Authors: Stéphane Desienne
“They came to find weapons and then left,” he heard.
Kjet was standing in front of a pile of wood boxes stamped US Army, the most powerful human army at the time of the invasion. They were mostly empty. The numerous footprints on the dusty floor were proof of very recent activity.
“Four or maybe five individuals,” the reptilian added.
They searched the premises, inspecting every square inch. A cracking noise broke the silence and both of them turned towards its origin, their hands on their vibroblades. Kjet moved in front of the supposed menace. He headed towards the back of the warehouse, alongside the reddish hull of a former fishing boat. When he opened the door, he fell upon an infected creature walking around the back of the building. It headed for the alien immediately.
“An isolated unit,” he announced to Jave.
He smashed the open door into the creature’s nose, which was pressed up against the wood. It continued to bang. Kjet went back to the Lynian, scratching the rotten hull of the boat on the way. His claws grabbed a milky-colored worm. His tongue snatched it.
“The human that you saved, she was at Site B. That’s quite strange, seeing as you confirmed that she died during the explosion on the ship.”
The mercenary was eventually going to question his contradictions. That explained his insistence to accompany him to check out what was revealing to be too cold of a clue. The reptilian swallowed another worm.
“You took her away in the middle of the battle and came back without her,” he continued.
Jave noticed that he still had a hand on the handle of his vibroblade. Of course, he wouldn’t use it against the Combinate emissary, not without the express orders of the Primark.
“I don’t have to justify my actions. The female is important in the search for the antidote,” he specified.
“You’re using her?”
The idea of using healthy products to carry out tasks seemed to surprise him. Because they considered them merchandise, albeit precious, they were forgetting an important point: they were an intelligent species, as intelligent as those of the Collective.
“As soon as we arrive at a site, they sabotage the materials. It’s necessary for us to secure them before our intervention. We’re also missing trustworthy information. And yet, information is a necessary condition for success. The human is a sort of Säzkari. She can win trust and calm distrust.”
“A spy?”
Kjet’s hand moved away from his weapon.
“I would appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself, at least for a while.”
“You show yourself to be clever but you don’t give enough credit to the Primark,” he said, almost in anger.
“He already has enough to do. I prefer to obtain results first and not go to him with vague speculations.”
The reptilian stayed still for a moment and then returned to the T-J. “There’s nothing that will help us find our fugitives here,” he whistled.
“I agree.”
“So, let’s go back.”
Jave watched Naakrit’s second in command climb up the ramp. He was taking a big chance by giving him information on the human. It was a calculated risk. As long as they served the interests of the mercenaries, Kjet wouldn’t go against his initiatives. For the moment, he was doing well.
As long as it lasted, he thought, before going back on board.
T
wo T-Js and one transporter landed in Dubai in the early morning. The sun’s rays skimmed the crests of the waves, which set off to attack the ochre land. To the south, a brown wall blurred the landscape. The wind was blowing from the northwest and swept the area which humans referred to by the name of the Persian Gulf. The dust and sand wouldn’t be long in covering the city.
The prisoners were taken under a dome while Kjet and Jave went to the operations room. Leaning over the glowing table, the Arthrosian was studying a weather map of the region with its stormy colors. Kjet reminded him that the Primark, who was absent, would not tolerate tardiness of the delivery program. They had contracts to honor.
“The storm shouldn’t affect the supply of the product manufacturing chain,” the operations chief assured them, turning towards the reptile.
“Perfect. Where’s the Primark?”
As a response, the Arthrosian activated a communication feed. Naakrit’s scaly face filled the screen.
“I’m carrying out negotiations to provide batches of humans to the Kuat Cartel and to the GenoSaran Consortium. I hope that you have obtained results.”
Jave left it to Kjet to reveal their meager advances. He started with the prisoners and the computer which the Squil was examining at that very moment to extract the coordinates. The Lynian considered the important information: two new customers.
“The radio and a second transmission source?” the head of the troopers asked.
His second in command didn’t falter. Announcing bad news was a part of his job. The facts were followed by a brief description of the attack. Jave watched the Kathari arrive, sliding behind the back of the reptilian, who was finishing his report. Naakrit whistled several questions to clear up details of the battle and notably regarding how his second officer had exposed himself to enemy fire. The botcams recorded the battles and few details escaped them. In addition, the Primark possessed hundreds of battles on his computers. He knew how they worked.
“That outcome is a miracle,” he concluded, serious. “I’m starting to think that only officer Kuhn knows what I expect from my troops.”
Jave’s rootlets quivered on his skin. As an echo of Naakrit’s annoyed remarks, the light from outside dimmed. The rolls of dust rushed in between the bare buildings until forming a brown carpet which hid the horizon.
The Primark sent them back to their quarters, except for the Kathari, who he wished to speak with. Jave interpreted his pulling aside of the Kathari as a sign that he had discovered something in Australia. He didn’t count on being excluded from the event, but couldn’t do anything at the moment. Officer Kuhn was gaining the Primark’s confidence bit by bit, infringing more and more into Kjet’s territory.
