Devoured World: Volume One Read online

  A couple of murmurs of disapproval broke from the crowd and Smith stepped forward.

  “It’s for your own good! When you’re alone in the darkness with nothing around you but the twisted, gibbering hordes of mutants, you’ll be glad we know where to find you.”

  “Thank you, Master Sergeant Smith. There isn’t some nefarious reason for the chips, it’s not our way of controlling you like they did under the New World Order. Those times are long since passed.”

  Seemingly satisfied with the explanation, the furrowed brows and narrowed eyes relaxed. The observers moved between the soldiers, taking out small injector guns and implanting each of them with the microscopic chip. Andy stared at the small drop of blood rising from the tiny puncture and his mind flashed back to the ascension of the fascistic government from centuries past. The so-called elites of the world transmitted their treaty signing ceremony to the masses. Arrogant and aloof, they assured the people it would herald a new dawn on peace and prosperity. Andy’s team had been filled with trepidation as they were summoned to the medical bay and fitted with a far larger and more painful tracking processor. Their hesitation had been well founded with the horrific genocide that followed. Shaking his head to banish the screams, he wiped the spot away and returned attention to the officers.

  “The first test is a general fitness evaluation involving a twenty-kilometre run around the perimeter of the facility. Push yourself as hard as you can; your improved cardiovascular system can handle it and we need the readings that it’ll provide. Smith will be the one to beat, which hasn’t ever happened yet as he still holds the record for the run. I’ll hang back and shout at the slackers, not that I think there’ll be the need with this platoon.”

  Smith glared at them, the challenge written plainly on his face. “It’s a quarter mile to the wall which we’ll run in formation to get warmed up. As soon as we hit the perimeter it’s every man and woman for themselves. If any of you pussies can beat me, I’ll buy the drinks tonight. Hell, I’ll buy them for the whole week.”

  Hardie moved to the rear of the two columns and blew a whistle. Smith started to jog and the claps of boots on concrete quickly fell into a steady rhythm. Andy smiled to himself at the memories of basic training and thought the only thing missing was a cadence to run with. Smith’s booming voice answered his mental request, bouncing from the buildings they passed.

  Darkness reigns across the world, round the plug our species swirls.

  I was happy in my grave, ‘til the world I had to save.

  Dragged out of those birthing pods, where the hell’s our absent God?

  He hung us humans out to dry, mocking us from up on high.

  We’ve been spawned to do our bit, with Ashdown guns we’ll kill the shits.

  The alien scum will get theirs too, we’ll mount their heads on sharp bamboo.

  When we’ve pulled back from the brink, I’ll say, ‘fuck you’ and have a drink.

  Sound off, one, two.

  Sound off, three, four.

  Cadence count, one, two, three, four. One, two… three four!

  “I prefer the old chants,” Andy grumbled. “They were less morbid.”

  Passing between the final buildings, the turret topped perimeter wall rose in front of them. Veteran guards and Mechs watched their approach from above.

  Smith picked up the pace before calling back over his shoulder. “Break formation! I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line!”

  “We can’t let him win!” shouted Zip, forging ahead on her powerful legs.

  “I don’t intend to!” Andy replied, matching her stride for stride.

  The squad raced on and Hardie was forced into an early sprint. There won’t be any bollockings today, he thought, smiling to himself. The strength on display was quite remarkable and it wasn’t long before his steady breathing became slightly laboured. You’re getting too old for this.

  At the front of the pack, Smith was comfortably pulling ahead. After two kilometres his figure had disappeared around the curve. Andy was feeling incredible; the muscles in his legs were strong and responsive to the terrain. His lungs drew air deeply; the pounding heart circulating it around his bloodstream effortlessly. Increasing their speed, the trailing foot of the master sergeant came back into view, followed by his calves and then his whole body. Glancing back, he saw the pair gaining on him.

  “Did you see that? We’ve got him worried!”

  “It could be an act,” Andy replied. “He might let us catch up and then laugh in our faces.”

