The Vagabond Codes Page 17

  “All the world’s a stage, Whitty,” Roylott replied.

  Ben shifted restlessly in his chair. He thought about the bed that was waiting for him upstairs. He glanced at Danna, who was absently playing with her hair.

  “I think we’ve been lucky so far,” Whit continued, looking out past Ben to the moonlit plain. “Sure, we’ve lost people, especially before we laid the minefield.”

  “We’ve only recently been venturing out,” Roylott added. “Trying to gather more information.”

  “And what have you found?” the Stranger asked.

  “Prison gates cast down, armories of military bases and police stations cleaned out; and the new law of the land is that anything and everything possessed by another person will be taken by force.”

  “We’ve seen plenty of the that,” Danna said. She lifted the cat to the ground and sniffled. “Sorry, I’m allergic.”

  “We’ve come across cannibals too,” Ben said.

  “You mean the revenants?” Roylott asked.

  “No, not the augmented reality populations, if that’s who you mean,” the Stranger replied. “At least we couldn’t tell.”

  “We call them deadheads,” Cameron said, cracking his knuckles. “They haven’t been up to our area.”

  “Deadheads,” Dr. Roylott repeated in a quiet voice. “Interesting.” He paused for a moment, forming a steeple with his fingers. “They’re still out there, ever languishing for dead worlds of happiness, and always hungering for anything — or anyone.”

  A shiver ran down Ben’s spine. The deadheads. We haven’t talked about them a lot in the past year. Cannibals, too?

  Roylott continued: “Ordinary people living in their virtual reality worlds; the long-expected technological apocalypse arrives, and they’re ripped away and cast back into the world of flesh and blood with their souls and sanity warped and wrapped into nothingness.”

  “A curse on humanity is what they are,” Whit stated.

  “I disagree,” the Stranger muttered under his breath.

  Life is precious, Ben thought. That’s what the Stranger had meant.

  But at that moment, a hatch opened, and Oswald climbed through, barely avoiding the bulkhead. He sat down quickly in an empty chair and rubbed his hands along his pants.

  Ben gave Oswald an odd look when the man started chewing on his fingernails.

  “And what about the robots?” Danna asked. “Have you come across many?”

  “We know a little bit,” Whit replied. “Seen some new ones though lately. Nasty fellas. Last week alone the minefield got four of ‘em trying to attack us. But the city is still crawling with ‘em.”

  Ben perked up. “What do you mean by nasty?” he asked, leaning forward.

  “Aggressive,” Roylott replied. “Extremely violent. Some of them even carry weapons. Frankly, I didn’t know that was possible. And they’ve gotten worse.”

  “Since the Surge?” Ben asked.

  “I’m assuming you mean the EMP,” Whit said. “The first one, that is.”

  Danna twitched. “Wait, the first EMP?” she asked, gazing sharply at the old man.

  “A second EMP hit nearly two months after the first.”

  “What do you think it was?” the Stranger asked as he reached down to pet the cat.

  “Wasn’t a solar flare, that’s for sure,” Roylott said. “Our hunch is that it was a bomb.”

  “We nuked ‘em in retaliation,” Oswald added.

  “Retaliation for what?” Danna asked. “Against who?”

  Whit took a long puff of his pipe. “Invasion.”

  Cameron’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Ben. “Back at the retreat, you remember what those vagabonds had on, right? The ones we took down?”

  Ben rubbed his forehead. So much of it was a blur. Starting slowly, he said: “They wore blue and gray camouflage; and ripped too as if they took the clothes from somebody. And one of them, a bright blue cap.” He paused — it was starting to come back to him. “Another one had a badge on its camo jacket that said, ‘Global Federation.’ I remember thinking that was strange.”

  “Global Federation, I’ve seen them,” Whit said. He nodded at Oswald. “Him too.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ben said, running his hands through his hair.

  “My guess is that America collapsed,” Cameron said, “and the entire world went haywire.”

  “Collapsed?”

  “Most likely,” the Stranger said. “The United Nations came in and tried to put some form of government together.”

