Jacked (5 page)

“Ah, a false reading. Put him back in the group,” said Ludler.

If possible, the man’s face paled even more. He realized—just as everyone else in the group did—he had been tricked. Because of his cowardice, Angus and Jenson would be purified. He fell sobbing at the feet of some of his fellow workers and they backed away in disdain.

“What are your orders, Captain?” The lieutenant never took his eyes from the group while he spoke. They both realized now was the most dangerous time, once the captured realized they had been tricked and may not have anything left to lose.

Ludler pulled a small piece of tech from the leather pouch of his belt and handed it to the lieutenant. “Test them all again, for real this time. If you do not find any fixers, cut off one of their fingers as a reminder of their blasphemy.” Ludler turned, then stopped and spoke over his shoulder. “Burn the factory to the ground.” He began walking as he issued one final order. “And if anyone tries to stop you throw them inside and let them burn as well.”

#

“Captain?”

Ludler sat in what had been the factory manager’s office and stroked the box on the desk, his fingers caressing the wood, worn smooth over the years.

“Captain?”

He looked up, his attention brought back from whatever memories had filled it.

“Yes, Lieutenant Martinez.”

“Captain, we are almost ready for the purification.”

Ludler nodded and flipped back the lid. On folded cloth inside the box were four bands of metal about three inches wide, each hinged on one side and held shut on the other with a clip. Welded into the side of each was another metal loop.

It was not the bands that made most people pale and look away. It was not the streaks of black soot dulling the shine of the steel or the bits of char clinging to them like pieces of dried out, overcooked meat.

It was the smell.

As soon as Ludler opened the lid the room filled with the odor of burnt hair, a cloying scent but with a hint of charcoal.

It was the smell of death.

He took a rag and wiped down the inside of the bands until they gleamed in the light. The outside, however, he left untouched. Ludler had found from experience the soot and the remains served as a reminder of what would be done to people if they blasphemed against the Creator. Not that any of them would ever forget the other sights of the day.

Martinez left with the metal bands while Ludler washed his hands and changed into a clean uniform. He looked in the office’s private bathroom mirror to adjust his black beret. By the time he stepped from the bathroom another soldier had packed his clothes in a duffle and was taking them outside along with the box.

The smell of oil mixed with kerosene and gas filled his nose as he walked onto the factory floor. Ludler watched his soldiers use whatever they could find to prepare the building for destruction, piling chairs and benches, anything made of wood, near the walls and dousing them with flammable liquid. He was in no rush to leave. They could not set fire to the factory until after the purification ceremony, since they were using its electricity, so he took his time moving to the door, casting an appraising eye over the work. The building exterior was mostly steel siding and concrete but the interior would burn until all that remained was a smoldering shell.

Ludler walked outside. Just a sliver of light peeked above the buildings to the west. The sun flared against the gray sky, throwing its last rays of red and orange to brighten the gray and beat back the night for a few more minutes. But, like fighting against the Creator’s will, the sun would ultimately lose its struggle against the dark. He turned to face the lieutenant who was standing in front of a crowd of people, a mixture of the former factory workers and residents who lived near the facility.

“We are ready, Captain.” Martinez saluted, his closed right fist held tight against his chest.

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

Jenson and Angus were led forward, stripped to the waist and barefoot. Their arms were tied close to their bodies and their wrists were bound by Ludler’s metal bands. The two men were stopped in front of an old metal vat filled with water. Sometimes they used it to help the electricity do its job, so it was good to have some close. Ludler remembered a long purification without water. It had taken so long the smell of roasting flesh had been bad enough to make everyone hold their breath, including himself.

“You have been found guilty of blasphemy against the Creator,” said Ludler, his voice bouncing back from the building and carrying out over the crowd. “For the improper use of technology, you will be given purification and sent back to the way you came into the world. What say you?”

Tears rolled down Jenson’s face as he struggled against his ropes and the two men that held him. Gurgling sounds came from his throat but no words were in them. Angus, however, spit in Ludler’s direction.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said. “I ain’t gonna listen to no blog out of you. Might as well hard boot and get some rest.”

