Suture (The Bleeding Worlds) (2 page)

"All right. Everyone move in. All eyes."

They moved into the field. The Nebraska sun beat down on them. In training, they'd told Gwynn the suit had adaptive technologies built into it to help regulate the wearer's body temperature. Either they'd lied, or his suit had malfunctioned, because he felt like he was being microwaved.

Corn stalks rose into the sky, an organic curtain enveloping each of the Ansuz members.

"Check it out guys," Brandt came over the comm, "we're children of the corn."

"Shut up, Brandt." Natalie. She suffered no bullshit, or so she'd often told Gwynn. Which meant she and Brandt argued. Often.

A few moments passed—time marked only by the steady sound of crunching footsteps.

"Geezus, what's that smell?" Brandt gagged.

While Gwynn found he often disagreed with anything that came out of Brandt's mouth, this time he had to agree. The smell was staggering. Not just the expected sharpness of manure, but smells of rot, excrement, and death. By the time they reached the building, Gwynn's eyes watered and he struggled to force down the sick rising in his throat. One of the team, Wade, had torn off his helmet, having lost the war with his stomach. Gwynn turned away, trying to block out Wade's heaving.

"God, Wade. Hold yourself together." Natalie's voice may have lacked sympathy, but contained a definite ounce of jealousy. Gwynn suspected all of Ansuz wanted to join Wade. Given his precarious social standing, Gwynn would not let himself. He figured pride held the others back. He wondered if he should hold Wade in higher esteem for being brave enough to let himself go, or if the boy deserved contempt for being weak. Considering the impatient mutterings and sighings of the other Ansuz members, they were firmly on the side of contempt.

When the retching subsided, Njord's voice came over the com. "Brandt and Gwynn, start a sweep of the left side of the building. Natalie, Jason, you take the right. Meet in the middle, then come up the opposite side. I want reports on exits and the building's condition."

"Yes, sir," four voices responded.

Gwynn followed Brandt to the left.

"If there's a fight, try not to wet your pants," Brandt hissed.

The smell clung to the building—even taking two steps closer to a window caused the stench to increase.

Gwynn tapped Brandt's shoulder. Before the boy could deliver one of his usual sarcastic remarks, Gwynn held up a hand to indicate silence, and motioned to the corn field. Brandt's bulky form went still. In their imposed silence, they heard the rustling of corn stalks moving. Both boys slowly panned the field.

"Where'd you see it the first time?" Brandt whispered.

Gwynn pointed out the direction. "About a hundred feet out."

The silence broke with the
crack
of a dried corn stalk. Just twenty feet away from them. Xanthe came into Gwynn's hand. Brandt had reached to the Veil for his weapon too—a pair of spiked gauntlets. In training, they had explained to him, their weapons somehow reflected their own hearts, being formed from the energies of their soul. Did this mean blackness was in Gwynn's heart? Or maybe black was the color of anger? Yes, this was the answer he had settled on, his heart held anger and hurt. Even more so after losing Sophia. She'd died, either for him, or because of him. Either way, he felt the weight of it in his heart.

Brandt's gauntlets were an easy explanation. His personality was to push into the uncomfortable barriers of personal space. It figured his weapon would require him to do the same to dispatch his enemies.

The tops of the corn swayed to Gwynn's left. Before he could let his sword loose, a small black form bounded from the cornfield.

"Meow?" Great greenish eyes held within a matted, tabby coloured face, regarded them.

Brandt laughed. "A cat? Geez, what a waste, I was looking forward to a good fight."

Gwynn couldn't see Brandt's face through his helmet, but his tone and body language spoke of relief. Brandt enjoyed a good fight, but something in the air of this place just felt wrong. Gwynn agreed he had no desire to face an unseen enemy out in the depths of the corn.

They met Jason and Natalie at the corner of the building.

"What was the hold up?" Jason asked, his voice indicated he'd taken note they'd drawn their weapons.

"Friggin cat," Brandt grumbled. "Did you find anything?"

"All clear on our side. There's another entrance, but it's locked," Natalie said, a chuckle in her voice. She probably enjoyed the thought of Brandt being spooked by a cat.

