Hello?! Hello?! Are you okay?!¡± the woman kneeling beside the edge of the toilet pit yells down. The woman reaches down a hand at first, but another look at Sia¡¯s weak trembling form makes her retract it. She raises up from her knees and turns away from the toilet pit to call her companions over to help her.


    The sound of an engine can be heard, Sia focuses on the oncoming vehicle, the woman¡¯s voice is secondary compared to the holy rumble of her rescuers'' chariot. Tremors travel along the ground and Sia relaxes back against her wall of dirt. Tears clean paths down her cheeks as she loses her grip on the wall and her consciousness.


    Two doors slam shut and two pairs of boots rush toward the woman standing at the edge of the toilet pit. ¡°What the f*ck! Wasn¡¯t he dead?¡±


    <hr>


    2034


    Unknown, W.A.R.T.S


    The first thing Sia notices when she awakens is the faint sound of whistling. The second thing Sia notices is the awful smell in the air. Next, is the pain, or the lack of the excruciating agony she¡¯d endured since giving up control to the device. This is much more manageable.


    The burning tightness around her wrists and ankles report to her that she is restrained, but the sick, suffocating nausea that has set in make her peel her crusty eyes open to reveal that she is hanging upside down.


    The sun beats down on her form and casts a shadow on the decrepit, brick building her shoulder rests against. The heat radiating off the building is constant. The sun¡¯s unwavering attention on the building keeps her roasting at a steady pace. When she tilts her head up...down...down to see how high she is. ¡°Oh god,¡± she¡¯s at least four floors high...if not five. ¡°Fuuu-¡± she chokes on her words.


    The mess at the back of her throat forces itself out, and she tries to spit it away from her face, but she lacks the needed angle of being right side up. She lacks the strength to hold it back. She chokes... her head jerks back and collides with the dusty, crumbling wall while the warm substance flows down her face and into her hair. She sputters and shakes, turning her dangling body in a half circle before she taps the wall and teeters back the other direction.


    The strain on her bound ankles forces a hoarse groan from her split lips. She grinds her teeth against the pain and struggles to stop her coughing fit. The rope is tight around her ankles, splitting the skin and wrapped in an intricate knot to keep her hanging tight while her captors figure out what they are to do with an enemy that won¡¯t die. When her body stops its¡¯ slow teetering, she continues to grind her teeth, but the pain is a bit more bearable.


    She tries to focus...focus on the situation. How did she get here? Where is here? Why is she tied up like this? ¡®What the hell is going on?¡¯

 66: Entanglement 2

    That last thing she remembers is giving S.I.D permission to use her body to escape the aggressive guard. She was pushed into immersive mode and watched a thing that looked like Dernel, Apex...he was being tortured and then the connection shut off and she was trapped in a void of silence. Why had she been shut away then forced awake in that pit of wormy creatures?


    She represses a shudder. ¡®Did I die again? What the hell did that computer do this time?¡¯


    Instead of the expected silence, Dernel replies to a few of her inquiries. ¡®We seem to be hanging upside down. We were restrained by the mercenaries. We have many injuries that are in varied stages of healing.¡¯ The words sound like a whisper, but they make her cringe as if he shouted. The words fill her mind to the brim and make it feel cramped.


    Sia doesn¡¯t respond. Instead, her breathing increases and she tries to adjust the position of the ropes around her wrists without moving too much.


    ¡®S.I.D,¡¯ Dernel continues projecting his thoughts into the space shared between them. ¡®S.I.D to APEX connect. Password verification: N-Y-Z-9-2-8-4-9-3-4-5.¡¯


    ¡®Get out,¡¯ It¡¯s a sliver of thought compared to the Underlings, but he still hears her.


    ¡®This isn¡¯t my will. I...I would never force my way into your mind, but...¡¯ He is hesitant to finish the thought.


    ¡®Get out.''


    ¡®I seem to be stuck.¡¯ He finally admits.


    Silence.


    ¡®What did you do?!¡¯ Sia¡¯s rage aids her in projecting that thought as loud as possible. It¡¯s a tsunami of pain, fury, and disgust. It surprises the Underling, the shock makes his control on his own mental faculties slip and a burst of hurt and confusion projects back at Sia. Though it happens within her mind, the feelings settle in her chest as if they were her own.


    A slight feeling of burning spreads through her nose and a lump forms in her throat, her lips pout before she gasps out a sorrowful moan.


    ¡®I...I did nothing. I was in pain. S.I.D must have seen a need to-¡¯ Dernel pleads his case.


    ¡°Mm...,¡± Tears stream down her forehead and into her scummy hair. ¡®What is this?! What the hell are you doing?!¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m sorry.¡¯ Dernel resumes control over his personal feelings, they all slip back into the steel bubble he has created within her mind, to stop integration. And just like that, the feelings are gone, and the ache inside her chest is gone. Her eyes dry up, only her anger and pain remain.


    ¡®This is crazy. This can¡¯t be happening.¡¯


    ¡®Sia, this is a mistake. Something grave must have occurred to compel S.I.D to initiate this program. We both must have been in grave danger. Several factors must be taken into-¡¯


    ¡®Shut up.¡¯ Sia can¡¯t take it anymore. She wiggles until her body begins to sway from side to side.


    ¡®You don¡¯t seem to understand. S.I.D can¡¯t initiate a program of this magnitude unless certain conditions are met. Its¡¯ objective must be to-¡¯


    ¡®This isn¡¯t that crummy computer. This is you...isn¡¯t it? This is what you always do. Wait for me to need help and take over my body. Send me images to feel bad for you then use me like some sort of puppet. What did you do?¡¯


    Her ankles burn as the sway increases into a slow swing, back and forth...back and forth. Her back begins to ache. She doesn¡¯t repress the groans that spring up her throat and strain against her teeth, the teeth that grind down harder as she feels cool blood run down her legs.


    Her efforts to squeeze a hand out of the ropes bound around her wrists are futile. The ropes are cutting off the circulation in her hands, so tight she fears that soon all sensation may be strangled out of them. Several floors down are large blocks of rubble of varying sizes stacked up against the side of the building. Sia looks down at the rubble with a fierce look in her eyes.


    ¡®We are very high. Please calm down. I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll survive a drop from this height with the S.I.D¡¯s processors preoccupied.¡¯


    A loud cry rips from Sia, the pain in her ankles has traveled down her legs. The thick rope rubs against flesh and muscle while she continues to make herself oscillate away from the brick wall, swing back toward it, then veer off to circle around. The vibrations run up the rope to the railing it is tied around, it won¡¯t give. Stolen story; please report.


    ¡®Calm down?! What did I tell you?¡¯


    Silence.


    ¡®I said if you took over my body again, I¡¯d end this one way or another! Did you think I was lying?! Do you see me as a fool?¡¯


    Sia¡¯s shoulder grazes the facade of the building as she continues to jerk her body to and fro...the speed picks up and so does the torture being wrought to her ankles. The rope tied around the railing quivers a bit to the right, a bit to the left, but it won¡¯t give. Sia doesn¡¯t care who hears her, she yells in agony as she twirls in a circle and collides with the wall. Her swinging comes to a stop and she screams in outrage.


