Kyle West: Extinction

“Will there be war?” I asked. “I mean, between the Empire and the Reapers?”

Augustus shook his head. “I must do whatever I can to stop that. There cannot be war until the Great Blight is dealt with. Carin knows this as much as me. I don’t think Carin will attack, but he’s getting restless. He’s making more demands. I have more soldiers, but he has better weaponry, hoarded over the years from the nearby military bases. All the same, I fear he might be planning to use the Radaskim as the anvil, and himself as the hammer, while not realizing the foolishness of such a move.”

Augustus’s speaking about the Radaskim, using that word, made me realize he was up to speed. Ashton had probably updated him at some point while we were in the sky.

“Do you really think he’s going to pincer you between the two sides?” Anna asked.

“I hope not, Anna. I know Black is getting desperate. How could he not be? He has an army of twenty thousand men at his doorstep. The best-case scenario for him would be killing both us and the Radaskim in a single stroke.”

“But Askala will only attack again,” I said. “Even if he did win, it would only be a matter of time.”

“But does he know that? That’s what we need to convince him of, Alex. Remember, he doesn’t know what we know about the Great Blight. To him, this attack might just be a onetime occurrence. It’s our job to convince him otherwise.”

Augustus stopped before a large tent that was probably his own; it was larger than the rest, and two guards stood in front of the entrance. The Emperor turned to face us.

“Black needs to hear it from you,” Augustus said. “I need you at that meeting with me to convince him.”

“Why would we do that for you?” Anna asked. “Maybe we let the Radaskim attack and kill you all. Why would we help you when you locked us up for three days?”

“I wasn’t going to risk your escaping,” Augustus said. “I know how capable you are — not only did you escape the Coleseo back in Nova Roma, but you escaped my Praetorians. I wasn’t going to take any chances. And as for why you should help me, I think we both know the answer to that. Besides me, no one can help you stop the Great Blight. I’m the only one with an army. At the risk of sounding crass, you are alone. Your friends are dead, so if you still want to have a chance, then you must accept my offer of friendship — which I gave earlier. Give me your word of honor, and we can work together, for the good of the Wasteland.”

The Emperor gazed at us, an infectious energy in his brown eyes.

“Besides military aid,” Augustus said, “I have another plan for you three — contingent upon your acceptance of this alliance. Of course, I have Orion in my possession, but as a gift I would offer you Perseus.”

The three of us stared at Augustus in shock. Anna was the first to recover.

“You’d trust us with a spaceship?”

“Why not?” Augustus asked. “In exchange for helping me with Black and the Radaskim, you can keep it. I really don’t fear your attacking me with it. You have nothing to gain. We would be working together, something that is necessary if any of us are to survive this.”

We did need a spaceship. We could find Makara and the others. We could begin to evacuate Bunker 84, perhaps reinforce Augustus’s troops with our own, before Los Angeles was attacked.

Maybe an alliance with the Emperor wasn’t a bad idea. If he was serious about giving us Perseus, it could solve all our problems.

I looked at Ashton, wondering what he was thinking. Ashton was weighing Augustus with his sharp blue eyes, while Augustus did the same to Ashton. The two men had once been enemies. Could they ever be friends?

“So you want us to talk to Black?” Ashton asked.

Augustus nodded. “We need him to work with us. Do this, and lend your aid in the coming battle, and in exchange, you can have Perseus.”

“What if Carin Black attacks anyway?” I asked.

“That might be the case,” Augustus said, “but if that happens, at least I know I have you three at my side. None of us are going to survive the coming storm unless we unite.”

With those words, I remembered the Wanderer’s own warning: that we had to get everyone working together. Augustus was right. Maybe the Emperor was after power, but in the end, survival was more important than whoever got to rule at the end of the day.

“Where is Perseus?” Anna asked.

“It’s still in Bunker Six. We can rescue it once we are done speaking with Black. Getting Perseus out shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“He’s right about that,” Ashton said. “I’ve been in and out of Bunker Six several times over the years. It’s built into a mountain far above the Great Blight, so there aren’t too many monsters there. Still, it’s dangerous. With Orion, it will be easy to access the hangar.”

“Okay,” I said. “So if we help you by speaking to Carin Black, you’ll let us keep the spaceship?”

Augustus nodded. “The main thing is getting Black on our side for good. The longer I wait here, the more suspicious Black becomes.”

It looked as if Augustus had all his bases covered. That was to be expected, though. A man didn’t grow to rule an Empire unless he knew how to plan out every outcome.

“We’ll do it,” Ashton said.

“Good,” Augustus said.

A courier approached Augustus, bowing low.

“Speak,” the Emperor said.

“Black is here.”

Augustus and his Praetorians escorted us back to the encampment’s gates. The portal opened upon our arrival, revealing the abandoned airport ahead. The top half of Orion was visible above the edge of the terminal building, from which jutted boarding tunnels. Ten of the Reapers’ black Recons were parked in a line to the left of the building, facing toward us. They were distant — maybe a quarter of a mile away. A line of men stood in front of the Recons, far across the flat expanse of dirt and runways. One of these men had to be Carin Black.

We marched forward to meet with the Reapers and their Warlord. We were finally going to meet Carin Black, the terror of Los Angeles. This man had ruined thousands of lives when he overthrew the Lost Angels in 2055, enslaving or killing any who resisted. The only beneficiaries of the violence had been his own gang, the Black Reapers. I didn’t know what was going to happen at this meeting. Neither Augustus nor Carin trusted each other, so I felt anything could happen.

After a few minutes, we were near the Reapers. I saw Carin Black now. He was a tall man with pale blue eyes. They did not look like the eyes of a man who had done so much evil, and it was hard to believe that his toad-like son, Onyx, was his. He was probably forty years of age, and at first glance, he definitely seemed to be someone of intelligence and ability. His dark hair was cropped close, and his pale muscled arms held various tattoos — on his left biceps was the skull and cross-scythes that seemed to be the gang’s emblem, while a red, fiery snake ran down his left forearm. His right biceps was dominated by an intricate tattoo of a grim reaper bearing a scythe. The reaper himself was swirling in darkness, and had glowing red eyes within his shadowed cowl. The Warlord of the Reapers stared at us with those crystalline blue eyes, his thin, bloodlike lips horizontal. That gaze was like a rush of cold wind.

At last, we halted before him. The Praetorians made a line, flanking us on either side. For a long moment, the two sides stared each other down. The moment dragged into minutes, each leader refusing to speak first.