  “Wait,” Ben said, looking at the Stranger. “You know about this too?”

  “Not everything. Whit is certainly filling in some gaps. And I’ve had my theories.”

  Ben wondered why the Stranger had never shared this with him. He furrowed his brow and dimly recalled what he learned in Civics class about the UN, a lifetime ago. “So, they’re here? Restoring order?”

  “Truth be told, Ben,” the Stranger said. “You and your friends — fortunately — have been holed up pretty good at your retreat. So much has happened in the last year. A lifetime’s worth of history.”

  “What’s your theory?” Roylott asked the Stranger.

  “For the first few months, the military and police were completely powerless to stop AR violence and the robot uprising, with the electricity being gone. And that’s not including the general mass panic that naturally occurs with catastrophes of that magnitude. So, it’s likely this Global Federation put together a massive peacekeeping force and deployed to America.”

  “But this wasn’t a peacekeeping force,” Whit said. “It was an invading army.”

  “Why do you think that?” Danna asked.

  She had been silent for some time, looking like she was out of her comfort zone. Or maybe she’s shy around adults, Ben wondered.

  Oswald cleared his throat and said: “Cause there’s thousands of killer robots wanderin’ the city killin’ everything in sight. Robot soldiers.”

  Ben blinked and his pulse quickened. Suddenly, it all made sense. He turned to the Stranger, then to Cameron, and exclaimed: “Dad’s plans! This Global Federation must’ve used his stuff that the government gave the UN.” He tapped his legs excitedly. “And they did it. They built—”

  Danna and Cameron glared at him. Roylott cocked an eyebrow up.

  Ben’s stomach dropped. Idiot! He wanted to bang his head against the lantern.

  “What’s that?” Whit asked as if he didn’t hear correctly.

  “An army of artificially intelligent soldiers,” Cameron said, finishing Ben’s sentence and ending it right there. “Our dad used to do some government work.”

  “After this army landed, the second EMP hit,” the Stranger said. “And apparently these androids were affected — but not disabled. Same thing with the other robots.” He glanced at Ben.

  “It’s insane out there, bro,” Cameron said earnestly. “I don’t think the kids at the retreat realize how lucky we’ve all been.”

  “So, America is gone?” Ben asked.

  “I guess the America as we knew it,” Danna said.

  “My hope is that there are still Americans alive,” Whit said. “That’s why we got the flag up there. But the government and the military . . . .”

  “Gone,” Cameron said. He whistled.

  A heavy silence fell upon the group. Ben gazed fixedly at the cat, which was rubbing its head against the Stranger’s legs. He thought about America’s history: the Declaration of Independence, the Civil War, World War II, 9/11, the Sino-Korean Naval War. Space colonization. All of that gone, he thought. All that for nothing? So it could come to this?

  How could anyone possibly have any hope left?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Saving the World

  BEN WAS AWAKENED by a cool steel muzzle pressed into his temple. His eyes snapped open to Oswald’s sweaty face inches away and a trembling finger to his lips.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw a man and a woman, both
armed, holding Danna at gunpoint.

  Cameron and the Stranger were inexplicably still asleep on the floor.

  Then he remembered: he had watch duty. He had fallen asleep. They trusted me.

  Bolts of guilt and helplessness surged through his body and his fists clenched and his heart wanted to explode.

  His eyes flashed in anger and his stare tore two holes in Oswald’s face. You’re going to pay for this. For a moment he closed his eyes, forced away the grogginess, and yanked his mind into alertness.

  Noticing Ben’s wrathful eyes, Oswald twitched. “We just want your guns, is all,” Oswald whispered weakly. “Ain’t nobody gotta get hurt now. Just promise me you’ll be quiet.”

  Ben knew he had to make a decision. He lunged forward and head-butted Oswald on the crown of his nose. Oswald dropped his gun and reeled backward, clutching his face while letting out a pained yowl.

  As soon as Ben had made his move, Danna fell to her knees and sprung free from her two captors and bounded down the stairs. The man and the woman stood there stunned, their mouths agape.