  “We won’t know until we try!”

  Zip went flat out, pulling away. Andy risked a quick look over his shoulder and they were in the same position as their supervisor. The nearest member of their squad was starting to disappear from view.

  “Fuck it!”

  Using the untapped resources of his new body, Andy accelerated and swiftly caught up with his friend. Only by the miracle of the geneticists were they able to keep up the previously unimaginable momentum. The drab scenery passed in a blur as they sprinted onwards, rapidly gaining on Smith. Drowning out the echoes of their boots came the yells of encouragement from the guards above. Twenty yards separated them. Then fifteen. Ten. Five.

  “Morning, Sarge,” Zip teased as they came alongside their superior.

  “Nice day for a run,” Andy added.

  “Mine’s a Baileys.”

  “I’m fond of rum myself.”

  “Fuck you both… I’m seventy years… older than you…”

  “It’s showing, Sarge.”

  Andy and Zip left the ailing officer in their wake. Taking in ragged gasps, he shouted expletives at them.

  “You should save your breath, Sarge. You’re slowing down!”

  The advice only brought more abuse. Concentrating on their own breathing, they fell silent and raced on. As they passed, the walls were erupting with jubilant cheers, spurring them to even greater velocities. Troops from the other coloured barracks followed the sounds of pandemonium, emerging from between the ranges, storehouses, and various other military buildings.

  “How much further?” Zip asked. Even with her enhanced genetics the burn of lactic acid was starting to slow her down.

  “Not far. I recognise that mark on the wall!” Andy replied, pointing out the signs of a fluid leak that had discoloured the metallic alloy from grey to a murky brown.

  The curve in the perimeter revealed the waiting observers. Impassive, they stared at their screens, monitoring the data rolling in.

  “Come on, slowpoke!” Zip laughed, taking the lead.

  Andy was giving it his all. Summoning the last drops of energy, he managed to draw level as they careened past the startled technicians. Coming to a stop they bent double, hands on knees. Sucking in ragged breaths, they looked at each other and burst out laughing. Frowning, the observers studied the tablets to see if their bizarre behaviour had any medical source.

  “Why’re we… laughing?”

  Zip shrugged, snorted, then started all over again. Smith turned the corner, saw them, and gave them a one finger salute which only increased their mirth.

  “You’re fast… I’ll give you… that,” gasped the master sergeant.

  “We’re only what the scientists have created, Sarge.”

  “Even so, I’m still proud to…” he panted, stretching back to expand his tortured lungs. “Be fighting alongside you.”

  “We’ll try not to let you down,” Andy declared.

  “Let’s see what times you got… You’ve smashed my record.”

  “You averaged one minute twenty-eight seconds per kilometre,” answered the lead observer. “That’s a full nine seconds faster per kilometre than your record, sir.”

  “Yeah, ok, don’t rub it in. These upstarts will be boasting about this for weeks as it is.”

  “Don’t forget the free drinks,” Zip warned.

  “I didn’t specify what type of drinks,” Smith protested. “I meant water.”

  “Don’t b
e a sore loser, Sarge. Technically, none of us have ever had an alcoholic drink before; we’ll be smashed after two glasses.”

  “Ok, ok! As much as it pains me to say, damned fine work, soldiers. Let’s get some hydration while we wait for the others.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  “Is everyone feeling alive?”

  The squad affirmed; the endorphins surging through their systems.

  “Your times were all incredible,” Hardie confirmed. “Batchelor, your heart had a slightly abnormal rhythm during the last two kilometres. Doctor Edgemont will take you to medical to get it checked out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Giles followed the observer, looking back with a nervous grin.

  “You’ll be fine!” Loco called out and he gave her a wave.

  “He’ll be back in no time,” Smith added.

  “We now move on to a strength test. Some of you are built for the Devastators, that much is plain.”

  They formed up and slowly jogged back into the centre of the facility, forgoing the military song. Entering the gymnasium, the next set of observers were waiting for them.

