The Half-Life Empire 3 [Chapters 11-15]

Hey peeps!

More of The Half-Life Empire 3 (about to the 1/3 mark, really). I figured I would put it here for peeps to enjoy (either because you read the sequel when it was here, or because the sequel is about to release, and now you can continue the story if you wish!)

Shami

Chapter 11

Quern drove the jeep for several hours.

The evening winds washed over us, never allowing me to get warm. I shivered the whole time, my teeth clattering. My stomach churned and knotted, and I hated the way the vehicle treated every crack like it were a canyon. This jeep’s suspension was shot.

For some reason, the gunshot wound on my arm wasn’t healing as quickly. The pain lingered, and whenever the jeep flew around too much, my shoulder throbbed in agony.

Quern glanced over from time to time, and eventually slowed the vehicle. Without so many bumps, I managed to breathe a little easier. I kept myself balled in the passenger seat, my eyes closed, but my mind working overtime. My thoughts lingered on Sanctuary. I had told Chelsy we would explore. I had guaranteed Vega I would protect them from the Vay.

Then the jeep came to a stop.

I opened my eyes, but it was still dark. Everything outside of vehicle was just… darkness.

The headlights shone on a building, though. Quern stared at this new location, his eyes narrowing.

It was an eerie relic of the world before the Forever Winter.

A gas station.

They were used to fuel up vehicles that required liquid fuel and combustion engines. Those vehicles didn’t work anymore. The only cars and vans we had access to were the ones that used A-tech engines that ran off batteries.

Abandoned pumps dotted the outside of the building, their hoses sprawled on the cracked concrete. A faded sign, creaking in the evening wind, read: WELCOME TO MONTANA. There were some other words, and a number, but those were all too faded to read properly.

“What’re we doing here?” I whispered. “This is long way from the military base.”

Quern shot me a glower. “We’re going to take a rest.”

I supposed even the Iron-Blooded needed a break from time to time. With a sigh, I glanced over my shoulder. Where was Bishop and Gascoigne? Brecht and Vega? Anyone?

This gas station was still on the road, so my hopes remained high. Perhaps, if we slept here long enough, the others would catch up.

“Resting is a good idea.” I turned so he could see my blood-soaked shirt and injury. “I think I might need to do something about this.”

Quern, armed with his stolen shotgun and 9mm, slid out of the driver’s seat. He walked around the vehicle and motioned for me to come with him. After a deep breath, I complied. Then Quern led me toward the gas station, one hand on my uninjured arm and one hand carrying his shotgun.

The top of the barrel had a little flashlight. Quern flipped it on and used the weapon as our guide.

The windows of the gas station, frosted with dust, offered a glimpse into a bizarre museum of Montana souvenirs. There were shelves and shelves of snow globes containing scenes of the rugged Montana landscape, postcards depicting majestic mountains and sprawling plains, and adorable figurines of bears and moose, both staring blankly into the void.

The gas station had no front door. It had either been destroyed, or this building never had one.

Quern led me in, flashing his shotgun light at every corner, as though to make sure we were alone. His eyes scanned the shelves, though his gaze lingered on nothing. Then he let me go and headed for the rusted cash register.

While my creepy companion searched for… something… I turned my attention to the bears and moose. I loved figurines. I had once made dozens on my free time. And Chelsy still appreciated them.

I slowly crept over to the shelf, and with my good hand, I picked up both a baby bear, and the little moose. Chelsy would enjoy them, so I stuffed them into my pockets. They rattled against the atomic batteries.

Quern banged around behind the register for a moment. Then he leapt over the counter and made it back to my side. He used the shotgun light to illuminate my injury. With a sneer of disgust, he led me out of the decrepit gas station.

“Nanites don’t work as efficiently when you’re cold,” he said, anger in his tone.

“Why is that?” I asked.

But before Quern could answer, I had already concocted a theory. The tiny machines traveled through the bloodstream, and when a human body was cold, the smallest blood vessels—the capillaries—constricted and closed. That would make it difficult for the nanites to stitch up injures and heal muscles.

“Just… trust me,” was all Quern managed to say. “We should treat the injury, and then you should remain warm for a bit.”

“We’re going to treat my injury?” I stared up at him. The outside of the gas station was creepy, and I hated not being able to see beyond the shadows. “Why? I thought you were just dragging me back to the other Iron-Blooded. To Commander Dannick or Architect Riven.”

I really didn’t understand Quern’s plans. Probably because he wasn’t talking about them.

Quern shook his head and frowned. He yanked me toward the jeep. “Don’t you remember when I was injured? When you had me captive on the train?”

That had been a while ago—back when we first took Quern hostage. And when we had cut off his thumb.

“I remember,” I whispered.

“You took the time to use your first aid on me.” Quern met my gaze. “Even when your companions were calling for my death. So, think of this as just returning the favor.”

“What’re you going to do after that? Are you going to… torture me?”

Quern darkly chuckled. “Do you want me to torture you?”

I didn’t dignify that with a response. Of course I didn’t.

He smirked as he said, “You should be really thankful I don’t need any of your fingers to accomplish my goals.” He jerked me close. “Because I wouldreturn that favor if it were necessary.” After another chuckle, he said, “But for right now, I’m just going to make sure you don’t die. I need you.”

Needed me?

I already knew he wouldn’t elaborate, so I stopped my line of questioning. Still, it made me feel a little better about the situation knowing he wasn’t going to torture me or mutilate my hands. This just gave me more time and opportunities to think a way out of this.

Quern flashed his light around the area.

The air was heavy with an unnerving silence.

I shivered. Quern held me against his body. Then he shone his light over another building—a small restroom that was attached to the gas station. The restroom was made mostly out of cinderblocks, but the tiny signs for MEN and WOMEN were still nailed in place, letting me know what this was.

Quern walked over the jeep, grabbed one of the backpacks, and then hauled me over to the restroom. He entered through the MEN door, and I almost made a joke, but I held back. My shoulder was hurting too much for me to laugh.

We stepped into one of the cramped spaces I had ever been in my life.

The tiles were cracked, and stained with God only knew what—especially near the only toilet. A small, makeshift bed lied next to it, cobbled together from old blankets and rags. A plastic ten-liter bottle was upside down and wedged into a hole in the roof, complete with a stopper. The large bottle was cut in half so that rain water could collect in it, and a grate had been strapped over it, to keep solid objects or creatures from getting in.