    ¡®Sia please...I don''t know what¡¯s going on. All I remember is the lab.¡¯


    ¡®Don¡¯t go on...I know this already. Sia, I need your help. The only way to solve this is to do what I say and work together. Find me Sia, listen to me Sia, I¡¯m your only hope Sia. I saw what state you¡¯re in. You¡¯re pathetic. How could you help me? We¡¯re both trapped. I¡¯ll never get home. I¡¯m going to die here.¡¯


    The whistling in the distance has stopped. If she focuses, she can hear noises of people far away. Pots and pans clattering, water...a car engine.....so she isn¡¯t as far from people as she initially thought. The vehicle doesn¡¯t sound very far off. They¡¯re coming.


    She blinks rapidly as tears flow down her forehead. It hurts to admit it. All of this has been for nothing. She¡¯s been trying to not to swim against the current, blend in -hide her identity and these abilities, lie her way to gaining the mercenaries trust, and steal whatever she needs to achieve her goal.


    But that¡¯s not her. She¡¯s not like these people. She¡¯s not a thief, she¡¯s not a killer...she¡¯s barely a grown woman. She bites her lower lip and shivers as cool tears blind her from seeing a truck pull up beside the large misshapen cement blocks.


    ¡®This is it. I¡¯m done. I can¡¯t do this. It¡¯s over.¡¯ A chill runs up her spine as she imagines how they will treat her. ¡°Mmm...Daddy.¡± She should say her farewells now while she has the chance.


    ¡®Please...take a moment to....digest this situation and you will see that this must be S.I.D malfunctioning. Something is wrong.¡¯


    ¡°Daddy...I wasn¡¯t enough and I¡¯m sorry.¡± She should have told him she wanted to see him more. That she didn¡¯t mind seeing his new wife. That she would deal with it, if it meant she could see him more often. That she wasn¡¯t jealous of his new family, that he¡¯d always be her father. That she loved him.


    ¡®Sia, please.¡¯


    ¡°Mommy. Aaliyah, I miss you so much. I only wanted to see you one more time. I lied to you. I lied. I didn¡¯t know he had her. I didn¡¯t know, Mommy.¡± Her heart beats loudly in her ears. She freely sobs, gasping and coughing, her body shutters and sways gently from side to side. She can¡¯t hear the heavy footsteps in the building beside her.


    ¡°It¡¯s over. They¡¯ve come for me.¡±


    Dernel wishes he could leave her to mourn the distance from her pod in peace. He knows more than anyone how draining it is to be so far from home and those that love you. He knows her pain...but if she loses the will to fight, he will lose his only connection to the outside world. His only way out.


    ¡®Is there not one doubt? You are so very important to me, Sia.¡¯ Sia gives a wet scoff at that, but Dernel continues. ¡®You saw the condition I was in. I am very weak, that is why I need you. That is why I would not torment you like this. You saw where I am, what they were doing to me. You saw...¡¯


    ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± Sia closes her eyes and visualizes the laboratory room. The form on the leather chair strapped down and writhing against the bindings. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    ¡®But did you see WHO had me? Who has done this to me? They are to blame for all of this. Not I.¡¯


    She remembers the room. How familiar the setup looked compared to her jobs own biopsy labs. She remembers the words on the sheet of paper pinned to the wall. EXPLORERTECH INDUSTRIES.


    ¡®They¡¯ve broken me, Sia. I am pathetic. I cannot get free. I am a prisoner within my own body, within my own mind.¡¯ Dernel loosens his grip on his emotions for a moment and Sia gasps at the feelings of shame and regret.


    ¡®You are a dear ally to me. I want the same as you...to see my family again. But it won¡¯t work if you¡¯re broken too. I need you.¡¯


    ¡°Of course...of course,¡± Sia¡¯s hoarse voice spits out with disdain. Her mind flashes to her family, the wanderers, the mercenaries...and finally Dernel. Everything they said they needed. More space and time, more information and goods, more patience...more of her body. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡®These people may have hacked S.I.D. Do you know if they have contact with the Deep Society Syndicate...any of their operatives?¡¯


    ¡®Oh my god! Stop talking, nothing you can say will convince me. Third times the charm. You¡¯ve really pissed me off the deep end.¡¯ She chokes on her next cough. He just won¡¯t stop. He won¡¯t leave her alone. ¡®Enjoy this while you can cause the first...the first....actually they have a doctor. I¡¯ll tell them everything...I¡¯ll tell them and they¡¯ll-¡®


    Footsteps walk through the open doorway across from where the rope secured to Sia¡¯s legs is tied. Several pairs of feet stomp through and disrupt the overall silence.


    ¡®Please Sia, why would I want you in danger? I need you safe. I need you. Why would I work against you in such a way?¡¯


    ¡®How should I know?! You created this f*ck! I¡¯m sure you have some twisted alien logic!¡¯


    Dernel ignores the insult that he, a being bred from one of the oldest species that have existed on this earth even longer than homo sapiens, could be an alien.


    ¡®I don¡¯t know how we got into this situation, but...My survival instinct would surely condemn me from killing off my only ally. I know this. You are innocent of all charges that my captives are guilty of. I think you have been mistaken to believe that you are at a disadvantage to anyone. You have abilities that these people would kill to acquire.¡¯ Sia pauses at that thought. ¡®The lead is yours. Your family is waiting for you. Stop hiding, Sia. Stop running. We can do this. Our goals are the same, my friend.¡¯


    But the cocking of a gun disrupts their discussion and wipes Sia¡¯s mind clean of all thoughts.

 67: Cease to Resist

    <h1>2034</h1>


    Unknown, W.A.R.T.S


    Hands grab at the taut rope and Sia screams in pain as two pairs of hands pull her up and over the metal railing.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe he¡¯s still alive.¡±


    The hands tightly grip her arms and legs to deposit her down on the cracked cement floor. Her right shoulder rests against an opening in the wall while her left shoulder rests against the dusty ground of what seems to be another parking garage. This one has old dusty cars left parked in their original spaces.


    Her dark hair has fallen to lay flat on her face and obscure it from view, but her eyes erratically search between their legs for more details, something to help her escape, but ...her eyes pause...fixated on the gun in one of their hands. While the two mercenaries bend down to grab at Sia¡¯s arms, a bearded mercenary keeps his weapon pointed at her head.


    This is it. The blood pounding in her ears deafens her to all other sounds. Her eyes close and she tries to steady her breathing, but it¡¯s out of control. Quick and fast breathes push out of her mouth while she trembles in the mens¡¯ hands. Her legs scratch lines through the dirt when they push her forward to settle on her knees. Oh, god. This is it.


    I am here with you. You are not alone, Lomlen. Dernel whispers within her mind.


    She stiffens and holds her breath, while tears stream down her face. But suddenly, her arms are jerked up and her legs are aligned underneath her, to take her weight. She isn¡¯t ready for that and collapses. Sia¡¯s breath hiccups as she slams onto her backside and crushes her hands underneath herself. She exclaims in surprise and looks up at the angry gunman.


