AFTERMATH

  REMNANTS #12

  K.A. Applegate

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  CHAPTER 1

  FIRST I GOT TO DEAL WITH SOME BEASTS.

  Mo'Steel was a mess. His fingers and hands had been cut up by the sharp edges of his stolen Rider boomerang. His thigh boasted a gouge the size and color of a raw Mickey D's hamburger — except for where it oozed yellow-green pus. Antibiotics? Not happening. Face it, 'migo, Mo'Steel thought. If this infection doesn't clear up soon, you're toast.

  The slash across the front of his neck was maddeningly itchy, a good sign according to his mom, a sign that the wound was healing. She'd stitched his thigh as best she could, using thread made from plant fibers and an actual sewing needle from the days before the Rock, given — secretly — by a woman named Marina. She'd slipped the sewing stuff to Mo'Steel's mom with a warning against joining her son on such a dangerous journey with the Marauders. Olga had thanked Marina and gotten busy with her stitching.

  Mo'Steel's neck had decided to close up on its own. Good.

  Mo'Steel was no stranger to stitches, but in this very disturbing bizarro Earth, it was clear that those who were healthiest ruled. The fewer serious injuries, the better.

  So, the Marauders couldn't know about the ache in his ribs where Hawk had sat on him, crushing his chest. Nor could they know about the pain caused by the popped shoulder joint, also courtesy of the big, bald, and seriously ugly Hawk.

  Mo'Steel refused to let the Marauders know what real damage Hawk had done to him. Hawk. The Marauders' former leader Mo'Steel's predecessor.

  Man, this is so not good, Mo'Steel thought, not for the first time since waking up flat on his back in the Alpha bunker, surrounded by a ragtag group of Marauders, barely able to remember who he was, let alone how he'd gotten there.

  And now the dream storm had finally passed and he was starting out on a journey through the Shadow Zone, into the Dark Zone, where a battle awaited him. A battle that would solidify his leadership or kill him.

  Mo'Majesty. Not yet, he thought. First I got to deal with some Beasts.

  "J'ou be careful," Echo said. She touched Jobs's arm lightly, briefly, and he felt the familiar blush flood his cheeks. This Alpha colony girl looked only a few years older than him, yet she had a wisdom about her that almost made her seem like an adult.

  "Okay," Jobs said, taking a small step away from Echo and her serious brown eyes.

  "There are many dangers out there. We have seen some from our observation station. And the Marauders tell us so."

  "Okay," Jobs said again. "Uh, like what? Besides the flaming gas and all."

  And, he added silently, the awful, nagging scritching of little feet, always just out of sight... Echo didn't answer him.

  "Can you tell us what else to steer clear of?" Jobs asked, wondering if maybe he'd been unclear the first time.

  Echo still remained silent. Instead her eyes darted to the Marauders gathered at the back of the low-ceilinged room.

  Jobs got it. The other, unspoken dangers lay with the Marauders themselves. Jobs had seen that they were unpredictable and brutal. So, if there was more to watch out for, he and the others would have to be on their guard at all times. Which would, no doubt, be easier said than done.

  Jobs felt very, very tired. The last thing he wanted to do was to go to the Dark Zone. But he had to. For Mo'Steel.

  Because Mo'Steel was his best friend. And because he was their only hope of survival.

  The room stank. The whole place stank, every room and every corridor.

  2Face was not happy to be here in this stinking underground hole. More like a sewer, she thought.

  She didn't particularly relish the journey that lay ahead, but anything had to be better than being cooped up with these Alpha colony wackos.

  Like that chick Echo. 2Face looked up from her task — packing a filthy bag with essentials for survival — and eyed Echo with suspicion.

  That air of superiority. What was that about? Because her DNA had helped them to create a new life in their "lab"? 2Face snorted. This place was a joke. She looked up again. 2Face saw Echo offer something to Jobs, saw him take it, then give it back. What's going on? she wondered. 2Face did not like the way Echo favored Jobs.

  We are in a mess, 2Face thought angrily, making a strong, tight knot in the ties of her pack. She just knew the Marauders and the Alphas were in on it. In on the plan not to let the people from the big ship survive any longer than necessary.

  And she knew who was behind the whole thing. She knew the identity of the plot's supreme leader: Billy. It was all Billy's fault.

  "Ow!" 2Face stumbled forward over the stack of rags at her feet. When she regained her footing, she turned around to see who had pushed her.

  The Marauder named Nesia stood there, hands on her hips, grinning. "You are an ugly girl," she said through heavily cracked lips.

  2Face was too furious to respond and just watched as Nesia swaggered away.

  CHAPTER 2

  "NO ONE IS SPECIAL."

  "Ouch!"

  Mo'Steel sucked in a breath and bent, carefully, to pick up the small battered plate he'd just dropped. His torn thigh screamed with pain at the effort. Just another inch, he told himself. Come on. With the tips of his fingers Mo'Steel snatched up the plate and began the slow and painful rise to full height. When he finally got there his leg was actually shaking.

