Beginning: The Shadow Family - A Near Future

By Philipp Schmidt

The tale of the team's first mission on the dark streets of Berlin and Edinburgh.
Shadow Hunters Fleck, Sligo, Musk, Wasp, Orca and Bulldog come together and soon find themselves in a struggle for survival.
Will they make it?
A breathtaking story begins.

The world of the End of Time Series:

Years 2038 to 2060.
These are dark years, years of chaos, years of upheaval.
Megacorporations have seized power and taken over
most governments. Cartels and gangs dominate the
streets. The world is on the brink of collapse.
The Gutter Guardian's survival stands between light and shadow, between good and evil, soon so will the fate of the entire planet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Mar 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071533451

Book preview

Beginning

The Shadow Family

A Near Future

Part 1

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by

Philipp Schmidt

Statement by the author

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All actions, characters and dialogues in this series are fictional. Similarities with living persons and / or their actions; with companies, organizations etc. are purely coincidental. The author attaches importance to the explicit statement that possible similarities in names between fictitiously mentioned corporations and actually existing ones are and must be absolutely arbitrary, since crimes and planned crimes as they are described in the individual volumes would not be conceivable at all in a time like ours, which is oriented towards sustainability, fairness and human rights.

Clear the stage!

10/4/2038

I don't know who you are, but my name is Fleck. Of course, that's not what the woman called me who pushed me out from between her thighs and then immediately abandoned me. Doc gave me the name – But shit, I won’t tell you about him until later.

I'm sitting in the City Library in Berlin-Mitte, or, more accurately, what's left of it. They way I heard it, it was targeted for a bombing raid during the last major corporate war, intentionally or unintentionally. But that doesn't matter, because nobody is interested in books anymore – no one except for me and the rats. The rustling and nibbling of the little rodents doesn’t creep me out anymore. Sometimes, as a generous gift among equals, I even drop a few crumbs of my snack on the floor on purpose. I come here every day. I sneak through the rubble, squeeze my way through the narrow air shaft and climb up the remains of the stairs. It's quite a workout, I can tell you that, but I've had the practice and I’m in pretty good shape. The reward for my efforts is more than just the rotting books, although I love to read them. The biggest reason why I come to the library every day is the main computer, which miraculously still works and is still connected to the rest of the world via the old network. It is my secret. Even Doc doesn’t know about it.

So I come here every day. But only from 9 in the morning to 4:30; it's autumn so twilight starts at 6pm. And after nightfall, a girl like me should not go out on the streets anymore. Not just because of the gangs. At dusk, the Revenants crawl out of their hiding places; and, even worse, those creatures we call Pipers, who can appear anywhere at any time. It makes me shudder to think about what still roams the darkness: those creatures that crawled out of our nightmares and into reality after the Great Contamination and are after more than just our lives.

I need a good hour to get from the heart of the library to the vacant Canal Street, so I do not have much time left. So in medias res, as Doc tends to say.

I grew up in a suburb, and with hindsight, it's a mystery how I survived my childhood. If I have met my parents at all, I can not remember them. But I can remember Nimble Socks, the gang that took me in and fed me. At the time, we stayed afloat with pickpocketing and small scams using water, but stupidly spent most of our haul on Ultra Violet . No exaggeration, this drug was my mother and father at the same time. When I was tripping, I felt carefree and secure - like a toddler bonding safely with its parent—until the effect faded and left behind the wreck of sadness and senselessness I had been without it.

Four years ago, I came to the main city with a team from Nimble Socks, where we wanted to negotiate with a middleman from the large NEW-KOTW company; 'to make stances clear', as they said before. And that happened too, although one-sided.

We were not the only ones who showed up at the rendezvous point. Representatives from at least 20 other groups were waiting in the large, abandoned parking lot. Finally, three vans drove up, stopped across the street, and hooded figures with assault rifles jumped out. Instead of the promised negotiation, the company let the bullets speak for them, without warning. In the middle of the rattling of the guns and the cries of those who had fallen, I let myself fall. I don’t know how long the shock lasted, how long I stayed there, not daring to even move a finger. But when I noticed the enticing sounds of the Piper, I opened my eyes. Jenny, who had been kind of like a big sister to me, was staring at me, her face ashen and frozen. Panicked, I jumped up and started to run. I ran and ran until the world spun around me so much that I had to stop. I let myself sink down the wall of a house and stuffed the rest of my supply of UV into my dry mouth. It would have made more sense to have me executed with the others right away, I thought, just before my blood took up the high dosage of the drug and harshly yanked me into a black mist.

When I came to my senses, a broad, pockmarked face was bent over me. The mouth was open and grinned, releasing the stink of soy mixed with gastric acid. I wanted to choke, but my body did not react. The bleary, green eyes seemed to recognize my fear, because the crooked mouth began to speak.

No worries, kid, he said soothingly, the sedative will wear off soon and you will be able to move again. I'm a street doctor, my name is Richard Dreifuss.

"But everyone just calls me Doc," the old man added warmly, stroking my arm with his calloused hand.

