Oath of the Survivor

To an extent, Kyle had been hoping the trip to Albaum would be rife with danger to keep his mind off the challenges ahead, but unfortunately he had no such luck.  The journey was quiet and painful, with Kyle once again wrestling with the feelings of loss.  This grief was different than when he lost his grandfather – sharp and bitter rather than the deep, oppressive hurt he felt when Clark died.  As he reflected on that, he realized something.  He was angry as much as he was sad.  These were people he’d trusted, people he’d been willing to protect at great personal harm – and they’d left him. 

Part of him wondered now, looking back, if Thomas, Dalen, and Amir had known.  He was convinced that Garth knew at a minimum, and that caused his anger to flare.  What did I ever do to you? I protected innocent people, and you throw me to the wolves because I wouldn’t do exactly what you wanted?  These thoughts continued to grow and build, until he remembered the look on Garth’s face after they’d encountered Carlyle.  In that one, crystalized moment, Kyle recognized the look of betrayal and anger that Garth had shown as a mirror of the expression he was beginning to wear himself. 

The realization hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water, and he stopped walking to take a deep breath and recenter himself.  He’d seen firsthand in his friend what festering anger could do if he left it unchecked, and the memory made him shiver all over again.  He knew the magnitude of the emotion was different, but the danger was still there.  Kyle took a much-needed breath, and tried to bring the turmoil he felt back into check.  He was still angry – and he knew himself well enough to know that wasn’t going to change any time soon. 

However, being angry and letting the anger color his perception were two different things.  With significant effort Kyle brought the boiling pot back down to a simmer as he walked.  Fortunately, he had assistance to help in that process in the form of C.H.A.D.D., who was happily yammering away about the various diagnoses he’d been tracking from their former travel companions. 

“C.H.A.D.D., you really have no concept of privacy, do you?” 

[WHY WOULD I, DR. MAYHEW?  EARLY IDENTIFICATION, DIAGNOSIS, AND TREATMENT UNIVERSALLY RESULTS IN BETTER OUTCOMES FOR PATIENTS, IT WOULD BE IRRESPONSIBLE NOT TO KNOW THE STATUS OF PATIENTS TRAVELING WITHIN A CENTRAL HEALTH-SANCTIONED AMBULANCE.] 

“C.H.A.D.D., you can drop the act.  We both know that you know that we’re not in an ambulance.  And one of these days your cavalier scanning will get you into trouble. Don’t expect me to save you if Stephanie comes after you for getting too familiar.” 

[THAT WOULDN’T BE AN ISSUE, DR. MAYHEW.] 

“Oh, how so?” 

[STEPHANIE IS UNAWAKENED AND LACKS ABILITIES ABLE TO REACH ME IF I INCREASE ALTITUDE.  AND AS THE ATTENDING PHYSICIAN, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS.  IT IS HIGHLY PROBABLE ANY BACKLASH WOULD BE DIRECTED AT YOU.] 

The drone floated along merrily as Kyle considered the implications.  Well crap. C.H.A.D.D. wasn’t wrong, nobody would believe the drone was taking this information without Kyle’s approval.  They’d believe it even less if C.H.A.D.D. lied about it.  He filed a mental note that the drone had officially crossed the line from “sassy” to “morally bankrupt mastermind,” but smiled despite himself.  They’d been through quite a bit on their journey so far, and it was honestly an encouragement to have the little drone with him for whatever was ahead. “I don’t suppose you have any records or maps of Albaum handy?” 

[NO, DR. MAYHEW.  I’M A DIAGNOSTIC DRONE, NOT A CARTOGRAPHY UNIT.] 

“Yeah, I get it.  Can’t blame me for asking though, it would be handy.” 

[RECENT POPULATION ESTIMATES PUT ALBAUM AT ROUGHLY FORTY THOUSAND, IT SHOULD BE SURVEYABLE OVER THE COURSE OF TWO TO THREE DAYS GOING BY YOUR RECENT PACE.] 

“Wait a second – you actually kept population records?  I feel like I’m going to regret asking this, but why?” 

[EPIDEMIOLOGY AND PANDEMIC PREPAREDNESS BOTH REQUIRE POPULATION CHARTING AND TRAVEL ITINERARIES TO BE UPLOADED TO CENTRAL HEALTH ON AN REGULAR BASIS.] 

Kyle stopped walking as his face took a thoughtful expression, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his chin. 

“If I’m hearing you correctly, you have access to the most recent data before things started falling apart?” 

[THAT’S CORRECT, DR. MAYHEW.] 

That was of interest to Kyle.  He’d never worked with either the epidemiology or pandemic preparedness units, but he couldn’t help but feel that this information could be extremely valuable.  The first thought was about his family.  If any of them had been traveling, they might have gotten away from the worst of the blast, and may have survived after all.  Twin emotions lit up in his heart, a spark of hope and a feeling of dread.  Opening that box would require him to confront the reality, whatever it was, and Kyle wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle that yet.  On the other hand, reviewing the travel logs could give him some answers on other visitors who had been in Nierburg before the calamity struck, the same with other settlements that were likely to have survivors. 