    The bearded man¡¯s scowling mouth is moving rapidly, she tries to listen beyond her panicked breathing and heartbeat, tries to catch what he is saying. ¡°¡ªare here? If you¡¯d like more time to think we can drop you back over the railing and come back in a few hours. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll have much of a chance to talk though. You might be busy with a few of the goons that fly by during this time of the year.¡±


    Sia shakes her head. ¡°No, please, I¡¯m ready to talk,¡± her raspy voice desperately begs for a chance to explain herself.


    ¡°Alright then!¡± The men raise her to her feet once more, and one of them pulls out a dagger to cut the ropes off her feet. The bloody cords stick to her legs and have to be pried off by the side of the blade before they drop to the floor. The men cringe internally.


    Her guards shove her ahead to walk down the staircase, but her strength fails her. They end up dragging her most of the way. When they arrive at the truck, Sia is tossed into the open truck bed and a dirty sack is tugged over her head. As the truck rumbles to life, Sia takes a deep breath and fully regrets it. The sack smells disgusting, and with that deep breath, the musty cloth is sucked into her mouth.


    She gags, shakes her head, and drops it to the truck bed to use the metal floor to peel the cloth off. A boot presses up against the back of her skull and she halts all movement.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even try it, Savage,¡± a low voice mutters from beside her. She hadn¡¯t even noticed one of the men jump into the back of the truck with her. He probably has his gun aimed at her...ready to end it all if she makes the slightest movement toward him. Sia lays still, tucks her head into her chest, and curls up into a ball, to look as diminutive as possible.


    The truck bumps down the road at a slow pace, either because there is no rush, or the terrain is too treacherous to risk ruining a tire. Sia hopes there is no rush. She hopes they know how to handle her, that they aren¡¯t in a panic and ready to beat answers out of her.


    What will I tell them? Dernel has gone silent after that terrifying scare.


    With even a small breath, Sia can tell how awful she smells. Rancid, like she¡¯s been rolling around in feces, blood, and sweat. Which makes sense, but there is one other smell that she¡¯s confused to encounter. She smells burnt. Why do I smell like someone tried to set me on fire?


    Her face is pressed up against the hot metal, but the cloth sack protects her skin, unlike her bloody ankles. The torn flesh presses against the metal and dirt, and the sting makes her groan and curl more into herself. The longer they drive, the closer the sounds of people come until they¡¯re all around them. The cacophony of sound is indecipherable to her ears. All the voices merge into each other and Sia can¡¯t tell which voice comes from where, from who, for what.


    She tilts her head up to catch a glimpse of something. The little imperfections in the sack allow a bit of daylight to seep through the holes. When a person walks up beside the truck their shadow blocks the light. The boot returns to press down on the side of her head, Sia bites her lower lip and groans as she is forced to lay flat.


    Her hands are still bound at the wrist, but she feels a slither of burning rage in her heart at the press of the boot. She wants to slap the foot aside, knock the gun out of the man¡¯s hands, and punch him in the face. Her breathes pick up speed and the mercenary gives her a kick. ¡°Don¡¯t get any funny ideas, Savage.¡±


    Savage? What the hell happened? What is going on? The rage in her chest vanishes at that, Sia goes rigid against the truck bed.


    The engine rumbles and the shadows decrease from around the truck. The smell is still awful, but she can barely notice beyond the terror coursing through her veins, that¡¯s numbed her down to her core. She shivers and each gasp takes more effort to breathe than the last. They kill Savages without a second thought. Why aren¡¯t I dead yet?This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Finally, they arrive at their destination and Sia is pulled from the back with the sack muffling her every breath. She can barely regain her balance before two of the men grab hold of her and drag her toward a metal fence. The gunman backs away from them to stick his hands inside the metal grating and move it aside before they continue down...down a tunnel until the sack is ripped off of her head to reveal a pink beach chair illuminated by the sunlight from outside.


    Two metal chairs sit across from the plastic chair in front of her, and with a look from the left to the right, Sia can recall being in this area before. It¡¯s the underground parking garage the mercenaries had entered when the sandstorm had begun. But the storm is over, and the people have gone left the underground shelter. She¡¯s shoved into the chair.


    Sia can¡¯t grip the back of the chair because her sweaty palms are still bound together. She tries to steady herself by bending her knees and pressing her belly against the top of the chair. She succeeds and turns around to see the retreating backs of two guards exiting the tunnel.


    ¡°Sit,¡± the gunman grunts at her from beside a cement beam. Sia stumbles into the chair, the plastic legs give out and it falls onto its side.


    The guy is standing off to the side with his gun fixed on the back of her head. He quirks an eyebrow at her stunt and rounds her position until he can crouch down to grab the side of the chair. His eyes remain on Sia the entire time. The chair is set upright and he backs off.


    Sia wobbles against the plastic frame, but catches herself, lines herself up with it and settles herself onto it tenderly. She slouches forward while facing the two empty chairs with her hands pressed against the pink fabric backing of the chair. There is no time to wonder who she¡¯s waiting for when footsteps come stomping through the entrance.


    Should I tell them everything? She licks her lips and cringes at the repulsive taste of whatever has been smeared onto her skin these past few hours. She leans off to the side and spits. Should I...tell them the truth?


    Dernel¡¯s words come to mind.


    You have abilities that these people would kill to acquire. Stop hiding, Sia. Stop running.


    She closes her eyes, tries to think...tries to understand how they might react. To formulate a response that might save her life for a few more hours...something that could give her a few more days.


    Your family is waiting for you.


    The footsteps arrive behind her and she hears another pair come running down the tunnel before the sound of metal chair legs scraping on the ground echoes around the entrance. Sia grinds her teeth at the irritating noise.


    ¡°Marcus...,¡± an unknown woman¡¯s voice softly speaks. It¡¯s calm.


    Sia flinches at the soft sound and slouches further into her chair.


    ¡°If that¡¯s even your real name....,¡± a more familiar voice joins the woman¡¯s, and Sia looks up to meet stern grey eyes. Ika is standing beside the two metal chairs where a woman and a man are seated. They appear unarmed...no...


    There it is. Sia¡¯s mouth twitches as Ika pulls a gun from his waistband. This couldn¡¯t get any worse.


    ¡°You can go stand outside.¡± The man seated in the metal chair gestures with his chin at the guard who continued to be ever vigilant with his weapon aimed at the back of the prisoner¡¯s head.


    They don''t know anything. They know nothing...nothing. Sia attempts to calm herself as the guard¡¯s footsteps retreat into the background. The metal fence is replaced to block the entrance, then silence falls upon the four of them until the woman decides to begin.


    ¡°We won¡¯t keep asking you, so decide now on whether you want to continue breathing out here among the living or out in the dung heap among the filth. With the damage we¡¯ll do to you it won¡¯t take long for you to succumb to your wounds,¡± the woman says this matter-of-factly while staring at Sia¡¯s battered, filthy appearance.


