Deep Destruction

By John Leader

It takes expert skill to overrun and kill for food and supplies when an iron hand sets the law. It takes ruthless thinking and sadistic morals when you lie and build false bridges with scattered factions like the Cave Dwellers or the Sand People, and you must recruit savage fighters who excel at bloodletting. And everyone knows you must survive and for that you must make new law whether anyone agrees or not. But more important you must deal with the weak if you wish to lead, to rule, to take total control, and you must destroy any who oppose you. For that you need the best technology, the deadliest fighters, and best minds you can coerce.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Leader
• Release date: Jun 19, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458016638

John Leader

John Leader enjoys writing science fiction, his first choice. He writes horror just as well. He works using commercial arts techniques and creates his own book covers. His science fiction stories take on action adventure themes.He reads general and technical magazines and books when he can find good materials.He is a part time martial arts practitioner and is familiar with a variety of defense systems.

Book preview

DEEP DESTRUCTION

by

John Leader

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Deep Destruction

By John Leader

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2017 John Leader

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashword.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Published Titles by John Leader

Ebooks :Sci-Fi

Sankor Sangres: Mercenary For Hire

Space Retriever: Mike Long

Zodiac Clans

Zero Effect

Short Stories – Sci-Fi:

Courage For Profit (Sample)

Four Short Stories – Space Warrior 60,400.111102

Six Short Stories – Space Warrior 60,400.111103

Six Short Stories – Space Warrior BOOK IV 60,400.111104

Horror:

The Horror Of Skull Face

My Love, My Hate, And My Voodoo Murders

Zombie Love Stories

Humor: Alien Jokes / Joke To Joke

Children’s Books: Fiction

My Green Potato Monster

The Boy With Animal Friends

The Girl With Animal Friends

The Strange Stories of Mr. Murkadew

The Eye Q Game

Non-Fiction EBook:

Educational – Early Childhood and Pre-K

Brainy Kids Book I: Pre-K Activities (Pre-Reading/Pre-Writing/Art)

Brainy Kids BOOK II: Pre-K Activities (Reading/ Social Studies/ Health)

Brainy Kids Book III: Pre-K Activities (Writing/Math/Science)

Pre-K Puppets: Illustrated

Simple Counting: Bulldozers

Simple Counting: Monkeys

Pomes For Little Children

Quick Arts And Crafts

What a Letter Says

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Find your format at your E-Book store.

Click on John Leader to see all titles.

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Contents

One

A Deadly Paragon Germinates

Two

A Desperate Trek

Three

The Reaper Casts A Macabre Shadow

Four

An Impugned Veil

Five

Extemporaneous Perils

Six

Tribulation In The Wind

Seven

Sanguine Desire

Eight

Peril Strikes Disaster

Nine

The Stretched Web

Ten

The Day of Cobra

Eleven

Deciduous Blandishment

Twelve

The Interminable Gauntlet

Thirteen

The Cry Of Destruction

Fourteen

Madness From Space

About the Author

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Email Address**

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DEEP DESTRUCTION

by

John Leader

One

A Deadly Paragon Germinates

In the beginning the universe was formed, the gleaming heavens and the earth, and then man evolved grasping dominion over all, especially over other men, and when possible over their minds. Generations of people came and went in the progression of things. The centuries flowed and time burned on. Few remembered the space shuttle Columbia that initiated space flight, the volcanic eruption of Mt. St. Helen that was quickly forgotten and so were the life-taking craters caused by limestone dissolving underground. These long gone disasters were little remembered events considered by some as minor historic disasters. Other historic disasters appeared with little warning that came and left. Cities governments ignored chemicals that oozed from hidden underground springs which were left unprotected in dump sites and that were quickly forgotten until contamination, damage, illness and death occurred.

Man continued to litigate and search for solutions to self-imposed problems. But time never rested and the centuries wandered on while man glorified himself with the progress that surrounded him. And why not? His struggles had conquered neuron-organ and limb regeneration processes which were great victories when one considered their mild limitations required in regenerating them. Technologies including laser techniques had soared, and they became tools a child could manipulate as easily as a flashlight. Even the ultimate war ceased in time and thrust man into new revived scientific pursuits with deeper research aims instead of war expansionism plans.

