The Neo-Spartans: Altered World (41 page)

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Authors: Raly Radouloff,Terence Winkless

BOOK: The Neo-Spartans: Altered World
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              Quinn cringed at the idea of the good intentions that were running in Grisner’s mind. She kept backing away, watching him closely, trying to stay calm and unemotional. Something in the environment, though, got her attention. The forest around Grisner had bristled. To somebody with an untrained eye this bristle was barely perceptible, but for Quinn, who had studied every single movement of the plants since she was a kid, this was like a flag being waved in her face. This wild organism was reacting to Grisner, like an animal that isn’t confronted with an open attack but instinctively senses the evil nature of a lurking creature. It made all the sense in the world. The jungle had been assaulted with every imaginable malicious intent from the Eugenics and it had high-tuned its sensitivity in order to survive. And while it wasn’t openly attacking Grisner, because he somehow managed to suppress his aggression toward Quinn, the forest knew deep down that his presence was unwanted and dangerous. The forest was on her side. She kept a steady distance between herself and Grisner and let the memories of Kilbert fill her head. Every lesson he had taught her, every piece of advice he had given her, every hard training or impossible meditation he had taken her through… they all formed the kaleidoscope of her life after she had lost her parents. A profound love and sorrow welled up inside her as she fully acknowledged to herself that the old man had been everything to her. She might have disagreed with him on many accounts, but the fact that she had enough knowledge and courage to form her own radical opinions was evidence that he had taught her well.

              “You know you can’t win this, right?” said Quinn, a strange calm taking over her as she spoke to Grisner.

              “I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you,” Grisner assumed the most pleasant tone of voice.

              “I’m not cocky. You think killing my father, and now Kilbert, is winning. But it’s not. You won a battle or two through treachery, of course, but you’ll never win the war.”

              Grisner couldn’t help but let out a roar of a laughter. This was too entertaining.

              “Listen kid, you’re too young and naïve to know better. You think your little stint in social unrest means anything? It is an inconvenience, I grant you that, but nothing more. You think you won the war? Think twice. So you’ve awakened the herd. Now what? Somebody needs to think for it, organize it, lead it before even a dent is made in the system. Who’s gonna do that? You? Or your bunch of Banger scoundrels…” Grisner couldn’t continue because his body was shaking with an uncontrollable laughter. Quinn patiently waited for the fit to subside. It was eerie how calm and unaffected by his demeanor she was. It was as if Kilbert were there, holding her hand, keeping the fear and anxiety as far away as possible.

              “I wouldn’t call the people out there a herd. They might have been one ’til now, but not anymore. Besides, I’m not talking about this war. I’m talking about your personal war.”

              Grisner’s face turned stone cold. Quinn had gotten his attention. Good. She was on the right track.

              “The one you waged against us,” said Quinn.

              “It is my responsibility to get rid of social vermin, I’m just doing my job. And you Neo-Spartans are just that: vermin, disease spreading vermin.” Grisner’s voice rose in pitch.

              “How does it feel lying to yourself? Convincing? I didn’t think so. Your war is not with the Neo-Spartans, Grisner. It’s with my family. You wanted my mother and you lost her. And that loss blackened your existence. Your only real friend—you scratched him off your list and spent the rest of your youth lying in wait, plotting how to kill him. You weren’t man enough to face him in an open confrontation, you had to snake around and trick him. You won that battle, alright, but did it feel good? Did it make you free?” The steel in Quinn’s voice seemed to emphasize her question.

              A livid sheen covered Grisner’s face. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his fury locked up.

              “I guess not. You’re so stuck that you’re still chasing the ghost of my mother. But she is gone. I might look like Rose, but I’m not Rose. And even if I were, you’d lose again. Because there is nothing in you that can inspire respect or admiration. Let alone affection. So you went after the very man that was everything you are not. Yes, you killed Kilbert, yes with trickery again… another victorious battle for you. But I bet it doesn’t feel like a victory, does it? You can kill every one of us but you won’t win, Grisner. You’ve destroyed everything you might have aspired to, you’ve annihilated all your efforts to be something better, something different, and yet you still crave to be in the position of those two great men whose lives you cut short. You can’t. This was your war… and you lost it.”