    ¡°We saw that you have a knack for healing, but we¡¯re surprised you¡¯ve survived this long. What kind of Savage are you?¡± The man begins the questioning while Ika watches Sia¡¯s every movement, his finger itches beside the trigger of his gun. Sia can¡¯t take her eyes off that finger.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°What was your mission?¡±


    ¡°Who sent you? The Lord of the Light? The Lord of Dirt?¡±


    ¡°Was it the Lord of the Wilds or the Lord of the Winds? Who is your master?¡±


    Sia licks her chapped, torn lips and grimaces at the taste. ¡°It¡ª¡± the pain in her throat makes her pause. ¡°It wasn¡¯t...I.¡±


    ¡°This is your last chance. It¡¯s simple. Give us something or we¡¯ll have no need to keep you.¡± At the woman¡¯s word, Ika¡¯s thumb flicks up the safety of his weapon and the click brings a cold sweat to the back of Sia¡¯s neck.


    Her eyes flicker up to his stone-cold gaze and back down to his index finger that now rests on the trigger. She glances at her calm interrogators. Neither of them is looking at her, they appear to be planning what they will do when they leave this area, already sure that Sia won¡¯t reveal any answers to their questions. Sure of the outcome.


    Dammit...Dammit...Okay. Sia¡¯s right leg anxiously bounces up and down. She feels sticky in all the wrong places and this isn¡¯t the proper time to want to use the bathroom, but she can feel everything that is left of her bladder signaling to her brain that nature is calling. ¡°She¡¯s probably dead by now.¡±


    The interrogators direct their eyes at Sia¡¯s cringing form. ¡°Your leader?¡± the woman asks while leaning back in her chair. The Lord of the Winds or Dirt? Which of those lousy bitches has decided to attack our compound?


    They remain silent until Sia scrounges up the courage to speak again. ¡°Priya.¡±


    Several things happen at once. The interrogators are taken aback and look back at each other confused. ¡°When¡ª¡± The man blinks and turns to the second in command of W.A.R.T.S for some clarification, but Ika¡¯s no longer standing guard beside their female companion.


    Just a moment after Sia spoke the name, Ika lunges across the room and tackles her. He mounts her chest. The barrel of the gun bashes her across the face. He drops his weapon and grips her neck. Two eyes look back at him, one brown and the other¡­opaque silver, reflecting his fury back at him. ¡°It wasn¡¯t even injured was it? You were just biding your time. Playing a wounded dog. Oh, poor Marcus.¡±


    Sia croaks and wants to throw up a hand to push him off, but her hands are still bound at the wrist behind her back. She can¡¯t fight back, she can¡¯t stop his hands from squeezing her throat. Her legs buck underneath him. Her vision is clouded by black spots and she gasps for air.


    ¡°Poor little...Marcus.¡± The look on Ika¡¯s face burns straight through her cloudy vision and is seared into her soul. Pure hatred.


    For the first time, he relishes the moment of feeling his enemy¡¯s last throes of life wrung out of them. Sia¡¯s last thought slips out of her gasping mouth, ¡°You¡¯ll...all...die...if they come next.¡± Gasping like a fish out of water, on her last stretch, this is the life line she holds firm to. Certainty that things can get worse, and ExplorerTech Industries will be there to prosper.

 68: Confessions

    2034


    W.A.R.T.S


    ¡°Stop it!¡± The interrogators are hesitant at first, in shock that Ika would lose control so early, but Sia¡¯s words break them out of their stupefied paralysis. They scramble out of their chairs to separate the two. One goes for his hands to peel his fingers off Marcus¡¯s throat while the other put their hands beneath his arms to haul his body off the prisoner¡¯s chest. ¡°Calm down!¡±


    Ika doesn¡¯t fight their interference but throws out a kick to the body before being tugged back toward the chairs. He licks his gums and spits off to the side. The woman releases her hold on Ika but doesn¡¯t turn her back on the angry man. His breathing is erratic, trembling fists are clenched at his side, and when she blocks his view of Marcus, he sidesteps her to glower at the motionless prisoner. The woman places a hand on his chest and takes a step to the side to stand in his way.


    ¡°Wait! Wait.¡± She can¡¯t think of a suitable way to rebuke the furious man, but he pauses, and she swallows her words. A bead of sweat runs down her temple, he¡¯s allowed her to stop his progress, and she¡¯s grateful for it. She drops her hand and turns to her companion and the prisoner. ¡°Is he-?¡±


    The other interrogator has his fingers pressed to Marcus¡¯s throat when he shakes his head, ¡°He¡¯s unconscious.¡± He fixes the pink folding chair to sit upright and rises from his crouch.


    Ika moves in her peripheral, sidling over to the prisoner to retrieve his gun. She watches the second-in-command warily as he snatches the weapon off the ground and nonchalantly examines the weapon for blemishes.


    The woman¡¯s brows meet, her forehead wrinkles in confusion. She opens her mouth, shuts it, then forces a breath through her nostrils. ¡®Someone¡¯s got to be professional here.¡¯ Her eyes meet with her companion, and he squints at her exasperated form before nodding.


    The other interrogator places his hands on his hips and presses his lips into a line. ¡°Did he look threatening to you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Ika quits eyeing the superficial scratch on the side of his gun and flicks a finger to engage the safety. He reholsters his weapon at the small of his back and moves toward Marcus.


    ¡°Then what was that? He was cooperating.¡± The female interrogator steps within reach of Ika and gestures at the prisoner¡¯s body. Ika glares at her and tilts his head up to meet her gaze, ignoring her gesture. He doesn¡¯t have to look again, he knows what he¡¯d see.


    Marcus¡¯s legs are sprawled out and his head is lolled to the side. His black hair is spilling over his face. The bruising on his neck is already beginning to fade at the edges.


    ¡°He¡¯s a lying Savage. That¡¯s how he got in here, and I won¡¯t listen while he drags Priya¡¯s name through the mud to save his ass.¡± He scowls at the arm the woman raises to impede his path, snorts at the attempt. ¡®As if I need your permission.¡¯


    ¡°We need the information he has,¡± the other interrogator interjects while stepping closer to the others. ¡°Think of the children.¡± Ika and the woman roll their eyes at the man¡¯s melodramatic tone. ¡°Seriously, Pheno hasn¡¯t figured out why they¡¯ve gotten sick. What if he knows what¡¯s really going on?¡±


    ¡°It might not be what you think. You didn¡¯t let him finish.¡±


    Ika isn¡¯t given a chance to reply. Marcus¡¯s body shudders against the dirty ground before taking a few violent breaths. His wrists strain against the rope bindings while coughs wrack his form. All three of the mercenaries turn to their prisoner and wait for the coughing fit to end.


    The female interrogator spares a glance down at Ika and is satisfied to see him retreat to sit in a metal chair. He ignores Marcus and the interrogators, grey eyes peering off into the darkness, clearly in wait for the interrogation session¡¯s end; when he can finally get rid of the Savage.


    ¡°Marcus?¡± Down one chair, the interrogators decide to stand to show a unified front and patiently wait for the prisoner to respond.


