Fall and Rise: Book 3 Afterwards Trilogy

By Jack Crux

The culmination of the adventures of Connor Findlay Patrick O'Reilly. Gabriel Quintin has finally found Maree Bryden and the Invalids are relatively safe at Focheden but Connor’s destiny is not fulfilled: there is a burning deep inside of him. A dangerous smouldering need which he knows will burst forth in a fire as fatal as the one he set at the bio labs. There is something he has to do, something that is abhorrent and evil and yet necessary. And something that he cannot do alone. How will he persuade his people to help him to accomplish it when he knows it will send him straight to hell and he is asking those he loves to go with him?

Doomsday is at hand and when the dust finally settles what will have been won and who will have lost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9780244681180

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Fall and Rise: Book 3 Afterwards Trilogy

Fall and Rise: Afterwards Trilogy

Book 3

PRINTING HISTORY

First publication in Great Britain by Lulu Publishing

Lulu edition published 2018

Copyright Jack Crux

All the characters in this book are fictitious,

And any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

is purely coincidental

ISBN 978-0-244-68118-0

"Some rise by sin

And some by virtues fall"

William Shakespeare

For Cameron and Calum

PROLOGUE:ST JOHN STEPHEN

Robert Louis St John Stephen took a deep contented breath, drawing the cooler outside air deep into his lungs. He had just come out of the studio, fulfilling the valuable duty of informing the population of what they needed to know. He was allowed to be smug, to wallow in his success, his career had been a triumph. He was the mouth piece, the voice of the Mansanto Corporation, the most highly ranking newscaster on the planet.  But even he was about to be made obsolete.

Without thinking, his hand touched the golden macrochip implanted above his left ear. Soon macrochips would be blasting news straight into people's brains, and he would be able to retire knowing he had done much to aid the progress of his species.

True, he hadn't always been as enthusiastic as he should have been. He remembered how unwilling he had been to have the thing inserted. He had argued he didn't need it, he was loyal and he was intelligent, not like the rest of the population, mindless sheep who needed to be shepherded. It had taken an audience with Mansanto himself, the great man outlining all the merits of the process, to persuade RLS that it really was a good thing.

RLS sniffed, remembering his fear, now tinged with embarrassment. He had been a fool, a Luddite, too scared to grasp the future. But he had seen the light and now, just a few short weeks later, he wouldn't be without his chip for all the world, which, when he thought about it, wasn't really very much anymore; who wanted a fucking dead planet anyway?

The chip had opened so many opportunities for him. A golden chip marked its wearer out as being on the topmost tier of society, it allowed him the best food, the best entertainment and access to the truly luxurious areas that the Domain had to offer. It almost made him part of the ruling families. But it was even more important than that, it meant he had a seat, a seat on the shuttle which in a few short days, was going to blast away from this broken Earth. In a feat that was truly amazing, and he didn’t think journalistic hyperbole was misplaced in this case, they were to join with the massive spaceship, named Exodus, being built on the edges of the atmosphere.

RLS had a seat to a new world, a new life.

Shortly after he had been chipped, he had started the habit of an evening stroll over to the massive hanger where the shuttle was being completed. The chip cautioned him against it, but sometimes he liked to exert his authority. He liked to watch the builders climbing the spiders web of iron scaffolding that held the shuttle in place, like the stable boys fussing around a thoroughbred racehorse before the big race. The shuttle stood impassive as it reached with supreme nonchalance toward the sky.

RLS liked to stand on the ramp that bridged the gap between the steps and the doorway and simply stare at the wonder of it all. He would move forward slowly and touch the cold metal shell of the shuttle, dreaming what it would feel like to be blasted away from this mess, to a new world of hope and promise.

This particular night, he was slightly later than usual, and his chip was already giving him a warning that it was only half an hour to curfew. He had come to rely on the chip for the little things, like time management and planning ahead, although he didn't believe that it was taking him over. No, definitely not, it was only a tool, something that helped him live his life more easily. Still, he couldn't be late for curfew, as the shock the chip would spark through his nervous system was truly painful.

