Mike Stackpole - Ghost Book One - The Earth Transformed

Hell Razor didn’t like it. “What the fuck is this shit?”

He raised his pistol and squeezed off three rounds straight up. High above us we heard the tinkling of glass and some of the stars went out. A few seconds later the glass rained down on us along with a dusting of plaster.

“Well, that answers that question,” said Angie.

“Not entirely,” said the metallic voice. Now it was coming from a nearby bush. “This facility was created in order to develop new breeds of humans, animals, and plants able to thrive on an earth where unforeseen circumstances had drastically changed the air and environment for the worse. It was one of a number of contingency plans for the continued survival of the human race enacted before the apocalypse.”

Angie sneered. “Looks like the apocalypse beat you to the punch.”

“There were some set–backs, yes,” said the bush, “but we’re back on track now. This artificial biome, for example, which I use to test how well various subjects survive in various conditions, is state of the art. With the twist of one knob I can change the chemical mixture of the air to simulate any number of different environmental parameters — nuclear winter, ozone depletion, global warming, rainforest die–off. With the twist of another knob I can change the radiation level from pre–war normal, to current levels, to instantly fatal. You’re getting a fairly elevated dose right now, by the way. Another reason you should continue looking for the exit.”

“And have you had any actual success?” asked Kate. “Have you actually bred humans or animals that can thrive on an earth where the air and the environment have been drastically changed for the worse?”

The bush sounded disappointed. “Progress with humans has been less than satisfactory, as you will see. We are such complex creatures. But with the lower orders, yes. We have had great success — particularly with our alpha predators.”

As if on cue, somewhere out in the darkness, something howled.

Vargas cursed and turned back to the hill with the square hole in it. The brick wall at the top ran into the darkness in either direction farther than the eye could see. The “sky” arced over the wall, giving it the illusion of going on forever, like a real sky would.

“Alright,” he said, “Enough gabbing. We gotta find that door, pronto. First things first. We need to peek over that wall and see what’s on the other side. Ghost, Hell Razor, Ace, and Athalia — keep an eye out for whatever’s making that noise. Thrasher, give Kate a boost up to the top of that wall. Angie and I will help.”

We trudged to the top of the hill and watched Thrasher’s back as he picked Kate up and put her on his shoulders as easy as putting on a hat. Even on her tip–toes however, she could barely see over the wall, and she couldn’t see much.

“It’s too dark,” she said.

Vargas handed a flashlight up to her and she shined it around then shook her head. “The ceiling just curves down to the floor about ten feet back from the wall. It’s all dusty in there, but I don’t see any door.”

“Hmmf,” said Vargas. He grimaced. “Uh, how are you with heights, Kate?”

“Um… fine, I guess. Why?”

“Because I was thinkin’, the best way to find this door might be to have you walk along the top of that wall all the way around the perimeter.”

“And what if she fell off on the other side?” asked Angie. “Be a hell of a sweat climbing over and getting her out again.”

“Not to mention I might break my leg,” said Kate.

“Yeah,” said Vargas. “That too. Hmmm.”

Hell Razor dropped his pack on the ground and undid the buckle, then pulled out a neat bundle of rope and held it up. “How about we put a leash on her?”

Vargas looked up to Kate. “You okay with that?”

She gave a weak laugh. “As long as it doesn’t go around my neck.”

Thrasher swung her down again and Hell Razor tied the rope around her waist, then Thrasher picked her back up, put her feet in his hands, and pressed her almost to the top of the wall. She clambered on and they started moving along the wall — Kate shining the flashlight down into the far side while Thrasher walked along on the ground beside her, holding the rope and looking for all the world like a giant kid with a Kate–shaped balloon.

“Awww,” said Angie, “ain’t that sweet?”

Thrasher just grunted and kept walking. We walked with him, moving in a semi–circle around him, looking out into the dark landscape with guns at the ready, waiting for whatever had howled. The anticipation was killing me.

“Why aren’t they coming?”

Angie gave me a sidelong glance. “You want them to come?”

“I just want to get it over with.”

Athalia snorted. “I just want it to never happen.”

Angie grinned. “Amen, sister.”

As we walked we were constantly jumping and swinging our guns around as little half–seen creatures rustled through the underbrush, but nothing big came at us.

A little later, in a patch of fake moonlight I saw what looked like a squirrel, except that it was the size of a small dog and had a prehensile tail, hanging from a branch over a trickling stream and stretching its neck for a drink. Then a fish that looked like a brook trout except with the wide smile of a shark leapt up and bit the creature’s head off in one bite. Blood jetted from the severed neck as the tail slowly uncurled and the body plopped into the water.

Angie shivered. “Isn’t nature wonderful?”

“This is nature?” I asked.

After a few minutes of following the wall down the line of fake hills and valleys, we came to a corner. It was so filled with weird plants and mutant cacti that Thrasher couldn’t stick close to the wall, so he paid out the rope in order to edge around the mess without pulling Kate off the wall.

And that’s when the thing attacked.

I’m gonna call it a Night Screamer because, well, it was night — or a reasonable facsimile thereof — when it attacked, and it screamed. Boy did it scream. It stumbled out of the scrub, flailing at Thrasher with something it held in both hands, and shrieking like a tea–kettle.

Thrasher flinched. I mean, I don’t blame him. We all flinched. That fucker was loud! But Thrasher was holding the end of Kate’s rope, and you can guess what happened next. One twitch and she toppled off the wall, right into the cacti.

“Fuck!”

“Goddamn it!”

“What is it?”

“Kill it!”

“Kate, are you all right?”

Thrasher backhanded the thing as it pitter–patted him with weak hits, and it went down sobbing at his feet. I aimed at it with my pistol and got my first good look at it. I almost lost my lunch.

It looked like something that had tried to be human, but then given up halfway. It had a basic human shape — hands, feet, arms, legs, but they were all twisted and scrawny, and covered in infected sores. Its head was a horror, a pulpy green mass with a mouth like a hole in a rotting pumpkin. But the worst thing was the weapon it had attacked Thrasher with. It was a raggedy little baby doll, and the Screamer was clutching it to its concave chest and weeping like it was four years old.

I winced and eased up on the trigger. “Aw, hell. How do you kill something like that?”

Athalia shot it through the forehead. “Think of it as mercy.”

I blinked at her. “Man, you are pretty damn cold for a servant of—”

“Incoming!”

We whipped around. Angie was firing into the darkness, and in the bursts of her muzzle flash, I saw shapes bounding towards us — long, low and lean, with narrow snouts full of yellow teeth and eyes that mirrored red.

Hell Razor laughed as he blasted at them. “Wolves! Finally something I understand in this goddamn mad house!”