James Axler - Skydark Spawn

“An electric fence?” J.B. asked.

Ryan had never actually seen an electric fence, but he knew they’d existed, especially around military installations in predark times. “That’d be my guess,” he said.

“If it’s electric, why don’t I hear any hum?” Mildred asked.

“Maybe it’s not on right now,” J.B. suggested.

“It would seem to me that such a massive fence would require an equally massive amount of electricity to electrify it,” Doc said. “And since electricity is currently harder to come by than gasoline, where would so much electricity come from?”

“You’d like a few of those apples, too, wouldn’t you, Doc?” Mildred chided.

“Look there,” Krysty said, pointing in the direction they had come.

Ryan turned and saw a couple of muties behind them several hundred yards down the road, as if they’d been following the group. After they’d stopped, the muties moved off the asphalt and were approaching the northern corner of the fence, staring at the fruit on the other side through the heavy steel weave. Then the first mutie suddenly grabbed the fence and started to climb.

“Nothing happen,” Jak said, as the companions friends moved toward the muties for a closer look.

The second mutie scrambled up the fence behind the first, but when they were both halfway to the top, Ryan suddenly heard a dull mechanical thrum slowly rising in volume.

The fence was being charged with electricity.

When the current reached them, the mutant’s bodies jerked and spasmed wildly, every one of their muscles twitching and writhing uncontrollably. The air was tinged with the sweet and pungent odor of burning flesh and the sound of sizzling meat. Orange-and-blue flames began to shoot out from the hands and feet of the muties, as well as from their other body parts that came in contact with the fence. The muties’ hair and eyebrows burned away like flash powder, the ashes falling to the ground like dirty snow.

“Why don’t they just let go?” Dean asked.

“Can’t,” Mildred replied. “Their muscles are in total spasm. They can’t control them to release their hold on the fence.”

And then the hum suddenly stopped. The muties fell limp against the fence, their burned hands and feet curled around the steel mesh, refusing to let go. Their flesh had developed a hard outer shell and was producing tendrils of acrid gray smoke.

But the muties were still alive. They were gasping for air and groaning in pain, helpless to free themselves from their agonizingly slow death.

“It’s a terrible way to be chilled,” Mildred commented. “The electricity isn’t even the thing that kills you. It paralyzes your heart, shuts off your breathing and boils the fat under your skin so you’re cooked to death from the inside out.”

It was a horrible way to die.

“Maybe they can turn the power on at will,” Mildred suggested. “And at different sections of the fence, wherever it’s needed.”

“Or it’s governed by motion sensors, turning on the fence whenever motion’s detected.”

“Which may or may not mean that someone knows we’re here, people,” Ryan said, knowing he’d just put the friends on triple alert. “But let’s just continue on as if we’ve seen nothing new here.”

The companions began to move.

The muties continued to smolder on the fence.

FARTHER ALONG, the friends saw their first sec man patrolling the inside of the compound. He was armed with a longblaster, and wore a good pair of boots. Behind the sec man, about thirty people worked a row of trees, pulling weeds, trimming branches and picking fruit. They all looked to be healthy and well fed. A few of the women looked to be pregnant, but they were still able to help with the farm work.

Within a few moments of the friends’ appearance, the first sec man was joined by a second, who came riding up in a small white wag that had an engine that ran without making a sound. There was a heavy blaster set up on a swivel mount on the back of the wag that gave the weapon a 360-degree radius of fire.

The first sec man waved to the friends as they walked along the outside of the fence. Ryan returned the wave, and the others followed suit. But while the first sec man remained where he was overseeing the workers, the second sec man in the white miniwag matched their pace, following them all the way to the farm’s front gate.

“Fox Farm,” Mildred read the sign over the double steel gate that served as the farm’s front entrance. There was a kiosk just inside the gate where a sec man was on duty. The mobile sec man pulled up to the gate. He was joined by several others, all carrying blasters of different makes and models, but presumably all in good working order and fully loaded.

“Greetings, outlanders,” the sec man said, climbing out of the small white wag. “What brings you to Fox Farm?”

“Just passing through,” Ryan said.

“You’re welcome to spend the night here if you like. We have some excellent accommodations.”

That was out of the question. The electrified fence was probably just as good at keeping people in as it was at keeping things out. If they stepped through the gate, they might never leave.

“How much?” Mildred asked when Ryan said nothing in response to the sec man’s offer.

The sec man smiled. “One of your blasters perhaps, or mebbe some ammunition.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Ryan said. “But we need our blasters and ammo.” He turned to leave.

“Fair enough,” the sec man said, “but I can’t let you go—”

The friends all made subtle moves for their blasters.

“—without making some sort of trade. How about some food? Apples, pears, grapes, beans…I’m sure you have something of value we could exchange.”

Dean was first, producing an extra pocketknife. Jak searched his pockets and came up with a few rounds that didn’t fit any of the friends’ blasters. Krysty offered up one of her two combs, and Mildred decided she could part with a pair of socks.

“We travel light,” Ryan said as the others held up the goods for inspection.

“Not to worry,” the sec man responded. “These are all things we can make use of.” He turned to one of the sec men behind him. “Three bags.”

The sec man hopped into the white miniwag and drove up to a large building to the left of the gate. In less than a minute he came back with three bags filled with fresh fruit and vegetables.

“By the horn of the goat Amalthaea,” Doc gasped. “I never thought I’d live to see such a cornucopia such as this.”

“Fair trade?” the sec man asked.

It was more than fair, Ryan thought, which made him suspicious. In his experience, all traders always wanted to come out on top in a deal. These people either had far more food than they needed, even for trade, or they were after something else. But judging by how prosperous the farm looked, Ryan decided they could probably afford to be generous with their food—as a sign of goodwill, with an eye toward future trades of more valuable commodities. “Fair trade,” Ryan answered.

A sec man opened a small door in the gate at chest height, and the goods were passed through the opening.

“It’s been a pleasure,” the sec man said.

Ryan nodded. J.B., Doc and Krysty each took a bag, but no one grabbed a fruit, knowing they should keep their hands as free as possible in case something went wrong and they had to grab their blasters.

The small door closed and the deal was done.

“How far is the ville from here?” Ryan asked.

“Just down the road,” the sec man said, pointing south. “Hardly any people there, but plenty of places to spend the night.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said.

They were about to leave when J.B. stepped forward. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you getting your electricity?”