Ludler nodded and both men were blindfolded. Other soldiers approached with thick, industrial-sized power cords, stripped bare of insulation on one end, which they attached to the cuffs on the men’s wrists.

“Any last requests?”

Jenson continued to sob but Angus spoke in the direction of Ludler’s voice.

“I want a cigarette.”

Ludler nodded and a soldier stepped up, placed a cigarette in Angus’ mouth, and lit it with a match. After the man had taken several puffs Ludler raised his hand.

No one in the crowd spoke. The sounds of shuffling feet died away and even the wind slowed, stopping the rustling of the leaves in nearby trees. Jenson moaned once, breaking the silence.

Ludler dropped his hand.

Jenson screamed, doubling over backward in pain. He fell in the water, twitching violently from side to side while it hissed and splashed.

At the signal, the cigarette flew from Angus’ mouth, the tobacco flaming up like a small missile as it arched through the air. He did not scream but growled like a cornered animal, angry and frightened at the same time. A moment later he also dropped, writhing on the dirt and grass while his mustache and beard stubble smoldered.

The hair on Ludler’s arms raised as electricity filled the air. It crackled and popped, filling his ears even after the screams stopped. He checked his watch when the smell of cooking meat reached him and he gestured to Martinez, who nodded and cut the power.

The crowd behind Ludler was no longer silent. He heard some of them puking, some crying, and a few weak screams but no one cursed him or threatened revenge. No one uttered a single word.

Two soldiers wearing rubber gloves stepped forward. They rolled Jenson and Angus over, looking at their bodies carefully before gesturing to Martinez. The purification was complete.

The last of the sun disappeared and night fell. An orange glow grew in the factory windows and soon flames licked at the glass. Smoke poured out of openings and added more black to the sky, another layer blotting out the stars.

“Disperse the crowd, Lieutenant,” Ludler said as he watched the flames devour the factory. “When the cuffs have cooled enough to handle bring them to me.”

#

They had taken over what had once been a technical institute for training people to build and use technology. Ludler had grasped the irony of the situation and insisted on using the dorms and main cafeteria for his men whenever they traveled north into San Francisco.

For a while after The Crash, those visits had been few and far between. The great City by the Bay had been devastated by fire, which might have been a blessing in disguise. The number of people who had died—gone hard boot, as the kids called it—was unbelievably high because of the concentration of residents who were part of the Mind. The fires had cleansed wide swaths of the city, which controlled the threat of disease in the aftermath. Three years later an earthquake, bigger than any Ludler could remember before The Crash, had proved the Creator’s wrath, knocking down many of the remaining buildings near the coasts and collapsing the bridges.

But people weren’t ready to give it up. They had been rebuilding in the past few years and even more were migrating, traveling across the water in boats to bring whole city blocks back to life. That was why Ludler had turned his attention back to Frisco. The evil had been killed here once and it would not grow back under his watch.

He sat at one end of the cafeteria, finishing his supper. No one else sat next to him, although most of his officers were devouring their own meals just a few feet away. Ludler was so caught up in his thoughts he almost missed Martinez’s approach.

“Lieutenant, join me.” He gestured toward an empty chair. “Did you get anything to eat?”

“No, sir.” The young officer shuffled his weight back and forth while keeping his hands behinds his back. “Captain, we received a message.”

Ludler nodded while he wiped his mouth.

“Send the messenger to me.”

Martinez brought out a piece of paper from behind him and placed it on the table.

“The message came by telephone.”

Ludler stopped as he reached, his hand hovering above the message, recoiling while his fingers twitched. After a few seconds of hesitation he picked it up and began reading. A few seconds more he blinked and leaned back with his eyes wide.

“Tell the men we leave at first light for San Jose. Empty the garrison.” He looked back down at the message.

“Captain, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Ludler’s face spread wide with a grin.

“It’s from Father Eli. They may have found a fixer.”

Martinez sucked in a breath.

“A fixer? After this long?”