    <hr>


    ¡®Oh my god. Oh my god. Did I die?¡¯ The blessing of air burns on its way to her lungs, but after the initial irritation- a feeling descends over Sia, a numbing balm on her tortured nerves. All the aches and pains that ailed her prior to Ika¡¯s attack have vanished. Sia blinks behind her curtain of hair at the legs of her captives and doesn¡¯t miss a beat before pretending to have a hard time to breathing.


    NEGATIVE


    ¡®You¡¯re back!¡¯ She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d feel this much relief at hearing the contemptible device¡¯s monotone voice but there it is.


    ¡®S.I.D!¡¯ Dernel is bursting with joy at the artificial intelligence¡¯s return.


    NEGATIVE


    THE SYNTHETIC INTELLIGENCE DEVELOPER NEVER LEFT


    Sia rolls her eyes and tries to bring a realistic end to her coughing fit. The eyes scrutinizing her make the side of her head itch with anticipation. ¡®What happened? What did you do?! What did you do to the mercenaries when I gave you control?!¡¯


    The Synthetic Intelligence Developer doesn¡¯t waste time describing the past and accesses its memory files to share the events that occurred the last time it was operational in the underground parking garage. To the interrogators, it¡¯s merely a few seconds of Sia lying slack against the dusty floor, but within Sia¡¯s mind images flicker by at an incredible speed. Before she can fully form a question, her mind grasps the information held in each image and processes the next incoming bundle of sights and sounds. When the rush is over, Sia releases the breath she¡¯s been holding.


    ¡®You really screwed me over. You don¡¯t like me, do you?¡¯


    NEGATIVE


    THE SYNTHETIC INTELLIGENCE DEVELOPER IS NOT CAPABLE


    OF EMOTIONAL REACTIONS OR ATTACHMENTSupport the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    SUBJECT 001 IS MISTAKEN


    Sia can¡¯t put her finger on it, but she thinks the device is being smug. ¡®I don¡¯t have time for this.¡¯


    TIME IS A CONSTRUCT MAINTAINED BY AN AGGREGATE¡¯S


    UNDERSTANDING OF IT


    FURTHERMORE IT IS UNQUANTIFIABLE


    SUBJECT 001 IS-


    ¡®You-¡¯Sia frowns at the device¡¯s response. She definitely feels it now. It¡¯s not even a little repentant. ¡®You piece of ¨C¡¯


    ¡®S.I.D! Don¡¯t exasperate Sia. Do as she says.¡¯


    AFFIRMATIVE APEX


    ¡°Marcus, can you hear us?¡± Sia hears a familiar woman¡¯s voice speaking from above. She flinches when a hand is placed on her neck. ¡°Marcus?¡±


    Sia grunts, and squints behind her hair to see the woman crouching beside her is the interrogator that had been sitting across from her moments before. The woman¡¯s face is set in a deep frown, and her eyes have an apologetic slant to them. ¡°Can you talk?¡±


    ¡®This would be a great time to deepen my voice.¡¯ Sia¡¯s tone confuses the device, but the order gets across.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The woman sighs and pulls her hand away from Sia¡¯s neck. She rises to stand beside her companion and gestures to the folding chair. ¡°You can-¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine down here.¡± Sia slowly moves along the ground to keep everyone in view. Her eyes fix on the side of Ika¡¯s head for several seconds before focusing on the interrogators. Both have their hair shaved low and close to the scalp, Sia has seen many armed mercenaries and shelter dwellers with a similar haircut. The woman is wearing civilian clothing, a loose shirt paired with dirty jeans, but stands the same as the man- straight with her shoulders rolled back. The man is wearing a dark outfit similar to Ika¡¯s, a tight-fitting t-shirt and cargo pants.


    They wanted to calm their prisoner¡¯s nerves, bring in a woman to play the good cop, but this woman is clearly military of some sort. Sia tests the rope bindings on her wrists.


    After a quick glance to her superior¡¯s tense back, the woman begins the interrogation again. ¡°I think we were talking about who sent you here? Your boss.¡±


    ¡°I think-¡± Sia¡¯s eyes leave the interrogators to observe the crazy man before she begins again. ¡®It¡¯s my best plan. I have to go for it.¡¯ She eases out a slow breath before beginning again. ¡°I think you¡¯ve got it all wrong.¡± Sia studies the side of the sniper¡¯s face for any signs of insanity, any signs he might jump to his feet to give her another taste of true fear. Sia gulps, she can feel the dampness in her pants and is sure there¡¯d be a puddle of piss beneath her if she¡¯d had more liquid in her.


    They wait for her to continue. ¡°I¡¯m not your enemy. I¡¯m not a Savage.¡±


    The woman snorts. ¡°We¡¯d love to believe that, but after all you¡¯ve done to convince us otherwise...¡±


    ¡°Savage or not. You injured and killed many of our men.¡± Her companion sternly glares down at Sia¡¯s pathetic form.


    ¡°Killed?¡± There goes the hope that everyone had survived their wounds. ¡®Fuck. Dammit. Shit. Okay...okay.¡¯ Sia pushes past the shock and continues. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for things to get out of hand. I was attacked by a guard...¡±


    ¡°After stealing from our reserves, after lying to us, after pretending to be a weak merchant that was lost in the Wastes.¡± Sia flinches at the calmly uttered words, Ika doesn¡¯t need to yell to get his point across and averts her gaze to meet the enraged eyes of the sniper.


    ¡°You seemed ready to talk before...¡± The woman trails off a moment before making eye contact with her companion, he nods and takes a step away from Sia. ¡°If you¡¯ve changed your mind we can-¡± She takes a step away from Sia, leaving a clear path from Ika to her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t...Yes, I¡¯m ready to talk. I just...wanted to clear up some-¡± Sia licks her lips and fidgets her legs. ¡°I...¡±


    Ika springs up out of his seat. ¡°Underlings!¡± Sia shouts, curls up as tightly as she can, and closes her eyes. Her breath picks up and she waits for the sniper to charge forward to beat her. But...nothing happens. Everyone is silent. No footsteps echo off the walls.


    ¡°Underlings? What do you mean Underlings?¡± the woman tentatively asks. Sia opens her eyes to see the woman holding a hand to her companion''s chest, stopping him from moving forward. Ika is frozen in front of his chair.


    ¡°I ...¡± Sia uncurls herself and tilts her head up to look the woman in the eyes. ¡°I need to rescue an Underling out of an ExplorerTech Industries facility...several days from here.¡±


    No one speaks to interrupt her, so she continues. ¡°I was given a special device. It can help me...in a lot of ways, but I need more manpower to break into the labs. So, I went searching for more people. You...you people were the first ones I¡¯ve come across after setting out in that desert. Then we were attacked, and I didn¡¯t know what to do...how to help. I didn¡¯t know if you would help me, so I lied.¡±


    ¡°And the supplies?¡± the male interrogator interrupts.


