The Vault

Ch 3 of my evolving story. I've had some very blunt criticism from people connected to the biz, in reference to the 'been there, done that' quality of this work. But I still feel it has two feet to stand on. This is VERY much a first draft, should it b

     At his insistence, I begin to unbutton my torn shirt and inspect the wounds underneath. The skin covering the ribs on my right side is scratched a bit, not too bad. The left half is another story altogether; that damn roach's legs had delved deep into my flesh, leaving me with a jagged battle-scar drawn down my torso.
     “You need to see a doctor, if that cut doesn't get irradiated and stitched up within the hour...” He looks to the west, up at the fiery red setting sun, and sighs, “We need to get moving.”
      “What the hell was that thing?!”
      “A Watch-Roach, biologically engineered by a group known as the Watchers. They control this land, the roaches are just some of their pawns. Do you see it's antennae?”
      The big bug's oversized head had twin antennae sprouting from it. One was broken and shooting sparks every second or two. It's legs and remaining in-tact antenna were still twitching, fighting against the inevitable with all its might. Gradually it's thrashing appendages slowed and came to an abrupt halt. The sparks stopped too.
      “We need to get moving”, he repeated.
      “Not until you start giving me some answers, starting with who you are, and why you brought me here!” My voice sounds more strained than I want it to, the chaos is starting to get to me.
      “Calm down” he said smoothly “You will learn everything you need to in tim-”
      “Time's already been thrown out the window! I've just been mauled by a robot-roach and you expect me to follow you like a sheep?!” My face is getting redder by the second.
      “Listen to me!” He commands, shooting his hand onto my shoulder and squeezing it. Hard.                 “Where there is one Watch-Roach, there are thousands, your breakdown will have to wait. I have promised to explain everything to you, and I will stay true to those words.” His grip began to soften “I am a lot of things, a liar is not one of them.”
       My heart's pulse starts to fall back into it's speed limit, the pounding in my ears loses it's strength. More than anything, I begin to trust this strange man. My only friend in this dangerous, post-apocalyptic wasteland.
       We start walking again, past the splattered roach and between heaps of debris. These mounds of metal and rusty machinery look as sturdy as a house made of cards; a wayward sneeze would probably send one of them crumbling to the ground. Some of these have thick trails of smoke snaking up into the clogged atmosphere. All have a shimmering surrounding them, like the heat haze emanating off a car in the peak of summer. And yet it can't be more than 50 degrees out here.
       “So where are we going?” I ask after a reasonable pause.
       “The Vault, a safe haven for my people, it's entrance lies not too far ahead.”
       “Your people?”
        “Yes, after civilization as you knew it splintered and scattered, like-minded people naturally began to group together. Scientists, doctors, artists, many progressives of all descriptions made their way to various Vaults. The authoritarian, power-hungry warmongers, and all those who fell under their spell went into their own bunkers. Eventually evolving into the Watchers. They live by their rules, and we live by ours. The Travelers wish to begin anew, to replenish the earth that has been devastated by misuse and corruption. The Watchers believe it to be our destiny to ruin our homes, and wish to spread their disease across the cosmos. They've dug themselves so deep in a hole of their own making that they've forgotten what the surface looks like.”
        “And your people's time travel schemes are aimed at stopping this from happening in the first place, right?”
        “Exactly” He smiled a bit at my understanding.
         We trek for about 10 more minutes, eventually coming to the crumbling stone bridge that I remember from my time, it had been right outside my old neighborhood. It is still somewhat in tact, very much worse for wear, but still usable. Feelings of nostalgia are quickly stifled when my heart leaps into my throat. I hear the familiar whirring of the metal-ball thing that I had seen just before traveling to this future. The man shepherding me to the Vault quietly tells me that this is a scout, another tool of the Watchers. He nimbly runs towards the bridge, and ducks underneath it. I follow suit, but trip over a wayward rock and land on my chest. Falling on my bloody left side, to add insult to injury (and dirt to a gaping wound).  