Once the stopper was removed, the water would pour down onto the tiles in the corner of the bathroom closest to the drain.

Someone had once made their home here.

“Cozy,” I quipped.

Quern glanced over. Did he find that funny? I didn’t know—he had an unreadable expression.

The place wasn’t livable, though, obviously. This whole bathroom was cold, barren, and lifeless. No one had been here in ages. The dust and mud were here to attest to that fact.

Quern shoved me toward the “shower” in the corner of the restroom. “Undress. We’ll use the rain water to wash you off.”

He didn’t leave. He just waited.

When I didn’t immediately comply with his demand, Quern stepped forward, like he was ready to just do it himself. I backed away.

“I never treated you like an animal,” I said in low tone.

That stopped Quern in tracks. He narrowed his eyes at me, practically glaring. They were light-colored and icy, like our surroundings. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then Quern stepped toward the door.

He yanked the flashlight off the end of his shotgun, and placed it on the floor so that it shone into the corner of the restroom.

“There’s nowhere to run,” Quern said. “Wash up. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

He stepped through the door, leaving it open a slight crack, and then waited.

I let out a long exhale. While this wasn’t “nice,” it was better than nothing. I appreciated that Quern wasn’t a heartless lunatic, but I knew if I gave him too much grief, he’d probably just shoot me and get this over with.

Instead of complaining, I walked into the corner of the grimy restroom. I stood over the drain, shivering. After I collected my thoughts, I pulled off my clothing and set them down in the cracked sink that was still clinging to the cinderblock wall.

It was so cold.

My teeth clattered loud enough to fill the whole restroom.

Then I reached up and uncorked the plastic bottle. I shouted when the frigid water splashed over me.

“Are you alright?” Quern hissed in Tethlite.

“Y-Y-Yes,” I managed to say, my body practically quaking with shivers.

I stood under the flow of ice water, making sure to clean my injury, until all the water was gone. With blue lips, colorless fingers, and skin completely covered in goosebumps, I turned for my clothes.

“Q-Quern,” I whispered, my voice practically frozen. “I need a t-t-towel. Something to d-dry off with.”

I held myself tight, my injury no longer hurting. All I felt was the sting of a chilly night.

The door opened slightly, and Quern held up a large towel. He didn’t step into the restroom, not even when I made my way over and took the cloth.

“Th-Thank you.”

He said nothing.

Then I dried myself, my hands numb. Once I was certain the water was gone, I pulled my pants back on, checked the batteries and figurines, and then reached for my shirt.

It was so bloody, it felt silly to wear it again.

“I need a new shirt,” I said, louder than before.

“We should tend to your injury first.”

I crossed both my arms over my chest and then turned so my back was to the door. “All right. Do you have anything?”

The door opened, and Quern stepped inside. He picked up the flashlight and shone it onto my bare shoulder. I shivered, both from the chill and his gaze. I tried not to think about how vulnerable I was, or how much I wanted to put a shirt on at that moment.

Quern set his backpack on the ground and removed things from inside. I glanced over and saw he had some rubbing alcohol and bandages.

He was really going to dress the wound.

I turned away before he could spot me watching him. When he touched my shoulder, I loosened enough for him to gently pat the bullet wound. It had closed somewhat, from the nanites who were overachievers, but it will still bad.

And it stung when he dabbed the wound with alcohol. I sucked in air through my teeth and just gritted through it all, though. The pain didn’t last long. Quern quickly wrapped my shoulder with a bandage, careful to go under my arm, but only at me pace. His hands were rough, yet somehow gentle.

They were also warm. So delightfully warm.

I almost sad when he finished.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my breath visible.

Again, he said nothing.

“I need a shirt.” I eyed the bloody rag in the sink and knew I wasn’t putting that back on.

Quern reached into his pack and withdrew a denim shirt, just like all the members of the prison gang had worn, and I took it with a frown. No bra, either, but I didn’t blame Quern for that. It was surprisingly difficult to find women’s clothing that fit while out and about on the wasteland.

Instead, I went back to my bloody clothing, and attempted to clean my bra as much as possible before donning it once again.

Quern left me alone in the restroom, and while he wasn’t looking, I intentionally placed my blood-soaked shirt on the faucet of the sink. Then I placed a moose figurine on top. If Bishop and Gascoigne came here looking for me, they would understand what this meant.

I didn’t know how to leave a clearer, message, though. I didn’t have any to write with, and if I took too long, Quern would surely come in and see what I had done.

So I hoped this was enough.

Then I slid on my denim shirt, no warmer now than I was before. Ice practically coursed through my veins.

“I’m all done,” I said, my voice shaky from the chill.

“Good.” Quern opened the door and flashed his light to guide me over. “Now let’s leave this place. We’ll make camp up the road, and you can stay warm to recover.”

Chapter 12

We drove for a short distance on the road, and then Quern turned off.

I hated that, but maybe the jeep would leave tracks in the mud, and the others would be able to follow us. Again, I hoped.

When we came to a step in a grove between the trees, Quern killed the engine, hopped out, and immediately set up a tarp on the ground, and then overhead, creating a simple tent secured between tree trunks. He was fast, and efficient, like he had trained for this moment his whole life and was looking to get a gold medal.

Then he grabbed a pack, pulled out some hardtack, and passed me a few bits of the crumbling bread.

“Eat this,” he commanded.

Then Quern took a bite and grimaced. After a long exhale, he forced himself to swallow a whole mouthful more. After, he returned to setting up a simple sleeping location.

I nibbled on the hardtack, not particularly hungry, but I knew I needed the sustenance. The nanites in my system would only heal me so much—and they used reserves found in adipose tissue—fat tissue—to create the cells required for body restoration. I didn’t have much fat reserve, so calories would have to do.

As Quern worked, I would’ve recommended we stay in the jeep, but it was stuffed with things he had clearly pilfered from the prison gang. It would take Quern longer to unpack everything, then repack everything once we woke up, than to set up a camp spot.

Part of me wondered if someone would come along and kill us for our vehicle, though. It was always risky business sleeping out in the wilderness.

Too risky for comfort.

“Shouldn’t we find a safer place?” I whispered.

“We won’t stay here long.” Quern finished and then stood back to admire his work. “Four hours. Max.”

