RULE #23
You found a dead tourist and by some miracle, their energy weapon is intact and loaded! Don’t bother. There is too much radioactive dust in the Sectors and you’re left with a fancy flashlight.
~ The Scavenger’s Handbook
There was no mistake, this was all Cake. Grey was certain of it as he examined the dead bodies. His biggest issue was with how the corpses lay in a neat line. No signs of seeking cover, just standing out in the open while their assailants had the benefit of hiding behind an emergency blast door. There was also the issue that they looked identical. All six of them were men in their thirties with well-maintained gear and weapons. Grey could swear everything looked as good new.
He gave the only two other doors a worried look, before kneeling next to the nearest of the dead bodies. No matter how he looked it, these people were not normal. The one he was examining lacked any reaction to having been shot in the neck. There was no expression of fear, or anger, or surprise on the man’s face. Instead, there was nothing, a dull emotionless mask of acceptance. The idiot hadn’t even made an attempt to clutch at the wound like a normal person, and it wasn’t just this one, all the other corpses were the same. It was almost as if, the moment they were wounded, someone had put an end to their lives in an instant.
Then there was the gear they had on them. As Grey had noted, it looked new. However, that wasn’t it, it didn’t look new, because it was brand new. But that was impossible, despite how well someone maintained things, the residual radiation and toxins in the air would investable leave their mark. Not to mention that there were no signs of wear from any form of diligent maintenance. Even the gear on the Axion pretend-soldier had minor scratches and stains left from the lubricants and powders used to protect their equipment. It took the veteran Scavenger far longer than he was willing to admit to come to terms with this truth.
However, what bothered Grey the most, was just how identical each of the six corpses looked. Their height, features, weight, skin tone, and even blemishes were all the same. This just didn’t make any sense, at all. They looked human, although that said, he couldn’t rule out that perhaps they were some kind of mutants that no one had encountered until now. One look at the cleanliness of the facility around him, and at the all-green indicators on the watch on his wrist, was enough to rule out that theory. Grey couldn’t put his finger on it, but this all seemed very familiar to him and very disturbing.
There was another thing that was bothering the veteran, and that was why Cake hadn’t taken anything of value from the dead men? First Aid kits, ammunition, weapons and keys, were of immense value to a Scavenger and the girl should know that. So, why was it that she had moved on without ransacking the corpses? And more importantly, why had she killed them?
“Mr Grey?” The shaking voice of one of the tourists made him divert his attention back to the blast door.
The young man looked confused and a little sick at the sight that greeted him. It was a surprise that he had ventured after the experienced scavenger, and Grey’s impression of the youth rose slightly. It dropped back to nothing once he saw that the pretend-soldier’s weapon was secured to his back This made the tourist nothing more than a walking backpack which Grey had to protect. A thrice-damned liability. Even the small children back at Véi Dron knew that when you enter an unknown place, you always keep a weapon at the ready, even if it’s just a useless piece of concrete.
Grey resisted the urge to shoot the kid to prove his point as he spoke in a low voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You told Theo and me to follow you… sir?”
“I’m asking about your weapon, soldier,” he bared imitating how Ash used to give orders to the soldiers back at Val Roux.
“Exploitation Manuel, sir!” The youth reacted immediately by coming to attention and fixing his eyes on the wall behind the scavenger. “Section 4, Safety Regulation, paragraph 6, subsection B. The Walter-Glock High-Thermal LASER carbine must be deactivated and holstered when traversing an area saturated with airborne particles or other contaminants which could interfere in a catastrophic way with the weapon’s beam, sir. The tunnel I passed through was polluted with dust and gas particles which exceed twenty times the maximum allowed safety levels for usage of the weapon, sir.”
The Axion brat finished with the hint of a smile, expecting to be congratulated for remembering what should’ve been common sense in greater detail than was useful. A second later, the pretend-soldier stopped himself from saluting, most likely remembering who he was speaking to. That, however, revealed quite a great deal to Grey and not only on how the tourists viewed the world surrounding them. But most important of all, it showed that although they had all this apparent knowledge on how to behave like soldiers, they understood an insignificant portion of it. Not that Grey himself could be considered any paragon of what a soldier was supposed to be, half the time he was certain that he was misremembering what little remained of his memories of his parents. And for everything else, the experienced scavenger was applying what he thought was common sense.