Mother Earth, too, grew and changed, but never as much as during Bront Lacid and his lifetime. Mankind, like Bront Lacid, would helplessly feel the growing pains of the earth and its volcanic womb, and like Bront, mankind would encounter the damage and the reckless forces they failed to control. For Bront the start of the events were rooted in a single family tragedy. It came as an uncontrolled and ugly global episode that signaled the end of civilized and social growth. It marked the world and humanity with a horrific open scar. The destructive change and fear was reflected in an article that inflicted controversial theories on the electronic pages of the Journal of the Informed, a weekly newspaper considered to be an irresponsible rag by the established scientific community.

Rumors of the forthcoming bloodletting began when renowned scientists swarmed The World Science Academy Center with their brains lunged into seeking a desperate solution. Public pressure mounted quickly and the momentous opinions of the scientists—-coupled with the daily reality of the exploding volcanic threats—-forced a public announcement. The scientists could no longer hold the menacing secret back. The coming of a catastrophic event of monumental proportions was publicly broadcast to every corner of the world. Fragmentation of the earth crust would release uncontrollable magma and create random volcanic activity with tragic consequences for the total of mankind.

Controversy held strong as arguments raged on with doubts between the scientists and incriminations that arrowed freely among the world governments, but the top scientists maintained total agreement about certain specific facts. Under bitter breaths they were forced to declare that sudden volcanic eruptions and terrifying earthquakes would alter the earth and possibly lead to a partial collapse of social order. Had they really believed the ramifications of a social collapse they could have better prepared for the unforeseen and tragic future awaiting them all. But, they had done so well and the future looked so good, and the scientists felt they could find a solution.

From the dim onset numerous geologists confronted the dilemma against the destined and ticking clock. Other experts in the fields of physical geology, physics and specialized volcanologists extrapolated dead end solutions. Theories were analyzed and interwoven with difficulty as the different science groups contrived several plausible but controversial theories. One faction urgently pointed to evidence demonstrating that secrete underground atomic bomb testing had been directly responsible. They supported the idea that stress generated over a damaging period of multiple decades had cascaded to build up and create a maze of interconnecting underground weak links and an overheating of the tectonic plates.

Even the historians rattled their facts over the controversial dilemma. Their historic finds coupled with the nuclear physicists supporting formulas indicated how surface piercing missiles surely triggered the building pressure inside the crest of the Earth. The masses tasted terror as the menacing occurrences started to bloom in their mist. With life spans increased and memories fresh, many could visualize an earlier time when a near blood filled doomsday nuclear war shattered lives. It was time when earthquake missiles flew and pierced the curst of diverse regions in major countries. The confined and underground shattering blasts were intended to detonate deep inside of the Earth after penetrating the subterranean layer and digging deep into the crust of the earth. The idea was to reduce fallout and destroy transport movement through hot lava spills and unexpected quakes in order to chain processing plants to a standstill. A strategy designed to quickly win wars.

All out doomsday war was narrowly avoided after several regions exhibited the magnitude and destruction of the thermo nuclear damage and its effects. Its destruction served a sufficient example that quickly drew the armed giants into swift arbitration. That was all fine except that a few undetermined scattered missiles remained lost in the rush to saturate the opposite side ahead of the other. News of the missing death traps was kept quiet and immediately stamped classified. The officials thought it best to avoid panic and probably the guillotine effect. It was logically assumed that the weakened crust was further damaged by the bizarre missiles detonating underground and thereby compounding the existing pressure and doomsday disaster. Others believed that the radioactive material of the missiles had upset the hot mantel stability of the earth and had produced an unstable equilibrium state that overheated the liquefied magma calderas.

The astronomers outlined their story with the word Super Nova. They presented heavy evidence to substantiate their exhaustive figures about a nova containing fifty-thousand times the power of our own sun exploding and catapulting a solar system into our vicinity. The complexity increased with the combined gravitational pull of the alien planets which added space pull to the ruptured crust of our own ailing Earth crust breaking apart. This was logical, the astronomers said, due the smallest planet from the exploding nova which measured larger than Jupiter. In their lost orbit they neared our solar system and created divesting problems of attraction as the planets passed within our solar system and near the Earth. The astronomic analysis pointed to numerous dense and fast spinning bodies that worked against our weakened earth and its fracturing crust.

