Manhunt (Depop-17 Book 2) by J. Marianna

Author:J. Marianna [Marianna, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Two arms and two legs. Two firm duckies and a rock-hard follow-up. A flower that’s so tight and mean it probably has some secret weapon built into it. If I flex those muscles just right I bet I could shoot fireballs.

All of me is here, safely on the other side, safely inside the new and improved bubble. Cindy was on the level and I did not leave my follow-up behind. That’s good, because her lover-twirb wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in here on his own.

Or maybe he would have. I was ready for a war, for security forces, for robots and deathers and genetically engineered regs as tall as that super-fucker we just nixed, but instead I found this.

White. When I scan the scene all I get is white. Stark and clean and empty.

This is not what I was expecting at all. Fields of green, I thought. Fertile-fertile, I thought, with lakes and rivers and streams. Idas would have a wonderland set-up in here for sure. He’s the man.

And he would have security. Fertile security. It would be an epic battle getting to him.

But this is not a wonderland and there is nothing at all nasty here to greet us. There is nothing.

This is even more bleak than the roasted goop we just left. That was a mistake, a disaster area. This looks very intentional and very permanent.

“What in the name of the mission?” John says.

“What if Idas didn’t make the bubble?” I say. “What if The Four did, just like everyone says? And they made this, too?”

“Why? This is awful.” John squints into the vast nothingness. “The Four are supposed to be life-givers. They make babies stronger and all that. Heal people. There is nothing alive in here at all.”

Some instruments pop out of John’s right hand and he waves them around in the air. “Zero parts life within ten miles.” The instruments vanish back into his fingers. “Zero parts life except for us. That never happens. Not unless you’re in deep space.”

“Let’s look around,” I say. “This is a big place. Maybe it’s only like this around the edges. Secure facilities in the pop have clear tracks around them so that no one can sneak up. Large perimeters with no cover.”

“So we might get shot while we’re trying to cross it?” John is trembling and glancing around like a toxie mouse in an aviary.

“We just survived a million megajule blast,” I say, slapping John hard on the shoulder. “We can take whatever they got.”

We start running. In these bodies we can cover a lot of ground fast. We’re eight feet tall and we don’t get tired. I’m guessing we’re running about forty-five miles an hour.

We run and we run and we run.

After two hours I figure we’ve covered about ninety miles of bleakness. If all of this is a clear track then there must be something special-special on the inside of it.

Then it ends. There are buildings on the horizon, lots of them. Not tall, elegant spires like in R79, but low and long.

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