Chapter Eighteen
“These things are feeding off sunlight now!?”
“The lack of melanin production has allowed UV light to penetrate the skin, and infected ganglia are converting it into biomechanical energy. Another unintended mutation of HBRS exposure.”
“So much for starving them to death. This just went from bad to fucked.”
–General Jon Tyson. Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. 2 Months After.
* * *
I love you, Nelly said, her naked form above his.
Liam groaned. Oh, how I’ve missed you.
It had been so long since the two had made love. So much time lost between them after he’d been trapped on Purgatory. But now they were together again, and it was like nothing had ever changed.
Her thighs rocked atop his waist and Liam stiffened to the touch. This was why he had struggled so hard to survive. He had spent so many years alone only because he knew that they would one day be reunited, and this was his reward. His soulmate recaptured, their love restored.
Liam went inside her. Oh, how there could be no greater form of heaven than now. Nelly moaned as he caressed her legs, and gasped as he bit down on her breasts. The wind picked up around them and the curtains fluttered. As Liam thrust harder inside her, she matched his growing intimacy with her own intensity. Her nails dug into his skin, and she pressed herself onto him, harder and faster.
Liam closed his eyes. There was nothing else in this world but the two of them. Life was but an exercise to find a companion, and they had found each other. The world’s trifles were insignificant compared to their shared passion. Only the moment was real, and nothing else mattered.
Then Liam opened his eyes, and found that Nelly had transformed. Her skin had gone pale, and her hair was now black instead of blonde. A burgundy scarf had been wrapped around her face, leaving only her eyes in sight, their irises twisted from blue to violet.
He gasped. You can’t! Liam tried to shift free. He couldn’t let her turn him into one of those creatures!
But Nelly was stronger than she looked, and used her lithe form to anchor him in place, still grinding against his groin with a rising zeal. Liam’s arousal grew as she fucked him, and there was nothing to be done. His hands gripped the smooth, pale skin of her breasts, even as it peeled away, and his eyes were locked with hers, their demonic gaze begging for more.
This was wrong, immoral, and outright disgusting, but he could not break away. Desperation had eclipsed caution, and it no longer mattered what form Nelly was in, only that he be with her. Liam would taste her carnal passion once more, even if it killed him!
As Liam reached his climax, she removed her scarf, parted her blackened lips, and vomited forth a stream of maggot-infested bile.
* * *
Liam awoke with a curse, followed by another, the second louder than the first. The sight of Nelly had been replaced with Mastermind, his childish face leaned in less than an inch from his own.
“What were you dreaming about?” he asked, sucking on his thumb.
“I don–” Liam started. “What!?”
“You were dreaming just now.” He gestured to Liam’s legs, where his erection was quite visible, even through the blanket. “Looks like it was a good one too. What was it about?”
Liam spotted the embarrassment in horror. He reflexively threw his hands over his waist and batted Mastermind away. The bastard scrambled to safety with a laugh. This could not have been more outrageous!
“Hey!” Kurt shouted to Mastermind. “Stop being lazy and get down from there. I’m not carrying you too.”
The ground shook, and Liam blinked back the waking blurs. When did I get here? He was no longer in the cabin, but on the back of a gardening cart as Kurt dragged it down the mountain. The rusted metal web had been encased with pillows, with an additive blanket on top and below to keep him warm. The sun was full and shining, and the trees were blowing in the wind.
“We got tired of waiting,” Buttercup said with a grin, his Dragunov in hand. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Liam tried to stretch, but found the maneuver not suitable, given the confined cage he’d been trapped in.
“How long was I out?” he asked.
“All night and then some,” Leah said as she strolled into view, her mascaraed eyes locked with his. She handed him Thirsty. “Here. Drink.”
His fingers graced the cold leather of her gloves, and Liam wanted to crawl out of his skin. He took his canteen back skeptically, doing his best to avoid making eye contact with Leah, lest she somehow read his mind and learn about the nightmare he’d just had. He really needed to see another woman in the flesh. Preferably one that wasn’t a walking corpse.