The staggered truth related to the dangerous matter was that part or all of the documentation supported the cited irrational quakes and volcanic flows burning the earth apart. Even with all attempts to stop the problem menacing events continued. It was desperately clear that a solution appeared out of reach and that the climax would peak and decide the fate of the Earth.

Days after the unbelieving disclosure, Bront, like others, endured deep-hearted and painful branding. The uncontrollable volcanic melee caused tragedy and among the first victims were Bront’s family of three when his entire neighborhood exploded into a fiery volcano in which no one had time to act. Yet, the ever present danger kept everyone working harder and faster. Most people turned to friends for comfort and strategy. Unfortunately, with deep-hearted sadness Bront desperately moved to a new job. Six weeks whirled past him as he shaped up his processing department under the increased work load and demands from disaster areas for water and food stuff.

Time faded for Bront with the painful loss of his family. He had lost his close family two haunting years earlier in the first catastrophic scene, and he moved to forget his family, guilt, and frustration with the help of alcohol. Before the catastrophe Bront worked as a top notch troubleshooting security analyst and science expert. But he sank beneath acceptance and was fired. In desperate times no one had time to think of or care for slackers. Logically, he took the next opened job. At half his old salary, he felt it required half his effort. The lack of materials goods was quickly canceling the need for any kind of electronic monetary exchange. Bront refused to be a problem to anyone and he desperately needed to forget. That was why this job was important to him and he often thought of it as a solution of last resorts.

He had one sought out prized skill. He was good at finding, retrieving, or making materials goods needed in mass. In exchange his alcoholic episodes were ignored as long as he kept the food and needed material coming. One monstrous spark floated in the explosive air and reached the tiniest hidden corner of every city. Under fear and extreme tension it created intimidation for all people as the two years of deep-seated turmoil clawed deeply with little recourse for anyone including Bront. Many sudden and damaging twists swooped and harassed the innocent regardless of bigoted slants or unified concepts. Episodes of chaotic turmoil and raging mob rule broke out randomly at the slightest sound of a sneeze or harmless stare. The people continued to forcibly savor the mounting fear and ruthless tension which rasped tender nerves into senseless behaviors of lunacy. It was not enough that the planet might survive the massive bombardment of abuse along with some cruel manner of disenchantment, but the people were to forcefully taste the blustering forge of a desperate and changing social life regardless of their good intent.

The last remaining facets of corporate structures were set to shut down when final word arrived and marked the decisive last balance of cohesive social structure. Like everyone else Bront made some plans, mainly to leave his life to a higher order. Between his guilt, job, and drinking, he barely kept abreast of changing events that transpired around him, and he cared less about the dangerous implications and secretive overt actions taken by a few who warned other to prepare. His place to go and last retreat was well marked in his alcohol soaked mind. When all went to hell he must head to the secrete camp site he and his family had enjoyed during vacations. For now he waited for corporate word to come down that all was shutting down. It was difficult to track those who pilfered as much as they could as they sought to survive should the disaster lend them a second life.

Bront sat contemplating disgust fostered by mixed emotions when Fred Jackson rushed by his opened door. Bront often left his office door slotted open letting his blind eye peek out when he needed to capture someone or expected important VIPs. Not long ago the personnel in his corporate building were ordered to arm themselves when news of mob take over became sporadic and senseless. No one was safe but Bront shuck off the order as nonsense, and he had left the weapon in his lower desk drawer along with his ever empty brandy bottle not always filled with brandy.

Bront tilted his head out the brown plastic door built of a metal ribbed structure and yelled down the red lit corridor on emergency power.

Hey, Fred, step in here a minute! Bront raised his arm motioning.

Yeah! shouted Fred, keying in on the only head bulging into the red tinted corridor.

I’ll be there, Bront. Just give me a couple of seconds to view the computer console! Fred yelled back as he dashed off.

Bront went back to his cushiony green chair and called Mrs. Davis, one of the few secretaries left. She stood tall, of husky bones, and spent most of her free time in the corporate owned beautician shop, her best place for news from the high ranking wives of key administrators. Quickly Bront glanced up as her perfume diluted his office and he rubbed his sensitive nose wondering if his space might normalize fast enough when she left.