A perfect sleep cycle. The Iron-Blooded really did train their men to handle the wasteland like it would forever be there home.

“I only have six shotgun rounds left,” Quern said aloud. “But plenty of ammo with the smaller gun. Should we be approached by anyone, I’ll handle it.”

That wasn’t the best arsenal I’d ever seen, but it was something.

Quern grabbed a blanket from the back of the jeep and then took me by my uninjured arm. I flinched, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he dragged me over to the tent and practically shoved me inside.

“Stop wasting time,” he growled.

I crawled into the tent. There was nothing here other than the tarp across the lumpy ground. Quern got into the tent, secured the tarp flap shut, and switched off the flashlight. With all the haste and gruffness of a child wrapping themselves up with their favorite teddy bear, Quern grabbed me and then burrito-ed us together in the one blanket. My back was pressed up against his chest as he rested down on the floor of the tent.

I felt his heart beating, we were pressed up so tightly. He was warm. This could work—if it weren’t so nerve-wracking.

The batteries in my pants pocket dug into my legs. I tried to move, which caused Quern curse under his breath.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he hissed in Tethlite.

“I have things,” I said, irritated.

He reached into my pants pockets and withdrew the two batteries and bear figurine. It was pitch black in the tent, but I heard him fumble with the objects, clearly trying to visualize them through touch alone. Teth did it all the time, and I suspected the Iron-Blooded were rather adept at the skill, since they learned most everything from the Teth themselves.

Sure enough, without turning on the light, Quern said, “You took one of those toy bears from the abandoned storefront?”

“Yes.”

“And these batteries?”

“From the prison. Because I wanted them.”

Quern ground his teeth loud enough to fill the tent. He shoved the items off to the side, then patted me down, checking for anything else. I tensed, but said nothing, even as he slid a hand over my inner thigh.

“Relax,” he said through gritted teeth. “If I was going to do anything to you, I would’ve done it already.”

“Yeah, really putting me at ease,” I sarcastically muttered.

“I’ve seen you fight—I know what you’re capable of. I don’t need to baby you.” Once he was done with his inspection, Quern tightly wrapped the blanket a second time and lied down. “Now stop moving and sleep. I’m not going to slow our trek down if you get tired.”

He pulled me close, and his heat enveloping me.

Quern closed his eyes like this were just part of any other mission. The blanket was so thoroughly wrapped around us that it would be impossible for me to just pull it off and flee. Wiggling slightly would wake Quern in an instant. He was the type of soldier who slept and woke at the drop of a hat.

At least I was warm now. I closed my eyes, and took even breaths, the tarp smelling of plastic.

***

I had been exhausted.

The moment I had closed my eyes, I had fallen asleep. Now, I only awoke because I heard something outside of the tent. I opened my eyes, but the sleep crust made that difficult. I rubbed my face, wiping away the sweat and fatigue. All that greeted me was a wall of solid blackness. I saw nothing.

The noises from outside sounded like something scraping across the pine needles that lined the floor of the forest.

I tried to turn, but Quern wrapped his arm around my midsection and held me in place.

He was awake, and just as tense as I was.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered, his teeth close to my ear.

I swallowed hard and tried to remember where we were. In the middle of the woods? Away from the road? Maybe this was Bishop. Maybe he and the others had finally found me. I hoped. I hoped with everything I had.

But when I heard a loud huff and I knew that wasn’t the case.

It was an animal. Something with four legs. Something large. Something sniffing through the fallen pine needles.

It was shifting its way closer to us, its footfalls heavier than I would’ve liked—its breathing loud and its breaths harsh. This wasn’t a fox or boar. Its breathing was far too loud for that.

“It’s a bear,” I said under my breath, my mind filling in all the blanks.

Quern cursed in Tethlite. “Why do I run into literally every problem imaginable?” he said, clearly speaking to himself rather than me.

He slowly released me, and then untucked the blanket from around our body. The creature outside—most definitely a bear—bumped into our jeep. The vehicle rocked on its rusty axles, and the monster huffed again.

Quern quietly searched around the tent. He grabbed the flashlight, and the 9mm, but I was certain he didn’t bring the shotgun into the tent with us. Where was it? The jeep? Or had Quern put it somewhere close, just out of my reach?

I sat up, and I marveled at how much better my shoulder felt.

The nanites had done their job. I was mostly healed—now I just needed to stay alive.

But the blood…

My blood. Still on bandages and my undergarments, and no doubt still carried an odor. My heart slammed against my ribcage as I realized the real problem here.

And as soon as I had that revelation, the snout of the creature poked into the tent near the bottom of the flap, sniffling and snorting so loud I didn’t need to see it to know exactly where and what it was.

“Oh, fuck me,” I whispered.

Quern grabbed my arm, pulled me back, and then opened fire with his 9mm. Crack, crack, crack—the rapid fire of the handgun was infinitely louder when it shattered the silence of the woods. The creature outside roared and reared up on hind legs, taking the roof of our tarp tent with it.

Quern switched on the flashlight, pointing it directly at our monster attacker.

It was bear.

I knew it. I goddamn knew it.

And not just any bear—it was some sort of freak mutant grizzly bear, a grotesque perversion of nature’s design. Its brown fur was a patchwork of matted clumps and bald, scarred patches, where the skin beneath was sickly and weeping pus.

Its face was a distorted canvas of aggression and pain, one eye blown out by Quern’s shots, and the other alight with rage. The monster’s jaws were oversized and lined with rows of jagged, mismatched fangs.

The thing stood at least nine feet tall while on two legs. It towered over us. The thing was larger than our jeep.

I found it difficult to breathe…

“Run!” Quern shouted.

The mutant grizzly slammed its claws forward, like it wanted to bury us in one powerful attack. Quern pushed me out of the way, and we tumbled backward, just out of the bear’s reach. We almost tripped and slammed into a pine tree, but Quern was fast. Despite having just woken up, the man was more alert than I was. He yanked me away from the tent and practically carried me around one of the nearest trees.

The bear roared, blood splattering from its head as it whipped around to get a better look at us.

The bear’s limbs, all four of them, were elongated and twisted. Its claws resembled rusty, serrated daggers, and it had a neck covered in thicker fur, as though it had some sort of mane.

And it moved like every gesture was torment. One moment it seemed sluggish, then it would whip its head around, its body limber, and also stiff, as though the creature itself was at odds with its mutated form.

