Chapter Nine – Twitchy

Chapter Nine – Twitchy

“In this three-part summary, we will explain the historical precedent for the fall of global powers after the first Incursion.

The reversal of Roe v. Wade, the increased power of increasingly-religious authorities in some regions, the crash of the federal economy, increased tensions between growing minorities and the police, and the rise of a third ‘corporate’ party, all hastened the demise of a once powerful nation into a mess of nation-states with their own laws and regulations and animosities.”

–A History After the Drop, Online Lecture by Professor Sterne

***

The amount of traffic on the immediate edge of the incursion zone was surprising. I expected people to keep away, but might have been giving them too much credit.

Not that it truly mattered. We shot right past an aerial barricade manned by a few police chasers and deeper into the city without so much as twitching. I saw a cop’s head snap around, but no one followed us, so I figured we were safe.

It was eerie flying through a city with no cars moving around at a snail’s pace, the lights in most towers completely off, and the smog layer above broken in a few places to reveal the sky above. I found myself taking things in through the rainbow-wet sheen of the windscreen.

We weren’t moving towards the centre of the incursion zone, but rather skirting along the edge.

Right over here.

The little taxi started to slow down while rising up. Floors flashed by, and huge unlit billboards for healthcare insurance and the newest shoes moved by until we levelled off and turned into an open parking garage.

The place was only lit by a few dozen red emergency lights, enough to make out a lack of parked cars and a whole lot of empty space.

Myalis parked in the middle of the lot, coming down with a faint lurch before the hovercar’s engines whined to a stop.

“This is it?” I asked.

The door next to me opened with a hiss.

Yes. This is the place. Our subject was last seen two floors down.

I stepped out, pulled Whisper along behind me, then looked about for anything interesting. I could hear all sorts of things. Metal ticking, the patter of the rain outside, the humming of some ventilation systems and old neon lights. Nothing that sounded alien, or alive.

I tucked Whisper up against my shoulder, then thought better of it and slung the crossbow over my back. “Let’s head out, then,” I said as I pulled out my Trench Maker, still loaded with some highly flammable high-explosive .45 rounds. Probably more handy in the tight confines of a building than my crossbow.

Elevator access is to your right.

Following Myalis’ instructions brought me to an elevator that opened as soon as I got close to it. “So, do you have a plan, because I know fuck all about finding lost people. I’ve seen a couple of police procedurals, but I don’t think those count.”

The building’s camera and security network is on a closed circuit. Part of it is stored online, hence why the other Vanguards found what they did, but the rest is better secured. I could break in, but there might be physical shut-offs. I think the best solution is to search around the area where Miss McCarthy was last seen, then find out where the security system is actually stored to verify what we can.

I stepped into the elevator and hummed along to the shitty auto-generated music. “Sounds good,” I said.

The doors opened again when I was a couple of floors down, and I stepped out into a long corridor lined with doors that had little numbers on them.

Most of them were torn open already, lying on the floor off to one side, or just left open.

All the junk on the floor hinted at why they’d been opened, as did the noise of people moving deeper in the floor.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“What the hell?” I muttered as I brought my Trench Maker up and started walking down the passage. A glimpse into one of the little apartments showed a tiny little home. There was a kitchen-living room combo, with a little office space at the back missing any computer hardware. Another smashed open door inside showed a bedroom hardly bigger than the queen-sized bed within, with a little bathroom next to that.

The entire thing didn’t take up half the space of the bedroom Lucy and I shared the night before.

A picture on the wall showed off a family of five. Three kids and their parents. It was a bit small for that many people, but seemed pretty standard for a middle-class home.

I kept moving, passing more and more apartments with doors torn off hinges and interiors ransacked and emptied of anything valuable. Printed pictures and the like were left behind, but it was obvious TVs had been torn off walls and computers were missing from desks.