    ¡°I got it from a storage container depot outside of Coldstone. It¡¯s all in my truck. I thought it would be a good bartering tool, but the bugs happened and the storm¡­¡±


    Silence. Her questioners seem to be involved in a silent conversation, but Ika continues. ¡°Why did you mention Priya?¡±


    ¡°The device I¡¯ve been given...¡± Sia bites her lower lip after uttering those few words, but Ika isn¡¯t satisfied by that vague answer. One of his boots advances toward her and waves of explanations stream out of her mouth one after the other. ¡°It gives me access to a GPS program that scans everything out there! I saw signs that she was still alive. I tried to tell you. I didn¡¯t think you would believe me.¡± Ika doesn¡¯t stop his approach.


    ¡°I wanted to save her! I needed supplies. I went through the trucks. I stole medicine. I gathered as much as I could, but the guard stopped me...he was going to kill me. I just wanted to help. She was alive!¡± Sia repeats the last sentence and cringes as Ika continues to advance toward her.


    Ika marches past and tugs a radio from his side pocket. ¡°Dennis? I need transport and medical supplies.¡±


    There¡¯s a slight pause before the radio comes alive in his hand. ¡°When, Lobito?¡±


    Ika glances over his shoulder at the pitiful mess the prisoner has become, attempting to shrink into the ground and escape his wrath. ¡°Yesterday.¡± After that he exits the entrance tunnel, changing the frequency to bark short orders into his radio and get his team ready.


    MEASURES HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO ALLEVIATE


    SUBJECT 001 SYMPTOMS


    IS IMMERSIVE MODE REQUIRED


    ¡®Shut up.¡¯ Sia¡¯s cowering halts when she can no longer hear his voice. Sia sighs and small pebbles near her face shift under her heavy breathes. Pretending to be injured is tasking, but the fear that grips her when that man is near doesn¡¯t need to be feigned.


    She hadn¡¯t noticed him much when they were with the Wanderers, he was shorter than all the other men and she¡¯d thought he was a teenage boy. Some poor kid stuck with the shit end of the stick, forced to grow up early. Even when he¡¯d ruined her escape plan, she¡¯d still overlooked his presence. He was quiet and unimportant. Right up until Vanessa held a gun to his face, the indifference he¡¯d shown was otherworldly.


    She¡¯d hoped not to see someone like that ever again, but ¡®lo and behold they met again, and she¡¯d ruined her second impression being a lying spazz. That moment of distraction, when she¡¯d touched him, had shown her how ingrained his skills were. If she¡¯d had her hands free, he would have destroyed her easily. Without the device, she¡¯s no match for someone who¡¯s survived in this nightmare world, without an advantage like S.I.D, and has prospered.


    The others aren¡¯t done with her. ¡°We¡¯ll die if they come next?¡± the interrogator slowly pronounces each word and brings Sia¡¯s attention back to her. ¡°Who is ¡°they¡±?¡±


    Sia clenches her eyes closed. ¡®Out of the frying pan and right into the fire.¡¯*


    *It¡¯s a phrase that means a person has moved from a bad situation into an even worse situation

 69: Glimpse

    <h1>2034</h1>


    Underground Garage Shelter, W.A.R.T.S


    Sia releases a slow breath out her nose and tries to gather her thoughts before beginning to speak again. ¡°ExplorerTech Industries.¡± Her interrogators step back to drop into their chairs, eyes ever watchful and interest clearly peaked. ¡°What¡­do you know¡­about them?¡±


    Sia hopes that things go as planned. Maybe she can get through this. No one has mentioned her resemblance to herself and Ika is one of the few people that could clearly identify her. They continue to refer to her as Marcus, her cover is intact, but for how long? The only other people who had contact with her were Eli, Turner, and those Wanderers. Who seem to be missing. Were they killed at the river?


    She ignores that thought and moves onto the next. Hopefully, they¡¯re on the road to understanding she isn¡¯t a threat, but even if she convinces them not to kill her, she needs their cooperation, their manpower, and resources. If ExplorerTech Industries has no meaning to them, how can she convince them that they¡¯re a threat? What do these people cherish more than anything? What could ExplorerTech take from them?


    ¡°What do we know about them?¡± He shakes his head. ¡°This is where you tell us what you know. All of it. Not the other way around. Why do they matter?¡± The interrogator has a hand raised to rub his temple. His companion has a hand resting on her leg, an index finger tapping at her knee as she waits for the prisoner to continue.


    Sia bites her lower lip, and wiggles against the floor, struggling to prop herself up into a sitting position. It takes a few moments, and her interrogators don¡¯t raise a hand to help her, watching her every move with a look of distrust in their eyes.


    Sia doesn¡¯t meet their eyes. The fresh burn of embarrassment and shame settling in at the damp feel of her underwear rubbing against her skin. A sad sniff forces her to cough, the stench that clings to her is hellish. It¡¯ll probably mask the smell of piss. A glance at her filthy torn pants eases the embarrassment a bit- all the mud and filth she¡¯s crawled through has covered her with a way to disguise her...accident.


    She leans her head back to avoid another whiff of herself and ignores the moist fabric...tries to ignore it, before finally managing to sit up. Testing the patience of her interrogators doesn¡¯t seem like a good idea, so she starts again. ¡°They matter. They¡­.Their scientists have a habit of torturing people.¡±


    ¡°You mean the Underling. What does that have to do with us?¡± The male interrogator shrugs and shakes his head. ¡°Underling are no friends of ours. Where are you from?¡±


    Dammit. Sia is from a time when Underling, righteous pacifist sea dwellers, were an ally to all of mankind. There were people who disliked their secrecy and a few groups that petitioned for transparency and expeditions to illuminate the mysterious kingdoms under the sea. To learn their secrets, their weaknesses, and all about the incredible technology they¡¯ve been steadfast in denying humans access to. But overall, people trusted them.


    The nervous twitch of her lips barely registers as a smile. ¡°I¡¯m from here.¡±


    From what Sia has learned from traveling with the Wanderers and mercenaries, something shifted in the relations between Underling society and Cinalia. The Underling attacked and destroyed much of the country, along with the coasts of several of Cinalia¡¯s allies. The rest of the world scrambled to defend themselves and return fire, but none of the Wanderers knew of the success of any of those efforts.


    The Underling vanished from all known contact posts and were never seen again. A ceasefire was ordered when they could no longer locate their aquatic enemy. Officially, the war ended in a stalemate, but the human participants knew no real damage had been done to the other side and no armistice had been signed. If the sea dwellers rose up to attack once more, how would mankind retaliate?


    Sia never heard the reason for why the Underling began their attacks, but most don¡¯t care to speculate over the exact reason. They annihilated millions of Cinalians without warning, the reason why will never be sufficient enough to calm the incandescent rage the survivors have against the species as a whole. All hate the sea and fear it.


    Fuck. Shit. Fuck! She didn¡¯t factor any of that into her hurriedly made plans. Why the hell would they put their necks out for an unknown Underling? They wouldn¡¯t...she¡¯s failed again...revealed too much. Sia rapidly blinks, but her body is frozen in terror. Being a Savage is one thing, but being an Underling sympathizer? What do they do to them? Is it worse than execution?


    Sia...Maybe I can be of service to you? A calm port in a storm. Sia¡¯s annoyed by how blank her mind has gone. What could the fish say to sway the sharks from biting? She¡¯s doomed, and in the end, he¡¯s doomed as well. They¡¯re doomed. Sia doesn¡¯t reply.