Mrs. Davis, Bront said. You have my work schedules and feel free to handle things as usual. I’ll be in the corporate lounge for a few hours of sleep.

Bront had filled in for Fred Jackson as he sometimes did when Fred was out and looking for black marketing parts for the processing food plant.

Mrs. Davis reassured Bront. Yes sir. Don’t worry. If I have any questions I’ll go straight to Jackson for consultation. She turned to leave and noticed Fred as he walked in with his blue overalls wrapped with a black holster and proud laser as she passed Fred on her way out.

She left before Fred chanced a word with her and he pressed a stance rather perpendicular in front of Bront’s paper riddled desk as he leaned his right forearm on the blinking computer console with a revealing serious facial expression. Fred’s apprehensive face exposed big trouble as Bront looked up and sort of guessed the situation. Clearing his trembling throat Fred repeated the impending words.

We’re finally cut off. Last word has come down. We are on our own. The corporate building has a few more hours of power left. There is someone jamming all communication circuits out there and with little power and food left in this area it’s going to open for mob control. If you have anywhere to go now is the time!

Fred turned to leave and stopped. Oh, one thing. The lava and quaking are to peak soon, sometime soon … no one knows when. If we survive the volcanic and quake problems, some say the dilemma will start dyeing down.

Bront stood to question Fred but before Bront uttered a sound Fred sped out pushing through the filling corridor as his blue overalls turned purplish in the red light. There was little left and Bront grabbed his briefcase almost in a panic and then he remembered he had no family or close friends nearby. Caught in the aimless escape Bront took a slow paced walk inside the panic stricken building. The fear in the halls thickened and was far from quieting as many tried to avoid crowded doors. Fighting broke the tension momentarily followed by laser blasts from a few bullying men attempting to leave the building through the tight crowd. The instigators had little chance and were instantly trampled by the forceful mob that simple saw them as a threat to hurdle and downed them instinctively leaving the six sturdy men semiconscious with puffy bruises and bloody trickles.

The self preservation of the crowd kept Bront from being noticed by them as he walked calmly toward the basement and his corporate transport. He had forgotten to leave the coded card and keys with the attendant who was long gone now. The key rack holding the coded cards to unlock the transports were all gone. A single transport stood showing discolored laser shots on the reinforced armored door. Each transport was ordered equipped with supplies by the top executives who kept their larger and private transports away from the staff vehicles knowing well mobs were difficult to control in life threatening emergencies. Reports had mentioned mobs taking over facilities. Hospital with overflowing injured people was also hit, and the mobs had killed doctors even as they continued serving the injured as they arrived. In the end demanding mobs overran the few medical facilities rendering them useless from destruction and out breaks of bloody violence.

Times were hardening and slowly over the next two years the land had filled with cracked landscapes and incrusted volcanic springs. Eventually cities became cut off from each other and transit systems failed with collector energizing units difficult to replace from devastated production plants. Food and water were scarce without stability in sight and the mini-processing plants temporarily set up were running out of precious material goods. During all this time Bront camped in the mountains where his family had once enjoyed the natural world. He had no idea how badly the swiveling events were growing or how close the barbaric dangers passed around him. A deadly turning was in the air, one he would soon experience.

The only things that came from the hot volcanic action and land shifts were the mineral deposits that evolved. The tremendous pressure and heat yielded crystal beds never before possible under ordinary conditions. It took two eroding year to expose the rich mineral beds which specked the landscape everywhere. The only problem was that everyone was too busy trying to survive to notice. Spontaneous violence united groups closer together and as events desperately churned to the point of mere survival hostile walls went up separating those who had from those who didn’t.

With enough supplies collected Bront spent months in the mountains unaware of the growing social hostility. It wasn’t enough that millions of people had died through starvation and disease in the last balancing months but criminal mobs gathered disregarding human life and exercising their callous rule.

Chaos slowly destroyed equality and those who had tasted absolute rule refused to yield to just authority. Social order was recovering but now regions of no man’s land existed creating all sorts of fatalistic problems.

Bront finally ran out of food and since he still remained alive after the catastrophe peaked he decided to return to the nearest town for food. He was little aware of the deadly struggles and sadden conditions which awaited him. He should have smelled the deterioration when he found his transport missing or during the four hours short cut back to the small town. It was empty of all living inhabitants and strong connecting evidence of group destruction littered the brunt town.

