Brian Steele: 4POCALYPSE - Four Tales of a Dark Future

“I don’t see why we even continue this farce. We should simply terminate the Leechers as they descend upon our fair home.”

“This is my fucking little sister!” roared Sean.

Up on the dais with the other five Speakers, Bachmann snorted imperiously. Wearing the blue cloaks of their office, they literally looked down their noses at Sean. Gemmel stood behind him, quiet and staring at the ground. Off to the right, well illuminated, stood Sienna surrounded by six armed guards. Each gun was trained on her torso, her hands now cuffed behind her back. The guards had drawn a name on who would have to re-cuff her.

Sienna stared up at the night sky, the stars almost visible again in the section. She wished she could be on one of those other planets, a faraway rock orbiting a distant star. Anywhere else. Anywhere she didn’t have to hear her brother plead with these people or see Gemmel so defeated.

“I’m leaving,” she said suddenly, a little too loudly.

“What?” Sean spun on her.

“I don’t believe…” Speaker Ridge began.

“No. No, I don’t care. I’m leaving. If you don’t want to give me a gun, that’s fine. No food? That’s fine, too. My Servant would be nice, since we only have three times as many as we have warm bodies.”

Everyone gaped at her.

“I put my life on the line for this encampment for, what, two years now? I leeched to save my brother’s life. Hell, I even snagged the MedAid Kits. Just give me my Servant, and you’ll never have to deal with me again.”

Speaker Bachmann stepped forward, shaking with rage, a death sentence on her lips.

“Enough!” came a voice from behind the dais.

The bright yellow lamps from behind the high glass made a silhouette of him, the wooden ramp creaking under his slow steps. There was exclamation from elsewhere in the depths of Sigma-8, but no one paid attention. The white robe shined pristine, as if it contained its own source of light.

Lecturer Russell hobbled passed the others, and pointed at one of the guards. “You there, find her Servant. Get her two pistols and a rifle. And a provision pack… now!”

“Lecturer Russell,” screeched Speaker Bachmann. “Must I remind you that this is a formal Council session?”

“No,” growled Lecturer Russell. “But I may have to remind you that, as long as I take breath, I have executive veto on this Council. I see exactly where this ‘session’ is going. Whatever this young woman is now, we can not allow our fear to blind us to what she was.”

The bent old man climbed down off the dais and came closer to her than anyone else besides Sean and the one guard had since her return. “Good luck, Sienna Doyle. I’m sorry our ways must be so.”

“It’s… it’s okay, sir. Thank you.”

Sean said something low and dark. He repeated it. “I’m going with her.”

“No!” Sienna exclaimed, as the Council broke out in shrill argument.

Sean, not missing his chance, walked right over and embraced his sister in hug.

“I hereby revoke asylum,” he said above Sienna’s head loud enough for everyone to hear, crushing her to his chest. “And invoke Exclusion Protocol Four.”

“Lunacy,” whispered Speaker Ridge.

“Yes,” said Lecturer Russell with the smallest smile. “Now get him his guns.”

DataLog Text-MemxJourn: Doyle, Sienna A. / 18-04-24

“Have you lost your mind!” screamed Sienna.

Sean ran a hand through his thick black hair. “Sienna, shut up. Not only did you save my dumbass life but, in case you forgot, you’re the only family I have left. Screw Sigma-8. I was getting bored anyhow.”

“Holy shit, you are insane,” grumbled Sienna.

Behind them, the lights of the encampment were still clearly visible in the night. Most of the surrounding area leading up to Sigma-8 had been cleared away and filled with various kinds of sensors. The ghost of a suburban housing sprawl sat hushed and still, a lifestyle cemetery. Once a center of commerce, a shopping mall, all the first floor windows of Sigma-8 had been bricked up save for one, all the useful goods plundered and redistributed by the Council. It was a life, but one that Sienna had been secretly tiring of as well.

“Where are we going to go, Sean?”

“Um, south?”

“God damn it.”

“Hey, we’ve got food, weapons, our Servants and each other,” he tried.

“Oh, a few ancient M&P’s, a Mossberg that may not work, and a FM6-9B that only has one clip. Yep, we’ve got weapons.”

“Unfortunately, I think we’ve also got company.”

Barreling down on them, straight from the encampment, was a Hummer. Before they could dive for cover, it swung and hit them with its headlights. The engine revered and it speeded closer.

“Seriously, they would waste resources on a hit?” Sienna asked, disbelief dripping from her voice.

“Yeah, I don’t think so…” replied Sean.

They both heard the thump of the irritating old techno music a split second before the Hummer swerved and pulled to a stop next to them. A massive hand came out of the dark interior, tossing something small to Sean. A cigar.

“You damn Doyle kids are gonna get my ass killed yet,” came a deep rumble from the Hummer.

“Jay Gemmel, what the fuck?”

Gemmel eased his six and a half feet, almost three hundred pound bulk of muscle out of the Hummer’s door. “Like I’m gonna stick around that shithole with you two gone.”

Sienna’s eyes narrowed on her brother. “You knew!”

“Well, they weren’t going to give us a jeep! Or a few MedAid Kits, or a whole case of vitals.”

“Or what Sienna has to share a seat with back there,” chuckled Gemmel.

Sean popped his head in the Hummer. “Is that… did you steal a TAC-50 sniper assault rifle? I love it so much!”

“Officially!” yelled Sienna, stomping around in a little circle. “Both officially insane!”

DataLog Text-MemxJourn: Doyle, Sienna A. / 19-04-24

None of them had traveled this far from the encampment in years, not since the Feeders had become a regular way of life. It was barren this far south and had a sort of peacefulness. Eerie, but peaceful. After the Nova Insula movement gained broader appeal, large tracts of land had been retrofitted as agricultural centers. Of course, most of those man-made islands collapsed back into the oceans thanks to the Feeders and the later Mancer Wars. New Atlantis was first, followed quickly by Hy-Brasil, West Avalon, and Tsang. Rumor held that New R’lyeh still floated out there, controlled by one of the surviving Mancers. Possibly East Lemuria, too.

The Hummer sped past row after row of genetically modified corn that continued to grow every season, fall to rot on the stalk, and act as fertilizer for the next crop. Vast expanses of useless vegetation as far as the eye could see. Without proper treatments, the corn had become inedible and barely functional as a fuel source without advance processing. Here in the spring though, it was just a waist-high field of ochre that seemed to stretch on forever.

Sitting with her legs draped over the TAC-50, Sienna watched the clouds pass in the crossing direction overhead as they made their way down the battered four-lane. The nothingness here was peaceful. And she was trying to ignore the sideway glances Gemmel and Sean kept giving each over up front.

Finally annoyed enough, she said, “Okay, out with it.”

“What?”

“What?”

“What?”

“I’m confused,” said Sean.

“I’m going to punch you,” said Sienna.

“Why?” asked Sean.

“Feel free!” exclaimed Gemmel.