         I try to get to my feet as quickly as I can, but a yellow spotlight is thrown on me, followed by a quick series of beep beep beep's. Getting to my feet, I'm blinded by several flashes from the sentry's mechanical eye. These flashes powder my vision with bright polka-dots. I can barely see a thing.
         Then I hear the scuttling of many feet, and a stiff groaning coming from the heaps of collapsed buildings.
          A strong hand grabs me by my sore chest and hoists me onto it's shoulders. The Traveler did this as briskly as if he had picked up a pillow. He is much stronger than I thought. With one hand securing my legs to his shoulders, the other was shooting bright stuff at a big brown blob coming out of one of the smoldering mounds.
          As my vision recovers from the sentry's snapshots, I see the approaching mass take on more definition. It's Watch-roaches. Hundreds of them. He shoots some flares at them, small bursts of flame erupt on their unlucky targets. Turning and running, he starts to haul a*s (mine, to be precise) towards the Vault.
         He repeats the procedure of throwing his hand behind his head (right above my own), and peppering the army of bugs with flares. The sentry is coasting through the air, parallel to us; he notices this and slams a couple fiery rounds right into the watch-head logo on it's side. It is encompassed in licks of flame, flies out of control while singing an alarm sound, and crashes into the marching roaches.
         I know we're there before he tells me. I had been up this very street hundreds of times. He turns, shoots some flares into the scuttling army, and races down my former driveway. The remains of my house look just like every other structure here; broken and decrepit, smoke drifting out here and there.  
         He runs past the collapsed garage and into what's left of my backyard. Amazingly, my Grill-Master still looks in perfect shape. He briskly walks towards it, grabs the handle, and jerks the hood open.
         Instantly, my ears pop as if someone blew a bubble inside my skull; it reverberats throughout my body. This was different from the last two times; we didn't travel as much as move. Instead of feeling forced through a straw at mac speed, I seem to shift sideways; just as fast, but not in the same direction.
        As usual, my eyes are clamped shut when I start to come to. Muffled voices are arguing next to me.  
        “Couldn't ya have been a little more discreet?” a nasally voice badgers, splitting the silence.
         “It had to be done, and it is of no consequence” the voice of the Traveler responded, as calm as ever.
         “Jeez Julian, you only led a battalion of roach-soldiers right to our Transport Key, and got spotted by a sentry. 'no consequence' indeed...”
        “What's done is done, just give me the booster and I'll be out of your hair.”
        “Fine”
        “And Michael, he needs a shot as well”
        “Okay” he said, handing a syringe to Julian and getting another for me.
        “You'll feel a little prick”
        I did. My eyes jumped open as he jabbed the needle into my arm. As my vision slid back into focus, I see I'm in the medical ward of the Vault, something of a cross between space-age and steam-punk. The man administering the needle had a tuft of uncontrollable black hair creeping across his forehead, which he wiped behind his ear when he finished with the injection. He nose was slightly crooked and his eyes were a little too big for my liking. He had clammy skin and sweaty hands.
       I didn't trust him.
       And never would.

 

Reviews

[Norma J. Jessee]

I love this story Alton. As far as the been there done that. In truth is there anything under the sun that hasn't been done before? I am an avid reader of science fiction , and fantasty and I haven't seen anything like this myself. Remember the story of Dr. Seuss who tried getting his book published through many different publishers. No one would publish him. He was told that no one would read his books. So he self published and look what happened. This is good, don't let anyone tell you it isn't. I read writer's like R.A. Salvatore, J.R. Tolkien, Shanna Abe, Robin Hobb,etc. I have thousands of books and if I'm reading you, then you're good. You're holding my interest. And like Waronldiocy said. The only problem I have is that I have to wait for the next chapter. So keep on writing my friend. I love this.

[WaronIdiocy]

The only problem I have for this story is that I have to wait for the next chapter. This is really good stuff. Now stop reading this and finish the next chapter.