Fiction: Afterlife Volume 3 (Chapter 21)

If you’ve never read Afterlife before, click here to go to the first chapter.

Afterlife is a sci fi/western action serial published every other week. Join us in a post-apocalyptic journey through a future where life has become little more than a struggle for survival. However, where there’s life, there’s always hope.

Image via

Read the previous chapter here:

Afterlife, Volume 3, Chapter 20

Where:

Ayman Ali and the Wild Joe Rodeo Show are rescued by the resistance.
Warrick Baines goes haywire and kills Jim Brantley in Drummond’s library.
The International Anarchy Organization execute Herman Rennock in New Atlantis.

Find the Volume 3 Table of Contents page here.

View the Map here.

Check out Afterlife on Goodreads and don’t forget to rate it.

 

Afterlife, Volume 3, Chapter 21

Averil Jones felt out of place sitting at a table full of criminals.  She was just a programmer and a hacker, not a thief or murderer.  She didn’t recognize all of the people at the table, but she knew from previous conversations with Lonnie Fox and Long John that they were mostly leaders of criminal empires and corrupt politicians.  Many of the people saw the IAO as saviors, as the group who had finally been able to take down Rennock, but now that Averil was getting up close and personal with the organization, she was starting to see what they truly were: a lose network of criminal organizations who were solely in the business of politics for power and money.  And now that they were in power, they ruled through confusion and intimidation.  When Averil first joined, she’d thought they had the guts to do the things the Southwest Resistance was afraid to do, but she was starting to realize they weren’t afraid to take things too far.  In their minds, there was no such thing as too far.

There were people from all over the world sitting around the table.  There were delegations from all of the world’s major regions and continents: Numurka, the Far North Territories, Mexico and South America, New Europa, the Middle East, the Republic of Africa, Australia, New Asia, and even the Antarctic Regions.  Many wore suits while others were dressed like bandits.  Many of the Africans and Middle Easterners were dressed in colorful robes.  There were some women, but most were men.  Averil glanced at Lonnie Fox, who was sitting to her left, as they waited for the Numurka leadership to enter the room.  Lonnie was in charge of technology for Numurka, so Averil answered to him in almost all matters.  Lonnie, in turn, answered to Long John.  Lonnie was wearing a dark blue suit with a maroon tie, and his glasses were balanced over a long nose.  He glanced at Averil with cold, calculating blue eyes.  “Have you finished the newest radar blockers?”  She nodded.  “And they’re up to specifications?” he asked.

“They are,” Averil said.  “Until the resistance manages to make the adjustment.  Should be good for at least one battle, though.”

Lonnie grinned.  “Good.  Hopefully that’s all that will be necessary.”

The meeting was being held in a board room towards the top of Rennock Tower.  The only floors above them were the ones which had once been set aside for the private residences of Herman Rennock and his family.  They were now occupied by the IAO leadership, and from what Averil had heard, they were the sites of crazy parties and wild orgies pretty much night and day.  Those were the rumors, anyway.  The room was lavish, with wooden, cushioned chairs and a huge single slab wooden table.  The wall-sized window looked out over New Atlantis.  Many of the buildings had been burnt down, but the IAO was in the process of rebuilding them.  There were lots of construction cranes scattered across the skyline.  Electromagnetic propulsion aircraft were zipping around all over the sky above the city, carrying supplies to the construction sites. And beyond the high metal walls of New Atlantis, desert dunes spread out to the horizon.