  “This’ll be nice and quick. You’ll do four compound lifts with the maximum you can safely handle; squat, deadlift, bench press, and overhead press.”

  Confused, the soldiers looked around. Expecting to see dumbbells, barbells, bikes, treadmills, and similar equipment, all that was present were a row of bars mounted between two upright columns.

  “They’re magnetised and work in sync with your microchips. You issue a command for the type of lift and it self-adjusts. Bob, you want to go first?”

  “Why not? Any particular order?”

  Hardie shook his head. “Whatever order you want to do them.”

  “Ok,” Bob replied, approaching the steel bar. “Deadlift.”

  Dropping on the runners, it hovered ten inches from the floor. Clasping the metal in both hands, Bob moved his legs apart and then bent down, keeping his back straight. Grunting, he hoisted the weight until he was stood upright then dropped it.

  “Very good,” confirmed the observer. “Seven hundred and eighty-two pounds.”

  “Not too bad,” Bob nodded. “What’s the entry level for a D-class operative?”

  “Six hundred and fifty,” Smith answered.

  “Well hot damn, that’s a good start.”

  Hardie turned to Andy. “Next?”

  “Sure.”

  Taking up the same stance as his friend, he readied himself. The veins on each forearm sprouted from the surface of the skin, sending blood to eager muscles. Tensing his back, Andy roared and pulled at the resistant bar. Reaching a standing position, he let go of the massive weight, head swimming.

  “Make sure you breathe through the lifts or you’ll pass out,” cautioned Hardie.

  “I know, Sarge. It was stupid.”

  “Weight?” Smith asked the observer.

  Tapping at the tablet, she frowned and tapped at it again. Raising her eyebrows in shock, she replied, “One thousand, two hundred and two pounds.”

  “Holy shit,” Smith muttered.

  “Is that right?” Hardie asked as the soldiers congratulated Andy.

  “I’ve double checked. It’s genuine.”

  “Fuck me,” he blurted.

  “This is unprecedented,” exclaimed the lead observer. “Master Sergeant, would you mind if we carried out the other lifts in a private suite?”

  “Not at all. Do you need me?”

  “No, we’ll be fine. I want to run some further diagnostics on Mr Burton to see what’s caused this sudden spike.”

  “He’s all yours.”

  “Right this way, sir.”

  Andy exchanged a bemused look with the others then followed. “You aren’t going to probe me, are you?”

  Glancing over his shoulder, one of the observers replied with a grin, “No. Well, not yet, anyway.”

  “I normally insist on dinner and a movie first.”

  “I’m sure we can accommodate that. I’m Dan, by the way.”

  “Good to meet you,” Andy replied, shaking his hand. “Was the lift really unheard of? I could probably go higher if I’m honest.”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out, Mr Burton.”

  The private suite was fitted with a single bar set and the other tests confirmed the extraordinary power lurking in the thick muscles.

  “Shoulder press, seven hundred and twenty-two pounds. Bench press, six hundred and seventy-eight pounds. Leg press, one thousand, three hundred and twelve pounds. Remarkable,” muttered Dan.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Dan, staring at the data screen. “I’d like to take some blood and tissue over the next day or so and check for any anomalies.”

  “Wait! Anomalies? Like I’m abnormal?”

  “Only in the sense that you’re stronger than any human that ever lived. If we could harness the genetic sequence that’s allowed this, we can splice it into every other subject we clone. It’s a massive leap forward.”

  “Won’t the mutants be able to use me too?”

  “If you fall in battle, yes. We don’t have any other option than hoping it keeps us a tiny margin in front of the infected.”

  “I’ll try not to get killed.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Dan replied.

  “Am I done here?”

  “Yes, of course. You’re free to go. I’ll be in touch about the samples.”

  “Thanks, Dan.”

  Leaving the suite, the rest of his squad was waiting patiently, eager for the results. Andy broke down the weights lifted. Wide eyed and mouths gaping, they gasped their amazement.