Half hungry he gathered what little supplies he managed to hunt down from the middle of the charred town and added it to his half stuffed backpack. Searching near an arsenal for useful canned and packaged food stuff he dug out a hand laser capable of ionizing a man or mouse up to one-hundred yards. It was nearly buried under a totally collapsed file case next to a broken full range transmitter and other damaged equipment. The red glowing bulb meant the laser held a six hour charge and he aimed it at a long two inch thick metal bar across the room vaporizing it into glimmering sparkles that floated somewhat like diamonds in brilliant sun light. Bront secured the laser after activating the adjuster locking the weapon and allowing it to fire only in his hand unless readjusted with a series of steps. Without minor hesitation he sheathed the laser into his back pocket on the point of threading. He collected his abraded green backpack and headed out to the next city, a two day ride by transport, but seemly endless by foot.

At the end of the first exasperating day Bront stopped in a gully. It was partly filled with a harden-black lava spill, various igneous rock formations and a wall covered from ceiling to floor with colorless to bluish barite crystals that dazzled in the setting sun light. As the golden sun disappeared Bront unpacked a seismic and volcanic monitoring devise which doubled as a direction finder. He adjusted the alarm and placed the devise next to his dry hair and skin flaked ear while he faded deeply into sleep.

But Bront was not alone as he struggled to avoid earthly dangers. Miles off in a slopping desert region surround by patches of refined magma grains and sand stood two groups cautiously coming together to exchange materials. You could easily see the sand and magma mixed along an area holding the worn rivers of magma spun on the desert into graying trails that faded and rose as far as the eye stretched. One armed group was lead by Dr. Ramsey, a genius in various fields, who spoke for preparation at the onset of the catastrophe. The other group formed the growing famed Skulls who controlled most of no man’s land or unprotected territories, and were lead by Dr. Dagger nicknamed Blood Skull because of his cruel practices. Their chosen insignia a skull with the established reputation of death for anyone who opposed them especially the weak and those with little or no technology.

The opposing groups agreed to meet and exchange food for alloying ores. Neither trusted the other especially the treacherous Skulls who exercised ruthless morals and who gladly ignored normal scruples. For that reason Dr. Ramsey ordered his people to bring concealed weapons and keep them at hand if trouble snared during the exchange. If they hadn’t needed the metal and tungsten ores for armor, tools and gravity converters that were required in the alloying process Dr. Ramsey would have refused the trade. Besides, only the Skulls controlled and mind the mineral deposits outside the protected cities. The cities had the processing plants and harvested food which they traded for valuable raw type materials.

It was a trade of survival and wits as the two groups slowly approached each other near sun set on the desert sands. The two huge opposing transports neared and halted with a red sun innocently coloring the area.

Do you have the metal? Ramsey shouted from a far intending to complete the transaction as fast as possible.

Yes, we have the metal ore. Dr. Dagger shouted across the empty distance as he signaled his men to ready plan black attack. His grin was as deceiving as his word.

If they slyly captured Dr. Ramsey his city would fall without a fight and they’d possess food culturing plants and in turn increase their power. The Skulls took their time hauling the ore crates out to the midpoint between the two groups. They cunningly stalled insuring a second transport time to sneak up behind Ramsey. As the sun fell the Head Hunter’s second transport coasted behind a mountain from whose top the entire transaction was visible and a cinch for a man and a scoped laser. Ramsey suspected something like this and had ordered a second transport which arrived from another direction. Within seconds the squads of opposing men reached the top of the mountain. All hell broke the quiet as laser fire illuminated into an all out battle. The groups of men jumped around entangled in the hot subliminal cloud forms directly energized from solids that hissed into steaming, hot, vapor as the laser fire touched solid formations aimed at human targets.

When they unloaded the ore Ramsey and his nice planned to transfer to the transport behind the mountain in case the trade became a trap. They had climbed up along the side of the broken rock trail unnoticed when laser flashes illuminated the upper section of the dark rocky mountain. Around them laser fire shot everywhere and Ramsey and his nice dropped behind solid cover as ricochet blipped and burned by. Ramsey and his men were beating the treacherous Skulls when six more Skull transports arrived equipped with heaver weapons and started blasting the transports apart and hacked the men into dismembered pieces. During the bloody assault Ramsey and his niece secretly crawled away between the rocks and passed around the mountain base as they headed out into the desert night mist and a smaller mountain group they had passed earlier in the day on their way to the rendezvous. They wanted make distance and disappear before certain pursuit.

