Toxic (86 page)

Naakrit let out an animal scream in the heart of the Antarctic, the prelude to ice delirium.

Joana Caselli was a survivor. She had left the misery of Naples to try her chances in Rome, and she had beaten the mafia men sent against her, resisted the fall of civilization, fought with the living dead that had invaded the capital and decimated her colleagues and her friends. Once again, she had survived. She pulled herself out of the container and searched for the pendant she kept on her neck. Either she had lost it or someone had taken it. She crossed herself, briefly thanking the Lord. There was no other explanation for this miracle other than His good will.

She vaguely remembered gunshots and screams. And a woman. Elaine... she thought, ruffling through her foggy memories. Where had she gone? And the monster?

"Are you addressing your God? That's the meaning of the greeting?"

Joana straightened up, her breathing short. That thing was there. It had been watching her since she woke up, talking to her in English, a working language that she knew. The low light stopped her from making it out clearly, but she could see the mass against the wall of a sort of hangar.

"
Chi siete
?"

"Come here. I need your help," the creature then said.

Its voice had too much of an extremely sharp whistle to it. It was her first encounter with an alien. The rumors claimed that the people who ran into them never saw the light of day again. Joana walked slowly towards the door, her bare, wet feet sticking to the cold metal. A bright light slid through the small opening. What was on the other side? Other creatures from the sky? A horde of zombies?

Reaching the entrance, she hesitated. Without a weapon, the chances of surviving were small. She closed he eyes, took a breath and then put her hand on the handle, which she pushed with all her strength.

She felt the warmth of her face. Yes, she was alive. She reopened her eyes. She sun blinded her for a moment and then the apocalyptic panorama was unveiled.

"
Dove sono, puttana
?"

Columns of black smoke rose towards the blue sky and flames devoured the floors of an industrial construction. Around thirty meters away, the blaze consumed containers and quays. The base of a crossbar, weakened, threatened to crash down onto the hangar. Twisted pipes blocked the paths. The facilities resembled an oil rig in perdition.

How had she gotten here?

Joana didn't see anyone. However, the place looked like it had been the scene of a recent battle, or had she dreamed about the fighting, the sputtering of weapons...

"They captured everyone," she heard behind her. "I imagine that the humans sabotaged the complex. They always do that when they are attacked. I managed to get us out of harm's way, away from it. Here, it's only a technical area, which didn't attract attention."

Joana turned around.

The alien was lying in a spinach-colored puddle. Was that its blood?

"I don't know if you understand me, but I need your help. I stopped the hemorrhage, but I need help. The wound is deep in my flesh."

"
Perché
?" she asked, before going back to English. "Why?"

"You won't understand if I explain."

The palm of its hand opened, letting a small ball with a pulsating orange color roll onto the floor.

"Thanks to this beacon, help will come. They will take us away from this place soon, but I need your help. I promise you that no harm will come to you. You are now a very important human, very precious. You hold the antidote."

She squinted, thrown off balance by those meaningless words. She touched the base of her neck and found the bandage where she had felt a prick and a warm feelings while looking for food in a neighborhood in Rome.

"You need to live," the creature then whistled.

In her career, Joana had been forced to work with gangsters, most of them reformed, but not all. Taming the many-tentacled monster required flexibility, making deals with the enemy and tricks as well, an attitude that was not always successful, but who cared now?

Surviving came before all. She didn't have the choice. The platform could fall at any moment.

"
Bene
... Tell me what I need to do."

Designed to work in the absence of the mercenaries, who were busy saving their own skin or fighting their rivals, who didn't bother with prisoners at all, the manufacturing chain hadn't been interrupted. The production continued and humans ended up cut up, packaged and ready to join the shelves of the Collective.

The chairs took Elaine's group. The back of the nurse's hand dragged along the ground. As her chair entered the sterilization and cleaning room, the first man, suspended by his ankles, headed for the finger bone removal station, and an articulate arm finished deposited them into a recipient, which was then sealed. The robot got back into its waiting position. Another body appeared immediately.

Outside, the battle of Dubai took a decisive turn. The Poisoners rapidly took out the defense's weak spot. They targeted the EDP units, taking out the heavy weapons and energy operations centers. On the Arthrosian's orders, the remaining mercenaries were evacuated via a transfer orbit to the last tamer leaving. They left on a T-J, which took a nose dive from the platform to avoid the shots of an insectoid drone that appeared behind it. The pilot managed to take down the device, which was turning around. A part of the facade fell off of the building. The Tracker-Jumper dove again and aimed its course back up at the square of the HQ tower. The domes were collapsing. One by one, the confinement fields disappeared and the walls shone for a few moments before disappearing. The buildings of the manufacturing chain hadn't been touched by the shots, the operations chief remarked during the flight over them. The T-J the pointed its nose towards the sky and bounded towards the clouds in a deafening rumble.

For thousands of spoiled products, it was the time to feast. The creatures rushed towards the unprotected humans.

The Mayans are liars: they promised us the Apocalypse and... nothing. Nothing happened!
So, I decided to create my own apocalyptic world combining zombies and aliens "from outer-space."
A father of two kids, I currently live with my family beside the Loire, a wild and untamed river in the center of France. I am an author who writes about the future in a pulp science-fiction genre: a river full of dead bodies, the debris of civilization and a world where predators are always ready to bite innocent people.

The TOXIC serie has originally been published by Walrus Books :
www.walrus-books.com
.

Translation
: The TOXIC series has been translated from French by Raquel Boucher from Vancouver, Canada.

Cover art
: Stephane Desienne with a special thanks to the Walrus Team for the advices.

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.