Ghost Book One: The Earth Transformed by Mike Stackpole Nathan Long

Author:Mike Stackpole, Nathan Long [Stackpole, Mike, Long, Nathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Wasteland, Wasteland 2, Post-Apocalyptic, Ghost, Earth, Rangers, Raiders, Adventure, Game
Publisher: inXile entertainment Inc.
Published: 2014-05-21T04:00:00+00:00

***

The room beyond the cell block was a lab as spotless and bright as the rest of the facility. Everything shined, the dissection tables with their channels for blood drainage shined, the trays full of knives and saws and retractors and other implements I had no idea about shined, and the wall at the end of the room that had a four–by–three grid of square steel doors set into it shined.

Me, Kate, Athalia, Ace, and the rangers moved through the room like hungry coyotes, looting the scalpels and other things that could be used as weapons and ransacking closets and drawers full of bandages, splints, trauma packs, and antiseptic creams. Kate was practically giddy at the sight of it all. I stuffed my pack.

“Hey.”

We all turned. Thrasher was looking at a cluster of photos on the wall by the far door. Had he spoken? I’d never heard him speak before. He must have, because he tapped on a photo and waved us over.

Athalia was busy looking into the ranks of the square steel doors on the end wall, but the rest of us gathered around the big man. He pointed to one of the photos. It was a framed pre–war pic of a bunch of people in white lab coats standing outside the facility, smiling and squinting in the bright sunshine another guy in a lab coat shook hands with a fat man in a military uniform in front of them.

Hell Razor scowled. “Scientists. So?”

Thrasher tapped the glass again. Beneath it was a strip of paper with typed words on it, fixed to the photo with yellowing tape. “Read that.”

Who knew he could read? Hidden depths.

Angie leaned in. “General Wade Huntsinger congratulates Dr. Irwin John Finster on his appointment as project director of the DOD’s newest research facility, Project Darwin, which will study biological solutions to various hypothetical national security scenarios.”

Ace grunted. Vargas frowned.

“Can’t be the same guy, can it?”

I laughed. “From back before the bombs fell? Not a chance. He’d be what? A hundred and fifty years old? He’d be the oldest man in the world.”

“Maybe our guy is his son,” said Kate. “He could be Irwin John Finster Junior. Or the third, even.”

“Could be,” said Vargas. “Though none of the townies mentioned anything like that.”

“Might be a clone,” I said.

Angie shot me a look, then cleared her throat. “Well, we’ll ask him when we find him. I’ve got a list of questions for that son–of–a–bitch, as a matter of—”

“Ghost.” Athalia was looking up from one of the open steel doors in the back wall. “You better look at this. I found something else.”

She stepped back as I approached. Apparently the steel doors were connected to some kind of refrigeration unit, because a cold mist drifted out from the open one. Inside the door was a long metal tray on rollers, and on the tray lay a big rubberized bag with a zipper down the front. Athalia had unzipped the bag half–way and pulled it open.

There was a body

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