The Skulls swept up the metal and food but lost Ramsey in the deal. Dagger ordered three pincer robots much like hounds out on Ramsey and the new laid trail, and, although the pincers were slow they never rested and that gave then a razor edge against any physical man. The other black Skull transports spread out looking for Ramsey as they headed into the increasing sand storm. The lawless leader knew better than to trust the pincer robots against a wise and dangerously cunning man like Ramsey who knew more than one way to jerk the robots off his trail through electronic trickery.

Ramsey and his niece trampled into deep trouble while the early morning moved Bront straight into a desperate path that would force a perilous rendezvous between them. The cool morning disappeared as the heat took over and Bront walked gazing across the bright horizon following his preconceived direction. Far off on the horizon he spotted some mountains he felt he recognized and where he could find rest. Passed sunny scorched noon he reached several feet of bone bleached rocks marking the desert region separating him from what he remembered as civilization. The geology changed landforms as the crust crumpled under the lava rushes and earthquakes.

Bront struggled against the hot, drying heat that squeezed sweat from his punished body as the high sun struck hard making the flowing wind feel like a super glowing alloying-metal furnace. The sponging effect dried his nose and caused his parched throat to itch, his body felt similar to dehydrated protein. After the first burning day Bront favored to travel by night as he dozed under the menacing heat of the day. A small cloth made from bandages protected his sun bathed face under a hot shaded drowsy sleep. On the night of a full golden moon a strong sand storm whipped up like a thick brownish fog and it swallowed all that its path touched. It thrashed viciously against Bront as he blindly headed for the mountains barely visible as they faded like dark shadows in the storm which vengefully attacked him. The sand blower effect tore and easily rasped his clothes and exposed skin. In this travesty Bront would have given his valuable backpack for some goggles to shield his reddening eyes from the peeling sand blasts. His only chance was protection from the mindless sharp grains biting him like needles flying dangerous through the air. He realized the best protection lay around a rocky section as he lurched ahead and walked for the mountains which glimmered beyond in the thick gusts of grinding sand.

Desperate efforts prompted Bront on and he walked almost blindly in the sand storm until he hit the foot of the granite mountain base. He continued on scraping along its massive coarse wall as he lowered his head, the sand storm gusting and blinding him as he felt his way and pressed against the porous rocky base as he desperately sought cover from the raging sand storm. Suddenly, the grainy stone wall curved and the sand blasts slowed as he plunged into a blurred rocky entrance forming the gloomy front of a tar black cave. Sand riddled to exhaustion, a bloody finger hurting and pulsing, Bront quickly stepped deep into the cave leaving the thrashing danger outside. The shelter was exalting relief and as he pierced calmly through the black void of the forgiving cave a painful thump cracked his dusty head. It was the ultimate exhaustion as Bront tumbled head first into the sandy cave floor landing completely unconscious.

Two people stood in the cave, Dr. Ramsey and his niece, who quickly showed a dying light and inspected the intruder.

Is he dead, Uncle Ramsey? His niece questioned as her eyes looked for a stir from Bront.

No Londy, and I can say for sure he’s not one of us. Noted Ramsey looking at Bront wrapped in rags of grey with his dull green backpack fixed to his back.

As Dr. Ramsey searched Bront his niece grabbed a larger rock lifting it with weak, trembling hands over Bront’ and his duty hair and head to crush his skull.

No, Londy! Dr. Ramsey shouted looking into her frightened face. We don’t just kill people without a trail nor provocation. It’s irrational and very wrong, Londy! He said worried that she had sneaked into the transport for the ore trade.

They tied Bront up with some of his own rags and Londy sat with a sharp rock in her hand. The storm pounded several times spraying sand into the dim cave during the night. Morning was a welcomed sight. The vivid gaze from inside the cave focused far without on the sunny day, the sand storm well over. Bront tossed in the middle of the morning and, shortly, blurry eyed, and with a sluggish Bront found movement in his tangled body. He was flat on his stomach when Ramsey placed his sturdy black boot strongly at his back exposing a brown-baked neck.

