Dead Shock: A Scifi Horror Novel: The Shock Series, Book 1 by Wallace Henry

Author:Wallace Henry [Henry, Wallace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-16T22:00:00+00:00

21

The Rohm Tenements appeared, on first glance, as stylishly built apartments for Xenograd’s less fortunate citizens, but the moment one entered them, it became apparent that they were made more for livestock than human beings.

Just walking through them produced an uncomfortable feeling.

They were cramped, dirty, and foul-smelling, not to mention the fact that due to they were completely uninhabitable.

Like they had been constructed in a hurry. Or like the builders didn’t care about the people inhabiting them.

Rats openly defied the presence of human beings, standing on their hind legs and hissing as if their territory had been usurped. Cockroaches scaled the walls in numbers that caused Guerra too shiver.

“It makes me itchy just fucking being in here,” Coulson said. “This place would be better served if I used my torch to burn it all down.”

“This is the lowest level of human existence on the ARK,” Guerra said. “One of two things is true: they were built poorly to house a group the ruling class didn’t care about, or they were built quickly because they didn’t expect a large influx of immigrants.”

“Either way,” Sahana said, “this is inhuman.”

Guerra said, “When you see people as things that can either serve you or grant you power, you stop worrying about the little things—like common decency.”

“It’s one of the greatest and most obvious failings of totalitarian governments,” Sterling added. “They often boast that a classless society is best, but social stratification happens everywhere. Even in a place where the wealth is ‘shared.’”

The elevator was not functioning, and the stairwell had been destroyed, in parts, so the crew had to ascend by means of a kind of measured climbing, in which they traversed a bunch of rubble and garbage to reach the next working set of stairs.

“Thank god we’re wearing masks,” Coulson said, “or else I’d probably be tossing my cookies everywhere. I have this—thing. I can handle some pretty foul shit. But when I see people this fucking poor—it just sickens me.”

Guerra rolled his eyes. “I’m sure these people would appreciate your compassion.”

“Serve and protect,” Coulson replied, offering a mock salute in return.

The rooms reeked of filth, and laid on top was the stench of death. It was like wandering into a wrecked funeral parlor, and it got worse with each passing step.

Their masks—outfitted with complex air filters—managed to vacuum away some of the smell.

But only some.

There was garbage everywhere. Long forgotten bags of used diapers and rotten food, left out like bodies after a bloody war on contested ground.

Oh, and there were bodies, too. Those which had not completely decomposed lay in hallways, struck down by weapons or sickness, and at this point, it didn’t much matter how. They were dead, and they had been left to rot.

Occasionally, one of them would accidentally step into the middle of a body, some kind of sludgy, gelatinous mixture of bone and flesh, and let out an awful, surprised gasp, one that would send them fumbling for the safeties on their weapons.

Only Katarina seemed unmoved by it all.

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