“Yes. See to the men and make sure my things are packed.” Martinez turned to leave, stopping when Ludler continued. “And, Lieutenant, make sure the purification cuffs are in my saddlebags.”

Chapter 7

The gray afternoon skies had turned black by the time Ludler dismounted. A soldier led his horse away, the bay’s coat dark with sweat. They had ridden hard to Palo Alto and, if it had been up to Ludler, he would have hopped on a fresh mount and ridden through the night to San Jose. But another message from Father Eli had reached him on the road, this time from a rider, ordering him to stop in the city before continuing after the fixer.

The doors to the home opened as he bounded up the stairs, the echo of footsteps behind him letting him know Martinez was close. Before he could tell the guards on duty he was expected Father Eli and a guard walked down the winding stairway toward him. He blinked in surprise at not needing to be announced.

“Brother Ned! You made good time.” Eli’s white hair waved in his hurried approach. “Thank the Creator you made it safely.”

Ludler bowed.

“Father Eli, I didn’t dare wait for something this important. Is it true?”

The preacher hesitated, looking more than his age of a sudden. He took Ludler by the elbow.

“Let’s talk in the study.”

They crossed the foyer and went down a short hallway before entering a room overlooking the city, scattered lights giving depth to the view below. Martinez and the guard stayed outside, shutting the door behind the two men.

“Yes, it’s true,” Eli said as he let go of Ludler’s arm and sat down on the couch. He gestured toward the chair opposite him. “At least as far as we can tell. He is the right age, fourteen or fifteen years-old.”

Ludler nodded.

“Who turned him in?”

“A student at Lynbrook High School. His father owns part of the local electric supplier.”

Ludler sat back in the chair and tapped his chin with a forefinger.

“How do we know this isn’t just some petulant boy getting even with a rival for stealing his girlfriend? It’s been so long since we found the last one.”

“We don’t,” Eli said with a shrug. “Not yet…”

The words hung between them.

“But there’s something you’re not telling me.” Ludler felt the words roll out of his mouth and the room grew warmer.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up, Ned.” Father Eli leaned forward. “The boy doesn’t go to school at Lynbrook. He doesn’t go to school anywhere as far as the contact knows.”

“That would explain why we haven’t found him before. His parents must have hidden him from us.”

“True, that could be it.” Eli settled back on the couch and smiled. “They say this boy finds things, things that don’t usually work anymore.”

Ludler felt the breath pulled from his lungs.

“And?” he whispered, his voice barely enough to carry the short distance between them.

“And the boy is at least partly Asian. Most likely AmJap.”

Ludler felt lightheaded. The room spun around his chair, faster and faster, until he finally closed his eyes.

“There were a handful of people on the Mind project that were Asian-American,” he said once he felt the spin slow. “But all of them died or went zom.”

“It just means that an aunt or uncle, a grandparent, even a neighbor, raised the boy.”

“Ahhh! Dammit!” Ludler leaped to his feet and paced to the far wall and back before stopping in front of the couch and pointing a finger at Father Eli. “This would be a lot easier if it hadn’t been for that traitor! When he burned down the Mind facility on campus he destroyed all the records and cost us years of searching. We don’t know how they were chosen. We don’t even know how many fixers are out there!”

Father Eli’s face remained calm as he rose and put his hand on Ludler’s shoulder. But the soldier saw the glint in the preacher’s eyes.

“Find him,” he said, each word clipped. “Find him for me, Ned.”

Ludler nodded but stopped as a piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

“If he’s there I’ll find him. But you could have given me all this in a message. What’s the real reason you wanted to talk to me before I look for the boy?”

“I want him alive.”

Ludler blinked.

“But the law…
your
law…?”

“I know. All fixers must be purified,” Father Eli said, letting go of Ludler’s shoulder and waving his hand. “And he will be. But I need to talk to him first. I need to know what he knows. This boy, this fixer, may know where other ones are. You see, Ned, we can use him to find more of them. After we’ve learned as much as we can you can purify him in the greatest ceremony anyone has ever seen.”