The whole time that I couldn’t move, he did not leave my side. He just crouched next to me and told stories. I couldn’t say how much of it he had actually experienced himself and what he freely invented, but his stories reassured me a little. He talked and talked while I desperately held on to his voice. When he finally ran out of stories, he took a sip from his cup and said: Your old life is over. I don’t know what brought you here and you don’t need to explain anything to me. Anyway, you can stay here if you like. I had been able to blink in approval for an hour. I did it and he continued. Good. I didn’t find you from two blocks away by chance. It had just started to snow—A strange combination, a dying junkie and the glittering, white innocence on your dark hair. We can call you Fleck, what do you think? You can work for me and start a new life.

Touched, I quickly blinked again and my eyes filled with tears. That’s how I met Doc. I don’t know if he would have made this generous offer if he had known just how violent the next couple weeks of withdrawal would be.

Heartbreaking.

Hey little Fleck, are you talking to that great Anonymous again? Forget him, there's nobody out there - just you and me, baby.

I totally forgot about him. A Russian named Piotr is butting in with the instant chat app; he allegedly spent several years in Germany and is also a TOTAL IDIOT. It’s on me since I am writing on an online dating forum, because its server somehow survived the great wars. Maybe you will find my post because you are like me (and unfortunately also Piotr): a survivor with random access to the old network. To be honest, I hope that you will find my thread somewhere else. Doc says there are high-security Zones that even the corporations do not dare to go, and if you believe the rumors, space-time is going crazy there. Since I neither am super rich nor live in a corporate village, I don’t have access to the new network of Dynamic-Sys (nicknamed Daisy), and so I communicate in this way. It could be possible that the old fiber optic cables still work in this Zone and are somehow transmitting my signal to you. I imagine that you live in a time before everything went to the crapper, with no Pipers or Revenants dominating the night. And who knows, maybe you can help to make this world become less shitty.

Come on baby, you're all I’ve got. I can’t even admire the green sky in this cursed Moscow without a radiation suit. And the dreary sight of looting the dead profiles has certainly been detrimental to my mental health ...

A LITTLE LATE FOR THAT SENTIMENT, IDIOT!

Okay, it’s almost half past five, I have to go. I beg you to write back if you exist. I'll get back to you tomorrow.

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11/02/2038

Sorry that you didn’t hear from me for so long. When I started to write, I had no idea what a turn my life would take. Now I have a really crazy story to tell.

Everything started after my last entry. I slipped through rubble outside the library and scurried across the abandoned streets. Although our neighborhood is not as tightly sealed off as the corporate villages, we also have checkpoints. The guards at the south barricade recognized me, rolled the wheeled gate inward, and waved me through. The flashing neon signs, which we use to keep control over the shadows all night, were just barely being switched on as I headed straight for home. The skyscraper used to be 20 storeys high, but the upper 10 collapsed and only the lower 10 remain. But even the facade of the lower half has cracks because of frequent earthquakes.

The elevator was half open in the lobby, although it is broken, of course. As usual, I passed it and took the fire escape. Panting, I got to the sixth floor and walked to the door, past the windows that are nailed. Next to the door, my foster-father's metal sign was attached to the wall. R.D. General and quantum doctor. I knocked and tried to get in, but the door was locked. I took out my key and turned it until it clicked softly. There was an suppressed mumble of voices inside, which abruptly fell silent as I pulled the door shut behind me. Patients? That was unusual; usually patients come alone. I entered the waiting room, which after work, we used as a living room. Definitely not patients. Next to the Doc, four people sat on the cushions. An attractive woman in a tight-fitting, buttoned latex coat, and a man with a three-day beard, a black flap over his left eye, and knee-high combat boots on his crossed legs. Then there was a dim-looking giant and a gaunt journeyman. He hid his right hand under a baggy, synthetic fur vest lightning fast as soon as I stepped in the doorway. No worries, Doc said quickly, that’s Fleck. I can vouch for her.

Then he turned to me: Hello. We were just talking about you. This is Wasp, Alpha alias Musk, Lupus and Fox.

We're friends, said the man with the eyepatch. His voice was friendly, but there was something in the undertone that I couldn’t place right away. Maybe a suppressed sadness.

I just nodded and settled in the last empty seat. All right, Doc said suddenly, I'll leave you all alone.

He left, and based on the noise, I realized that he was doing my chores, which were just to clean and maintain his equipment.

The man named Alpha-alias-Musk folded his hands in his lap and looked at me piercingly. We discussed everything with your mentor. He agrees that you can join us – if you want to.

All of a sudden I realized that the four of them were Shadow Hunters, also called Asphalt Dancers or Gutter Guardians. So the daring soldiers of fortune of our time are called. They are usually hired by corporations for tasks that they don’t want to do themselves for fear of getting their own hands dirty. The two-class society has panned out ideally for the corporations. To them, we in the ghettos are no more than stray cats for them to throw treats to so we will do tricks. And the Shadow Hunters did these tricks.

Slow down, the woman said softly. What am I wearing under my coat, kid?