              An ominous ripple went over the forest—fronds and tendrils contracted and expanded, the bulbous blossoms puffed poisonous breaths, making the air sting the lungs and water the eyes. The whole jungle seemed to be writhing in some kind of agony, pulsing like an organism that was about to explode. The noxious gas the plants were emitting was accompanied by a sudden rise in heat. Quinn watched this transformation, mesmerized and perplexed. She had expected an attack, a focused aggression, like the one she had witnessed when she and Gabriel had started a fight in the forest. But this was something else. She looked at Grisner. His face stretched tight from effort, betraying nothing. He seemed paralyzed by some inner struggle. Quinn’s eyes darted around, taking in the whole picture—her foe against the background of the hellish looking forest—and a realization struck her. The forest was mirroring Grisner. All the rage and the murderous intent that her words had unleashed and that he was fighting to keep a lid on, were sensed and reflected by the plants. For the first time, the jungle looked ugly to her and it flashed quickly through her mind that she had never perceived it as ugly before. Majestic and daunting, yes, but never ugly. It was the horrific malice of Grisner she was staring at, and she knew she was in danger. Seconds after the thought had crossed her mind, he sprang at her, eliminating the distance between them, meaty paws outstretched, reaching for her throat. She jumped back and tripped on the protruding roots of the trees. She fell, scurried backwards on all fours as Grisner lurched again, trying to trap her with his bulk. Quinn screamed and shut her eyes, expecting to be slammed against the forest floor and then strangled by his hands. But the pounce resulted in nothing. The adjacent vegetation swarmed around Grisner, trapping him in a natural net of branches, fronds and roots. The plants hissed and spewed and when Quinn opened her eyes, she got a glimpse of acidic ooze that Grisner was drenched in, bubbling his skin and corroding everything under it. He howled in pain and rage, and tried to fight his way out, tearing at everything that obstructed his escape, but his hopeless aggression brought on the nastier aspects of the jungle’s arsenal. His flesh was whipped and lacerated, the poisonous gas got so thick that he was suffocated to near death, and yet he wasn’t dying quickly enough. There was just enough oxygen to make him feel the sticky slime melt away his mass. In those final agonizing moments, he could not dispel his hate and his rage toward the McKenna family. The girl was right. Nevertheless, he didn’t let go. He fought and destroyed every single one of them in his mind while the forest ripped at him and digested him alive.

              Quinn watched the demise of her foe, afraid to move, afraid to think anything. There was relief, but now that he was gone her grief for the losses she had suffered in her life seemed to be magnified. The plants retreated from the battlefield and the forest gradually returned to normal. Quinn struggled to her feet and made her way through the place with tentative movements. She kept her thoughts clear, thanked the Triffids for saving her life and mostly wondered if coming here would ever be the same. Her confidence returned when the plants stayed away from her path, clearly giving her safe passage, and soon she stepped out of the jungle and into the barren area separating it from the city. The smashed bike lay discarded on its side. Quinn peered into the distance as if trying to figure out the future of the city. Grisner’s taunting words came back to her. They were cynical but true. There was a hard task ahead of her, ahead of everybody who helped her start the change. The cold feeling of doubt numbed her limbs. No. She should stay focused, she should try harder—she should do everything Kilbert and her father had taught her. Quinn shook away the hesitation and silenced the voices that told her she’d fail. Her eyes landed on Grisner’s cruiser. She jumped into it and started the engine. The machine hummed with power. Quinn stepped on the gas and peeled away toward the city. She had to get there fast. She had to get to Nico and the Vaqueros, she had to get to the Neo-Spartans. The thought that there were so many people she could rely on gave her strength. She floored the cruiser and smiled—Quinn, the ultimate rebel and outcast was going to ride into town as a Social Defense Force member. The irony of it all gave her a tickle. But there was a lot of work to do… and the possibilities were now endless.

 

THE END

 

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