  “Remind me not to arm wrestle you,” said Bob.

  “I’d still take you,” teased Zip.

  “I’m sure you would.”

  Hardie congratulated them on a job well done. Filled with pride, he and Smith looked over the members of green barracks. For once they may have been blessed with a cohort that could do some lasting damage.

  “You’ve got two hours to get some chow then we get wasted! Dismissed!”

  Chapter 7

  “How’re you feeling, Sarge?” Zip asked Master Sergeant Smith.

  “Old, Downing. Very, very old.”

  “If you want we can get you a pipe and slippers from the quartermaster.”

  “Cheeky bastard,” he replied. “But I’m about forty years past a pipe and slippers. I feel ready for my pine box and a long nap six feet under.”

  “Don’t be so morbid, Sarge.”

  “It’s hard not to be. This helps,” he said, passing over a glass of yellow liquid.

  “What is it?” Zip held the glass to her face, staring into the swirling alcohol. Small particles floated within the brew.

  “It’s best you don’t know. Here, take these to the others.”

  “Is it ok for our stomachs?”

  “Yeah. It’s bloody awful but it’s never caused any harm.”

  Andy and Zip loaded a tray and moved back into the rec room. The clack of pool balls echoed from the walls until the booze was presented. Coughs and splutters replaced the crack of resin on resin.

  “It tastes like diesel,” said Bob, nodding appreciatively and taking another draw.

  “It tastes like off diesel,” Andy gasped as his tongue went numb.

  “I’m not even going to ask how you know what that tastes like,” Zip muttered, shuddering involuntarily from the acrid tang.

  “I’d like to raise a toast,” declared Hardie, climbing onto one of the tables, knocking cards all over the floor. Raising his glass, he said, “To Green Platoon, arguably the most badass crew of mutant killers this side of the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “To Green Platoon!”

  Smith appeared with two large jugs and topped the drinks up. Mo gratefully took a fruit cordial in place of the alcohol.

  “Thanks, Sarge.”

  “Enjoy it. That stuff is harder to get hold of than my
special cocktail.”

  “Tell us more about the world,” begged Loco as they settled in. “It can’t be as bad as the empress says.”

  “It is. Everything’s gone.”

  “You’re still here.”

  “Ok, nearly everything is gone. We control such a small part of the world compared to the infected.”

  Hardie started folding out fingers as he listed their meagre territory. “Southern England as far as the Chiltern Mountains. Northern Virginia all the way to Vermont and inland to Ohio. California, Nevada and as far north as Portland, Oregon.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “There could be more, but we have no way of knowing. Word was the Chinese were fighting back.”

  “Can’t you send a drone to check?”

  “We’ve tried, but they get pulled down before they can find anything. The last time we attempted it was thirty years ago.”

  “It must be so frustrating!”

  “You’re telling me. If anyone else is out there we could really use the help.”

  “Except from the Scavs,” grumbled Smith.

  “Scavs?”

  “Wasteland scavengers. We call them Scavs.”

  “How the hell do they survive out there?”

  “We don’t really know. They’re as secretive about their methods as they are extortionate with their prices.”

  “Can’t you just… ask them hard?” Andy suggested.

  “Empress Verena won’t countenance it. We benefit with goods that are impossible to get anymore, and they benefit with weapons and food.”

  “Why would anyone want to try and eke a living among the ruins and monsters?” Loco wondered, staring to slur her words.

  “They say it’s safer,” Hardie replied with a scornful snort.

  “Crazy bastards.”

  Smith refilled his glass. “Who’s crazier? Them hiding, or us sat here lit up like a beacon. The ones I’ve seen have been alive for decades, so they’re doing something right.”

  “Can they have children?”

  “I’ve not seen any kids, but some of the women have been well covered up. I could’ve sworn I saw pregnancy bumps beneath the rags.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  “Mostly people who can’t hack the life within the walls. Living in constant fear of attack can break the strongest person. Deserters from the Sovereign Guard make up a lot of the number as well.”