Quern headed for the jeep, but that was a mistake.

The mutant bear lunged with frightening speed. It swiped at Quern, barely hitting him, but it was powerful enough to send the man into the trunk of a tree. The bear’s claws had dug furrows into Quern’s torso, and Quern stumbled to the ground, onto one knee.

I shouted, picked up a pine cone and then threw it. The small object struck the bear in the side of the bead. The monster turned its one monster eye on me.

I turned and leapt between a cluster of trees. The bear huffed and lunged. I thought the trees would stop its advance—but nope! I was wrong.

The fucking monster hit the trees so hard it practically shattered their trunks. The bear roared again as it tore its way through the woods, its claws slashing up branches and cutting away obstacles. I ran a little further, into the darkness, between trees that were growing closer and closer together, hoping to slow the bear’s pursuit.

Eventually, it became too dark for me to see. I held my arms out, trying to feel my way forward, but the bear wasn’t having as much difficulty. It knew exactly where I was, and the moment I slowed my pace, its hot breath was waving over my whole body.

It swiped, and one of its claws slashed the back of my left leg. I shouted, but kept upright and pushed forward. The trees did slow its pursuit, but not as much as I would’ve hoped.

Then I hit a tree, practically winding myself. I didn’t know where I was, and the darkness was so thick, a part of me wondered if this was just some sort of horrific nightmare.

The grizzly’s growl was guttural and close, the echo of its rage reverberating through the forsaken forest all around me.

Chapter 13

I turned around and frantically searched at my feet for anything to use as a weapon or a distraction. Perhaps I could wrap my bloodied bandages on a stick or—

The bang of a shotgun filled the forest. The bear screeched and then attempted to whirl around. The trees were its enemy, and the monster savaged everything it touched as it thrashed its claws, ripping and tearing nature itself.

How many bullets—and much buckshot—could this fucking monster take?

Quern’s flashlight shone through the trees, enough for me to scrabble around and pick up a tough branch. Quern shot again, and again, unloading as much as he could into the massive mutant bear. The monster lunged away from me—toward Quern—and I leapt into the trees in an attempt to put some distance between me and beast.

Quern shot a fourth time and blew most of the bear’s face clean from its skull, including one whole ear.

The bear swiped with its claw, but it was clearly distressed. It reared back, and then roared so loud the trees shook.

The bear patted at its missing face, its blood splattering across the forest floor, soaking into the icy dirt. I ran over to Quern, barely able to see our environment, but the tiny light he had was enough. I grabbed his arm, and motioned to the shattered trees—the path that would lead back to the jeep.

“We need to go,” I said.

Quern, bleeding from multiple claw marks across the chest, half smirked. “Get running. I’ll catch up.”

I didn’t argue with him because that would be insane. We had to go right now. I took off as fast as I could, sucking down icy air as I sprinted through the half-ruined forest. Occasionally the splintered tree trunks caught me, cutting my legs, even though my pants. I didn’t care. With single-minded focus I made it to our campsite, and then rushed over to the tarp.

I grabbed it, my batteries, and the bear figurine. I threw them in the back of the jeep, and secured them down with a rope that was left undone. Then I jumped into the passenger seat and secured my belt.

Quern still wasn’t back.

The angry grunts of the bear filled the woods around me. It snorted and huffed, its breathes wet, its shouts ferocious.

My heart beat so hard I almost couldn’t hear anything else. I glanced over at the driver’s seat. The jeep used an old-world key to turn on. I cursed my luck as I gripped the seat. If Quern wasn’t back soon, I’d grab a pack and—

But then Quern flew out of the darkness, leapt over the hood of our vehicle, and threw himself into the driver’s seat. He was soaked in blood and sap, as though he had massacred a whole crew of lumberjacks.

He threw his shotgun on the center console and didn’t bother buckling his seatbelt.

“Hold on,” Quern said, breathless.

Which I was already doing—wildly.

Quern got the jeep going just as the mutant bear emerged from the shadows.

With its one eye, the beast lunged for us. It had all the hatred of a monster with a grudge, and even though Quern managed to drive past it, the bear took a swipe at the back tire, practically knocking the jeep around with just a single tap of its massive claws.

The sky rumbled overhead.

The headlights only showed us ten feet ahead, maybe twenty if there weren’t many trees, and by sheer luck of the post-apocalyptic lottery, we managed not to slam into anything. Or maybe Quern was just that good a driver—I didn’t know.

The bear—that fucking bear—kept chasing us. We couldn’t get to full speed because of the terrain, but that mutant didn’t have the same problem. It roared as it chased us, running on all four elongated limbs, its exhales a ravenous sound made of pure hatred.

Quern, gripping the wheel with the determination of a man who was determined not to die in the woods, kept his full attention on the woods, weaving when he could, threatening to roll our jeep if ever he went too hard to the left or right.

“Shoot it,” he commanded in Tethlite.

I grabbed the shotgun.

For half a second, I considered shooting Quern. It wouldn’t take much to kill him now. But once I glanced down at the shells still ready to go, I realized we only had two shots left. And if I killed the driver, this jeep would surely careen into a tree, and I would die either from the crash or the jaws of a bear, perhaps a combination of both.

So I unbelted my belt, turned around in my seat, used the headrest as a mount to steady my shots, and took aim. I only had the red taillights to help me, and they illuminated the mangled face of the grizzly like it was possessed by a demon.

I pulled the trigger.

The bang was loud, but my heart still sounded in my ear.

The buckshot splattered the bear on the side of the face that was already damaged. The skull was visible now, and that still didn’t stop the animal.

Quern hit a branch, or maybe a fallen tree, and most of the jeep lurched into the air. We landed with a bone-jarring thud, and I almost lost my grip on the shotgun. With my whole body shaking, and my soul ready to ditch my body, I took aim again.

I had been through worse.

A damn bear wasn’t going to end me now.

I fired again, this time striking the bear’s only good eye. It howled and fell back, clearly blinded. The jeep sped away at such a pace, that soon the monstrous animal was lost in the darkness of the woods.

Quern gulped down air as though he hadn’t been breathing for most of this mad-dash out of the forest.

With a nervous chuckle, I slid into the passenger side and re-buckled my belt.

Neither of us spoke. That was fine. I was busy running my hands over my body to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.