The door to the boardroom opened and five people walked in.  Leading the way was a huge man in a black suit.  He also had matching black sunglasses and a black goatee.  Averil recognized him as Little Nicky, the newest member of the leadership group.  He was followed by Long John, who was wearing his usual leather vest and gray cowboy hat.  Last was the Duke of Weston in his fur coat flanked by a beautiful blonde and a beautiful brunette.  They were basically bimbos in white dresses.  They pulled out the chair for the Duke as he sat down and took their places against the wall with several men in gray suits.  Averil recognized some of them.  They were bodyguards.  “The Duke is excited to see the progress we’ve made in recent months,” the Duke of Weston said as he smiled at the faces around the table.  “Now that Herman Rennock’s gone, we’ve symbolically taken our places as the leaders of the world.  The Duke couldn’t be prouder of everyone at this table.”  He clapped, as did the other people at the table.  Averil joined in.  “Now, it seems our biggest threats come from pockets of resistance.  Many have been stamped out, but there are some who’ve been causing significant problems.  The biggest group here in Numurka currently resides in Rose City, and we’re going to have to stamp them out like we have the others.  In order to do that, the Duke believes that for the first time since our inception, it may be necessary for the IAO to have a standing army.”  He turned to Long John and smiled.

“We have the manpower,” Long John said.  “And we’ve taken most of Rennock’s technology.”  He smiled at Averil.  “We’ve also been working on moving beyond Rennock’s technology.  I believe that we will be way ahead of the curve when the time comes to fight.  We have advanced aircraft and tanks, heavy artillery, advanced weapons, and we even have ten levelers.  On top of that, my esteemed colleagues Lonnie Fox and Averil Jones are working on radar jamming devices as well as advanced camouflage projectors and other devices that our army will be equipped with.  So many of you are probably wondering who we’ve found to lead our army.”  He tapped the table and one of the gray-suited bodyguards opened the board room door.

A man and a boy walked into the boardroom and stood near the door.  Both were wearing the metal and leather getups worn by bandits out in the desert.  The man looked shaky and paranoid.  There was a wicked grin stretched across his thin face, but his green eyes were darting around the room like he expected something to come at him any second from any direction.  There were several hypodermic needles lining his leather belt, and a pair of goggles were perched on his forehead.  The boy wasn’t as shaky, but he looked just as crazy.  He couldn’t have been older than twelve, but his eyes showed a malice that it seemed to Averil made the child capable of awful things some full grown men would be afraid to do.  The boy had dark tan skin and his belt was lined with bones.  Averil didn’t want to know where the bones came from.  Long John smiled as he looked at the two newcomers.  “Let me introduce all of you to Jolly Roger and his young prodigy, Jay Dog.  They’ll be leading our new army when it attacks Rose City.  I’m sure for most of you, their reputation precedes them.”  Averil had heard of them.  Both had reputations as notorious gang leaders in Weston, a hotbed of gang and criminal activity.  She wasn’t sure how they’d fare leading an actual army, but both were notoriously ruthless.

“Can’t you do better?” a man with a French accent asked.  He was wearing a black suit with a green tie.  “I’ve heard some of Rennock’s leaders defected.  Why not use them?”

“We will use them,” the Duke of Weston said, “but the Duke likes having people we can trust in the lead.  They’ll have military people assisting them, of course.”

Jolly Roger grinned at him, his green eyes darting around the room.  “We’ve defeated Rennock’s armies in the past,” he said in a screechy voice that sounded like the human equivalent of sandpaper.  “The IAO like to go with the winners.”  He winked at the Frenchman.  “Believe me, no one loves a good fight as much as I do.  Except maybe Jay Dog, here.”  He nodded to the child standing next to him.  “The rush, the high is exhilarating.”  He closed his eyes and smiled.

A tan-skinned man with slicked back hair was frowning.  He was also wearing a suit, but his was black with a red bowtie.  “And what about our other enemies?” he asked with an Italian accent.  “I’ve heard that you have your own enemies here besides the resistance, too.  There’s the Holy Warriors, for instance.  And the Warriors of Freedom under this Evileye Alphacore.  It seems to me that you’ve been having trouble keeping your territory here under control.  How is this one army going to deal with all of these issues?”

An African man wearing a colorful orange and yellow robe hit the table with his fist.  “And what about Phillip Brevington and his racist followers?  We’ve been dealing with similar groups in the Republic of Africa.  Why shouldn’t dealing with people like these be the priority?”