Councilman DeRosa was certainly high up on the food chain, but if Kyle managed to find other influential people and make himself useful, there was a chance that this thing could still turn around.  His contemplation was broken by a notification from C.H.A.D.D.

[DR. MAYHEW, DETECTING FOUR LIVING SIGNATURES APPROACHING OUR LOCATION.  SIZE AND MANA SIGNATURES CONSISTENT WITH MUTATED BEETLES.] 

With only four of them, Kyle didn’t feel any particular danger and was preparing to activate HASTE to disengage and run away.  After activating his skill a realization dawned on him.  He’d been cautious to keep his abilities under wraps when traveling with Garth, and he’d gained a handful of levels since.  Now, he was free to explore the upper boundaries of what he could do, and if he was honest, he was a little excited to find out.  After all, what kind of scientist doesn’t want to push into the unknown once in a while?

As jails went, the accommodations in Nierburg were better than most.  Spacious rooms with clean bedding and still-functional utilities made the captives feel more comfortable than they had living out on the road for the past months.  Like the others, Martin had kept his head down and followed instructions, biding his time until a Liberation contact inside Nierburg could locate them and tell them what the next steps were.

He knew some of the others were bothered by what the Mayhew boy had said, but not Martin.  He'd served in a variety of support capacities under Gregory Valentine for over a decade before the man’s disappearance, and he knew his loyalty would be rewarded.  He had prepared himself to be roughed up by the guards, but they quietly took him to his cell and let him get settled in after a thorough search.  Barely two hours had passed, and a boring-looking man in a charcoal suit walked up to the entrance of his cell.  Martin looked at the man, saw clear signs of aging with liver spots across his head and large dark circles under his eyes.  His wispy gray hair barely grew above the top of his ears, but despite the seeming frailty there was cunning in the gray eyes. 

“I’m Mr. Flotsam, here on behalf of Central Administration to document your arrival.  Quite a mess out there from what I’ve been told.” 

Martin just looked at the man, remaining silent. 

“Oh you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to – goodness knows I’m not here to torture anybody.   You boys made quite a stir though – an armed group with an awakened leader attacking travelers from Albaum.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sounds a bit too coordinated for just petty banditry.” 

He met Martin’s eyes then, and Martin could tell the man was waiting for something.  Is our contact here already?  Martin decided to test the waters. 

“You play cards old man?” 

Without a word the man pulled a pack of playing cards out of the breast pocket of his suit, and showed him the bottom, the Ace of Hearts being clearly displayed.  That was the sign for somebody in the know, and Martin got to business. 

“We were part of Carlyle’s crew, Boltsbury and Mayhew took us captive and brought us here.  We tracked a group out of Albaum but didn’t get a chance to do a full sweep of the city because of what happened.  I won’t talk, but I know some of these guys don’t have the same background with Valentine that I do.” 

The old man’s face didn’t react, but he was jotting down notes on a small pad of paper as Martin continued to break down all the events since their departure. 

“And you’re certain it was a Kyle Mayhew that was involved with taking you in?” 

“That’s what he said at least, and everybody else seemed to think so.” 

Mr. Flotsam frowned, looking at another note. 

“Other than the speed ability and the resistance ability, did he show anything else?” 

Martin scratched his head as he thought. 

“Nothing else exciting, maybe some healing?  It wasn’t too fancy but it kept our targets healthier than they should have been.” 

A contemplative look crossed Mr. Flotsam’s face, and a moment later he snapped his notepads shut and put them back into his suit. 

“This has been helpful, Martin.  Mr. Valentine will be pleased.” 

Martin grinned at that, and as the other man stood to leave he called after him. 

“What are our orders for next steps?” 

Mr. Flotsam stopped, looking at him with an almost sad gaze. 

“Unfortunately you won’t be receiving any further orders.  None of you will.  For the glory of the Liberation.” 

With that, Mr. Flotsam turned and left.  Martin sat in disbelief for a moment, until he heard the sound of opening cell gates followed by short, piercing screams.  He waited and waited until he saw another man approach his cell door.  Dressed in gray combat fatigues with a blue bandanna, he pulled out a key and unlocked the cell.  He then tossed Martin a knife, which the man looked at in disbelief. 

“Here’s the score.  You and your buddies attempted a prison break.  You killed the guards who escorted you in, but I was able to catch you and put a stop to it before it got bad.  Any questions?” 

Martin looked from the knife to the stranger with wide eyes. 

“What… what.. what?” 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to get it.  Just wanted to give you the knife to make it sporting.”  With that, the other man vanished, reappearing in front of Martin in a flash, driving his own knife deep into Martin’s chest.  He cried out before falling backwards, dead before he hit the ground. 

Terry whistled as he wiped off the blade of his dagger after removing it from Martin’s chest.  It had been years since he’d received direct orders, and here he was getting a string of jobs from Flotsam in quick succession.  He smiled as the dagger went back into its sheath.  Things were about to get a whole lot more exciting around Nierburg.

~~~

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