For several minutes, we drove in silence, until Quern found another road, this one made of packed dirt. He slowed his speed and took even breaths. Then he reached an unsteady hand for his chest, his nanites stitching together his wounds, but not fast enough to stop all the bleeding.

“We should probably stop somewhere,” I said. “Maybe there’s another ratty gas station with some rain water.”

He laughed once at that, and shot me a serious glance. “I’m not sure where we are anymore.”

I leaned over to get a better look at the dirt road. It was clean, and free of rocks and branches. Someone maintained this pathway—which meant it was probably in active use.

“If we follow this, I think we might find some people.”

Quern cursed under his breath. He kept one hand on his chest, holding his body together, and his other hand tightly gripping the steering wheel. “Fuck people.”

“They might have supplies.” I motioned to the back of the jeep. “We could trade some of this for better food. Or bandages and medicine. Probably some antibiotics.”

“Or they’ll see we’re both injured and tried to kill us.” Quern shook his head, his eyes narrowed in an icy glare. “Humans are always like that—trust me. We’re better not stopping. We should head to some place far from the fucking wilderness, and tend to any injuries on our own.”

I exhaled. For a moment, I almost didn’t argue, because Quern was more injured than I was. If anyone was going to suffer, it was going to be him. But after a few moments of quiet contemplation, I decided to make my case.

“That bear was probably irradiated,” I muttered. “And if we were exposed to even slight amounts of radiation—from the environment or that monster—the first thing to get compromised is your immune system. Then your hematopoietic system. Then your gastrointestinal tract.”

Quern didn’t reply to me. He didn’t nod his head—he didn’t even glance over. But he was quiet, and perhaps mulling over the information, so I continued.

“Even if you have nanites in your blood, you still run the risk of your most vital systems taking ah it. You should clean your injuries. That’s a must.”

He slowed the jeep as we turned with the road. The lights shone across dozens of pine trees. Not a soul was around, not even any nocturnal animals.

“Most people aren’t bad,” I said.

Quern snorted back a laugh. “They’re disgusting animals no better than that bear,” he said in Tethlite. “Once we reach the Davis Space Force Base, I’ll be able to get plenty of medical attention.”

“How much longer until we get there?”

He didn’t reply—because he didn’t know where we were.

“Are you really that afraid of humans?” I sarcastically asked.

Quern gritted his teeth. “You want to risk it that badly?” He had switched back to English, and I silently wondered why he kept flipping.

“I happen to like humans a lot more than I like the Teth.”

“Yeah, I bet you had fun with the prison gang. They were extremely trustworthy. Probably treated you with kindness and respect.”

His sardonic tone almost made me laugh. Quern had a mild point. Those weren’t the best people to interact with.

“Random raiders and thugs don’t keep roads maintained,” I said as I gestured to the well-packed dirt we were driving on. Even with terrible suspension, it was a smooth ride.

“You’d be surprised,” he whispered.

I didn’t say anything further. If he didn’t want to listen to reason, I couldn’t force him.

We traveled the dark trail through the woods until we finally reached the tree line. More rumbles overhead told me it would rain soon. Quern cursed under his breath, and I suspected this was the last straw. We needed to find shelter.

So he kept on the road.

We drove past a grassy field, and then a few fences. I didn’t see any people, but the signs of civilization were at least around us.

Then I spotted something in the distance. It looked like a wooden wall made of pine tree trunks. It was at least six feet tall, with the trunks sharpened at the top. The wall was obviously a fortification for a small town, just as Richfield once had a trash wall to keep out the “riffraff.”

“We should stop there,” I whispered.

“We don’t know who they are,” Quern growled.

“It’s fine. They’ll see we need help—and we can pay them for it.”

“They’ll turn on us.”

I gave him a sidelong glance. “The people of Sanctuary wouldn’t have attacked two individuals who needed help.”

I didn’t say this, but I also knew they wouldn’t have helped, either. Richfield had had been an isolationist city that turned people away all the time. And as an underground civilization, I suspected Sanctuary wasn’t about to let random people on the road in through the front doors, either.

But…

I did intend on bringing people in, and since I was the leader, I could make those decisions. Which meant not all of humanity was terrible.

Quern slowed the jeep as he approached the wooden wall. The highlights shone over the carved tree trunks. Holes were cut between some of the logs—so people could point guns and rifles through them.

No one came to greet us, though.

The rumble in the clouds overhead, and the wicked howl of the wind, told me a storm was likely on its way.

“Don’t alert these bumpkins to my allegiance—or to the fact you’re my prisoner,” Quern said, his tone low and threatening. “Because if you do, I’m just going to shoot my way out of the situation. Do I make myself clear?”

“I understand.” I glanced up at the sky. “But I think it’ll do us both good to wait out the storm.”

I didn’t think the people of this podunk town would save me. Once Bishop and Gascoigne arrived, I would be out of here. I just needed to make sure Quern was slowed down until then.

Chapter 14

Quern drove around the wooden barricade until we came to the front gate. The sky continued its low rumble, warning us that we didn’t have much time.

When we reached the gate, the headlights flashed over a single guard positioned by a door in the wall. The young man—maybe seventeen or eighteen?—practically gasped when he spotted our jeep. He held a long rifle, his hands shaking. With a few quick movements, he aimed his weapon at us, but kept the barrel low, pointing at the tires rather than our heads.

“H-Halt,” he shouted.

The boy wore jeans with holes on the knees, likely from wear and not as any fashion statement. His jacket was thick, and his chin marked with spots of stubble.

Quern brought the jeep to a stop. He glanced over at me, and then motioned to the young man. Did Quern expect me to speak for us? He really did hate humans, it seemed.

I stood from my seat and leaned half my body out the window. My legs were sore, not only from the running, but also the many small injuries. I held onto the door as I said, “Hello. My name is Kita Yamasaki. This is my friend, Quern, and we’re in need of a place to stay for the night.”

The young man slowly lowered his weapon until it practically slipping from his hands. “My name is Roger. Uh, Roger Black. This here is Eagle Nest. Our town. We don’t normally let people inside. Not unless we know them a bit first.”

The sky thundered, as if agitated by the conversation.

Then rain burst from the dark clouds. At first, it was a small trickle, but that only lasted seconds. A completely downpour erupted from the sky, drenching us all in a matter of moments.

Our jeep had no proper roof.

And Roger didn’t have a guard station.

