Sondranos: The Narrative of Leon Bishop (6 page)

“
We need to
keep pushing it forward. The connection isn’t severed,” she says,
instead.

“
Is there
some other way to cut it?”

“
Not unless
you have a directed EMP generator on hand.”

The man looks at her and shakes
his head. He makes a movement that reminds Annalise of police
officers searching for their badge, and she suddenly feels intense
distaste for the man. “Other pants, sorry.”

She stifles a smile, and they
both push forward.

Again, it starts moving.

A bit of gravel crunches under
the wheels.

She sets her back against the
truck bed latch and pushes with her legs. She can’t help it, the
reprimand falls off her tongue. “Why the hell were you carrying a
truck full of explosives? You do know those things are
illegal.”

“
Not plain
explosives. Highly explosive rounds and a few guns. I’m
transporting them to the detonation yards,” he grunts.

The sound of screaming and a
slight jerk of the truck forward startles her. It isn’t normal
screaming – a high pitched wail from overhead shudders in her chest
and freezes her heart. She stumbles to her knees. Instead of
standing, she looks up; her companion hasn’t fallen, but he does
the same. Darts streak into the atmosphere, exiting the cover of
clouds now blanketing above the city. First one, then a dozen more.
They circle the city. Some head to the West, others to the South.
Annalise draws a mental line on the map of Sondranos. To the South
is the military base. West is in her direction – suburbia.

“
Who would
attack us?” the man asks.

Annalise keeps silent.

A dart turns their way. Its
silver glints in tiny specks of sunlight poking through the city
smoke. Annalise tries to see the mother-ship, but can only see blue
above.

“
We have to
leave this behind,” Annalise says. “Let it blow, it’s all going to
go that way anyway.”

“
No. I have
to get paid,” the man yells, and pushes harder.

She can tell that his mind has
jumped to the next logical assumption.

All this was just a
distraction.

“
How much do
you want to bet that ship is flying towards us with ‘making peace’
on its roster?” Annalise stops and sets her hand on his
shoulder.

The man doesn’t turn around. He
keeps pushing.

Annalise sets both hands on him
and pulls him around.

He slips and lands knee-first
on the road. His gaze turns momentarily to the sky.

“
Those look
like Aeronautics escape pods,” the man says, muttering like someone
had just wiped his brain clear of all emotion. He’s right. The dart
looks more like a bullet flying at low speed when it turns. Solid,
jerky movements convince her that control is minimal behind the
wheel. The darts have no windows to speak of and only a stream of
exhaust showing its flight path. “That’s impossible. Those haven’t
been in use for about four hundred years,” he says.

Annalise notices the priest
coming towards them from the corner of her eye. His robes kick
about his body. He moves at a brisk pace, no more than a jog. He
waves his arms at the two.

The man with the explosive
truck is watching the dart, dumbfounded. Annalise instantly
connects that the priest is coming from the Abbey next to the
terminal. The priest comes closer – his eyes are wide and he wipes
sweat from his brow onto his pants.

The man pushing the truck
scrambles to his feet and runs to the passenger side door. He
climbs in and struggles, reaching something Annalise can’t see even
though she has an idea of what it might be.

Annalise doesn’t know which
direction to go – to the priest or with the man? She recalls him
mimicking a police officer and heads for the priest to warn him
away. By then, the dart is even closer. The scream is louder, like
wind through a tunnel. She can see something bright glowing near
the centre. The dart shakes slightly against the wind before
firing. Small bursts explode like light bulbs from the barrels set
within the front. The bullets – if she can even call them that –
hit with the impact of small meteorites. Dirt, pavement, and grass
plumes into the air. Annalise dives to the ground, covering her
head

They hit the bed of the
truck,

KA-DING, KA-DING, KA-DING

. Bullets clamour against the
cabin, piercing the body without any effort.

Two land in the bed while one
pierces the roof.

When the clinging stops,
Annalise turns to face the truck. The man sprawls out, nearly
collapsing out of the seat. He’s been hit in the arm; blood courses
through his tee-shirt. As he struggles to turn, Annalise notices
the rifle. He points it at the dart and begins firing.

The priest reaches Annalise at
the moment pride starts to settle in her stomach. Always fight
back, no matter the odds. She wants to join the man. Anger has
begun powering through her veins. She doesn’t want to know the
whole story; she wants to make the attackers die. Preferably
slowly.

The priest stops her as she
stands. “What is he doing?”

“
What do you
think?” Annalise scans the location of the dart before heading
towards the truck. The priest grabs her shirt and pulls her to him;
Annalise’s gut reaction is to rear back and hit him. The priest
keeps his hold on her shirt, so when he sprawls backwards, she
falls too.

“
I will not
let you kill yourself, Miss,” the priest yells as they tumble
together, awkwardly.

Out of her periphery she hears
the man firing. Small balls of white energy propel outwards,
surrounding by the crack of propulsion. After a dozen or so shots,
the man stops firing. He pulls out the chamber and reloads with a
round he pulls from his pocket. The dart swivels around and screams
back into another strafing run.

KA-DING, KA-

A bullet catches the engine and
ignites.

There’s the spark.

It catches the engine and sends
a pulse through the truck. A crack in the pavement streaks out like
lightning from both ends of the truck as the strip beneath the
pavement burns like incendiary paper. Smoke bleeds through cracks
in the pavement, steam rising up as far as Annalise can see. At the
truck, fire plumes upwards and the dart dives through the
conflagration. Annalise watches the dart. A small trickle of black
smoke bleeds from a point below the dart’s thruster. It bucks and
weaves back towards the city. At least he took a chunk out of it
first, she thinks. She doesn’t consider that she could have been
killed in that explosion until afterwards. She doesn’t need to look
to know that his body is charred beyond recognition, scattered
across the roadside with the rest of his truck.