“We have our own priorities here,” Long John said.  “We’ll deal with the Southwest Resistance first.  Don’t worry.  We’ll deal with those other groups soon after.  And we’ll start similar armies all around the world.  All of our enemies will be destroyed eventually.  It’s just a matter of time.  I believe that many of these groups may be persuaded to join us.  Those that don’t, we will destroy from within if possible.  And if that’s not possible…”  He grinned.  “Well, now we’ll have an army to deal with the outliers.”

“Why are you making all the decisions?” the Italian man asked.  “There are a lot of wealthy people here.  What makes you so special?”

“Yeah!”  Several of the others at the table voiced their agreement as they turned to look at Long John.

Long John smiled.  “We believe in survival of the fittest.”  He glared at the Italian.

“Survival of the fittest?” the Italian said with a grin.  “We’re all alive here.  It doesn’t explain why you’re the boss.”

Long John stood.  “Well, maybe a demonstration is in order.”  He walked towards the Italian man.  Two guards standing behind the Italian drew guns as Long John approached that side of the table.  Averil noticed that the twelve year old who she assumed was Jay Dog drew a laser pistol and fired two shots, blasting away each of the weapons the Italian’s guards were holding.  With a wicked grin, he proceeded to shoot them both in the head.  Before Averil knew what was happening, Long John, who was now standing behind the Italian man, drew a switchblade and sliced open his throat.  Blood seeped down over his shirt.  Several bodyguards standing around the room drew laser pistols and pointed them at the rest of the men seated at the table.

The Duke stood and looked around at everyone.  “Now, we don’t need another demonstration, do we?  Suffice to say that the Duke and Long John have all of our best interests at heart.  The resistance will be the perfect test for our army.  Trust us.”

People were looking around with paranoia in their eyes, but no one else dared challenge the Duke or Long John or any of their decisions.  The meeting went on for a while longer.  They talked about future plans regarding hitting banks and further manipulating world markets and trade.  Averil paid attention to some of it, but it didn’t really interest her.  She was wondering what she’d gotten herself into, though she was afraid to change her allegiances again after the day’s demonstration.  She’d heard plenty of rumors, but now she knew as an eyewitness what the IAO was capable of.  She’d just do her job and try not to step on anyone’s toes.

<>

Ayman wondered what sort of leaders would want to meet with someone in a bar as he followed Wild Joe Rodeo through the front door of the tavern.  They’d been in Rose City most of the day and the evening.  All of the members of Joe’s group had been given nice hotel rooms to stay in until they managed to find other arrangements.  They’d been treated to a nice lunch and a lavish dinner by Ayman’s standards, consisting of a beef and vegetable dish, and now they were getting the chance to meet two of their benefactors in person.  Ayman just wished the meeting place chosen had been something other than a bar, especially since his religion forbid the consumption of alcohol.

Wild Joe was dressed like a true showman in his blue vest with red, white, and blue rhinestones.  He was wearing blue jeans, brown cowboy boots with stirrups and a white ten gallon hat.  Several people in the bar smiled and spoke amongst themselves as Joe entered the bar.  Ayman in his baggy white shirt and pants probably looked like an interesting companion for Joe.  They looked around the small barroom, at the bar and the tables scattered throughout.  It was smoky inside and the lighting was dim, but Ayman was able to make out two soldiers at a table towards the back who looked like they were probably the men Joe and he were looking for.  One was a chubby Hispanic man with a bushy black beard.  His large chest was covered with colorful medals and he was dressed in an olive green military uniform.  From what Ayman could tell, he appeared to be very drunk, speaking loudly and laughing hysterically, and his face was bright red.  His companion was a smaller man, also in uniform, with glasses.  Wild Joe and Ayman approached the table and the fat man smiled when he saw them.  “Wild Joe Rodeo!  And you must be Ayman Ali.”

Joe and Ayman sat across from them at the table.  “Pleased to meet a legend of your stature, sir,” Joe said.