As we stood there, everyone getting wet, I wasn’t sure what to follow up his statement with. Finally, in a moment of sarcastic frustration, I said, “My blood type is O negative, I’m afraid of the Vay, my favorite food is wheat noodles, and I hate getting wet. Do you know enough about me yet? Or should I keep going?”

Roger blinked back all the water on his face. With a shake of his head, he motioned us forward. “I’ll let you in.”

Then he disappeared through the door. A few moments later, a portion of the wall creaked open wide enough for the jeep to drive through. Quern, also soaking wet, drove our vehicle into Eagle Nest, his posture stiff and his grip on the steering wheel tighter than ever.

I didn’t blame him.

This place was… quiet. Even in the midst of a storm. No one came to greet us.

The whole city was a gigantic circle, with a single road down the middle. Houses and workshops were built on either side of the main street, with places to load and unload large objects, perhaps even livestock. At the end of the road, on the far opposite side of the town, were a few empty buildings.

Roger led us to one and pointed to a large garage door. He pulled it up, opening it like a large shutter. Quern drove inside.

I suspected these buildings were once meant for horses. As Quern drove in, my suspicions were confirmed—the floor was lined with hay, and there were horse-height windows all along one side of the stable. A few stalls for horses to sleep were built into two of the corners.

“You can stay here,” Roger said, his voice echoing throughout the mostly empty stable.

He flipped a light switch that was attached to a grab total of three bulbs. They flickered to life and brought a bit of illumination to the inside of our stable.

The metal walls and concrete floors were the opposite of welcoming, but they beat sleeping out in the rain. The only real downside was the odor. The horses who lived here must’ve died here as well.

“Once the rain dies down, my father will come to see you.”

Roger rubbed his arm as he backed away toward the garage door. I slid out of the passenger’s seat and held up a hand. “Wait. We’re injured. Do you have any bandages or medicine? We can trade. I have bullets. Or, uh, whatever is in this box.”

Not my most convincing pitch.

Roger shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then he sighed. “Uh. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you. Even just some water and alcohol would be great.”

He backed out of the empty stable and then pulled down the garage door.

Quern didn’t move. He sat in the driver’s seat, even after killing the engine. I glanced around, hoping to find something useful. There wasn’t anything here. It was just us and the jeep. The cacophony of rain battered the roof, and we were dry now, but there were no blankets, no chairs—nothing.

“I think we should just sleep sitting in the jeep,” I muttered.

It was warmer here than the forest. It could work this time around.

Quern didn’t answer.

Then the garage door opened again, but only a small amount. Roger ducked under, one arm full of minor medical supplies, including some small jars of what looked like moonshine.

“I got some things.” He shoved them toward me, never really getting too close.

I took them. “Thank you so much.”

“You said you had bullets?”

“Yeah.”

I set his supplies on the jeep and then rummaged through one of the packs that Quern had packed. Sure enough, 9mm clips were stuffed to the brim of one. I passed two over to Roger, hoping he would accept that. The man happily snatched them from my grasp.

With a nervous smile, he once again backed out under the garage door. No goodbye or commentary—he just slipped away into the rain and shut the door behind him.

“That was weird,” I muttered.

“They’re planning on killing us,” Quern said, deadpan.

I shook my head. “I doubt it. That’s a little bleak. He knows we have weapons—and the ammo to use them. Places like this don’t like to get bloody in the heart of their home.”

He turned to face me, his eyes narrowed in irritation. “You’re naïve—and I’m surprised you’ve lived this long.”

Although I wanted to counter his statement, I couldn’t in good conscious do that. For the longest time, I lived life as a recluse hermit. I did consider everyone and everything a threat. But loneliness ate at me. I think I suffered from all my time away from others.

Plus, I had things to live for now. I had nothing when I was alone. A whole city was waiting on me.

“I’m confident I know the vague direction this town is in relation to Sanctuary,” I said as I spread out the supplies Roger had given us. “Once I get back, I can have some people come here and deliver a message. We can help each other—maybe even absorb the citizens of Eagle Nest into our burgeoning civilization.”

Quern didn’t answer me.

He had simply lifted an eyebrow when I had said, once I get back.

But now that I could properly examine the supplies in the back of the jeep, I was making more mental notes. I unfolded our tarps, removed my batteries and bear figurine, and grabbed a pack. I dumped out the contents and made it “my pack.” Then I shoved in the batteries, some moonshine, the figurine, and some 9mm clips.

Quern had packed enough hardtack for thirty people. It seemed a shame to eat it, but it was better than nothing. I took some of that, too. Then I grabbed a few bottles of water, rounding out everything.

I’d want all this.

“What’re you doing?” Quern asked from the driver’s seat.

I sifted through Roger’s gifts once again. “I’m getting you bandages. One second.”

With as much haste as I could muster, I grabbed some bandages and alcohol and walked over to Quern. He was still holding his injuries. His face had paled, and I wondered if he had lost too much blood.

“Let me help,” I said, holding up the bandages.

Quern practically knocked them from my hand. He turned with an icy glare. In Tethlite, he hissed, “I don’t want their medicine. It’s probably poison. Fuck them.”

I flinched away from him, baffled he was this irrational. I tossed the supplies into the back of the jeep. The bottle of moonshine—which had been the size of my fist—shattered. I cringed and let out a long exhale. Probably shouldn’t have done that.

“Did humans harm you in some way?” I asked. “Or are you just really indoctrinated?”

“I was a slave in Ex Cathedra,” Quern said, lowering his voice into something threatening. He had given up on English completely. “For years I worked under the boot of a Judge. They hate the Teth—they killed so many in their wars, it was practically a genocide.”

I knew.

I had lived in Ex Cathedra.

They were powerful and single-minded. They wanted to unite humanity, rebuild a nation lost, but also purify it. The Judges and their power armor were making that a reality.

“I…” Quern took in a deep breath and visibly calmed. In a quieter voice, he continued, “I ran away. The Iron-Blooded took me in, but it wasn’t until I was housed with the Teth warriors that I understood. The Teth are better than us. They work as unit. As a hive. They protected me. I protected them.”

He was right. The Teth did live in a hierarchy. And they all knew their place from birth, which was convenient.

“How old were you when you joined them?” I asked.

Quern didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at me.

I cleared my throat and switched to Tethlite. “How old were you?”

“Ten.”

