Slave Empire - Prophecy
Rayne started awake, opened her eyes and sat up, instantly alert. Weak sunlight filtered in through the soot-streaked window, and her breath condensed in the cold air, yet she was warm. She had slept through the night, her legs no longer hurt, and, when she checked them, her wounds were dry and scabbed. She was also refreshed, a metallic taste on her tongue. The alarming peculiarities made her wonder afresh at the strong sensation of being watched. She surveyed the dank, gloomy room, her eyes coming to rest on the ashes of her fire. Her stomach groaned. Today she must find food.
Dismissing the inexplicable oddities for the moment, she pulled her jacket closer and rose, going over to the door to peer out. Rain had fallen during the night, and she was surprised it had not woken her, since it was so dangerous. Puddles hissed as they ate into the tar, and acrid steam stung her nostrils. She made her way down the deserted street, stopping to wash her face and drink at a tap. Hunger drove her to find an autocrat’s store, despite the danger.
Rayne dashed across doors, alleys and intersections, staying close to walls, where she could duck out of sight. Even vagrants were a threat to her now. Her only defence was to act like a raider, so they would think she was armed. It took her an hour to locate a food store with a combination of savvy, rat-following and a keen nose, but her despair grew at the sight of the four guards who patrolled its entrance. Apparently it had been raided recently. Rayne considered finding a less well-guarded one, but continuing her dangerous journey on an empty stomach was inadvisable. Like most food stores, it was an old shop with all the doors save one bricked up. In the early days, raiders had used explosives to blow open food store doors, and some autocrats had given up repairing the damage and employed more guards instead. This had led to raiders sometimes being killed, which pleased the autocrats.
The rivalry between store guards and raiders had become something of a deadly game, which was why guards did not merely stand outside the doors, or wait inside in ambush. To even the odds, they patrolled in front of the store, giving raiders a chance to get in if they had the guts to try. Guards were lazy, and not as fast as raiders when it came to running, but once a raider entered a food store, the guards had a much better chance to corner and catch or kill him or her.
Rayne hid in a doorway across the street and watched the sentries, noticing that there was about a minute when both pairs had their backs to the door. This gave her a slim chance, as they clearly intended, but if they caught her, she would become an autocrat’s plaything, a prospect grim enough to make her hesitate. Then her stomach rumbled, reminding her of why she was there and that she really had little choice in the matter if she wanted to survive.
Rayne waited for the right moment, missing two before she plucked up enough courage to make her dash. She sprinted across the road and ghosted through the door, half expecting shouts and the pounding of feet as she darted behind the first pile of boxes. Her heart’s hammering seemed loud in the silence, and she surveyed the mountains of cartons stacked against the walls. She tore open the nearest and discovered plastic-wrapped food bars, nutritious but, in this case, tasteless. She gathered some, then looked in another box, which contained tinned food, too heavy to carry. A third box yielded protein and vitamin pills, and she filled her pockets with these and flavoured food bars.
Once she had as much as she could carry, she returned to the door. Staying inside too long was dangerous, since the guards sometimes checked for intruders. She peered out and ducked back. The guards faced the door, and she waited, then looked again just as they turned away.
As Rayne raced across the road, shouts rang out behind her, followed by the thud of running feet, and she veered off to run down the street, her strides lengthening as her muscles stretched. For a while she revelled in her speed, but all too soon burning fatigue invaded her legs. Sprinting was not something she could do for too long, especially carrying an armload of food. The guards’ shots ricocheted off the walls on either side, alarmingly close, but they only seemed to be trying to frighten her, for now. She swerved into an alley, hoping to lose them in the shadows.
The men followed, whooping with triumph as they gained on her. Dropping the food, she sprinted again, intent only on escape. Her legs were lumps of burning lead and her lungs seemed to have shrunk. She hurdled a pile of old cardboard and stumbled, sobbing with terror and exhaustion. The alley ended a few metres further on in a high wall. She slowed, her mind numb with horror, unwilling to look back at her pursuers.
A globe of golden light appeared ahead and brightened to blinding intensity, and she halted and squinted, panting. The light vanished, and a man, clad mostly in black, with a grey, knee-length coat, stood there. Although he remained immobile, in this hostile place she could only assume he was an enemy. His appearance from the golden light made her wonder if he was another alien, or if the autocrats had invented this odd mode of travel.
If he was an alien, Earth was becoming rife with them. Her situation was too dire and her mind too full of dread to contemplate this oddity, however. The guards would reach her momentarily. Letting her aching legs fold, she sank to her knees and waited for the guards’ rough hands to drag her to her feet. Instead, the unmistakable hum of a laser bolt blazed over her, filling the alley with shimmering blue light. Shouts behind her made her look back. Two guards were sprawled on the asphalt, and the other two had stopped. Another brilliant beam crisped overhead, and a third man collapsed with a strangled cry. The last guard raised his weapon as yet another vicious buzz and blue flash passed over her. He crumpled with a hoarse cough, and a tense silence fell.
Rayne stared at the bodies, stunned, then faced the stranger. His coat flared in the breeze that made scraps of paper dance along the grimy tar. He holstered his laser, the soft click loud in the stillness. He was too far away for her to make out any details, little more than a shadow in the gloom, but his clothes appeared matt, unlike an autocrat’s, and he was too relaxed for a raider.
Considering the way in which he had arrived, she did not think he was either, and his immobility mystified her. She was usually good at sensing people’s moods, but he seemed to merely study her. He looked up, revealing the profile of what appeared to be a black mask, then golden light engulfed him, and she looked away. When the light faded, he was gone.
Papers scuttled past in the breeze, only their whispery dance and her wheezing gasps breaking the hush. Her eyes flinched from the guards’ bodies while she rested, swallowing to ease her dry throat. She tried not to think about what would have happened if the store guards had caught her, grateful to her mysterious rescuer even though she wondered at his motivations. Her eyes darted around in uneasy vigilance, wondering if he intended to return and capture her. Why would he rescue her, unless he wanted her alive, and, if so, what did he want with her?
Stories of aliens experimenting on humans had abounded for decades, but she had always dismissed them as urban myths. She could not be certain the man-shaped beings who used the gold light to travel were indeed aliens. They could be advanced humans for all she knew. Perhaps a wing of the military had invented the odd mode of travel, or made contact with aliens who had given them the technology. Why they would want to help an insignificant raider girl was beyond her, though. Rayne climbed to her feet and went over to the sprawled bodies. All store guards carried 9mm automatics, and she collected the weapons and four spare ammunition clips.
The arsenal was rather heavy, however, and she did not possess a bag. Nor could she use four pistols, but they would be useful for trading or as spares, in case she or Rawn lost theirs. She memorised the name on the rusted street sign at the end of the lane, then found a niche under a dumpster further up the alley and stashed three pistols and two clips. She tucked the fourth weapon into her waistband and stuffed the extra clips into her pockets, feeling far more secure now that she was armed. Rawn had taught her how to use a gun, although she had only been able to fire three practice shots, due to the shortage of ammunition. The stranger’s help had been a windfall, too, but she did not wa
nt to linger any longer than necessary, in case he returned. Rayne left the alley, detouring around the corpses to pick up her food.
A few blocks away, she crouched in a secluded corner to wolf down as much of her spoils as her stomach would hold. The mysterious beings or people who appeared and vanished were unnerving, and, even though they had helped her twice, she wished they would leave her alone. Perhaps they would when she was safe with Rawn again. After resting for a few minutes, she set off once more, hoping she found her brother before hunger forced her to raid another store.