Authors: Dena Nicotra
“Shit!” I grumbled under my breath. I walked back to where he was standing and offered my arm. The older man took it and ambled along beside me. Mic gave me a look that suggested I be patient. I gave him an overly-cheerful smile that said all that my words could not in that moment. This old man was a stranger to me, but I didn’t want to have to watch him die because he was too slow to avoid it. I also didn’t like the prospect of him putting us at risk because we were trying to rescue him. Why did I get myself into these positions? Mic suggested we sit on the low cement wall adjacent to the parking structure while he found us a vehicle. He was using his tablet as a scanner, and I had to laugh, because it meant we’d be taking a newer style model. The older ones didn’t have the electronic adapters for automatic start, let alone auto drive. When a silver car pulled up next to us, I decided that technology could come in handy.
We helped Ben into the back, and then proceeded to climb in ourselves. I was just adjusting my seat-belt when I heard a male voice shouting. I looked up to see a very dark skinned man with long braids. His eyes were wild, and he was waving his hands. He was blocking our path. I grabbed my pistol and aimed it at him through the windshield. It was chaotic inside the car because Mic was shouting at me to lower my weapon and Ben was yelling something along the same line.
“We can’t trust every single soul we come across, you guys! He’s a simp and he’s setting us up!”
“You can’t know that for sure, Lee,” said Ben from the back seat.
“And you can’t assume the opposite!” Mic reached for his tablet and slid his fingers across it. The man dropped in front of us. He maneuvered the car around him, and we drove away in silence. I was too pissed to say anything, and Mic must have sensed that, because he didn’t try to engage in conversation. At this point, I was ready to go off on anyone who opened their mouth —everyone was fair game. Someone was going to get an ear full if he said a fucking word. Instead, Ben muttered an apology, and I sighed.
“We can’t walk away from our humanity in this, and if it was a man and not a machine…” Ben trailed off.
“But it wasn’t, Ben. I understand your position, but you have to realize that any hesitation could cost lives, and I won’t stand by and let that happen.”
“I understand that, and I’m appreciative of you both for taking me along with you. I just think that we have to be careful and not take unnecessary risks with human lives.”
“Ben, if you are going to stay with us, you’re going to have to accept the way we do things,” I said.
“If it means you’d shoot a man…or a woman, then let me out right here, right now.” Ben was coughing between his words.
“I’m not saying I’d do anything of the kind. I’m just saying that if it comes down to risking the lives of the people I care about, I’m going to shoot.”
“Okay, okay, let’s just take it easy,” Mic said.
“Mic, you have to tell him who you are before this goes any further.”
“Mic?” said Ben. “I thought your lady here said your name was Fish. I knew I recognized your face. You’re the guy!” He began to chuckle. “I’ll be damned, you’re the guy.”
“Yeah, I’m that guy, Ben. We’ll understand if you want to part ways, but I want to get you some place safe first if you do.”
“Listen, I don’t blame you for all of this.” He waved his hands around for emphasis. “I just want to know what you’re going to do about it.”
“Well, I appreciate that Ben. We’re heading to IDE headquarters, and it’s my hope that I can create an impermeable version of a simp. If I can create one, then I can take her code and push it out globally.”
“You said
her.
Does that mean you are going to make a woman?” Mic made a right turn out of the parking structure, and then looked up at Ben in the rear view mirror.
“Yes, I am. I’m going to duplicate Lee.”
“Well, this ought to be interesting,” said the old man. “Too bad your name isn’t Eve young lady. Now that would be karma at its finest.” I laughed this time. Partly because I was feeling the same way, and partly because I was amused by the way Ben responded. The road in front of us was lined with businesses on either side. I spied a grocery store and my stomach rumbled. It was getting later in the afternoon now and the small bit of meat and cheese that Ben had shared with us wasn’t cutting it. I’d been hungrier, but my nerves were jumpy and I wanted something in my stomach in the worst possible way.
“Mic, what do you think about stopping at that market to try to get something to eat?”
“I’m hungry too, but it is a risk, you know that,” he said softly.
“I know it is, but what isn’t? I’ve got to get something in my stomach, and once we get across the bridge, there won’t be much opportunity.”
He sighed. “You’re right. Okay, we’ll give it a try, but any signs of trouble and we’re out of there.”
“Agreed,” I said. I needed to save what little ammunition I had left, so I reached down and unzipped my back, pulling out my slingshot. I’d need to get something to load it with, once we exited the car. As I was getting myself prepared, I realized that Ben was rummaging through his own pack. I turned to look over the seat and saw that he had extracted a rather large cleaver-looking knife. It was curved so that the point portion was fatter than the base.
“Nice knife, Ben,” I said.
“You like it? It’s called a ‘kukri.’
I stole it from a museum.” He fingered the blade with pride. It’s served me well for both protection and utility.”
“Nice.” I said, turning around to face the road. I glanced over at Mic and could see he was grinning. I had to admit, the old man was surprising. I just hoped he could use it. I double-checked my own blade, which was tucked in my boot. As we pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, Mic explained that he would drive straight up to the entry. The glass was broken out, and it was highly probable that the merchandise had long since been picked over. It was what we were all used to: picking over the remnants and hoping for a can of anything that would fill a belly. As planned, we all exited the car and stayed close together. I loaded my pocket with large shards of broken glass, taking care not to cut myself in the process. The guys continued forward and I took the rear. Turning in a sweeping motion to check the perimeter, I determined that we were clear for now.