However, he just about had time to see the shuttle, so he briskly made his way up to the entry gates in the elevator. The smell of ozone and vaporised material, aluminium and chrome, burned argon and charred flesh lingered on the air; it hit him as the elevator doors opened. He was surprised that no one appeared to be around. Normally, he would see the night shift busy at work and at least one or two VP guards patrolling, but this night, the area was completely silent, no banging hammers, no fizzing welding torches arcing brightly, and no men shouting instructions.

All was eerily quiet.

RLS surmised that the work must finally be done, and the world waited for something remarkable to happen. He couldn’t control the flutter of sheer expectation as it trembled in the pit of his stomach.

RLS moved forward, licking his lips, hands reaching out to touch the sheer, silver majestic skin of the vehicle. It never failed to give him a rush of satisfaction deep in his bowels, and it did so again. He closed his eyes, his other hand moving down furtively towards the zip of his pants.

The swooshing noise of movement, easily discernible in the complete silence of the massive open hangar area, forced him to readjust his position and turn. He saw a dirty, dark figure regarding him from in front of the elevator. RLS got the immediate impression from the way the figure arranged itself, it had just jumped down from on top of the shaft.

Pulling himself together, and haughtily furling the invisible cloak of privilege about his shoulders, RLS said, Who the fuck are you?

The stranger’s goofy smile was wide and white, reaching across his dirty face from one large ear to the other. His ears were really big and drew RLS' attention, especially the left one which stood out proudly, unchipped.

Fuck, you're an Invalid!

The smile got even wider. You would probably call me that, I prefer freedom fighter, and all round good guy.

You're a fucking terrorist!

The stranger rolled his eyes. Only from where you're looking, but then everything depends on how you perceive things, doesn't it?

Of course not, RLS snapped. The truth is the truth.

And you would know that, news man. The Invalid shrugged and then stretched out a grimy hand. Anyways, my ma used to say never let anything come before good manners. I'm Coco the Loco, pleased to meet you.

RLS ignored the dirt-streaked outstretched hand, and eyed him suspiciously. Loco? he muttered.

Coco smiled his ludicrous smile again. Oh, I'm not crazy, that's a common misconception. I used to drive trains, before. He appeared unconcerned that RLS hadn't reciprocated the handshake, simply waved his hand to indicate the past, and moved towards the shuttle. Wouldn't mind driving this though. She’s a beauty, isn’t she?

Get your dirty hands off her! RLS shouted with all the fury of a protective father. He gulped and then continued, I have alerted the authorities, VP Operatives will be here in seconds.

Coco grinned over his shoulder, foul, calloused hand stroking the shuttle shell regardless. Oh, I don't think so, he said mildly. See that's the problem with those fucking macrochips, damned unreliable. They can turn you on and they can turn you off, and that's the wrong way around. At least it is from the way I see it in my ‘terrorist’ mind. He shook his head, Not for me, I guess.

You know nothing about it, RLS blustered, trying to keep a lid on the angry fear that simmered through every sinew, trying to ground himself in his professional persona. The irascible news anchor that he was, he determined the best course was to interview the Invalid. Make out he was interested, until the VP, damn their lazy asses, turned up. What are you doing here anyway?

Coco chuckled. Came to see how the other half live.

What do you want?

Incisive questioning from a pro. Coco shook his head. There are so many fucking answers to your simple question. I want to go back to driving my train. I want the shitfest to never have happened. I want my family back. I want to be your worst nightmare. I want you to fear me! I want you to take that fucking chip out of your ear and become a real human being again.

Never going to happen, RLS responded smugly. We’re leaving you and your like behind. It's called progress. We are heading for the stars!

And what makes you think the stars will have you? After all, you haven't exactly looked after this place very well, have you?