But isn’t that the problem, he pondered as he tried to calm the anger budding in his heart. Their common sense is not mine and vice versa. Still, it didn’t make Grey’s advice and orders any less relevant. Especially out here in the ruins.
“You can think on your own, right?” Grey asked, trying to change his approach, hoping that perhaps, the bloody brats would actually hear what he had to say and take it to heart.
“Um… Yes?” He could see the gears turning behind the young man’s eyes, the boy’s face twisting in confusion as the words slowly escaped his lips. Not a promising start.
“The mega-city will be the death of you and your comrades. It’s not too late to turn back. Go to Axion. Enjoy your youth and learn from your mistakes, while you still have a chance,” Grey stood up and made a show of checking if his revolver was loaded.
“You’re not going to listen,” the scavenger shook his head, “I can see it in your eyes. The masters of your floating city really know how to brainwash people, I got to give 'em that.”
He pointed at the bodies with the barrel of his handgun. “Ammunition, medicine, food, water. Move those outside. If you find a key – keep it on you until I get back. Don’t bother with personal affects, gear or anything else.”
“Did you kill them, Mr Grey?” The youth asked, his nervousness returning as he finally reached for the gun secured to his back. But there was also something else in his tone. Was it admiration?
“Actually,” Grey holstered his revolver and knelt back next to the bodies, “watch the door for a minute.”
Systematically, he took each of the weapons from their dead hands, removed the clip and ejected the bullet in the chamber. The middle-aged man had foolishly thought that perhaps he could equip some of the tourists with proper guns, but after hearing the idiot’s question, he realised how disastrous this could be. Just in case, Grey engaged the safety for each gun, before laying it on the cold metallic floor. He was sure that the pretend-soldiers would find it difficult to load the firearms but sure wasn’t good enough. Grey was about to call to the boy, who had moved closer to one of the doors, weapon in hands but nowhere near ready enough to be used. Either the kid was a lost cause or he was too confident in his reaction speed. When he saw a rectangular plastic card hanging on a cord from the chest of one of the dead men.
Very carefully, Grey tore the item from its place and placed the card in one of the pockets of his jacket. This prompted him to inspect the other bodies, but there was no sign that any of them had an access card on them. He was tempted to take one of the rifles along with some spare magazines but thought better of it. The revolver was far more easy to use inside the bunker, or shelter, or whatever this place was supposed to be.
Satisfied that he had taken every precaution he could, Grey addressed the pretend-soldier, interrupting his inspection of the door at the far end of the room. “Get back here.”
“We should inform Sargant Mordrake, that there is a potential active cloning facility here.” The Axion brat said flatly as he reached Grey.
“What?” The scavenger moved back as if the bodies were plagued. This couldn’t be true. The kid was mistaken, he just had to be.
“I mean, look at them, Mr Grey. Those guys are all identical… Although, I suppose there’s a chance that they could be twins. But let’s be honest, what are the chances of that?” The smile and levity in the youth’s voice weren’t enough to stop the cold sweat running down the veteran’s spine.
“I… Are you ok, sir?” the Axion brat asked, seeing Grey’s reaction. “Don’t be worried. Clones are dangerous. They’re actually very sterile, in every meaning of the word. You’ll not get sick by standing next to them.”
It was clear that the brat was misunderstanding the situation, but Grey was in no mood to play the role of the ignorant savage.
“I know what clones are,” he managed to push the words between his clenched teeth.
“Then why are you scared of them?” The tourist asked, his face radiating confusion from behind the transparent front of his helmet. “Sure, cloning humans is one big moral minefield, but the technology is perfectly safe. If it wasn’t so draining on our generators, I’m sure we’d be using it on Axion as well, for more than just cloning the occasional small pet…”
“We must find them,” Grey mumbled to himself, ignoring whatever else the kid had to say. “Find them and bury this place.”