Who are you and where did you come from? Dr. Ramsey demanded putting pressure with his boot on Brunt at the back of his tanned neck.

My name is Bront. Ramsey eased the pressure as Bront talked in a more normal voice, Bront Lacid. I’ve traveled from Cobas. I stayed in the mountains a couple of miles outside the city. I was up there four maybe six months. Someone stole my transport and I ran out of food. The city was deserted so I’m headed back to Talimus and the Ingus Corporation where I worked last. It’s a processing plant.

Why? For what reason? questioned Ramsey.

Bront was not sure how to answer as Ramsey looked at Londy. Bront showed a red skinned nose.

Where are you going? Ramsey asked trying to figure out if Bront might be trusted.

Bront responded. I’m going back to my job at Talimus.

Somewhat satisfied Ramsey removed his foot off of Bront relieving the pain at his neck. Ramsey then studied him as he informed him of the latest events.

You knew we were losing people by the hundreds when the disaster began its ruin? Ramsey told Bront.

Yes, of course. Everyone knew of the catastrophe. Bront said from his bound position.

Well then, Ramsey continued. Did you know we have no way of definitely telling how many have actually survived?

Ramsey critically searched Bront’s eyes for any reaction that might betray him. Bront, at first, had confused eyes and he failed to grasp the meaning behind the words. Ramsey told Bront about their situation, the Skull group and some of the other crucial dilemmas. For the first time Bront raised himself from his long self-imposed ignorance. A Pandora’s Box had been opened for him and he began to understand why some of the top corporate leaders kept loading supplies and materials when they thought no one was watching. Bront thought he had been working for all the people at the plant facilities not just a handful of people.

Deterioration must have been setting in for a long time. It must be that all social order as he knew it had tumbled and a new lifestyle, of survivors, had emerged. Ramsey continued talking as Bront digested the information. The idea of justice was now torn by the growing struggle for food and materials. Bront never believed things would reach such irreversible proportions and neither had most people in government.

Ramsey had said it before, problems were surfacing and confusion setting up against any social route.

With no stability ahead a trying time of survival had set in for Bront, the people that managed to survive had already been facing hard times.

Two

A Desperate Trek

Trust in Bront waited under the threatening surroundings and Ramsey tugged at the knots to make sure they were tight as the three lined out of the cave and into the distant dying sand storm seen to one side of the cave. For three miles Bront led as Ramsey traced a line with the feather triggered laser on his back as the target point weaved between vital heart and spine on Bront. No trap sprung as they stopped to rest near a pile of jagged rocks and broken boulders where Ramsey handed Londy the laser. His tired hand was replaced by her delicate touch and dirty-black finger nails. Ramsey quickly climbed a large sand-polished boulder. The boulder height matched Bront at his shoulder. As Bront stood Ramsey snapped a small pill from his belt pack and squatted down. He signaled Bront to near and open his mouth. With a finger flicking motion he popped the pill easily into Bront’s mouth.

Don’t spit it out. It’ll increase your metabolism and stimulate your adrenal glands and refresh you. You’ll need the extra strength to carry me the next twenty miles, Ramsey told Bront. Bront stared and fixed his vision on the desert especially where it met the glazed, white-hot sky.

We’re being trailed, if I suspect Dagger at all, by pincer robots and the scent absent from the ground will confuse them and slow them down. They don’t know your scent is mixed with mine. That metabolic pill is experimental but we’ve no choice.

Cautiously, Ramsey avoided telling Bront the dangerous pill will enhance him with the physical strength of eight or ten men for several hours if it does not kill him in the next few seconds of biochemical reaction. Londy loosened his hands and Bront rubbed his sore muscles as Londy stepped back. As ordered, Londy walked some ten to twenty feet behind them with instructions to shoot if Bront caused trouble.

The wax bubbling heat pressed down on them and for twelve miles as they forcibly continued against their physical exhaustion and their deep desire for rest. Off at a distance a wall of heat waves wiggled in the heat as they neared a cracked and parched terrain different from the desert sand but just as hot and draining. Ramsey ordered Bront to turn and head for a cliff hang with hot lava flowing below it. Wet with