Children of the Plague

Chapter Six: Red Point Raid

Chapter Six: Red Point Raid

The warehouse belched hot, rotten air as Lanni opened the door. Offspring stink mingled with the faint reek of long forgotten perishables and a not-so-subtle blend of human waste. She hoped the quarter-mile long building still held non-perishable food, if it ever had in the first place.

The creepy sensation of being watched had her fighting the urge to continually glance over her shoulder. A scream bounced through the corrugated alleys and tunnels. It died as abruptly as it began, leaving a tense silence in its wake.

Alex had warned her against coming here. He may have been right.

“He was right,” John’s phantom voice said. “The wilds are dangerous, even for you. Why risk it, when the Beekman hasn’t been searched yet? The Pace campus and the hospital are probably full of salvage, too.”

“Thanks for that, John,” Lanni muttered. “Those buildings are all in the safe zone. The colonists can search them whenever they want.”

“Yes, and I say let them,” John replied. “They don’t need our help. Most of them are ready to evacuate the city the moment Tina has her baby. They can live that long on what they already have, even without rationing.”

“Can you try to remember that you are only a figment of my imagination?”

“I’m real,” he said in a soft, uncertain whisper.

“I’m sorry John, you’re right,” Lanni said with equal uncertainty. He was a replication of the living John’s memories, implanted in her mind, as was Rumiko. Alex had given her other memories and skills, too, but only John and Rumiko talked to her.

“I don’t want to be here either,” she continued, “but the colonists can’t leave the safe zone. I can.”

John would have heard her thoughts as easily as her voice, but speaking aloud, even to the voices in her head, satisfied some of her social cravings.

Sensei Rumiko chuckled softly. “M. P. C.,” she said. “That will always amuse me. They call their prison home the Manhattan Penal Colony, like it’s Australia. It is still a prison. Having the door key doesn’t make them any less prisoners.”

A heavy metallic thump accompanied the screech of tortured metal. The air shook with it, like a drum beat. Another followed, and another, still; each closer and louder than the last. Lanni slipped between the rows of giant forklifts like a black-clad shadow, making her way towards a quieter section.

Even in total darkness, she could see well enough to make out shapes, but the moonlight filtering down through a skylight afforded her the ability to distinguish colors and text. Metal steps clung to the wall ahead of her, leading up to a steel-mesh walkway where windows let the office workers oversee activity on the warehouse floor.

The vaguely human wail of another dying husk had Lanni looking around for its source.

“Focus, child,” Rumiko said. “The offspring are not likely to notice you. Do not let them distract you.”

“Good advice, Sensei,” Lanni said. “Because having two conversations with myself is much less distracting.”

The husband and wife team fell silent while Lanni climbed the stairs for a better vantage.

“How will you transport your salvage back to the prison?” John asked. “Three miles isn’t far, but you can only carry so much on your back. It will hamper you if you have to fight.”

She took Rumiko’s advice and ignored him. Tonight was about searching. She’d figure out the logistics tomorrow if she found something worth salvaging. Besides, even a single backpack of food or some clean water might buy them another precious day.

Two more metallic bangs shook the air. A few rows away, an offspring had taken a running start atop a stack of containers. It soared awkwardly to the next stack, flailing its gorilla-like arms in a parody of wings.

It landed with the same steel-bending crunch she heard a moment ago, and perched on the edge like a gargoyle. Then it did something strange: it waited.

“I think it wants to frighten the husks into running,” John said.

Lanni had to agree. Silhouetted beneath the broken skylights, this beast broke nearly all of the offspring rules. They were not patient hunters. Their playbook was short, and it said nothing of waiting or of frightening their prey.

But the tactic worked. Three husks broke from their cover and ran deeper into the warehouse. Continuing its strange behavior, the offspring didn’t give chase.

What are you doing up there, landshark? Go catch some skinnies for dinner so I can move on.

“We should go,” John said. “The skinnies, as you call them, will see you, then the offspring will know you are here. If a host is controlling them, they will kill you.”

“True,” she said, considering the possibility. Of course, there were hosts, and then there were hosts. They were not all created equal. “But I’ve come all this way, haven’t I? I can’t go back now.”

“Of course you can,” John said. “Those people never planned on staying in the prison forever. They have enough food.”

“Yes, if nothing goes wrong. It’s not about the food, though. If they suddenly found their stores held more food than they thought, they would feel more secure, even if they didn’t eat a bite of it. Jeez, I’m fourteen years old and I understand that.”

Two more offspring loudly drummed into high positions near the first. As John said, offspring wouldn’t notice her without help, but Lanni crouched instinctively, never-the-less. This seemingly new tactic puzzled her.

Offspring had no need to frighten their prey into giving away their positions. They saw, heard, and smelled everything through the Con. They could pinpoint every skinny in the building.

Savage, terrified screams bounced through the metallic maze as the offspring dropped simultaneously from their perches. A chorus of similar cries meant that further attacks were occurring throughout the warehouse.

“Now they are coordinating their attacks?” John asked. “This is strange. I don’t like it.”

Another handful of mostly-naked husks ran into the open a few yards away, and scattered to other dark corners. The shrieks of the one that didn’t get away came to a quick and horrible halt.

“That’s my cue,” Lanni said. She started back down the stairs, staying low and close to the wall.