    ¡°You¡¯re from here? And where is that exactly? What settlement are you from?¡±


    ¡°You say you aren¡¯t a Savage... and you don¡¯t act like any that we¡¯ve seen, but what would possess you to partner with Underling? What are they paying you?¡±


    ¡°You said they gave you a device. Where is it?¡±


    ¡°Who else is on this mission of yours?¡±


    ¡°Do you know a woman named Sia?¡±


    Sia can¡¯t halt the shock from forcing her mouth slack with disbelief. Have all the idiots died and left the smart to inherit the earth? It can¡¯t be that obvious. It doesn¡¯t matter. She has to keep talking or it¡¯s truly the end.  She uses the look of honest surprise and her mind works double time fabricating a backstory for her male persona and the settlement he¡¯s attached to.


    ¡°Wow...Did she tell you her real name?¡± A sheepish grin spreads across Sia¡¯s face. If this is her last hurrah, she should go all in.  ¡°We were hoping she didn¡¯t make a big impression on you guys.¡±


    The interrogators share a look and a short laugh. ¡°She¡¯s done more than that. She¡¯s been an absolute delight.¡± The woman¡¯s words are dripping with sarcasm.


    ¡°Were you traveling with her before we captured you?¡±


    Before you accidentally crashed into me you mean, stumbled upon me, before I allowed you to take me in...and screwed myself over. She doesn¡¯t correct them. ¡°We didn''t know River City was destroyed and we didn¡¯t know what we would find in Coldstone, but we were able to make contact with a ...valuable ally. The Underling I¡¯m looking for is alive. We know who took him.¡±


    They momentarily ignore the information about the Underling. ¡°Will she be joining you?¡±


    She¡¯s already here. Sia smirks. She keeps the taut, tight grip of fear in her chest out of sync with her movements, staying relaxed and fluid. She nods her head toward the exit. ¡°She¡¯s more useful out there than in here. We didn¡¯t know how friendly you¡¯d be if you saw her again.¡± She flashes an awkward look around the empty tunnel entrance. ¡°Actually, I imagined it¡¯d be something like this.¡±


    ¡°Are all your people like this?¡±


    ¡°Like this?¡±


    The woman gestures to her own neck.


    Sia touches her neck. ¡°Umm.¡±


    ¡°Are you and the woman the only mutated ones?¡± The man asks.


    ¡°N¡ªYes? It¡¯s only Sia and me.¡± ¡ªMyself and I. She shrugs. ¡°We were the first to volunteer. That was a part of the deal. In exchange for their help, we would complete this task. This is all they care about at the moment.¡±


    ¡°What kind of aid have they given you?¡±


    ¡°What do you think? All the things people need to thrive in this sort of world. Why else would we be desperate to please those freaks.¡± Sia puts up a confident front, giving an ¡°I know what I¡¯m talking about, so move this thing along¡± type of look. She takes a moment to meet each of their gazes before continuing. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you¡¯ve all fared out here, but we¡¯ve needed the outside help for a while. After a few years, we¡¯d sucked the surrounding areas dry with our scavenging parties. The land isn¡¯t ready to bare any fruit or vegetables. We were about ready to give up until they came. And that¡¯s how these things work. We didn¡¯t have a choice, and when ExplorerTech comes knocking you won¡¯t either. Only difference is we know our allies won¡¯t grab anyone while their sleeping. They don¡¯t need to test and torture¡­things actually work at sea.¡± Sia ends her speech with a nod. Please believe me. The thought keeps replaying inside her mind. Please.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    That gives the interrogators pause but not for long. ¡°You mentioned a device? Is that how they mutated you?¡±


    Don¡¯t speak of that. Dernel advises with a whisper of thought. Sia grimaces at the command but concedes to the logic behind it. If she reveals too much, she will talk herself into a hole, an even deeper one. ¡°There isn¡¯t much to say about it. I¡¯m not mutated, I¡¯m just...more.¡±


    The interrogators glance at each other for another moment of silent communication before the woman continues. ¡°How do we know you weren¡¯t experimented on and changed? What kind of contact have you had with the Underling?¡±


    Intimate contact.


    ¡°Not much. Everyone met for the deal. I was given the device and told where to start the search. We headed out the next day.¡±


    The interrogators are silent, then rise from their seats. Sia attempts to stop the flinch that works up her spine. They walk away a short distance to speak to each other. She tries to stay calm, slow breaths in, slow exhales out. She rubs her temple onto her shoulder, to wipe away the nervous sweat, but disguises the motion as a need to itch the side of her face and nose.


    When they return to their seats, the man starts it. ¡°They give you anything to back up any of your claims?¡±


    Sia pauses. ¡°Proof, you mean?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, proof. Evidence.¡± A pause, then. ¡°How about you let us get a look at that device of yours.¡±


    You can¡¯t do that. Dernel is panicking now.


    I¡¯m not an idiot! I know that. Sia almost scoffs at the panicked Underling.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that.¡± Sia is reluctant to say it. If they decide to search her, a hand through her hair would easily reveal something fishy. ¡°But I can prove it. You¡¯ve seen me heal.¡± But Savages can heal just as well, she would need something extraordinary to prove the device was superior technology, something no one else has their hands on. ¡°Ask me something I shouldn¡¯t know about you that¡¯s on your public records, or I can...¡± Sia bounces with excitement at an idea and gestures with her head toward the outside. ¡°I know! Place someone or something outside. Far away...far enough you know that I couldn¡¯t possibly know what they¡¯re doing. Not in a million years, with no radio or phone. Ask me what I see. I¡¯ll tell you exactly what they do. I¡¯ll prove it to you!¡±


    ¨^¨[¨X¨j¨m¨[¨m¨a¨^¨[¨X¨j¨m¨[¨m¨a¨^¨[¨X¨j¨m¨[¨m¨a¨^¨[¨X¨j¨m¨[¨m¨a¨^¨[¨X¨j¨m


    While they set up the test, a middle-aged man stirs on a thin cot. His mop of rust colored hair moves against the cloth filled pillow. He struggles out of the comforting grasp of the medicated rest the doctor has kept him under. His eyelids are heavy and he can only open them a tiny bit before the light from outside irritates him. The medwing entrance is open, letting in the bright glow of the afternoon sun¡¯s rays into the dim room. A sheet is propped up over the glass door, making it impossible for it to do its job of blocking the light.


    The clink of glassware and the sliding of wooden drawers draws his attention from the doorway to the shelves and desks along the side wall. A tall, dark skinned man is rushing around picking up items and shoving them into a brown satchel.


    ¡°Nar¡­Nard.¡± It tastes like cotton covered in muck was shoved into his mouth as he slept. He coughs to clear up some space for air and speech, but it makes him feel even worse. ¡°Wha¡ª¡± He struggles to say anymore.


    Nard opens and shuts another drawer after pulling out an unnecessary amount of gauze bandage rolls. He slams the drawer closed and his eyes frantically search the labels of the containers on the shelf for a recognizable name. His frantic movements jerk to a stop when he hears one of the patients cough. It¡¯s a deep cough with a slight wheeze when they try to breathe in.  He whirls around, closes the satchel, then crosses the room.