The two pairs crossed paths and made their way up the opposite side.

Brandt stopped at the door Jason had mentioned. He twisted the knob and gave a shove with his shoulder against it.

"Still locked?" Gwynn asked. It was probably stupid to poke the bear, but he'd endured too many jabs to let his opportunities pass.

"Not just locked. There's no give at all. I think someone's barricaded it on the other side," Brandt huffed.

They finished their sweep without further incident and reported what they'd found to Njord.

"You saw a cat?" Njord asked Gwynn.

"Yes, sir. Just a normal tabby cat."

Njord's tone said he cared about that detail much more than he should. What was the significance of spotting a farm cat on a farm? Except that it was a farm with a three storey walkup sitting in the middle of its cornfield.

"Ok," Njord said after a few moments of silence. "We'll go in the front. Brandt, see what you can do."

It struck Gwynn that every combat team needed a member who acted as the muscle. Even without the energies of the Veil, Brandt was a mountain of a man who could probably lift Gwynn off the ground with a single hand. Add the Veil, and he could lift cars and god-knew-what-else above his head.

Brandt approached the door with relish and even an ounce of bravado. This was his element—brute force.

It became clear Brandt hadn't put any effort in trying to open the back door. This time, his gauntlets appeared, and the size of his arms increased within his suit. A single punch smashed the door off its hinges. Several more blows cleared furniture and other debris braced against the door.

With the way opened, Brandt dropped his fists and staggered back.

"Holy fuck, the smell is worse," Brandt said through dry gags. "Why did R and D make these helmets to allow smells? Wade's gonna puke his lungs out."

"Shut up, Brandt," Wade's sheepish voice filled the com.

"The more senses you have, the more information you can gather," Caelum quoted from some obscure manual no one currently cared about.

"Sir," Jackson said, "whoever is inside…Just had their fear go through the roof."

Njord nodded in response to Jackson. "Listen up everyone, we split into teams for a floor by floor sweep. Brandt, Jackson, you two monitor the front door and stairs to cover our backs. Fear can make people react unpredictably. Don't lose your cool and strike first, or we might have civilian casualties. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," their voices all responded.

"Oh, and Wade," Njord added, "try to keep yourself together."

There might have been a time when the building was attractive. The front door opened onto a foyer with marble flooring showing beneath the grime and refuse. From the foyer, a staircase led upstairs. Brandt hadn't been kidding about the smell, nor the lengths someone had gone to keeping the door closed. Besides the locks, nailed boards and furniture were used to brace against the door. The hall that ran from the foyer went straight to the rear door they had seen outside. In the dim light coming through the front door, Gwynn could make out a pile of furniture that had been braced against where the door used to have been.

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to keep something out," Gwynn said.

"I think
something
is the operative word." Jason nodded toward a door along the hall torn off its hinges. "Looks like some of the guests got a little rowdy."

"How long has this place been here?" Angie asked. "It looks like it's been here a long time."

"Not possible," Njord replied. "The evacuation of the twenty mile radius and our arrival took only a few hours. If Caelum was right, and this building appeared
after
the evacuation, it's only been here two hours, three tops."

"Well, wherever it's been," Caelum said, "it went a long time without running water or power."

"How do you know, genius?" Brandt asked.

"Simple. The smell. It seems they were still using the toilets even after they stopped flushing."

Wade made a gagging noise.

"Keep it together, Wade, or you're sitting the next couple missions out," Njord cautioned. "Now, Brandt, Jackson, you have the first floor and guard duty. Natalie, Wade, the two of you and I will head downstairs to see if we can figure something out about power. Jason, Marie, you take the second floor. Caelum, Gwynn and Angie, you three head up to the top floor. Remember people, there are probably survivors. They'll be scared and might even attack before they realize you're here to help them. Everyone be thorough and stick together. Now move."

The stairs turned out to be more of a challenge than any of their group had anticipated. Someone had gone to the trouble of blocking the top of each flight with furniture and other refuse.

"Watch out below," Jason said. The cracking sound of a whip, followed by the splintering of wood, and bits of armoire fell down the stairs.