A test. Ever since I quit UV, something in my perception changed. If I squinted in a certain way, I could easily see things that were still hidden to everyone else. So far I've never used this ability. It freaked me out and I’m afraid I’ll get stuck. FLAG Doc still insisted on giving me a check-up once a month. In the last check-up, I told him about my weird cross-eyed technique in a passing comment. He was obviously interested and drilled me with questions.

I focused on the woman in this weird way. Behind the latex, I could see a serrated knife in her belt, two automatic pistols in shoulder holsters, and an amulet hanging from a leather strap around her slender neck. I listed what I saw and the giant’s jaw dropped. A seer. Well, she's got talent, Wasp smiled happily.

When Musk told me the insanely huge sum of the money that would go to me, I agreed to join the little squad without wasting a second thought. Then he quietly told me the plan and what my role in it was.

The next day I waited at the agreed meeting place, a small pub for people who stay out late. I absentmindedly took a sip of my Coke when the door swung open and the Shadow Hunters came in. I had intended to keep a low profile in light of what we were doing, but the four did the opposite, causing a considerable sensation. Musk seemed to be particularly well known and respected. He shook hands with just about everyone at the counter and cracked jokes as he made his way to the back corner, where I had leaned inconspicuously against the bare wall. Harsh, electric beats blared from the big speakers. What did you say?! I can’t hear anything through the noise!

I said, Musk shouted, relax. Make yourself comfortable. We'll get to work when the shop closes.

I don’t know how to relax and since I have no friends, I don’t know how make relaxed conversation. Luckily for me, the loud music served as a perfect excuse to reject Wasp’s suggestion to have girl talk. If it weren’t for the fact that our attack is against a company that I still had a score to settle with, I’m not sure if I would have stuck to my hastily-made commitment. Well, probably. 2000 west Yuan! With that, I could buy my own apartment and one of those new speed racers that can outrun the deputy sheriff’s patrols. But did I want that anyway? Doc said I should take good care of myself and that he was proud that I’m all grown up. Fair enough. But what kind of shitty world is it when a father—since that’s what Doc is to me—is happy that his girl is going on tour with these clearly shady people?—In mine. I took the last sip of my Coke and put the can on the counter.

Will you teach me how to use those? I asked Wasp, pointing to the barely visible bumps under her coat.

She glanced around to see if anyone had noticed my gesture and then answered: That’s not really what I meant by ‘girl talk,’ but ... why not. No Prince Charmings here tonight, eh?

I awkwardly answered her winking and resisted asking about our leader who was flirting with two glitzy chicks.

Wasp emptied her bluish, shimmering drink as well and told me to follow her outside. In a dark alley, I got my first weapons’ lesson. Besides how to handle it, the most important advice was: When you pull, pull the trigger. If you hesitate, it's over.

When we went back inside, Wasp and I had become closer. She had a hard shell and an equally hard core. I liked that.

At 3 o'clock the lights went on. The only people left were a few UV freaks who kept dancing hypnotically even though the music had stopped, two people who were passed out, and a man and a woman, who were probably still trying to figure out how to end the night. Musk paid our bill, lit a cigarette and said: Let's go.

Fox was at the wheel of the Volkswagen XS station wagon. I learned that he and Lupus were brothers. When we were stopped at a checkpoint, the air was so thick with tension that you could cut it. Musk got out. I watched him talk to the two guards and inconspicuously slip them a bundle.

All right, he said as he got in, we've got four hours, then the next shift comes.

We drove west along the bumpy Via Lipsia, past the high fences that mark the outer border of Saturn Satovari. Turning left onto a wide road, we left the world that I was familiar with. Although I knew uncanny stories about the old tunnel in the Tiergarten and about occult gatherings in the decaying Hasenheide Park, from the former capital city I had only seen my neighborhood and hardly more than two blocks with my own eyes. - Too dangerous. If my orientation wasn’t wrong, we had to be somewhere in Nova Colonia by the time we stopped at a deserted intersection.

There were duffel bags in the trunk that Musk passed out to each of us. In mine, there was a dark blue workers suit, a bulletproof vest that was two sizes too big, a pair of binoculars, a walkie-talkie, and a hand pistol. 

Just for safety's sake, Musk mused, as he slipped into his blue suit.

20 minutes later, we got into position. Lupus and Musk played the role of technicians. They stood in the middle of the street over an open manhole cover, and inserted a measuring cable into it. Wasp waited, crouching a stone's throw away from them in the shadow of a half-collapsed roof. Fox and I watched the whole scene from the small hills in the landfill; me through my binoculars, he through the scope of his sniper rifle.

The moon, wedged between spotty clouds, drenched the landscape in pale, milky light. Street lamps lazily illuminated the long avenue as well, lining the streets and placed far from each other. A light breeze blew through the canyon between the abandoned houses, whirling up leaves and playing with a plastic bag. Suddenly, a yellow van appeared.

Here we go, Musk said through the radio. Fleck? Do you see anything unusual?

My heart was pounding in my throat. I strained to concentrate on the approaching vehicle.

... a driver and a passenger ...

And the cargo?

I searched the cargo hold with narrowed eyes. When my super-vision had set in, the sight took my breath away.

I see bright colors, I gasped, "orange, neon green, metallic, a bright