“Likewise!” General Rodriguez said.  He pushed mugs towards Joe and Ayman.  There was a large pitcher of dark beer in the center of the table.  “Here!  Drink up, my friends.  Let’s talk.”

Joe poured himself a beer and Ayman waved him off.  “Sorry.  I don’t drink.”

The general shrugged.  “More for the rest of us.”  When Joe was done pouring his drink, General Rodriguez poured another for himself.

The other man with the glasses smiled at Ayman.  “We were happy to hear that you managed to bring most of Abigail Song’s diamonds back.  Along with Karl Bergson’s fortune.  The Southwest Resistance owes you a great debt.”

Ayman nodded.  “They weren’t mine.  I figured it would be best to return them to their owners.”

“A lesser man would have done differently,” General Rodriguez said with a grin.  “You’re a good man, Mr. Ali.”

Ayman shrugged.  “There are better.  And I guess there are worse.”

“Of course,” General Rodriguez said with a grin.  “We’re all scoundrels here, for instance.”  He and Joe laughed.

“I’ll drink to that,” Joe said as he swigged his beer.

“Shall we get down to business?” the man with the glasses asked.

General Rodriguez frowned.  “Sure.  So things are pretty rough here.  We’ve had an influx of new recruits, but many are untrained.  I was thinking with your reputation as a fighter, Wild Joe, maybe you could help us.  Maybe we could look for a leadership role in the army for you.”

Ayman frowned.  He wondered if he should speak up about what he knew about Wild Joe and his group.  The fat man sitting in front of him could have been as big a fraud as Joe, though, for all Ayman knew.  He definitely didn’t have the appearance of a famous military leader.  If these two were going to be leaders in the resistance army, Ayman wondered about their chances for victory.  “I’d be flattered,” Joe said with a grin.  “I’m sure you’ve heard of some of my exploits.  I was a bodyguard for a time, escortin’ beautiful women through the deep west.  I know these lands as well as anyone.  Then I led a small army of soldiers clearin’ these lands of bandits.  And it was the safest place in the world for a good ten years until I decided to retire and start my show.  It was safe for everyone except the farmers’ daughters I got a hold of, of course.”  He laughed, as did General Rodriguez.

The General knocked his mug against Joe’s.  “A man after my own heart!”  And the stories started, each more ridiculous than the one before.  The General talked about wrestling a bear when he was ten, fighting off three hundred enemy soldiers single-handed when he was eighteen, sneaking women out of whorehouses from under pimp’s noses, and it went on and on.  Wild Joe’s stories were just as ridiculous.  He learned to shoot when he was four and could hit a tin can at a thousand feet by the time he was six.  He won shooting championships by the time he was ten and was a bodyguard at twelve, escorting women across the most dangerous badlands in the world.  He killed giant sand crabs, giant alligators which he said were practically dragons, huge rats and bats, and legions of bandits.  The two men were really entertaining one another, talking about bedding women all along the way.  Soon they were divvying up women in the tavern amongst themselves.  Foxtrot, the man with the glasses, was mostly quiet, but he politely laughed at the stories and nodded along, taking a swig from his mug every once in a while.  He seemed mostly sober, though.  Ayman decided his part in the discussion was over, so he took leave of them and headed to the hospital to check on Ava Hadid.

<>

Abby awoke to the sound of an alarm system.  Lights in her room in Green Horizons were flashing.  She quickly unplugged Einstein from the wall, put him on her wrist, and turned him on.  “There are attackers coming from several directions,” Einstein said.  “Bernard’s robots are attempting to hold them off, but the results will be questionable at best.”

Abby frowned.  “We need to get out of here, then.”  She quickly changed from her nightgown to some clothes better suited for traveling, which included jeans, boots, a white tee-shirt, and a green, air-conditioned coat.  She also picked up her bag and slung it over her arm.

She left the room and ran down the passageway, which was lined with shrubs and copper pipes.  Bernard and Winston approached her from the other direction.  “Keep heading the way you’re going,” Bernard said.  He handed her a backpack.  “Here.  Take this.”