“So they raised you?” That was a little surprising. “You lived and worked with humans and Teth for most your life?”

When he glanced over, his expression was an aggressive neutral. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I want a civilization where we both live in harmony,” I stated, switching back to English. “Brecht and Vega did it. You did it. I know the Iron-Blooded teach that humanity is evil and murderous—”

“They are.”

“—but there’s a reason the Teth allied with us when they arrived. They liked humanity, and worked to combine our technologies. My grandfather thought it was an amazing idea, and I’m going to continue his legacy.”

Quern…

Stifled a laugh.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, sardonic in tone.

Why?

Well, I had been hoping to intrigue and convince him. Maybe—just maybe—he would change his mind and want to return to Sanctuary with me. If there were the case, we’d gain a new ally. And since Quern knew so much about the inner workings of the Iron-Blooded, and had grown up with Teth, he would be a great boon to our community.

Quern turned his gaze down to his left hand. The nub of a thumb was chilling. “Humans are the only ones I’ve regretted coming into contact with. No matter what story you spin, you’re not going to convince me.” With gritted teeth, he motioned to the back of the jeep with a jerk of his head. “There are bandages from the prison in the box. Use those.”

Perhaps out of guilt for what I had done to him, I sighed and went to the box. Sure enough, he had collected a lot of bandages. I pulled out half and brought them over. Quern carefully removed his shirt, sucking in air between his teeth, and then shoved me the claw marks.

They were… the opposite of okay.

Had the bear been badly irradiated? I hoped not—but the back of my leg still stung, so it was a real possibility.

With shaky hands, I wrapped the bandages around Quern’s chest. He never flinched or made any noise. He just allowed me to my work. I attempted to be gentle—again, out of a sense of guilt—and perhaps he felt it, because he stopped me halfway by grabbed my wrist.

“What’s with you?” he asked in English. “If you really want to build your perfect civilization, you’re going to kill everyone who threatens it.” Quern eyed the bandages, and then me again, now glaring. “You never should’ve let me live.”

“My grandfather once said that truly good ideas convince people.” I half chuckled. “He said, that was why people left their homeland to move to the United States during its infancy. Because the US was such a good idea—so much better than everything that had come before it.”

And sometimes, in my wildest imaginings…

I thought I could make something even better. And once people heard about it, they would want to be apart of it as well.

I pulled my wrist from his grip. “But words are cheap. I need to work hard. I need to make this work. If I want Teth and humans to get along, I have to make it a reality.”

Each word was spoken more for my benefit, not for Quern’s.

I wanted to convince myself to keep going.

“I’m not the only enemy,” Quern muttered. “There are already new nations collecting power. Ex Cathedra and U-Cali aren’t going to let your new little civilization grow.”

His words reflected one of my greatest fears.

How would I deal with them? Diplomacy? No. Not with Ex Cathedra. They would never listen. They already were powerful, and their military formidable.

“The Iron-Blooded ran into this problem before, and they basically were forced into hiding because of it.” Quern turned away from me, dismissive. “You’ll be the same way. No one will listen. You’ll have your tiny community, but once you die, your ideals and dreams will go with you.”

Damn.

He was so negative.

But I refused to give up. I had options.

Once finished with Quern’s bandages, I stepped away from the jeep. The man appeared more relaxed than before. Or maybe he was just tired. After a long sigh, he slid out of the jeep and went to the back. He gathered a tarp and then our only blanket.

With casual confidence, he laid the tarp on the ground. Then Quern gathered up some of the spare hay. He was obviously in pain, because he grimaced more than once, but that didn’t stop him from hauling it into two piles, each person-shaped.

Quern put the piles on the tarp, patted them until they were definitely humans shaped—and snuggled together—and then wrapped them tightly in the blanket, making sure to tuck around ever edge.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

Now we would never be able to use that blanket ever again.

“It’s time to sleep.” Quern motioned to the jeep. “Clean off the broken bottle, and let’s sleep between the packs. Out of the sight.”

“Oh.” I crossed my arms. “You think the people of Eagle Nest are going to kill us while we’re sleeping?”

He eyed me like I had asked him a ridiculous question. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t trust them? Should I say it slower? I can explain my reasons, but I can’t understand them for you.”

That caused me to snort back a laugh. He was snarky now?

“They’re not going to hurt us.”

“Let’s make a bet,” Quern said.

“Fine. I bet they won’t even come into this garage. They’ll wait for us to exit, and they’ll be perfectly nice.”

Quern shook his head and chortled. Then he pointed to the back of the jeep. “Let’s get some sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up with more sense.”

Chapter 15

We sat in the middle of the jeep. I slipped in and out of wakefulness, struggling with dreams. Once again, Quern practically slept on top of me, making sure I would just bolt in the middle of the night. His head was on my shoulder, and most of his weight on my side. He was clearly more fatigued than I was.

I had cleaned the moonshine, but now the jeep reeked of alcohol. It was better than eau-de-horse-poop, though.

A few hours into our rest, I blinked open my eyes, my vision solidifying. Quern had an arm wrapped around me. He also seemed calm—which was new.

But then I heard the squeak of the garage door.

Quern stiffened, obviously roused from his slumber by even the slightest of change in the environment. He glanced at me, and then tensed as the garage door was slowly, and quietly, shut. Someone was now inside the deserted stable.

I held my breath. The rain had passed—it no longer offered a comforting white noise of patters across the roof.

When I strained my ears to listen, I heard nothing else. Maybe nobody was inside the stable with us? Maybe someone just half opened the door and then decided not to?

Quern grabbed my shoulder, his fingers digging into my bicep. “They’re here,” he whispered.

That was when I heard it. Soft footfalls.

With tense movements, I glanced around the bags and peered over the edge of the jeep. It was risky, because someone might spot me, but I wanted to know what was going on. The three overworked lights in the stable offered enough illumination for me to see the blanket and tarp stuffed with hay not too far from our vehicle.

Quern reached for the waistband of his pants and pulled out his 9mm.

Then I spotted two individuals creep over to hay-stuffed blanket. I watched, with terrified realization, as both individuals lifted personal rifles and pointed them at the mounts behind the cloth.

They really were planning to kill us.

The two resulting shots echoed throughout the stable and sent a shiver down my spine. I almost couldn’t believe, but I also knew I didn’t have time to have a mental hangup over this. A lot of people out in the wasteland killed others to take their things. This wasn’t new.