“I don’t think you understand, sir. This is a very valuable find…”
“It must be destroyed!” Grey roared, grabbing the teen by the front of his armour and pushing him to the ground. “Look at those things! They’re not some toy or a pet. They are dangerous abominations!”
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Just then, the door the kid was inspecting slid open with a barely audible hiss. On instinct, Grey hurled himself backswords, pulling out his gun and aiming it at the intruder. He would have fired as well if he didn’t recognise the stumbling Joshua.
“Master Sargent!” The Axion brat yelled and rushed towards the leader of the tourists. “What happened?”
Only after the words registered in his ears, did Grey notice that Joshua was covered in blood, holding limply Cake’s pistol. This was not a good sign, and it only made the knot in the experienced scavenger’s stomach tighten. He didn’t even dare think of what it could mean that pretend-soldier was alone, as he jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the Master Sargent.
“Where’s Cake?” Grey barked at the confused youth.
“Dead…” Joshua muttered as he looked at him and somehow stared into the space between them.
No, no, no! Impossible! Cake would never sacrifice herself for someone like this useless piece of shit. Without thinking, Grey grabbed the unsteady Joshua and slammed him against the clean wall.
“Speak, damn you!” A part of him knew that he was acting irrationally, and that was the only reason why the youth was still alive.
“She’s a monster…” Joshua looked at him pleadingly, as if that was supposed to placate Grey in some way. “They were just women and children… Dead! All of them…”
“I swear, if you don’t start making sense, I’ll hurt you, boy,” the veteran hissed, as he slammed the boy against the wall one more time.
“Let him go, Scav! Or I will shoot you!” He heard the other tourist yell behind him.
Gey knew that it was a mistake, but he couldn’t control himself. He turned around, still holding onto Joshua and as he did, the middle-aged man flung the Master Sargent at the armed youth. As the two boys collided and fell to the ground, Grey placed his boot on Joshua’s back and aimed his revolver at the other youth’s face. Escalating the conflict between himself and the Axion brats was the worst thing he could do, however, at the moment it was the only reasonable thing he could think of. At least until he could get a coherent sentence from Joshua. Depending on the Master Sargent’s words, this shelter would either become the tourists’ tomb or Grey would try to figure some way to bridge the rift that he had created between himself and the tourists.
“I’m not going to warn you again, kid.”
“She kept killing them!” Joshua cried and buried his face in his friend’s chest. “Even when they tried to surrender, she kept shooting and smiling! I tried to stop her!”
Grey pulled the hammer of his revolver as numbness washed over him. “What did you do?”
“I tried to reason with her…” Joshua managed to speak between sobs, while the eyes of the other youth grew wider as he finally realised where this conversation was heading. “I told her I would shoot if she didn’t stop. But.. But... But she laughed at me. Then, one of the kids… Oh, God!”
“What did you, Master Sargent?” It was the boy whose name Grey hadn’t bothered to remember who asked the question this time.
“I didn’t mean to shoot the kid, Mike! You have to trust me! I didn’t mean to, but he startled me, and I reacted without thinking,” Joshua shook with every word. “I didn’t mean to shoot him! Just wanted to startle him!”
At that, the Master Sargent finally broke. It was obvious that Grey wouldn’t be able to get anything else out of him. The little he had divulged was enough for the scavenger to piece together what most likely happened deeper in the bunker. So far, it looked like Cake was alive. But that didn’t make Grey relax. Because it also meant that the girl had lost control and was a step closer to becoming the monster Grey feared she was.
This also placed him in a very peculiar situation. For good or bad, his reputation with Axion’s brats was lower than Hell. Furthermore, if he returned to Véi Dron, it was more than likely that the floating city’s Enforcers would come looking for him. Going back was no longer an option. However, neither was running away deeper into the ruins. Axion had the power and influence to turn Véi Dron’s inhabitants’ lives into a true nightmare as some form of revenge.