  And the guy named Newton was looking at him like a lion looks at a limping gazelle. Mo'Steel knew he was going to need protection — a lot of it.

  He looked away from the big Marauder and said loudly, "We're gonna need weapons."

  The guy called Old Berg turned to the one-eared woman named Aga and grinned, but it wasn't a mean-spirited grin. Toothless, but not mean-spirited.

  Then he turned back to Mo'Steel. "All Marauders carry weapons," he said, holding up his own crude club. "J'ou carry weapon, too. No one is special."

  The woman named Nesia cackled and poked a little boy named Walbert, who, Echo had told him, was Nesia's son, Walbert edged away from his mother and looked up at Mo'Steel with curious eyes.

  Duh. Of course everyone would carry his or her own weapon. Every man or woman for himself was probably the code of survival among these people. Mo'Steel wondered about the kids, though. You could arm a kid. But that didn't mean he or she could fight off a huge beast. Looking back at Walbert, who was pretty skinny, Mo'Steel wondered if Newton and the other strong ones would risk their lives to save one of their children. He decided he didn't want to know the answer to that.

  "Yeah," he said now, trying to bluster his way back to control. "Of course. What I meant was we want to choose what weapons we carry."

  Aga nodded and poked Old Berg. The man turned and walked out of the room. "Old Berg get j'ou some, j'ou wait," Aga said to him.

  Mo'Steel nodded and, pretending his leg wasn't about to give out, he walked — pain pounding with every step — over to the closest wall and leaned back against it. He folded his arms across his chest and let his strong leg take as much weight off his wounded leg as it could.

  Mo'Steel closed his eyes against the furtive looks of the Marauders and did some thinking.

  Typical Marauder combat, Mo'Steel figured, was probably hand-to-hand, a fight-to-the-finish, killor-be-killed, one-man-left-standing sort of deal.

  Like what had happened between Mo'Steel himself and big, bald Hawk.

  Hawk had cut Mo'Steel with a crude, rusty knife that looked like it had been made from the lid off a can of tuna. Mo'Steel had seen other Marauders with similar makeshift weapons. Anything could be a weapon if the user's intent was strong.

  And the Marauders had poison; Mo'Steel had heard that from an Alpha named Mattock. Back before the psychotropic storm. Hawk had destroyed Woody, the Alphas' leader, with a poisoned blade. Mo'Steel opened his eyes. Old Berg was returning, lugging what looked like a dirty old pillowcase. He upturned the sack and spilled its contents at Mo'Steel's feet.

  "Weapons," he grunted, panting slightly from the exertion. "J'ou choose."

  Mo'Steel gritted his teeth and pushed carefully off the wall. He hadn't asked for the dubious honor of being next in line for leadership of the Marauders. Man, he thought, am not cut out to be a leader. That was more Jobs's sort of thing.

  Mo'Steel looked across to where his best buddy was fumbling with a huge knot in the strap of his pack, his face flushed. Well, he thought worriedly, gotta admit Jobs doesn't look much like leader material right now.

  When the Remnants were armed — except for Edward and Roger Dodger — Violet realized they were surrounded. The Alphas and Marauders stood in a two-person-deep semicircle around the Remnants.

  But it didn't look like they were about to be attacked. In fact, it seemed the Marauders were about to conduct some sort of ceremony.

  Violet listened as each Marauder formally introduced him- or herself. There was Newton, bigger than the others, a guy with a permanent look of suspicion or distrust. There were Claw and Snipe and Balder, only slightly smaller than Newton, but, Violet judged, looking at their dull eyes, far less intelligent. There was Rattler; from the way he swaggered around restlessly, Violet sensed he was trouble.

  Old Berg seemed relatively harmless; maybe he just seemed tired. Then there was Cocker; he stood a bit apart from the other men and often glanced at Echo. A youngish guy named Eel stood next to Aga; she seemed to be the senior woman, formidable but not unkind. Violet had seen her alone with Old Berg and put them down as a couple.

  Nesia — she was also trouble, Violet guessed; she was a bully. You could just tell by looking at her. A woman named Curia seemed unremarkable but for the fact that the Marauder children clustered around her. Yorka was introduced by Aga; Yorka didn't speak. Grost — she seemed sullen, Violet thought. Or maybe it was something else.

  Then there was a kid named Badger, maybe about Violet's own age. He had a receptive air about him, something open and curious that set him apart from the other Marauders. Violet decided she liked him.

  Finally, there was Sanchez. Violet liked him, too, but she found that a bit troubling. He alone wore his hair shaved close to his scalp. He alone wore an adornment — a piece of metal strung on a cord and hanging down on his chest. There was something — otherworldly — about Sanchez. Violet thought it was like he was there in the room with them, powerful in presence, but also somewhere else — someplace she could not go.

  "J'ou come from the sky," he said now, and it sounded more like a statement than a question.

  Violet shot a glance at Olga, then at Jobs. Who was supposed to be the spokesperson? Mo'Steel? "Well, uh, sort of," Jobs said.