“What’s in here?” Abby asked as she put her arms through the backpack’s loops.

“Some stuff that will help you in case we get separated,” Bernard said.

“Where are you going?” Abby asked.

“We need to secure some things before we leave,” Winston said.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll follow you out.”

“You have an electromagnetic force field projector in that bag,” Bernard said.  “Along with a portable charger for that and your camouflage projector.  There’s also a small radar jammer and some concussion bombs.”

“I won’t need those,” Abby said.

“Look,” Bernard said, glaring at her through his glasses, “I know you’ve chosen the way of non-violence, but those could be useful in other ways.  Please take them.”

Abby shrugged.  “What if you guys don’t make it out?”

“Take this passage to the end,” Bernard said.  “You’ll find your sand bike there, fixed up and fully repaired.  Head to your next destination.  If we make it out, we’ll head to Rose City and you can meet us there.”

“Is your back okay?” Winston asked.  “Do you think you’ve had enough rest?”

“I’ll manage,” Abby said.  “Looks like I’m leaving regardless.  How do you think they found us?”

“They must have used the information Averil provided them with,” Bernard said.  “As far as I know she never knew the exact location of Green Horizons, but I worked with her enough, she probably found out some things.  Enough to somehow figure things out.  She’s smart.  She might lack any morals, but I will say she was always smart.”  He frowned.

“Now get the hell out of here,” Winston said.  “You have to make it out regardless of what happens to us.  The world’s riding on you.”

“Good luck,” Bernard said with a smile.

Winston nodded.  “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too,” Abby said.  “And thanks for everything.”  She ran past them through the passage.  The passage widened until Abby found the end, where her sand bike was parked.  Two large sliding doors opened to the rocky hills surrounding Green Horizons.  Abby got on the bike, started the engine, and shot through the doors.  She looked around for any attackers as she rode through the hills and out into the desert.  “Are there any attackers nearby,” she asked Einstein as she drove.

“They appear to be bandits,” Einstein said.  “Probably working for the IAO.  It appears that Bernard’s robots have managed to hold them off long enough for your escape.  I suggest looking in that bag for the radar jammer when you have time.”  Abby nodded as she rode out into the desert, past white dunes beneath the darkening evening sky.  She wanted to make sure she was far enough away before she stopped.

When Abby was several miles away and the hills were barely visible on the horizon, she stopped on top of a dune and let the sand bike hover down into the sand.  She got off the bike and opened the bag to see what was inside.  There, like Bernard had said, were several small devices, including a radar jammer with a magnetic strip which she attached to her sand bike and turned on.  She looked out across the horizon at the hills, where she saw flames and smoke.  There was a loud bang that stunned her and several explosions filled the horizon.  Columns of dust and debris filled the sky above what used to be Green Horizons.  Abby frowned.  “I hope they made it.”

“I’m afraid it’s not likely,” Einstein said.  “I no longer detect the robots.  And the only life forms I detect are on the outskirts of the facilities.  The two life forms within the bounds of Green Horizons are no longer there.  I sense two bodies that are likely those of Bernard Parks and Winston Cooper.”

Abby frowned.  “Well, their deaths won’t be in vain.  We need to get to Drummond, though.”  She started her sand bike back up and drove through the desert, leaving the burning sky behind her.

 

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHhrZgojY1Q]

 

---

Continue on to the next chapter:

Afterlife, Volume 3, Chapter 22
Where:
The leaders of the Southwest Resistance discus the defense of Rose City.
Razor sees something that disturbs her and she flies off the handle.
Ace McCoy goes to trial for armed robbery and murder.

Find the Volume 3 Table of Contents page here.

View the Map here.

Check out Afterlife on Goodreads and don’t forget to rate it.

Check out Michael Monroe’s page on Amazon to find other stuff he’s written.
Like Afterlife on Facebook to find out when the next chapter is posted.
Follow Afterlife on Twitter to get updates on new postings and other news.
Follow Afterlife on Tumblr for access to supplemental material.