Revelation

“How’s your project coming, Ashton?” Samuel asked.

“I’ve finished one of the two wavelength monitors. The one Makara and I dropped earlier is still functioning, so getting these two done will help us triangulate the Voice’s exact point of origin. Although I’m missing a few parts that I will have to find down on the surface.”

“Where are they?” Samuel asked.

There was a pause. “Bunker Six.”

Bunker Six. It was just a hop from Bunker One, toward the north. Like Bunker One, it had fallen in the xenoswarm’s first major attack on humanity. That place was going to be thick with crawlers, if our time at Bunker One was any indication.

“Ashton, it’s too dangerous,” Makara said.

“I can handle myself,” Ashton said. “I’ve gotten in and out of Bunker One half a dozen times over the years. What makes you think it will be different with Bunker Six? If the dock doors are still functional, then getting in is easy. My preliminary scans show that the Bunker’s empty. No waves coming from that area, so the Voice is focused on something else. In fact…”

Ashton paused a moment.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Just give me a second.” Once again, Ashton was quiet. I could hear the clacking of keys from his computer. “The Voice seems to be focused on where you guys are right now. Lots of waves coming in your direction.”

That didn’t sound good.

“Well, we have visual on the Great Blight right now,” Samuel said. “It looks clear.”

“Still, be on the lookout,” Ashton said. “Something fishy is going on. Like Makara said…don’t get caught with your pants down.”

“So, you’re really going into Bunker Six?” I asked.

“I have to, kid. In fact, I’m going as soon as this call is over. With the Voice focused elsewhere, it might be my best time to get in. The parts I need aren’t too far from the hangar.” Ashton cleared his throat. “Sorry. Anyway, another thing we might add to our to-do list is liberating Perseus and Orion.”

“The other two ships?” Anna asked.

“That’s right. That’s further in the future, but if we have four ships at our disposal, and more trained pilots, it will give the New Angels flexibility. It will also give us an edge in any upcoming battles we have to fight.”

Battles. Yes, there would be those, soon. But those battles were months away. Augustus was coming for us, and would have troops in the Wasteland as soon as he possibly could. That could be two months — that is, if the Wasteland winter didn’t stop him first. Ashton had mentioned that fact on one of his radio calls a couple days ago. For now, it looked as though his legions were still coming. When they got here, we had to be ready to pull out all the stops.

“Wait,” Makara said. “I think I’m seeing something.”

At the top of the ridge to the west was a swarming movement. It took me a moment to discern the distant shapes.

“Crawlers,” I said. “I wonder what they’re after.”

As Makara sped up and we drew closer, we could see more clearly. Crawlers surrounded a large group of people whose discarded bikes formed a perimeter around them.

“Ashton, we have contact,” Makara said. “The Exiles need our help.”

“Go get ’em, kid.”

Ashton cut out, as we zoomed in close.

* * *

“Turret engaged,” Anna said. “Fire?”

“Fire.”

The turret opened up, rattling Odin as its rain of lead fell upon the crawlers slithering up the hill. Chunks of pink alien flesh and fountains of gooey purple blood shot into the air, splattering onto the hillside. Several of the creatures tumbled down the hill, lifeless. The men faced outward, continuing to fire into the teeming mass. As Odin circled around to the hill’s other side, opening fire again, the creatures moved as one, fleeing their position. They scuttled toward the border of the Great Blight.

“They’re retreating,” Samuel said. “Make sure they’re good and gone.”

Makara nodded, following the line of fleeing crawlers at a low hover, keeping Odin’s nose pointed at them. Anna continued using the computer to aim and shoot, leaving a trail of dead and dying that lay twitching on the desert floor. Finally, at enormous speed, the last few remaining crawlers slithered into the xenofungal border of the Great Blight, burrowing themselves into the fungus. How quickly that fungus sucked in their bodies made my skin crawl. They were lost to view.

“Alright,” Samuel said. “Put Odin down on the hill.”

Makara veered Odin around, so that now the hill faced us. The Exiles still stood in the center of their ring of bikes, staring up into the sky. I could only imagine what their reaction to Odin would be. On the fourth day of searching, we had finally found them — and right in the nick of time. A few minutes later, and they would have been the ones lying dead in the dust, not the crawlers.

Makara set Odin down lightly about a hundred feet away from the Exiles, who had not changed position. Makara powered the fusion drive out of flight mode, and unstrapped herself from her seat.

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

We followed the New Angels’ leader from the cockpit and into the bitterly cold air.

* * *

I followed Makara, doing my best to suppress my shivering. My standing outside in the morning was my way getting used to the cold, bleak lands of the north once again.

The Exiles were grim as they turned to face us. Many had blood, both red and purple, on their clothing and bodies. They had thick beards, sunglasses, and thick, leather jackets. At their head stood the man we were looking for: Marcus. It had been awhile, but I recognized his short, solid frame, light red hair, and matching red beard. The hair fell to his shoulders, and his beard came down to the base of his neck.

“Makara,” he said. “Samuel.” He broke into a small, grim smile. “I thought you all dead.”

Makara came to a stop a few feet in front of Marcus. Samuel, Anna, and I stood in a line just a few feet behind her.

“We thought the same of you,” Makara said. She hesitated a moment before continuing. “We need your help.”

Marcus chuckled. “Straight to the point, then”

Marcus had a slow, slightly arrogant way of speaking that made him seem like he was in control — that no matter what Makara told him, he was going to be his own man.

“Truly, thank you,” Marcus said. “Without you, we’d be dead.” He gazed at Odin, over Makara’s shoulder. I’d thought he would have been a little more surprised to see it. “Looks like you’ve found a new toy.”

“A little something we picked up,” Makara said.

“So, what do you require of me?”

Samuel stepped forward and stood beside his sister. “We found the Black Files, but it wasn’t easy. It’s an alien virus causing all of this, and it’s only going to get worse.” He made a fist. “We mean to stop it.”

Marcus looked down at his shoulder, flicking off a gooey chunk of crawler flesh that he had missed. “Clearly. You don’t need any Black Files to tell this stuff is from another planet. The crawlers used to stay in their Blights, for the most part. Now, they swarm the Wasteland in packs, hunting and killing whomever they find. Sometimes, we come across corpses.” Marcus shook his head. “No one can survive outside walls these days. The settlements are overrun with refugees — that is, what cities that allow them in. That is where we’re headed, now.”

“Headed where?” I asked.

Marcus pointed backward, over his left shoulder. “Vegas. I hope to offer the Exiles’ service to one of the gang lords. We are experienced fighters, so we should get in. And if not…” Marcus paused. “Well, we’ll figure