Half-satisfied, the emissary went to the medical sector, where he found the Säzkari, who took him a few stages lower, in front of the window of a room bordered by white walls. Ten humans were lying on the floor. They had all received the treatment. Like a good scientist, the reptilian had filmed his experiments with a swarm of botcams.
Jave observed attentively. The doctor has successfully produced, almost to the second, what he had observed in Nairobi and in the Andes.
T
he pickup stopped at the top of an artificial mound. The project, considered extravagant by the press, dated back to before the invasion. A rich developer from the Middle East wanted to build a completely covered ski run, thus making one of the largest refrigerators in the world. In Florida, which was as flat as an iron, the site offered a unique view of the coast and its surroundings. It dominated a large portion of the town leading up to the ocean filled with golden flakes.
Bruce got out first, followed by Alva. Masters leaned on the frame of the truck. A few hundred meters below them, separated from a neighborhood of low-income housing, the biologist pointed to a building in the middle of a vast grassy stretch. The villa, a concrete cube, emerged like a grayish mountain in the middle of a property bordered by a deep ditch and topped off by a fence on its interior perimeter. A bridge made of thick beams was the only way through to the outside world.
“What a nice house,” Alva remarked. “It looks like a federal prison crossed with a tiny medieval castle. What type of nut job would build such a place?”
Bruce frowned. “My dad.”
The singer swallowed her saliva. There was an agitated silence and then he started his explanation, which sounded more like an accusation, or even a rant. Masters didn’t cut him short, even despite his lack of desire to listen to the late reproaches of a son to his father.
“He was so afraid that someone would steal his money and his stuff, or that someone would try to kidnap him or attack his family or close friends, that he always lived with a sort of paranoia in his gut like a leech that sucked away all his humanity. The work on the safe house started before the epidemic. I think that he had the barbed wire added when things started to turn for the worse.”
“A pit in front of the fence which protects it is a great idea,” the colonel approved. “The living dead from outside can’t reach the property, which is large enough to dissuade living intruders.”
“Yeah. The only thing missing is the crocodiles.”
Bruce kept silent, his hand to his forehead, looking for the least sign of activity. Calm reigned in the area. A breeze from the ocean, which was two or three kilometers away, gave off a relative freshness.
“I understand why he doesn’t have neighbors. Who would want to live beside a bunker?” Alva declared.
“That’s enough talk about my dad,” the biologist started. “In my opinion, it would be an ideal hideout, out of the reach of L-Ds and properly protected to offer us a moment of rest.”
“Are there supplies?” Masters asked.
“Yeah. The storeroom should be well stocked. We’ll also find supplies to treat your arm there.”
The Marine’s arm had taken on a worrying purplish-blue color. The colonel nodded, clenching his teeth.
“Hmm... and zombies,” Alva grumbled, pointing to an area near the building.
“There aren’t many of them.”
“Yeah, right. I already counted a dozen between the entrance and the steps. Walking into the lion’s den is out of the question. It didn’t really work the last time we tried this type of operation.”
How had they gotten inside the property?
The gate was closed, blocking the path at the point crossing the moat, and then at the path which led to the parking space. Bruce sighed.
“It’s the only safe area for miles around. And also, look: do you see any L-Ds other than this group, which hasn’t been able to make it out of there? They’ll be easy to kill.”
“To get inside, they will have to cross the moat and then a high fence. It would be impossible,” Masters reflected. “So, those ones were already inside. A small group, most likely.”
“We should have tried to meet back up with Hector,” the artist objected. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”
“All we have to do is clear the patio and attract the infected. Most likely they haven’t eaten in months. They’ll show up quickly. Then, we lock everything and close ourselves up in the safe house. We’ll be safe from an attack.”
“Yeah, and on the other hand, we’ll be stuck in a trap, without any way to escape. This doesn’t do it for me. I’ll say it again: we should head to the coast and find the semi-sub.”
Masters raised an eyebrow. He though it wise to question Alva’s motive for returning to the Colombian at the same time. He wasn’t a sucker, but Bruce’s dad’s villa looked like quite a tempting temporary haven.
“We should keep the truck ready to leave,” he declared. “We need to be able to leave the premises as fast as possible.”
“I agree,” the biologist conceded.
“Who’s going to take care of the zombies?”
The singer accompanied her words with a sardonic smile.
“We have enough weapons,” Bruce rebutted.
“We?”
“You and me. And Dew.”
“You’re counting on using the Asian?” she said angrily.
“Nothing will happen to him. You know that perfectly well. We may as well take advantage of his talent.”
Dewei, up until them completely calm, turned towards the young man, his eyes wide open. Bruce moved towards him.
“Do you want to help us?”
The Asian shook his head, and then took his notebook out of the pocket of his backpack.
I don’t know what to do
.
“But I do,” the scientist affirmed, forcing a smile.
He started to draw a line on the ground with the tip of the machete when Dew offered him his notebook and pencil.
“Aw, thanks, that’s nice of you,” Bruce replied.
He drew a rectangle on a sheet and then a square in the middle.
“Here’s the plan of the lot.”
The group left its perch after the short tactical briefing, during which Masters offered his experience. He repeated his military orders once again: stay in a group, move in such a way that you show a tight front and watch your back. Bruce stopped the vehicle in front of the gate covered with thorns.