“
We have to
get out of here,” she says to the priest.

“
I agree
wholeheartedly,” the priest says. “I know a place we can
go.”

Annalise
silenced herself
with a
snap. I could imagine what happened
next.

“
I’m pretty
sure they were just cleaning up resistance,” Annalise said after a
moment of silence. “Making way for ground troops.”

“
Why?”

“
They went
for the weapons, not the people. At least, that’s how it
seemed.”

Davion clapped his hands
together. The noise brought the attention of the room back to him.
Melanie’s knees popped as she stood. Her features had resumed that
sunken look.

“
We need to
leave,” Davion whispered. It was still loud enough to bounce off
the walls. We either hadn’t heard any more detonations, or the
darts were busy in other areas. Annalise looked at me.

“
We can’t
head south,” Annalise said.

“
No. North,”
said Davion.

“
I’m fine
staying here,” Melanie mumbles.

“
They haven’t
bothered to touch the Abbey,” Davion turned to Annalise. “Am I
correct?”

“
Yes.”

“
That stands
to reason they are only going after people. Or at the very least,
they are respectful of religious foundations.”

“
Maybe they
just haven’t hit us yet,” Annalise said.

“
Rules of
extinction don’t really apply when it begins,” I said.

“
Nobody could
make the human race extinct,” Melanie responded. “Not
now.”

“
I suggest we
head to my commune,” Davion continued. “It’s in the north, just on
the edge of the crags.”

“
Why?”

“
The
landscape provides natural protection. It’s safe, and I know that
it will remain so. There are even ancient tunnels dug into the side
allowing for surface protection. We can hide there for months with
the provisions my people grow to maintain stability.”

“
How much
faith are you willing to put on that?” I asked.

“
Faith is my
business, young man.”

“
I’m in,”
Melanie said. Davion’s eyed widened and she looked at him with a
‘what did you expect’ glare. Make the best of what you get,
especially if it results in something you’ve always wanted. I
suppose, to him, the sudden reversal was a surprise. He extended
his hand to her and she took it. She could hide in the pursuit of
her father for as long as Davion allowed it.

“
There, we
will have shelter and food,” he continued.

“
What if it’s
been destroyed too?” Annalise asked.

“
Then the
mercy of God’s will should have us dead before we arrive,” he
said.

I surveyed Davion in that
moment. He stood, breathing hard. The man who’d been brought in
crumpled against a strange woman’s side was no more. Davion was
proud, faithful, and strong again. Had he gotten it from the
drink?

I could imagine Daniel standing
next to me. ‘That’s what you should be like. That’s the kind of
person who’d fight to keep his program, who wouldn’t be afraid to
admit when things are going wrong,’ he would have said.

“
Well, if
we’re going to walk to our deaths, first I propose a drink,”
Annalise picked up both bowls, walked over to the cask, and then
proceeded to fill both up. “One each. For nerves. Or
faith.”

I joined her. Melanie slowly
made her way to the tapped cask and Davion followed.

One by one, Annalise filled up
one of the bowls and in turns we swallowed as much as we could
before needing to take a breath. I felt it calm me, burning down my
throat as my stomach insisted I give it food to handle as well. The
aftertaste allowed me to ignore my shaking hands and the sweat
beading on my forehead. I took a second bowl, and so did everyone
else.

Sondranos had
turned
into a
wasteland faster than I could have thought possible. The
destruction was masterful. Only those who relied on their instincts
of protection had been able to stand up and fight back; however,
their plan had included that into the equation. When we left the
Abbey, we entered desolation. The terminal had caught fire and
slowly collapsed to the ground, so we didn’t head back in that
direction. The awning over the receiving area had tumbled down like
a deflated circus tent.

Tracks in the grass followed
away from civilized life, away from the landing strip where the
shuttle fire had extinguished itself. I assumed that was towards
the road. We skirted a small rectory attached to the Abbey. The
Abbey and all its buildings still stood untouched after the initial
shattering of the windows.

I’d hoped Davion had looked
inside to find the boy, even though I knew the answer was plain.
The boy wasn’t here. Not a single other person was in sight. As we
left the Abbey behind, nobody asked where everyone else should have
been.

Chapter
Four:

Belovore

We walked
until noon had
come and gone. We kept our
eyes and ears alert while listening for the darts. I still hadn’t
seen one, so I followed Annalise assuming she’d recognize the sound
first. I felt as safe as the revolutionaries waiting for Paul
Revere to announce the coming slaughter. Melanie stuck behind
Davion, who led the group.

“
Without a
vehicle, we can get there in over a day. Provided the Lord gives us
the strength to maintain a steady pace,” he said.

Annalise bit back her words,
about to respond to his comment. Instead she said, “roadways are
burnt out within a few kilometres anyway. Should be okay the
further we get out – driveable, if not powered by the city.”

A loud clattering caused me to
spin around. I caught sight of the Abbey miniaturized in the
distance and the terminal now behind it. As we walked further, and
disappeared over the road’s steady decline from Sondranos proper, I
couldn’t help but think of the terminal as a giant pile of burned
leaves. I saw a small declining road leading in another direction,
one with a charred truck and spider-web cracks in the road that
confirmed Annalise’s story. I turned back around, choosing instead
to watch the ground and hug the curb with the heels of my shoes.
Further up the road and we’d be unable to see the Terminal, Abbey
and Annalise’s standing ground. Astride the pavement, thick patches
of transplanted Montana grass had faded from the soil, replaced by
a dirt and sand mixture that reminded me of walking over a dried
pond. Small patches of grass sprung up all over the landscape.