I had just hoped this would be different.

Quern didn’t hesitate. He leapt from the jeep, landed with both feet and then fired on the two would-be murderers. Quern’s aim was so good, and his shooting so fast, that he caught both of them before they had a chance to whirl around. They stumbled forward, both with head injuries, and collapsed onto the hay-stuff blanket.

Their brains would forever stain that fabric as much as the horse manure.

Quern leapt up into the driver’s seat of the jeep. He glanced back at me with a glare. “Open the garage door, and then jump in.”

Awake as ever, I leapt out of the jeep and then went to the garage door. My heart beat furiously, and a piece of me promised to return to this place—wearing my exoskeleton power armor.

I would make them regret all their actions. Or at least convince them that listening to me was in their best interest if they didn’t want me to seek revenge.

Quern backed up, turned the jeep in a tight circle, and then faced the garage. He motioned with a jut of his chin, and I flew the door up.

Gunshots rang out. Everyone knew we had killed the two men—Quern’s 9mm was probably heard around the small town. I ducked and kept my arms above my head as Quern stomped on the gas. He quickly gained speed, but the old jeep wasn’t an acceleration demon. I managed to grab the passenger side door and yank my weight onto the vehicle as it darted onto the main street.

With the wind whipping through my short, black hair, I took a seat and buckled my belt.

Bullets tinked on the side of our jeep.

“Get them!” someone screamed.

“Don’t let them escape!”

There was a wall around Eagle Nest… When I glanced over at Quern, he didn’t meet my gaze. What were we going to do? It was a quick and easy ride all the way to the edge of town, where the gate was closed, just as I feared.

Quern didn’t let it dampen his spirits. He jerked the jeep to the side and tumbled out. He went straight for the gate lever, the vehicle idle. Since he had turned the jeep to the side, it acted as a minor barrier between him and the denizens of this murderous town.

I ducked on the passenger, making sure none of the lunatics had line of sight on me.

“What’re you doing?” I shouted. “It’ll take forever to open!”

“This is Plan B,” he snapped. He said that like he once had a Plan A, but I knew that was false.

Just as I feared, the gate opened via a small motor with a tiny gear set. That meant it click-click-clicked open as though it had nowhere to be and all the time in the world.

Quern leapt back into the jeep as a dozen men with rifles came rushing toward us. They were all on foot, and some of them were breathing hard. They opened fire, more bullets plinking into the side of the jeep. Some were clearly aiming for the tires, but they were terrible shots, especially while moving.

Even though the gate was only half open, Quern once again slammed on the gas. He sped straight for the tiny opening and crashed the jeep right through. The hood dented, and everything was jostled around. Some of our supplies sailing out of the back, and I swear one of the axles cracked.

But we got out.

The gate was blown open and we hit the dirt road outside of Eagle Nest. Fortunately, the jeep still functioned—we sped down the road, away from the town.

And no vehicles came chasing us. I suspected they stopped to gather their ill-gotten goods, since we had left nearly half our supplies behind.

***

“Howdy, folks. I’m your radio host, Weatherbean, here to give you all the local news for the Wastewoods.”

As Quern drove, I listened to the radio. It was different here, since most broadcasts could only reach about a hundred miles. That made it “fun” to discover people in different parts of the wasteland. Or, in this case, the wastewoods, as the radio host liked to call it.

“First up, we have more word from the east. It seems Ex Cathedra is moving along at a nice clip, making headway through the woods. Hopefully their tanks will run over the grave of my dead whore wife as they make their way here.”

I frowned, already missing the cringe-antics of DJ Slam back in the region around Sanctuary. This radio host was more… dour. And perhaps unhinged.

“The trains haven’t been runnin’ right for months now, and some folks believe it’s because of gang fightin’,” Weatherbean said, his voice tinged in static. Wherever he was, it was far from us, or perhaps his equipment was beat up. “Let them fight, I say! My new wife, Rita, hates those rail gangs. They took all her chems and left her locked in a shed for two days. That’s actually how we met.”

To my amusement, Quern dragged a hand down his face and groaned. Then he reached for the radio’s volume.

I blocked his hand. “No. I want to hear if there’s anything important.”

He shot me a sidelong glance, but he didn’t argue. I suspected he was still on the mend, and didn’t want to argue about the damn radio, but I didn’t know that for certain.

“If you’re having problems with raiders or gangs, remember that here in the Wastewoods we offer protection at Militia Stations. You’ll see their flags around, each a bright yellow and depicting a bobcat. They’ll provide you with food and shelter.”

I glanced over to Quern with a lifted eyebrow.

“It’s a trick,” he said, practically exhaling every word. “If we stop at one, they’ll kill us. Just like they tried at that godforsaken town.”

“Wastewood Militia gets it done!” Weatherbean shouted with a whoop.

Seemed ominous right after Quern made his statements…

With a sigh, I turned my attention to the landscape. The perpetual gloom with a chance of acid rain was the same weather I was always used to. It made me wish I had been successful in switching the weather satellites.

The majestic mountains in the distance sported a coat of white, but I turned my attention in the other direction, wondering when Ex Cathedra would be here.

The jeep hiccupped. I focused my attention on the hood as the engine coughed worse than a chain-smoking toad. Quern grumbled something and then shook his head. Given the way the jeep was reacting, I imagined it wouldn’t turn on again once we turned it off. This was the vehicle’s last trek.

“We’re almost to a point of safety,” Quern said, as if he was reassuring me.

“We’re getting farther and farther for everything I consider safe,” I muttered.

He didn’t respond to that.

That probably meant we were drawing closer to the Iron-Blooded, or at least their base of operations.

“In other news, I heard about a man who controls alien drones with his mind,” Weatherbean said. He slammed his hand on a table and a thump issued through the radio. “Now that’s a superpower. I wish I had that with my goats. Damn things keep runnin’ off, even though I treat them all like princesses, and got them all dresses. Ungrateful meat bags, I say.”

I sat forward in my seat, my heart pounding.

I knew who that was. I had fought him in Boulder—him and his drones. He was a “human architect” and an experiment created by Architect Riven to help control humans. And I almost killed them all when I escaped the Hoover Dam.

The human architect was still alive? And he was here? In the Wastewoods?

Quern turned me, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, fuck me,” I whispered. “Theon Sellers is here.”