Revelation
Authors: Kyle West
Tags: #the wasteland chronicles, #dystopian, #alien invasion, #post apocalyptic, #science fiction, #adventure, #ZOMbies
Revelation
The Wasteland Chronicles, Volume 4
by Kyle West
Published by Kyle West, 2013.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
REVELATION
First edition. October 8, 2013.
Copyright © 2013 Kyle West.
Written by Kyle West.
Also by Kyle West
The Wasteland Chronicles
Apocalypse
Origins
Evolution
Revelation
Watch for more at
Kyle West’s site
.
Table of Contents
Prologue
It’s been three months since the fall of Bunker 108. In that time, I’ve survived raiders, gangs, empires, cold, hunger, and monsters. By all rights, I should be dead. We all should be. It seems impossible that we aren’t. Impossible that we are still fighting this.
I just wonder how much longer we can last.
The odds are stacked against us. At every turn, the xenovirus gets more deadly. The number of Blights in the Wasteland has tripled. The monsters it creates are more dangerous. Crawlers roam the dark, cold nights in packs, killing any they find. Anyone without a wall, without a home, is as good as dead.
The Great Blight has expanded one hundred miles further west over the past two months alone – a rate which will see the entire Wasteland covered by this time next year.
And, somehow, we are expected to stop all this. The four of us are expected to be the world’s saviors. We are all too young for this job. I’m sixteen. Makara is nineteen, Samuel twenty-three, and Anna is seventeen. That’s too much weight to rest on our shoulders – hell, too much weight for
anyone’s
shoulders. Maybe, we aren’t kids anymore. Responsibility is enough to make an adult of anyone.
As leader of the New Angels, Makara is now in charge of the group. Samuel still leads the mission against the Great Blight, but as far as building the group, Makara calls the shots. First on her agenda is finding the Exiles, Marcus’s gang, somewhere in the Boundless. After we find them, they can lead us to the Raiders. Or at least, that’s what we hope.
With the fall of Raider Bluff to the xenoswarm, we could only hope that’d been Char’s thought process. Overrun by crawlers and Howlers and worse besides, we could only
hope
he had laid down his pride to seek the help of the brother he’d exiled over a decade before.
This is no longer a time for enmity and blood. The power of the Great Blight grows by the day, and the Great Dragon of Raider Bluff has yet to make his next move.
Yes – two months after we had left it, the Wasteland is a far more dangerous place. And the Wasteland is only the beginning. If we do not find some way to stop the Great Blight, the entire world will be swallowed by it.
With Raider Bluff gone, it makes sense for Vegas to be next on the Great Blight’s list. That city is the closest to the Great Blight, and that’s where all our roads lead – whether we are Angel, Exile, or Raider. With the alliance between Augustus of the Empire and Carin Black of Los Angeles, it’s up to us to grab whoever is left and take the fight to Los Angeles – taking out Carin Black before Augustus can arrive with his legions – before the worst of winter is upon us.
But before we can do that, we have to find the Exiles. We have to find the Raiders.
It is our newest challenge. It is hard to tell whether this will be easier, or harder, than what we did in the Empire. Now back in the cold, bare reality of the Wasteland, I have a feeling it will be harder. Our mission is getting a bunch of people who don’t like each other to work together. We have to convince them to leave the safety of their walls, strike out across the Wasteland in the dead of winter, and take out Black and the Reapers before Augustus arrives.
We have about two months to do it. Augustus’s army is far – but it could be here in as soon as two months. Winter might help us, but we are planning for the worst. Our success as a group depends on being prepared for the worst. Augustus said he was going to be here in two months. We will take him at his word.
Even if such preparation seems impossible, we have to try. The entire world, literally, depends on it.
I would say it is a lot of pressure, but we are used to that by now. We are a well-honed team. We each know our strengths and weaknesses. We have two spaceships at our disposal, meaning we can jump between points quickly.
Even though we have new capabilities, so does the xenoswarm. The dragons are a game-changer that none of us could have predicted, and I’m sure they’re not the last thing the Great Blight will throw at us.
First, we have to deal with the human opposition. Until everyone is standing together and on the same page, we can’t make our attack on the Great Blight. We can’t even protect ourselves from Augustus and Carin Black. If we do not unite, and unite soon, everything will fall.
And that’s exactly what the Voice in Ragnarok Crater wants.
Chapter 1
Makara was still flying. It was night, and
Odin
hummed all round us, sailing through the air at three hundred miles an hour. She stared ahead as if her willpower alone could pierce the veil of darkness cloaking the Boundless below. Everyone else was sleeping. Anna dozed in the copilot’s chair, her head tilted to the side. Makara did nothing to wake her, taking the burden of both piloting and copiloting upon herself. It was very Makara-like.
Behind his sister, Samuel also slept. I was fighting my own battle with weariness, a battle I was sure to lose. It was two in the morning, and Makara had yet to cease her search for Marcus and the Exiles. This had been the story of the last three days, and still her reddened eyes scanned the desert floor with
Odin’s
two floodlights, revealing nothing but dune, hill, mesa, and the sudden pink of a patch of xenofungus. Periodically, Makara glanced at the LCD, which displayed topography, speed, and
Odin’s
location. We were somewhere in central Arizona.