We stepped carefully over broken glass and began our search for supplies. The aisles were mostly empty. I spotted a few cans on a shelf, but when I looked up, I saw that Mic was pointing to a sign over our heads. We were on the pet supply aisle. I shrugged and shoved the two cans of dog food in my pack. I’d eaten dog food before and it would do, but I was hoping for something more appetizing. Powdered sugar was all over the floor along with something brown and sticky on the next aisle. I maneuvered around the mess as best as I could, and the men did the same. We made our way through the rest of the store and came away with a small, dented can of tomato paste, a jar of wax peppers, and a box of yellow corn meal.
Back in the car, I pulled the top from a can of dog food and used my fingers to dip into the brown gravy. The mushy bits of meat tasted bland, but palatable. I held out a bite to Mic as he started the car, but he shook his head.
“What, are you too good for dog food?”
“No, I just don’t think I can eat that.”
“Why?” I asked, passing the can to Ben in the back and then licking the gravy from my fingertips.
“I know what they put in it, that’s why.”
I stopped licking my fingers. “What do they put in it?”
“By-products that humans wouldn’t normally eat, like bits of brain, bone, intestine…”
“Okay, stop it. I don’t want to know.” No longer hungry, I refused the can when Ben tried to pass it back to me.
“You can have the rest, Ben.”
“Suit yourself.” he said, slurping up the gravy by tilting the can to his lips. I shuddered and tried to focus on the scenery. We were coming up on the bridge, and I could feel my nerves begin to knot up again. IDE was about five miles away, and the risk of simp trouble increased the closer we got. Mic pulled the car over and made some adjustments on the personal console. In short, he was asking the onboard computer system to survey the bridge before we attempted to drive over. Everyone knew that bridges and structures were dangerous after the war. Bombs had taken out huge portions of freeways, overpasses, and tunnels, and simps had sabotaged others. We sat in silence as the onboard computer spat out latitude and longitude, a series of equations that made no sense to me, and then finally stated that the structure was impassible.
“We’ll have to walk from here,” Mic said.
“Okay, that just sucks,” I said, grabbing my pack and stepping out of the car. The bridge seemed more ominous by foot. The sea below was a dull shade of grayish green, and the wind was picking up just enough to make me miserable in my tank top. Mic threw his pack over one shoulder and took my hand. Ben was on my right, but he was already struggling to keep up. Large chunks of road were missing, and still others heaved up in such a way that climbing over and around things felt like an obstacle course.
“We won’t come back this way,” Mic grumbled.
“There isn’t another way, Mic. We don’t have a choice,” I said, huffing as I climbed around a segment of road that was open to the sea below. It was fortunate for me that I wasn’t afraid of heights.
“There’s my hovcar.”
“Oh, yes, that would be better, providing we can get to it.”
“I’m getting my hovcar,” he said with determination. “I’m also getting us something decent to eat as soon as we get there.”
“You doing okay back there, Ben?” The old man waved at us to keep moving.
“I’ll catch up, just keep going,” he said, as he leaned against an abandoned vehicle. I turned my head back to the road in front of me, and then stopped dead in my tracks. Ahead of us was the curve of the bridge that took the top just out of sight. In unison, a row of simps came into view from the other side. They were more in number than I had ever seen. Ben caught up with us and stood with his knife in his hand. With his dingy beige knapsack over his shoulder, I couldn’t help but link him again in my mind to a very warped Santa.
“Okay, now what?” I whispered. The wind was dancing over the bridge now, and my teeth were chattering. The line of simps in front of us could be attacking in seconds, and with their speed, quick thinking was imperative.
“I can use the pause and set them all still, but we’ll have little time to get past them. It won’t work a second time. Their coding is sophisticated enough to provide a workaround that will block my efforts, thereafter.”
“I don’t see that we have any other choice, Mic. There are too many of them to fight off, and it’s too far down to jump,” I said.
“It means we’ll have to run. Ben, are you up to that?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best. Just promise me that you will not stop for me. If I fall, keep going. I’ve told you both already that I’m old, and if it is my time to go, I’m ready for that.”
Mic nodded and pulled his tablet from his pack. After a series of finger slides, the line in front of us dropped like dominoes. Taking our queue, we began to run toward them as best as we could. Large concrete sections were blocking the left, so we had to hug the right side near the water and run in a single file order. I knew it was a risk that they would rise up before we passed, and that once we passed they would be on our heels in the opposite direction. I prayed that we’d have enough time. My eyes darted to a line of once bright yellow tollbooths that were positioned about halfway between us and the simps. Several were crushed, but a few still remained. If we could make it there and hide before they came back online, we might stand a chance. “Let’s try for the tollbooths instead!” I yelled out. My companions heard me, and, fortunately, followed my lead. I made it to the middle booth and pulled the door with all of my strength. It resisted initially, but finally gave way. I clambered insight with Mic right behind me. Since Ben was nowhere in sight, he pulled the door closed and covered me with his body.
We were both breathing so hard that I was certain they would hear us and we’d be dead in a matter of seconds. I closed my eyes tightly and tried not to panic. In the next several minutes, the simps were all around us. We could hear them, and it occurred to me that it was an unusual experience to listen to what simps would say to one another without a human present. To my surprise, they spoke much faster than humans do…it was difficult to make out what they were saying, and the pitches were mixed between men and women, so it was a crescendo of oddness that became terrifying as they moved around us. I covered my mouth with both hands to keep from screaming. One of them was now very close. I could hear the handle being turned and Mic shifted ever so slightly to press his back against it. The upper portion of the booth was entirely made of glass, so all it would take is a glimpse inside to see us both huddled below. Another male voice called out, and then we heard the quick sound of footsteps moving away from us.
It seemed that time stood still while we waited, but eventually the sounds and voices stopped. The muscles in my legs and back were screaming at me because I’d been hunched over for so long. Finally, Mic moved and pulled me to my feet.