Grey knew he should’ve trusted his gut and walked out of Leeroy’s bar. Instead, he had allowed temptation and greed to strangle his common sense. The rules he entrusted to Cake were there for a reason, a damn good reason soaked in the blood of all who had failed and died in the ruins. And here he was, breaking them like there was no tomorrow. No matter how he looked at it, this entire situation was all Grey’s own fault. And to make things more difficult, there was also Cake. Going after her wasn’t going to earn him any points with the tourists, as long as Joshua and the extra could share their story with the remaining brats. The alternative was not an option for Grey. He couldn’t leave Cake. She was his responsibility. Her mistakes were his failures.
That was the core of the issue regarding the girl. After all, she was a mutant and Grey was an experienced scavenger. He wasn’t some hormone-driven teen or an idiot from Axion he could recognise the drastic shift in his way of thinking after spending time with Cake out here in the ruins. If Grey ever needed a reason for what made the girl dangerous, this was it. He didn’t know how she did it, but as long as she was around, the middle-aged man acted as if he was a dotting father, feeling protective of the psychopath and justifying her actions. But spend some time in any safe zone, away from all the residual radiation and toxic air, and Grey’s way of thinking changed drastically.
Still, knowing about this, and acting against what every fibre in his body was telling him, were two different things. Cursing himself for a fool Grey stepped off of the sobbing Joshua and lowered his gun. It wasn’t enough to erase the fear and resentment from the extra’s eyes, but it was as good as a peace offering, he could extend.
“Take Joshua surface side. Secure the entrance and prepare to move,” Grey moved towards the door the teen had come from but hesitated.
He knew what awaited him there and wasn’t confident he could face it as he was right now. The scavenger had to reign in his emotions and start to think clearly again, and for that, he required some time. Slowly, he moved to the only other door. Cake’s crude depiction of a smiling face, marked the room as safe but the tourists wouldn’t know that.
Upon entering the small sterile room with overturned spares furniture and countless active machines, which Grey placed in the category of large computers, he immediately noticed the two bodies on the floor. From the gathered pool of blood beneath the one, it was more than easy to deduce that the person was dead. However, there was one slight issue with the other. It was breathing. He couldn’t blame Cake for missing this, considering how the cumbersome hazmat suit the person was trapped in, obscured it. At least it appeared that the person was unconscious, or very good at pretending to be.
Keeping his revolver trained on the two bodies, Grey moved closer. Just to be safe, he got a good look at the dead one. A single bullet to the gut and another one through the eye. The other noticeable thing was that this one was a female, based on what could be seen of her face from behind the shattered plastic screen of her bulky helmet. This was a surprising relief for Grey because it thankfully put a wrench in the entire clone theory of the Axion brat. On the other hand, it made what Cake had done here all that more monstrous. Still, he had to be sure.
Reluctantly, Grey holstered his gun and dropped to one knee next to the other person. Definitely alive and breathing, and most likely asleep, based on the low grunts and incoherent mumbling he could hear coming from the helmet of the hazmat suit. By all accounts and a glance at the watch-like device on his wrist, this room was as safe, if not safer, compared to the other one, which made the use of such a specialised piece of gear very questionable and somewhat worrying. In addition, Grey wasn’t willing to mindlessly damage such a valuable item. A proper old-world hazmat suit is worth several fortunes. Hell, even the damaged one is going to net him a year’s worth of supplies. Grey made a mental note of where the bunker’s entrance was located. He would need to come back here when things were less complicated.
Very carefully, not to damage the valuable suit, Grey turned the unconscious person to his side and located the concealed double zipper at the back. Not that difficult actually, considering someone had the bright idea to tape the top part with silvery adhesive tape. It wasn’t as flimsy as the usual duck-tape scavengers used, having a more metallic feel to it, and he made another note to grab a roll if he found one. But now, he had to focus. Flexing his fingers a few times to make sure his hand was as steady as it could be, Grey removed the tape and undid the zippers, one at a time.