  Cameron shot up straight from his sleeping bag, and seeing Oswald standing over his brother, he dove for his legs, knocking the portly man over with a loud crash.

  Ben grabbed the gun and pressed it to Oswald’s temple, returning the favor. His head hurt and he could see stars and his forehead was swelling up.

  Before the other two intruders even raised their handguns to shoot, the Stranger disarmed the woman, held her arm upwards behind her back, and pointed her gun at the man’s frightened face.

  “Drop it,” he snapped in a menacingly cool tone.

  The man paled and slowly knelt and placed the handgun on the floor. The Stranger reached down and picked it up and tucked it in his pants behind his back.

  The Stranger motioned with the gun and said, “Now take two steps backward and sit against the wall with your hands on your head.” He moved the woman forward. “You too. Sit.”

  “Same for you, Ozzy,” Cameron said harshly, pushing him toward the other two.

  Oswald had a small gash on his nose. Ben, not before grumbling, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and tossed it to him.

  At that moment, an out-of-breath Danna returned with a fire pick. Despite the gravity of the situation, both Ben and Cameron laughed.

  “Danna, keep watch,” the Stranger said, handing her the gun. He turned to the three assailants, and his eyes narrowed. “You know I could’ve shot you both the moment I opened my eyes. Now tell us what in the world were you thinking.”

  “Oswald told me he wanted our guns,” Ben said, rubbing his forehead.

  The Stranger glared at the cowering man. “For what?”

  Oswald was drenched with sweat, and his hands trembled. “Not just your guns,” he said hoarsely. “We especially wanted your grenades.” He swallowed hard. “And . . . all your other supplies too.”

  The other man gave Oswald a black look.

  “What?” Oswald said, throwing up his hands. “Ain’t no reason not to tell the truth.”

  “We didn’t mean you any harm, I swear!” the woman cried. She was in her early forties, frail, with a hollow-cheeked face and crispy red hair that was streaked with gray.

  “Shut up, lady,” Cameron snapped. He crouched in front of Oswald and looked him fiercely in the eyes. “You’re gonna stick a gun to my brother’s head, scumbag?”

  Ben took a step forward. “Knock it off, Cameron,” he said softly. “It’s over.”

  “Please, we only needed help,” the woman squeaked. “Please, don’t hurt us.” Her voice trailed off.

  “I told you to shove it,” Cameron growled.

  “Cam, it’s okay,” the Stranger said, touching his shoulder. He studied the woman. “What do you mean help?”

  Ben furrowed his brow and a knot twisted in his stomach.

  “They’ve got my baby girl!” the woman sobbed into her hands. “And Sammy.”

  Danna knelt down next to the woman and touched her shoulder. “Who has them?” she asked gently but firmly. “Who has your daughter?”

  Oswald, holding the handkerchief to his nose, cleared his throat and spoke up. “They call themselves the Witchers,” he said quietly. “Two days ago, Sammy — that’s my boy — and Ramona’s daughter, Claire Marie, was out gathering firewood with two of our folk. Then them Witchers, they come outta nowhere in a big ol’ van, shoot Mr. Hines in the head and take off with my boy — and Claire Marie. They shot Mrs. Hines, and she only lived long enough to tell what happened.”

  “So, these Witchers kidnapped your two children?” the Stranger asked.

  Oswald and Ramona both nodded slowly.

  Ben fidgeted. He didn’t like where this was going, and he suddenly had the urge to pack up and bolt and forget about these miserable people.

  “We were gonna make a run for ‘em,” the other man said quietly. “Once we got your weapons we were gonna work up a plan.”

  “You mean rescue your kids?” Cameron asked. “From these so-called ‘Witchers’?”

  “We know where their base is,” Oswald said. “Johnson’s Quarry, six miles up Route 77. Big old place.”

  “A base? How many guys do they have?”

  “At least a dozen,” the other man replied roughly. “But there could be thirty of ‘em.”

  “And all of them armed?” the Stranger asked plainly.