  "Don't lie!" Newton said sharply. "Marauders not stupid!" He took a step forward but was restrained by a look from Sanchez.

  "As hard as this might be to understand," Violet said, modulating her voice to be gentle but not condescending, "we come from — the past."

  And before Newton could explode again, she explained briefly how a handful of people had been selected to board the Mayflower just before the Rock hurtled into planet Earth, destroying everything. Well, almost everything. Almost everyone.

  "For five hundred years we — existed — in a sort of coma," she said, watching the varied looks of puzzlement and suspicion and awe on the faces of Alphas and Marauders.

  "And then," Jobs said suddenly, "we woke up. Some of us, anyway. Most of us were dead. We were on board a ship — the one you saw. An alien ship."

  "What j'ou mean, alien?" Newton said, eyes narrowed.

  "People — creatures — exist throughout the universe, not just here on Earth," Jobs explained. "Lifeforms far more advanced than humans — I mean, than humans like us, like those of us before the Rock. See —"

  Violet registered the rising fury of the Alphas and Marauders and knew she had to shut Jobs up in order to prevent a fight.

  "Long story short," she said hurriedly, "there was trouble. Lots of it. And then some — people — took the ship and left us stranded here. With you. Except we didn't know you were here."

  "What were j'ou doing here in the first place?" Westie demanded. She was the first Alpha to have joined the conversation. "How did j'ou find us? Did j'ou know this was Earth?"

  "We looked for you," Jobs said. "For Earth, I mean. We hoped — we wanted to come back. We hoped we could find a home here."

  "Earth is not j'our home!" That was an Alpha named Ali Kosh.

  "But it used to be," Olga said, sounding like she was going to cry.

  "Then why did j'ou leave when it was threatened?" Westie asked.

  "How could we stay?" Olga looked at Violet as if for assurance. "How could we fight?"

  "We stayed," Old Berg said. "We fought, in our own way. Our forefathers and mothers."

  Some of us were just kids, Violet said silently to herself. Some of us still are. "This place doesn't belong to j'ou," Rattler snarled.

  "Are you saying we can't stay?!" 2Face demanded. "How the heck are we supposed to leave? Where are we supposed to go?!" Violet felt her stomach clench.

  "J'ou pose a severe threat to our resources. J'ou are an unknown quantity in a world in which every factor must be carefully assessed. And some of us still question j'our story."

  "Then why are you letting us stay?" Violet asked, looking imploringly at Sanchez, dreading the answer but wanting to know. "Why does Mo'Steel have to fight these Beasts? Why?"

  "It is enough that j'ou are alive," Sanchez said with finality. "Answers will come in time."

  Old Berg stepped forward into the center of the circle and pointed to a pile of what looked like skin pouches.

  "Here," he said. "Each of j'ou will take one. J'ou will keep it close. If j'ou lose it, there is no more. It is a sign that j'ou be a Marauder."

  "For now," Newton muttered.

  Violet gently shoved Mo'Steel forward. He should be the first to take a bladder.

  She watched as he bent to grab the closest bladder. She knew him well enough to see the extreme pain he was trying to mask. When he stood his face was gray. Violet's heart sank.

  CHAPTER 3

  "WHAT DID I EVER DO TO HER?"

  Nice, 2Face thought, fingering the cruddy bladder into which the last of her precious water had been trickled. Now I have a purse to match my outfit if anyone thinks I'm actually going to drink from this thing...

  Something made her raise her head, some noise or maybe a change in the air — an increase in tension. 2Face hadn't thought that was possible, but obviously, she'd been wrong. Facing 2Face and the other Remnant females, in a tight bunch of smelly rags and skins, were the Marauder females.

  "Where is j'our babies?" the old woman demanded suddenly.

  Before 2Face could reply, "It's none of your business," Olga stepped forward. "These girls," she said, gesturing to Violet and Noyze and lastly to 2Face, "are too young to be mothers. Um, where we come from."

  The Marauder women didn't seem to like Olga's answer. Some snickered. One gave 2Face and the other girls the once-over and laughed. The old woman glared at the other Marauder women and they quieted down.

  "And j'ou?" she said to Olga.

  Olga pointed to Mo'Steel.

  "He's my son," she said calmly, though 2Face could see a blush rising on her cheeks. "You know that already."

  "Others?" the old woman persisted.

  2Face rolled her eyes. What was the point of all these questions? "No others," Olga replied. "He's my only child."

  There was a moment of tense silence. 2Face itched with annoyance. But then the old woman relaxed her frowning expression and smiled. Sort of.

  "I am Aga," she said.

  "Yes," Olga replied. "I know. I am Olga."

  The similarity of the two names seemed to strike the woman as a good omen or something because she opened her mouth and actually laughed. The others took her cue and smiled and one touched Noyze's hair and another shoved a little kid at Violet, who knelt and went all goopy over him.

  Everyone seemed suddenly all okay except for 2Face — and the monster called Nesia.

 

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