"Do you think we'll even find someone alive?" Angie asked. "I mean, it looks like this has been barricaded a long time."

Caelum shrugged. "Doubtful, but still possible. However, if they are alive, I imagine they're in rough shape."

At the second floor, they parted with Jason and Marie and continued up the steps. Gwynn used Xanthe to chop his way through more barriers.

"Gwynn, what did you mean when you said this felt wrong?" Angie asked.

He couldn't see her face, it being hidden by her visor, but her voice didn't sound mocking. Some of the other guys in the group only saw Angie's looks and how her body armour…fit. Gwynn couldn't make himself feel attracted to her. He knew he should be able to leave Sophia in the past, move on. After all, it had been eight months, and they weren't even an item. But he couldn't shake the sense of wrongness about her being gone—couldn't help but feel allowing himself to fall for another girl was some sort of betrayal. Still, he had to admit Angie was attractive, but more importantly, she talked to him—seemed to want to talk to him. Except for Jason and Fuyuko, that made her unique in his current life.

"I don't know how to put it," he answered. "I don't think there's a tear here. I mean, obviously this building shouldn't be here, but it doesn't feel like a tear. It's almost as if, the building just slid into place here. Like it didn't used to be here, but now it belongs."

Caelum held up a hand bringing their conversation to a halt.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

Gwynn and Angie shook their heads, no.

Caelum pointed toward a door down the hall, on the left. Gwynn stifled the urge to ask Caelum what he'd heard. Possibly of all the members of Ansuz, Caelum was the least to give into high stress situations. He approached all tasks with a calm, calculating manner. Odd, someone gifted with the ability to care for people could operate more on mind than on heart. Knowing the boy as he now did, Gwynn knew if Caelum told them he'd heard something, he was certain of it.

They inched their way toward the door. Without needing to communicate it, Gwynn and Caelum turned their attention to the door while Angie guarded their backs.

"Should we announce we're here to help before busting in?" Gwynn asked.

"Do you want to announce we're here if it's a Curse?" Caelum answered.

Gwynn shrugged.

Caelum tried the door, which proved to be locked. He held up three fingers. After training with the team, Gwynn knew instinctively what he meant—On
three, we go.

When the last of his fingers went down, both boys pulled extra strength from the Veil and shoved their way through the door.

Gwynn turned left, Caelum right, and Angie backed in, keeping a watch on the hall at their backs.

The apartment appeared to be less filled with garbage than the rest of the building. The windows, while grimy, were at least clear of boards and allowed some sun inside. Seeing pure, cheerful light lessened the play on their nerves, but it turned the apartment into even more of a pressure cooker. Not to mention it had helped to intensify the smell. Gwynn was thankful Wade stayed downstairs.

"Clear left," Gwynn said.

"This way too," Caelum replied. "Search the rest together, or split?"

As if to answer Caelum's question, a sound of creaking wood came from a room down the left hand hall.

"We check that together, then split," Angie said.

Both boys nodded their agreement.

While none of them drew their weapons, the goosebumps on Gwynn's flesh indicated the others, like himself, had drawn extra strength from the Veil. Each step they took produced a painful creaking of the floor. No matter how slow or careful their steps, the building seemed intent on betraying their presence. Thankfully, that remained true for whatever lay behind the closed door at the end of the hall.

They slid into the same formation as they had before. Caelum checked the door, which turned out to be the first unlocked door since they'd entered the building. He held up his three fingers again.
Three, Two, One…

They threw the door open and moved quickly into place, their limbs loose but held ready for a fight. Nothing moved inside the room.

Angie took a sharp intake of air. Gwynn panned the rest of the room, his eyes resting on the bed and the obvious reason for Angie's reaction. Someone, or something, lay on the bed, their form obscured by heavy dark sheets.

Caelum called forth his weapon from the Veil—a longbow. As each step brought Caelum closer to the bed, Gwynn's muscles tensed, every fibre preparing to spring into action. Caelum grabbed the bow by one end and extended the other out to lift the sheets.
 

He flipped the sheet aside.