I felt it was all useless. This time-consuming search was eating away at us all, and we could only take so much before it was time to examine other options. Samuel had told Anna and me as much in private earlier today. He dared not tell Makara; not yet. And with each day that passed with no results, no clues, she became edgier.
She still believed the Wanderer had wanted her to search here, when all seemed lost. And certainly, everything
did
seem lost. It was the four of us, and Ashton, expecting to stop an entire army that would soon be thundering its way north. And not only
that
army, but the army of xenolife readying itself to strike from the east. Everything depended on swelling our ranks, and all of us could feel the clock ticking.
With a curse, Makara leaned back in her chair. She sighed, shutting her eyes. It was the first time she had broken her concentration for hours.
Odin
flew on in a straight line, due east, about a thousand feet above the surface.
I closed my own eyes. My conscious mind faded under the weight of drowsiness. Makara’s voice snapped me to attention.
“Let’s call it a night.”
She slammed the controls, the sudden sound doing nothing to wake either Samuel or Anna. Out in the Wastes, both of them would have been up in a heartbeat at the disturbance. But
Odin
was a safe place, and there were allowances here that didn’t exist on the surface. Makara returned to the controls, angling the ship toward the surface. Again, the change in trajectory did nothing to shake either Samuel or Anna from their slumber. How I was still awake, I didn’t know. Even a week out of Nova Roma, I was exhausted from the entire ordeal. Makara’s side, which had been injured in the
Coleseo
, was still tender, but healing. But our time in the Empire had taken it out of all of us.
I would have thought sitting all day in a ship would be relaxing, but it wasn’t. We had to stay alert, for either the Exiles, the Raiders, or the ever-present threat of the xenodragons. None of those had ambushed us – at least, not yet – but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t at some point.
Makara guided
Odin
down, toward the top of a mesa that rose above the desert floor, its massive shape shadowy in the darkness. The dunes below were discernable around the mesa, but just barely. Now that we were back in the Wasteland, the atmospheric dust from Ragnarok had returned. I was already missing the feel of the sun on my skin. The sunburns I had received while in Nova Roma were still peeling.
Odin
hovered, giving a tiny lift as it alighted atop the mesa. Powering off the ship, Makara unstrapped herself from her seat and immediately left the cockpit. Anna and Samuel slept on, oblivious to the fact that we had stopped. Samuel snored lightly, his head leaning back against the headrest. Anna’s head was still cocked to the side, a dribble of drool dripping from the corner of her mouth.
I touched her shoulder. “Hey. We’ve stopped.”
Her eyes fluttered open. She gave a nod, wiped her mouth, and unstrapped herself from the seat. She stood, and we left Samuel where he was, walking down the corridor toward the bunks in the back. I knew Anna would prefer sleeping in her own bunk, and would have been upset if I had left her in the copilot’s seat like that. Samuel, however, could probably sleep on a pile of rocks and not notice the difference.
When we got to the crew cabins, we were alone. Makara had appropriated the captain’s quarters off the galley to herself.
“Sleep tight,” I said, leaning in for a kiss.
She kissed me – not too enthusiastically, I must admit. She turned for her bunk, and I watched her lie down. Before she even covered herself with her blanket, her breathing became even with sleep. I’d always envied people with the ability to do that – fall asleep as if there
weren’t
a million things wrong with the world.
I sighed, turning for my own cabin, which I shared with Samuel. I lay down on my bunk, closing my eyes. The hum of the ship, on low power, lulled me to sleep, a sleep none too fitful.
***
The next day I awoke early, stepped out of bed, and got dressed. I ducked out the doorway, went through the galley, and headed to the kitchen. The air was cool in
Odin’s
metallic hull, automatic lights flashing on as I passed under them. I found the coffee pot and filled it with water, placing coffee grounds inside. Now back in civilization, I had the means to nurse my caffeine addiction with Skyhome’s own brew.
As the water heated and filtered through the grounds, I went to the fridge, grabbed some fresh grapefruit, and then opened the cabinet to get some granola, the latter sealed in a reusable, airtight bag. By the time I’d prepared my breakfast, the coffee was done. I’d made a whole pot, in case someone else wanted some later. The resources provided by Skyhome were almost as good as what I’d had back in Bunker 108.
I grabbed both my food and coffee, and walked to the table in the galley. I sat, the first steaming sip of coffee warming me up. The stuff was like an elixir. Though Makara and Anna liked to sleep until the last possible moment before we left (in fact, Makara usually just rolled out of bed and headed straight to the pilot seat), I liked to be up an hour earlier than everyone else to have some alone time. It was great to have the entire ship to myself, to be alone with my thoughts, my food, my coffee.
After downing the last of my coffee and finishing off my grapefruit and granola, I got up and headed for the blast door. I pressed the button. The door slid open, letting in a rush of frigid, dry wind. I stepped outside, ignoring the extreme cold. It was winter now, and it showed in every way imaginable. The darkness was near absolute, and though I could not see it, I knew the cliff’s edge was just a few feet away from the edge of the boarding ramp. Nevertheless, I stood on the ramp, weathering the harsh wind as it buffeted against me. I peered into the sky, trying to discern where the moon was. On the western sky, there was a milky glow of cloud. Such was the effect of the meteor fallout – we all might as well have been in a cave deep in the heart of the Earth.
I took out my digital watch, and lighted it up. I went to the temperature tab. It was minus nineteen Celsius. Two below zero Fahrenheit.