Liam downed a mouthful of purified mountain water. “I appreciate this, but you didn’t have to go through the effort. You could have just woken me up early if you wanted to save a couple miles.”
She chuckled. “‘Early?’ No, you don’t get it. We’ve been moving all night.”
Liam studied the world anew. The mountain they’d been on was far to their backs, and the crumbled asphalt road had been replaced with an overgrown dirt path. Red firs surrounded them where pines had once been. He looked for any sign of recognition and came up short. Just how far have they gone!?
“Why the hell wouldn’t you wake me up!?” he exclaimed. “This isn’t a marathon. We still have hundreds of bloody miles to go! What, do you think you’ll leg it all in one go? You’ve thrown our sleep schedules off kilter!”
Leah rolled her eyes. “Rezzers don’t sleep, you idiot. Thought you’d noticed by now.”
Liam bit back the surprise. Between the shock of returning to a ruined wreck of a world and the stress of his own tribulation, he had only been focused on keeping up with the pace that Leah set, and never questioned why it was so high. That they never carried bedrolls of their own could have been explained as a propensity toward a rugged lifestyle, and never seeing them sleep had been written off as only fulfilling their needs after him. They were better maintained, after all.
He floundered out of the cart and grabbed his backpack from Buttercup before he could suffer another moment of humiliation.
Liam was good at mountaineering. He was very, very good at what he did. Whether it was scaling Kilimanjaro, traversing the Himalayas, surviving the Alps, or enjoying a stroll in the Urals, Liam had conquered them all at some point or other, if not for his show, Survive in Wild, than his own leisure, and he had done so with minimal equipment. Such was the nature of his work, and he had developed enough knowledge to become an aficionado of the craft, always capable of stressing the limits of his own abilities. Even a decade marooned had offered only a minimal challenge for a man of his talents.
But to accomplish the task these creatures had set was nigh impossible. Leah had to be aiming to break fourty miles a day with minimal breaks, minimal food, and no sleep whatsoever. Not even the greatest athlete would be able to keep up with these inhuman measures, not for more than a couple days. The human body was only capable of so much exertion before failing.
This was unreal! Whatever parallels that could have been drawn just a few nights before had now been dashed. The rezzers were treating this trek as though it was a race, and one that they were overqualified to participate within. As Liam watched their bodies move with mechanical efficiency, he discovered an unavoidable truth. The human condition hadn’t been eradicated like he’d been led to believe.
It had just been replaced.
* * *
Days came and went as they tried to use this new system. Liam would march during the day until his feet were calloused and head light, then concede to his limitations and hop on the cart. His supplies would be dispersed between Leah and Buttercup, and Kurt would go back to dragging him along.
But whatever early advantage they had gained was soon lost, as the main roads of Sequoia seldom ran due North, and the service paths in between were overgrown after so much time without use. Sleep started to become an issue again. There was only so much Liam could gain when his head would rock every hundred yards, especially since they were frequently forced to change altitude. Each day began to blend together, and his vision could never quite level out, no matter how much water he drank.
Buttercup waltzed over, his Dragunov strapped over his shoulder. A real oddity in a group of oddities. Liam would never understand where he found all his clothes. His leopard-print business suit had been swapped with one that had a forest camo design, with a tie and vest to match. Apparently, he had one such suit for every environment, ranging from the urban to the desert to the aquatic, each sized to fit to perfection. Ghillie suits were too vogue for him, apparently.
He tipped his fedora, this one decorated with fish hooks attached. “What’s the deal with you and that canteen, anyway?” Buttercup asked as Liam guzzled another mouthful from Thirsty.
“I don’t catch your meaning,” he said.
“Come on, you’re trying to keep it quiet, but we all can hear you talking to that thing like it’s a person. Is it your version of Wilson from Cast Away?”
Liam chewed his lips. It totally is. He hadn’t made the connection until now, but he’d been called out for using an inanimate object as a springboard for his subconscious fears.
“How the hell have any of you seen Cast Away?” Liam deflected.
He shrugged. “Gets played every so often at the theatre. I think it’s one of the few original copies we have left. Good film, though I never understood why he talked to a beach ball. Why not go for a bird or something? At least those can kinda talk back. A ball is just boring.”