RLS snorted. He really didn't want to trade ideologies with a smelly, stupid Invalid, who deserved to be swallowed up by the past he wanted to go back to. RLS was only trying to delay him until the VP arrived, doing his patriotic duty, but the VP were not coming and this Invalid seemed irritatingly confident of his position. We've moved on. The human race is about to open its wings and soar. You are simply jealous that you are part of the dregs, the debris, the damned, who will be left behind. RLS, despite his circumstance, felt a thrill at his alliteration, even here, and off the cuff, he could cut it; he really was good.

Coco grinned again, all teeth and ears. I'm gonna give you a little advice, news man, which you should think about.

I don't want any of....

For the first time, Coco looked annoyed as he continued, You remember trees? Big motherfuckers, lots of leaves? Well, I figure that's where we went wrong. If we had all been a bit more like trees, well, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess!

RLS regarded him, squinting, wondering when in hell the VP were going to rescue him from this idiot. He urged his chip to send another alarm. Much to his chagrin, Coco moved forward and put his arm around RLS' shoulders in a gesture of friendship, accompanied by the smell of rancid sweat and dirt. RLS had to fight to stop himself from gagging.

See, trees had it right. Think about it, they stood tall and proud, they went out on a limb for their friends, they remembered their roots, drank lots of water, were content with their natural beauty and enjoyed their view. Coco patted RBS's shoulder. Rules to live by, my friend. If only humans had thought the same.

RLS shrugged him off and stepped away. What a load of fucking...

He stopped and turned at the sound of heavy feet landing behind him. Another smelly Invalid appeared out of the gloom as if by magic, having apparently leapt down from the nose cone of the shuttle. It was fucking terrifying when they appeared like that, and this one was a more horrifying sight than the first. Little more than a boy, his slim body was festooned with an inordinate number of vicious looking weaponry, his handsome face pale, under the smooth veneer of muck.  His hair was shaved on either side of his head, and bizarrely and most ridiculously, the longer hair on top was pulled into braids, tied at the nape of his neck with reddish ribbon, which matched the livid red scar cutting through the skin above his left ear. RLS took all this in, realising this idiot must have had his chip cut out, and further fear gushed on top of what he was already feeling. But what really took his attention was the newcomer's blue eyes; they were insanely bright, flashing wildly, completely devoid of any sense of control.

As if to intensify his fears, Coco said, Ahh, this is Zmarzlik. His friends call him Zibi, but I guess you’re not his friend, are you? Now, he really is the crazy one.

What the fuck have you just done? RLS demanded, fighting valiantly to understand the nature of the threat, as his anger was engulfed by a new wave of paralysing fear.

Zmarzlik's smile was about as far from sane as you could possibly get. He stared at RLS for long moments, cocking his head from side to side, braid bobbing, as if to get different views only he could see. Then, with a fluid motion, he drew the gun from his thigh holster and fired into RLS's stomach.

The look of shock on the newscaster's face was quickly overrun by one of pain and dismay as he crumpled to the floor, his last lungful of air gushing out with a lethal whoosh as his bowels evacuated and he pissed himself.

Not the most glorious of exits from a prestigious career.

Coco moved to the corpse, kicked him over on to his back. Err, Zibi, he said. Was that really necessary?

Zmarzlik shrugged, re-holstering his gun. I always fucking hated his broadcasts whiny little cunt, he muttered.

Yes, but he had a golden chip. Coco wedged his boot toe beneath the macrochip to underline its presence.

Zmarzlik stepped forward to stand beside his friend. They both gazed down at the body. What does that mean? Zmarzlik asked.

Fucked if I know, Coco responded cheerily. But it must be important.

Not anymore.

What if somebody misses him?

Zmarzlik shrugged, unconcerned. You worry too much.

Suppose. Coco sighed. Job done? Zmarzlik nodded as Coco continued, Come on, we’d better catch up with the others.

Zmarzlik nodded again. I liked your speech, he said. Didn't know you were such a tree hugger.

I wasn't, but I kinda wish I had been. Now help me get rid of this. No one can know we were here.

Both men