With the first layer of the suit dealt with, he revealed the bulky hunch-like filtration unit attached to the second layer. Unfastening it proved to be slightly challenging since it was the first time Grey had seen one. Satisfied with the result, and almost sure he hadn’t broken anything, he moved his hand between the two layers in search of the last few small plastic buckles connecting them. Only to stumble on something that he wasn’t expecting, but should have been obvious from the start. The unconscious person wasn’t a he, but a she. Not that it changed what Grey was doing, but it was enough to make him feel a little uncomfortable.
Steeling himself, he finished his task as quickly as possible. Finally, he removed the cumbersome helmet and froze. Grey should have realised that it was a woman, because of the size and weight of the person. But seeing a cleaner somewhat older version of Cake was far from what anyone would consider possible. Well, this wasn’t exactly right, there were plenty of similarities – hair colour, nose, chin, she even did the same thing with her eyebrows that Cake used to do as a child when having a nightmare. But at the same time, it was a different person. The facial features were softer, the jawline was much more prominent and the eyes – they were those of a human. Shining dark-brown and full of fear…
“Damn it!” Grey exclaimed and placed his hand over the woman’s mouth, preventing the scream that coming. “I’m not going to hurt you!” He spoke as softly as his gas mask would allow while still being heard.
One look at her eyes was enough to inform him that the woman was not convinced by the statement. That alone made her smarter than the tourists waiting for him. After all, he had purposely omitted the yet part of his declaration. As long as, the woman didn’t do anything that would put him in danger, Grey wouldn’t consider her his enemy. However, that didn’t make her a friend by default.
“I’ll ask you some questions and remove my hand. You answer them as best you can, we remain civil and we go our separate ways, okay?”
Terrified and shaking, it was a miracle that the woman managed to nod. However, he noticed that her gaze wandered around searching for something, or perhaps checking how far she was from the exit. Nonetheless, something about her behaviour made Grey wary.
“What is your name? What is this place? How many people are there further in the facility?” He asked each question slowly with long pauses, giving the woman time to process what information he was looking for.
Without making any sudden moves, Grey removed his hand from the woman’s mouth and was glad that she didn’t scream, yell or lunge at him. It was a welcomed change of pace, but not enough to make an experienced scavenger relax.
“A-Alexis…” The woman bit her tongue while trying to answer. He could see confidence enter her body, as she tried to move herself into a sitting position, only to stop when her eyes fell on the revolver in Grey’s hand. “Y-you can speak?”
Grey had no idea how to react to her question. Did she think him a robot because of the gas mask? Or was she touched in the head? Something of this must have translated from his body language, because the woman hurriedly added, waving her arms and hitting the back of her head on the cold metallic tiles of the floors.
“I-I-I didn’t mean it like that! You speak, of course, you do… I can understand you, after all. Ouch!” Alexis’ action made Grey question if perhaps there wasn’t some toxin or chemical circulating in the air, which had bypassed the filters of his mask. Hallucination or delirium were the only reasonably sane explanations.
“Argh. Ah. Tch,” The young woman squirmed on the floor, before fear took control of her again, as her elbow touched the dead woman next to her. “The Directorate teaches us that there’re no survivors outside SRF 75-C… Well, none that can be considered sapient…” Alexis continued, her attention focused entirely on Grey now.
“SRF 75-C?”
“Short for Support Research Facility 75-C… Are you… Are you going to kill me now?” This time her reaction and her unsteady voice, were more aligned with what he was expecting.
There was just one simple problem. Grey had no idea how to answer her question. True, killing her was an option, but there was nothing to justify such an action. At the same time, he couldn’t leave her here. An idea formed in Grey’s head. It wasn’t the best one, not by a long shot, but it would hopefully solve some of the ever-growing number of problems he was facing.
“Put your suit back on. You’re coming with me,” the scavenger commanded, taking a few steps back to give Alexis some space to move and to show that he was not hostile.
“Wait. What? Y-You, mean outside?!” The girl’s voice became a shriek before passing out.
“Oh, come on!” Grey shook his head trying to suppress the urge to shoot something as he knelt next to the unconscious Alexis. “Is everyone allergic to straight answers all of a sudden?!”
----------------------------------------