Hey, don’t judge. I’ll have you know that Thirsty was the one to keep me sane, you wanker! “You’d have to take it up with the director, I suppose.”
“Don’t play dumb, Liam. I’m just trying to figure out how the living tick. Gotta learn how you work if I want to become like you. That’s the whole point of this thing, right? We’re all going to be alive when this mess is done. So why you doing the Wilson thing?”
His cheeks reddened. “Maybe you get yourself trapped alone for twelve years and see what happens.” He turned over. “What about you? Ever say anything to that rifle of yours to pass the time?”
Buttercup patted his Dragunov. “Well, yeah. No reason not to compliment the fucker if he gets a good kill for me, though he’s a stubborn Russian bastard. Always a bitch to find him ammo.”
Liam winked. “Then you know exactly how I feel. There’s your Wilson.”
Buttercup chuckled after a couple seconds of thought. “Hah! You’re not a bad guy, Liam. I could get used to hanging out like this, though hopefully not when we’re trouncing through the wilderness.”
“The sentiment’s mutual.” Liam scanned the peaks and tried to imagine how many more they’d have to traverse. “So what are you going to do with your newfound humanity, once the cure’s been made?”
His bright red eyes beamed behind the orange-tinted shades. “You’re gonna love this one. What’s the one thing rezzers miss, more than anything else?”
“Eating vegetables?”
“Bleh. No, those are still going to be shitty, new world order or not. I’m talking long-term, friend. What can you do that we can’t?”
Have sex. “I’m afraid I’m at a loss. What can I do?”
He grinned. “Have sex. The closest we can get right now is popping Lust. It stimulates the sex organs, but only a fraction of what they used to be. Whole rooms for that in Elysium. Imagine how much bigger it’ll be when we can do the real deal?”
There are zombie fuck pits? Liam was too tired to feel sick. “Don’t think sleeping with everyone qualifies as a business, mate.”
“It’ll be better than that. I’m going to find all the hottest gals and guys who’d gotten the best skinjobs after the Hollowing, and I’ll have them sleep with everyone for me in exchange for a cut of the profits. Won’t just be for breeding either. I’m talking a place where you can go to have sex for fun. Everyone’s gonna love it, and they’ll pay big.”
“So you’re getting into the prostitution business?”
“Nothing like that. I’ll be too busy managing the administration. This isn’t gonna be one girl on a street corner. I’m talking a whole organization, with management, salaries, and a chain of command.”
“…So you’re becoming a pimp and running a brothel?”
He looked aghast. “You’re not listening to me, man! I’m not going to be beating drugged-out chicks with a cane. I’m talking about a high-class service where clients can select the partners they want. No dating phase, no drawn out engagement or expensive wedding, and no elderly priest as a middle-man to arrange the whole thing. Just you, my employees, and a pile of pics. That’s what this is about. I’m going to simplify the whole process for everyone involved.”
Liam smirked. “Buttercup, what you’re talking about is exactly what prostitution is. It’s an industry as old as time.”
Now he was the one to be embarrassed. “Yeah, well, maybe it’ll be a good thing to bring it back then. You look miserable enough without it.”
“Can’t say that I disagree with that, mate.”
* * *
The group kept moving for some time. The path they’d been following hit its predictable end, and they were forced to improvise by cutting through some more country. The ravines slacked into a plateau, and the group found themselves in an open field with only a small lake in sight.
“Damn it!” Kurt shouted behind as a crash roared. The cart had tumbled again, spilling all their gear out. “The wheel’s snapped.”
Leah marched over, examined the damage, and tossed a chunk of rusted metal aside. “We’ll have to fix it.”
He grunted. “That’ll take hours. We should just leave it. We’re losing enough time as is.”
“No. We can’t afford to take anymore nights off.”
“I can leg it if need be,” Liam said. “I’m sure we’ll find another if we dipped into town.”
“No,” she said with a tone that wouldn’t be questioned. “Mastermind will fix the cart, and Buttercup can get us something to eat.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “I’d suggest you take a nap while we wait, Liam Fenix.”