    A quick flick of his eyes shows him the child in the other bed is still unconscious. When he reaches his comrade¡¯s bedside, he sets down the bag and places a hand on the man¡¯s shoulder. He puts a knee on the cot and tries to sit the man up. ¡°Turner, aaiy calm down. It¡¯s alright.¡±


    Turner throws out a hand to grasp the other man¡¯s forearm and stops him from moving him, an electric shock jolts up his leg. Tears leak out his eyes as he wrestles with his next breath. ¡°I¡ª¡± His breathing calms down and the coughing stutters to nothing. ¡°I¡¯m...I¡¯m okay,¡± Nard frowns in sympathy at the hoarse voice. ¡°Wat...water.¡±


    Nard stands fully, casts a look around the room, and spots the pot on a side table between the two occupied cots. There are three short cups beside the metal pot and a rag is hanging off of it. Nard grabs a cup, checks the bottom for any contents, sees nothing alarming, but just to be sure¡ª he blows into it. The cup is dipped into the pot of lukewarm water then he hurries to the other side of the bed.


    Turner hums a thanks and loosely grips Nard¡¯s wrist while he holds it against his cracked lips. There is a moment of satisfaction between the two. One satisfied that the other is alive and the other satisfied that the condition of their throat has improved substantially. Turner¡¯s ear twitches at the loud slamming of car doors outside the small medwing. He finishes drinking from the cup and fully opens his eyes.


    Nard pulls away when he sees Turner has finished drinking. The cup is placed next to the flattened pillow, he taps it to slip it underneath and keep it from sliding off the cot.


    Turner¡¯s forehead creases and he lifts a brow before raising a hand to gesture at the doorway. ¡°What¡¯s...up?¡± His jovial personality is weighed down by a slate of disorientation usually coupled with medical accidents, but is tripled by waking up in the middle of a turbulent situation. ¡°Are we under attack?¡±


    Nard bends down to pick up the brown satchel that is stuffed with supplies. He shakes his head and looks over his shoulder. ¡°Nothing that bad, we¡¯re just about to go on an outing. Big news. We found a little wasteman with a lot of loot while you been napping. It¡¯s fishy, so Ika wants us prepared. You good?¡±


    Turner looks warily at the blanket covering his lower extremities and squeezes a hand into a fist. Nard frowns and knocks his knee into the cot¡¯s metal frame. It creaks and Turner is shook out of his inner thoughts. ¡°You good, man?¡±


    Turner¡¯s smile is thin and shaky. ¡°I¡¯m good. Go on, I don¡¯t want to keep you.¡±


    Nard doesn¡¯t go right away. He adjusts the shoulder strap of the bag and watches Turner, then glances out at the people running around doing tasks. He swivels his eyes from the doorway to his injured pal and back again, then sighs.


    Turner rolls his eyes. ¡°Go on, I¡¯ll go back to sleep. I¡¯m exhausted.¡± Turner lays back against the flat pillow. He closes his eyes and pretends to get comfortable for a moment, wincing at the pain the movement brings him. He forces out a weak yawn and waits.


    Nard stands at his bedside for several long seconds and Turner almost thinks the man will stay before he takes a few loud steps toward the door. There is a rustle of fabric before the squeaking of the glass doors signals the man¡¯s full retreat outside. Turner releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes. Nard has let down the shade cloth to block the sunlight and closed the doors.


    Turner sits up a bit, moaning as he shifts and looks around the room for any signs. Signs that Priya has visited him, something...maybe a note. The corner of his mouth quirks up as he thinks of what she might write on a tiny slip of paper. After a short search, and no note in sight, he drops back against the pillow and knocks the cup to the ground. The clatter is loud and irritating, and he whispers a little ¡°Sorry¡± to the small boy in the bed beside his.


    He grips the side of the cot and leans down to grab the cup...but it¡¯s out of reach. He grasps for it one more time ignoring the cot¡¯s groans, but his legs move a bit too far to the right and force him to still. He backpedals with his hand on the ground, pushes up on the side of the mattress, and lies back, breathing out a sigh of relief that he didn''t fall over. A layer of sweat trails down the back of his neck and forehead, another thing to complain about to Priya when she finally gets her beautiful ass up to visit him. If she ever does.


    He chuckles. He looks at the dark featureless ceiling and chuckles. A car door slams and several vehicles ride out. The chuckle dies out and he¡¯s left with silence.


    I¡¯ve really screwed up this time.


    He would have asked Nard about Priya, but he already knew what the conversation would be. Him, the pitiful invalid, reaching for his friend¡¯s arm, asking about the woman that owns his heart and Nard shuffling by the bedside, close mouthed. ¡°Women, man, just give her time.¡± Nard would reply.


    It would result in the same sulking later, but maybe...maybe she wasn¡¯t here. Maybe she¡¯s just busy. She went on an outing, she didn¡¯t know he woke up, she still cares.


    Turner can barely look down at his leg, can¡¯t bear to look beneath the blankets and see what that spider has done to him. He knows it¡¯s bad. He¡¯s probably been hopped on more drugs than would usually be allowed in the world before...and he knows it¡¯s bad. And now he might lose his only chance with the most wonderful woman. Someone you wouldn¡¯t even dare to dream about before.


    It wouldn¡¯t be smart to take on a liability like him. He¡¯s seen how people view his boss¡¯s brother, Dennis. Dennis, the one who started this whole settlement, who¡¯d never ask anything of anyone that he wouldn¡¯t sacrifice himself. Who is stuck with sending his younger brother out into the world, without him to watch his back, since the accident. Except he isn¡¯t in higher management like Dennis, he doesn¡¯t have any skills outside of his training. He¡¯s a dud. That¡¯s all he¡¯d be, a weak invalid with no place. Useless.


    He¡¯d seen that woman fight with the best and worst and come out with no more than a split lip and a slight limp. ¡°And here I am,¡± He grumbles.


    He stares up at the ceiling as tears leak out the corner of his eyes and places his forearm over his face to shield it from view. His lips are a tight line trying to hold all sounds at bay. A wet sniffle escapes him before he rubs his forearm over his eyes and grunts.


    Is it selfish to want a chance even now? He chuckles darkly. Before, this was awful shit, but people got through it. Families got closer. It showed how loyal your woman truly was, how loving. But now, big guy...if she tosses you aside that¡¯s good on her. Common sense. His breath hiccups, his chest feels tight. But I¡¯d do it all again...I wouldn¡¯t stop protecting my people for some dumb leg. He struggles to take a deep breath after admitting that fact. The fact that his leg is forever altered. Gone.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready to survive, but that only works if we¡¯re together.¡± He mutters that under his breath, words he remembers Dennis uttering in the old days when W.A.R.T.S was a couple of survivors and a broken-down truck. He grasps the sheet with a trembling hand and squeezes his eyes shut. ¡°That only works if we work together.¡±


    Priya, please don¡¯t... He blinks at the ceiling, tears spilling from his flooded eyes. Please. give me a chance.