  “Yes, sir,” Oswald said earnestly. “They’ve been ruling this area pretty much since the day everything went down. Only reason we’re still here is that we’ve put down them mines throughout these fields. Mr. Hines had this old army booby-trap manual—”

  “So, let’s be clear,” the Stranger said matter-of-factly. “Your two children are being held hostage by twenty-something men armed to the teeth in a fortified base?”

  “Yes, sir, we believe so. But they’re more than just men; they’re into black magic. Some say demonic.”

  Cameron scoffed and shook his head. “And you think you’re gonna rescue them by taking our stash? Hah!”

  The woman burst into a fresh round of sobs.

  “We weren’t gonna kill you, ya know,” Oswald said, pleadingly. “We really weren’t.”

  The Stranger waved him off and began rubbing his chin. Then he looked up. “I don’t blame you for what you did here,” he began. “If I were in your shoes, I would’ve done the same thing.”

  Ben doubted that. They could’ve at least asked us first. These people were sloppy. And weak. And after seeing the Stranger in action the past few days, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Mr. Theo would’ve put bullets in their heads before taking their gear.

  The Stranger cleared his throat. “But. . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “We could’ve just asked you?” the woman said, finishing the Stranger’s thought.

  Uh, duh.

  The woman snorted and said: “As if you’d actually be willing to put your lives on the line for two stupid kids who are probably gonna get killed by them cursed robots by next month anyhow?” She laughed bitterly. “People don’t do nothing for nobody anymore. It’s all about takin’ from other people.”

  “But you were kind enough to let us stay here,” Danna said.

  “Hey, what about Whit?” Cameron asked suspiciously. “That old—”

  “He don’t know nothin’ about this,” Oswald replied, putting a hand up.

  “Well, if you go through with this, you’re all going to get yourself killed,” the Stranger said sharply. “And your two kids.” He stood up. “I get what you’re doing, but let’s face it: you can’t do this on your own.”

  “It’s suicide,” Cameron added.

  Oswald lowered his head; the other two sat there with empty faces.

  As the Stranger spoke, Ben’s heart sunk. I have a bad feeling about this. He exchanged glances with Danna and let out an exaggerated sigh. What is he going to get us into?

  After a moment, the woman said: “What, you’re gonna help us now, a
fter what we was gonna do to you?”

  “Not help you,” Cameron said. “Help those kids.” Looking for affirmation, he glanced at the Stranger, who nodded solemnly.

  Ben threw up his hands and let them fall at his side. His mind raced. Well, this mission didn’t last long, he thought, because it’s all gonna end here. Ha! This wasn’t even a mission — we just left home to put ourselves on death row.

  He gave a derisive laugh and stormed out of the room.

  Ben stood outside on the top level that overlooked the vast minefield that was supposedly keeping them safe. Safe from the outside, he thought, but not from the inside. The moon hid behind a thin layer of clouds, bathing the quiet lands in a pale blue light and casting the blackest of shadows. Beneath him, he heard the stack of piled trailers creak and scrape and the muffled voices of the night watch.

  “Hey,” someone called softly behind him.

  “Can you believe this?” Ben said, not turning around.

  “I don’t like this any more than you do,” Danna said, coming alongside him. “But we can’t just let them die there.”

  “So, we’re gonna die instead?” He gave a spiteful laugh. “What happened to us and this mission to save the world? Doesn’t the world need us alive right now?”

  Danna picked at a fingernail. “What would you do if it were one of us who was caught?” she asked softly. “What if, instead of them, it was JB and . . . Izzy?”

  Ben didn’t respond. Of course, we’d get them, he thought to himself. They’re our family, but these people. . . . He rubbed his swollen forehead.

  “You know,” Danna said, leaning against the steel railing and clasping her hands together; “you talk about us saving the world. Maybe it starts right here.”

  “What do you mean?” Ben asked, glancing at her attentively.

  She turned and faced him. “Well, maybe these people needed us. Maybe we were meant to be here, and we’re meant to save them.”

  “What does that have to do with saving the world?”

  “I think the world is as big or as small as we make it. And right now, our world is small.” She took hold of his elbow and smiled. “These people are a part of it whether we like it or not.”