He shivered. Leah’s mood had soured since they’d left Ponderosa. Every moment that Liam had spent sitting and relaxing, every second where he would massage a leg or take a drink, and her thinly veiled distaste worsened. It was as if he were at fault for all her woes, and not the other way around. What had he done to deserve such antipathy?
At least the view wasn’t all bad. Pines like emerald spears thrust into the mountains behind, rising up to stone peaks where the boundaries of Sequoia adhered to the Sierra range. The lake reflected the mountains above in a shade of navy blue, and Liam would have killed to jump into this lake and embrace its refreshing comfort, if only so he could prove that there were no hollows directly below its waves.
He held a hand against the morning sun. Off in the distance, a herd of wild horses was grazing by the water.
Maybe there’s a better way forward, after all. Liam lumbered to his feet and walked over, slowly and carefully as not to raise alarm.
Leah followed. “Leave the Hunt to Buttercup. He’s already on it.”
“These ones aren’t for killing,” Liam said.
“Then what the hell are you doing?”
“Do you know what those are?”
She stared blankly. “Horses.”
Liam bent low. “What we’re looking at here are Spanish mustangs. You can tell because of the bushier tail and way that the manes fall over their coats.” He nodded. “I’d say this lot is prime stock, by the looks of them.”
“So?” Leah asked.
He gleamed. It had been a long time since he’d had a sentient audience. “They say that Columbus first brought horses to America on his second voyage to help control the new world, and it shouldn’t surprise us to know why. Andalusian mares were prized possessions of the throne, and were known across Europe for their speed and stamina. But Columbus couldn’t contain this breed for long. Between the Apaches and the Maya, raiding parties set hundreds of them free. These days, there are thousands of wild mustangs in California alone. I’d reckon more, given everything else that’s happened.”
She squinted suspiciously at him. “Why are you talking like that? It’s weird, like you’re about to announce a prize.”
He ignored her and maintained his charm. “Husbandry is a technique that predates the dawn of civilization, with some of the earliest wranglers as no more than nomads on the slopes of Kazakhstan. Though time has evolved and the process has grown more controlled, there’s nothing to stop us from once again forging a bond between man and his original best friend. In a crisis as bleak as our own, it might just be our only hope.”
“You want to ride those things? Are you insane?”
“I need you to hang back, Leah. This is a craft that is slow and delicate. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
She snorted. “Please. Like I’d let some horse knock me over.”
“Then do it for me. We might not get another opportunity like this one.”
“You’re wasting your time, but fine, do whatever you want.” She furrowed her brow. “But when they run off after five minutes, you’re back over here and sleeping. I won’t burn another morning because you tired yourself out doing something stupid.”
“And when I come back riding on top of one of these beauties, you’ll owe me a shower. I don’t care how you arrange it or how long it takes. I want to feel fresh water flowing over my skin again, and I don’t want to hear any bullshit about hollows in the river.” He held out his hand to shake. “Does that sound like a fair trade?”
Her gloved hand embraced his own. “Deal.”
With the stakes raised a tinge, Liam made his way forth. He narrowed his focus on the strongest of the bunch, a jet-black male built like a bronco, with spots of white running down his snout. If Liam was to have any hope of capturing this ride before Leah lost her patience, it would be through going straight for the one with the least to fear.
Liam closed the distance between him and his target, gently shooing the other mustangs out of the way, never enough to force the herd to sprint off, but enough so that they would not interfere. The black mustang kept his eyes fixed, scanning for threats. It was just the two of them for a time. The mustang assumed a defensive pose as it waited for something new to happen, but Liam did nothing but stand and stare, studying every nuance of the creature’s body language. Time pressed on as each remained locked, first one minute of silence, and then another. Liam became a rock, but the mustang did not drop its guard.
Finally, the mustang turned away for a beat. Liam jumped forth half a foot and tsked. In a flash, the black mustang reared its head and trotted to safety, well over fifty meters away.
