The Extinction Trials(74)

It was empty.

The five of them jogged down the road towards The Colony, the only sound that of Alister’s pained grunting and the pops of gunfire in the distance.

Owen kept scanning for any signs of other Extinction Trials participants. He saw only crumbling buildings and abandoned cars and trees and shrubs growing through and over them.

With each step, he grew more hopeful. They were going to make it.

Above, the thunder cracked again, and the rain began—a pounding precipitation that bounced off the ground like pebbles dropping in a pond.

The wind picked up, nudging him off balance as he ran.

Owen heard a shout over the radio and turned to find Blair lying on the street. Maya was quick to react. She put her hands under the girl’s shoulders and raised her up to her feet and quickly scanned Blair’s suit for any tears.

“We’re okay,” Maya said. “Let’s keep going.”

They ran with a renewed vigor then, feet stomping in the growing puddles of rain, the wind whipping at the suits and through the crumbling buildings, a growing howl like a monster chasing them.

Alister’s voice over the radio was labored, the sound of his panting almost as loud as the wind. “I… can’t… keep up. Leave… me—”

Owen reached out and grabbed his arm—the good arm from the shoulder that hadn’t been hit—and wrapped it around his own shoulders and put his arm at the man’s waist, giving him a slight lift. Alister cried out from the pain, but Owen could tell that he was taking some of the strain off of his body.

The group slowed but they were still making progress. Up ahead, the crumbled skyscrapers were turning into low-rise buildings.

The sound of the robots shooting was gone now. Owen didn’t know if the noise of the rain was overpowering the faint sound of the shots or if it was because the robots had killed Will. He felt a strange sort of conflict about it. The robots had killed a member of his team and assaulted him during the Fall. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he remembered the hate he felt when his mind touched the memory—his hate for the machines that had attacked during the Fall.

But Will had helped them. He hadn’t told him what he was, but looking back, Owen had to admit that it had been the only way: he would have bashed Will’s brains in had he told him the truth back at Station 17.

Up ahead, the city buildings gave way to a line of abandoned cars that were slowly being overgrown by trees and shrubs and grass. The pavement of the road out of the city wasn’t visible, but the outline was—the trees were gone there. The path carved through the field and inclined as it crawled into the hills.

At the top of the first ridge outside the city, Owen heard gunfire once again erupt over the radio. He turned and scanned the city. He saw Will, climbing a rubble heap that had once been a skyscraper, crawling on his four mechanical limbs faster than any human could. Another shot rang out, and Will tumbled over, but he quickly recovered and kept climbing again.

Owen saw the robots then, what looked like two dozen spiders scampering toward Will, stopping only to plant their feet in the rubble to fire a shot.

He wondered if this was what the Change War had been like—robots fighting in the ruins of a lost world.

To Owen’s surprise, a suited figure came into view, sauntering out from behind the remains of another building. They wore a dark suit, and they strode confidently towards the rubble pile that Will was climbing up.

“The proctor doesn’t have a chance,” a man’s voice said.

Owen realized then that that’s how he had heard the gunfire: from the man’s suit. He was broadcasting on their channel, letting them hear the shots.

“Who are you?” Owen asked.

“I imagine I’m someone just like you. A guy who woke up in a ruined world and is just trying to find a way to survive.”

The robots were closing in now, shooting more frequently. Will’s body jerked violently as the bullets ripped through him.

“What do you want?” Owen asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? To help you.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it. You shot one of our people. And our proctor.”

Will was still now, lying on the rubble heap, the spiders edging towards him.

“Well,” the man said over the radio, “you can thank me for getting rid of the proctor later.”

“Why would I?”

“Because he was leading you to your deaths, just like they all do.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been down the road you’re traveling. It doesn’t lead where you think.”

“Where does it lead?”

“Nowhere.”

“Prove it.”

“I think you already know it’s true. Let me guess: they gave you this line about saving the human race. Being our species’ last hope.”

“What’s the truth?”

“Truth is, there is no hope. You’re looking at what’s left of the world, and you can either come with me and survive, or make a stupid choice.”

“There’s just one problem,” Owen said. “You shot one of our people.”

“We can explain that—after you come with us.”

“I’d like an answer right now. Who are you?”

“The Alliance. We’re what’s left of the government, and some people who escaped The Extinction Trials and had the good sense to join the right side.”