Leah stood back with the others, arms folded. Even from the distance, Liam could sense the premature victory she felt. But little did she know that this was part of the dance, and Liam and his mustang had a long date ahead of them. He raised his finger to silence any objections Leah might make.
Liam followed the black mustang to the new patch of greenery it had claimed and repeated the technique, this time advancing one pace closer before stopping. The mustang again examined him, scanning for more threats. His eyes remained fixed, and his posture stayed defensive, until such a time that he grew exhausted by the exercise. Only when the mustang dropped his guard did Liam jerk forward and tsk again, forcing the mustang into another retreat.
This was a special technique employed by the gauchos of Patagonia. The goal was to tire their mustangs out while also training them to accept humans as safe company. By only scaring them when they stopped paying attention, the mustangs would learn that staring equated to safety, and aversion led to danger.
Little by little, step by step, the samba continued. Liam would force the black mustang to acknowledge him, and slowly condition the bastard into accepting his presence. The mustang would rear his head and make a retreat, but never far enough away to surrender his territory, lest his pride be damaged. The other horses soon parted way for the two to enjoy their dance uncontested, with Liam getting closer by the minute.
The day dragged on, and hours began to stack, but still Liam did not relent. Somewhere along the way, the work on the cart was completed, though the rezzers no longer seemed to care. They had abandoned their own goal of an early escape in favor of watching Liam work. This was a game of chess after all, and one they had never seen before.
After enough time and enough patience, the black mustang finally bowed his head in surrender. Liam had gotten himself into arm’s reach by then, and no longer needed to scare his new acquaintance to keep his attention. The two exchanged each other’s scents, and the mustang no longer felt threatened.
And now for your reward. Liam reached into his satchel and pulled out some wild carrots he’d taken from a derelict farm one day back. It would hurt to not enjoy them himself, but the black mustang had earned a prize for his patience. He was a worthwhile partner.
“There, there,” Liam whispered, giving the mustang a stroke on the mane. “See? There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ve just been used to taking care of yourself and forgotten what it’s like to have a friend. We’ll change that, you and I, yeah?”
Minutes came and went as Liam coaxed the black mustang further. His work was not yet done, and the most dangerous step was still to come. Without a harness and saddle, getting atop the mustang’s back would be nigh impossible for the uninitiated, but luckily for Liam, he had been trained to do just that for the show. Season Three: Episode Seven, to be precise.
The trick was to ease into it like an old man into a bath. Slowly but deliberately, Liam wrapped his arms around the mustang, never applying more pressure than he had before, and always massaging the pain out of its tendons. When the water was warm and the moment just right, Liam hopped off his ground and onto the back. The black mustang lurched into a trot again, but did not try to kick him off just yet. That gave Liam the leniency to scramble further and wrap his arms around the head, where he could redistribute his weight and once again nullify any discomfort he had inflicted. The mustang’s trot slackened back into a walk.
And just like that, the two had become one, and the dance was complete.
Leah stared wide-eyed as the incomprehensible marched toward her. “How the hell did you do that?”
Liam grinned. “Give me more time, love, and I’ll have one for each of you.”
By mid-morning of the next day, Liam had fulfilled his promise. It had been slow to start, with the mustangs not giving his rezzer companions the time of day when they drew near. Liam surmised that hollows were the natural predator to horses these days, and rezzers would be indistinguishable. But once they had applied dung to mask their scents, the sailing became far smoother. His undead companions were more clever than they looked, and picked up on Liam’s guidance faster than he would have suspected. When combined with the herd being more submissive in the presence of their restrained alpha, getting them on horseback became elementary.
Leah claimed a milky-white female for herself, with Mastermind sitting on her lap. Buttercup chose a pale babe as well, and the two fell instantly in love. Only Kurt remained on foot, but that was his choice. “Don’t trust anything bigger than me,” he’d said before thrusting the extra baggage over his shoulder and marching away.
As the group began to ascend the slopes again, Liam caught Leah peering his way. Deciphering the thoughts of his mustang was trivial compared to reading Leah’s mind from behind the opaque wall of her burgundy scarf, but there was a virtue in her eyes that he’d never seen before, and one that filled his heart with glee.
It was respect.
