Mercenaries of the Apocalypses [System Apocalypse Progression]

Clara opened the boot and bobbed under the cover as the rain began to pour. Gabriel joined her, pushing his frizzy wet hair out of his eyes. His cheeks were flushed red with exertion and his cargo shorts were covered in muddy streaks from the climb up to the jeep. Streams of rain streaked over the roadside, trickling down the hill where they eventually met a small lake at the base of the mountainside, but presently, Clara could only see a couple dozen metres through the grey downpour.

"What's this?" Gabriel said, leaning under the cover. Raindrops pelted the boot door above his head.

"The array."

Catching his breath, Gabriel scowled. "Where?"

"What do you mean where? That's it, it's all there."

"Why?"

"Why? What planet are you on? That's what we've been gone for. We're upgrading the communications array, remember."

"I know that, of course. This isn't what I drew though, I'm afraid."

Clara's heart stopped. "You've got to be kidding me."

"No, erm." Gabriel opened a side door and climbed into the jeep. Rummaging around the stacked array, he emerged with a single rack unit, shoving it under his flowery shirt to protect it from the rain.

"Is that right?" Clara said.

Gabriel nodded, crouching back under cover.

"So it is here?"

"Yes."

"What else?" Clara peaked into the backseat for more lookalike units.

"Just this."

She froze as the words sank in. "Just that?"

"Yup."

"Why didn't you draw just that then? This took me five hours to dismantle."

"I thought I did," Gabriel said.

Unfolding the sketch, Clara stretched it beneath his nose. "Really?"

"See," Gabriel said, pointing to the centre of the complex schematic, verging on the abstract. "I circled it."

"You circled several things."

"No, actually, those are paint pot ring stains."

Clara stared at the schematic flabbergasted. Raindrops pattered the paper, making black streaking teardrops of the ink. "So all you need is this one little bit here?"

"Yeah, and you retrieved it. Well done."

The paper crumpled as she made a fist. She exhaled loudly. "Give me it."

He handed her the unit wordlessly.

"Lead the way."

Gabriel hung his head like an admonished dog as he began the descent back to the bunker. Clara gave herself a minute to calm down before following him. Once inside the bunker, the acrid smell of fermenting booze mingled with the crisp mountain air as Gabriel closed the door behind them. At least it masked the smell of mould and body odour. Andy swivelled in the desk chair as the entered, draped in a dressing gown. "Brew's doing well."

"Fantastic." Clara headed for the shower. Drawing a curtain over the alcove, she undressed and flicked the boiler on, setting the timer to ninety seconds. With the extractor fan running, the lights on and Gabriel's computer system, ninety seconds was all the electricity they could spare. It might deplete the bunker's batteries, but its renewable systems would replenish the usage quickly enough. Of course, there was always the option that Clara top up the metre herself using her Current Control ability, but the batteries were located in a maintenance hatch across the other side of the room, and she didn't much fancy running naked back and forth from the shower to keep it ticking.

Excuse me Clara, Ohm's voice seeped into her mind. Is this a convenient time to discuss your Augmentation.

"Not really," Clara muttered, covering herself with a t-shirt, suddenly feeling exposed. "I know what you're going to say anyway."

Ah, excellent, Ohm said in his oddly human voice, like a butler from an old movie. Then your recalibration shall occur shortly.

"With any luck."

Scrubbing herself like a well-practised dance routine, Clara was done in eighty-five seconds. She held herself as the water ebbed, strong fingers clenching hard triceps. Those weren't her arms, were they? They were too hard, too muscular. Her thighs were too thick. Her mind wandered to the lump in her stomach–the extra organ that seemed to be developing there. Aside from the occasional cramps, it didn't cause her any problems, except to set her anxiety off. Ohm had informed her it was safe, but she felt like a walking scientific experiment at times.

Thankfully, she'd always worn baggy clothing, so didn't need to go up a size. At least the serum hadn't turned her into a muscular hulk or deformity, like Andy had teased her it would.

However, there were a few abnormalities. A patch of discolouration spread across her palms, from where she summoned Thunderlances. Her fingers ached from overstrain channelling Teslatic Waves. Neither ability had been calibrated at an Augmentation Master Console. Drying herself in the alcove, Clara's muscles began to twitch all over. She was used to the sensation by now–it got worse when her body relaxed, plus, there were the random headaches and bouts of dizziness. Her body was under a lot of strain due to the Augmentation's modifications, and from her own enthusiastic training regime. But why bother being a super soldier if you weren't going to constantly get stronger?

Wrapping herself in a towel, she emerged in search of fresh clothes. She had cleared two of the warehouse-like shelves for herself beside the bed, and folded fresh clothes into piles. Gabriel unsubtly watched her as she chose a top and shorts–paying extra attention to her choice of underwear.

"How's the array?" Cara said, pretending not to notice his stare.

"Oh, yes. Just installing the drivers now."

Clara dressed behind the curtain, then sat on the edge of the bed drying her hair. She was hungry, but couldn't summon the strength to rise. The hot water had relaxed her muscles, and now they twitched and spasmed–her Augmentation throwing a tantrum at her having not recalibrated in a while. Pushing on her knees to rise, she waddled over to the kitchen. The counter was cluttered with boxes and empty cans–neither of the boys knew how to clean up after themselves. An overspill of junk from the mound which Gabriel refused to throw out scattered the floor beside the minifridge. Clara withdrew her knife and pierced a tin of tomatoes, then sniffed the contents. Edible. Her stomach was used to the slightly vinegar flavouring by now.

A handgun caught her eye resting beside the sink. Clara had left it behind on their recent mission, trusting to her Augmentation's powers instead. But perhaps that was a mistake. Truth was, it hadn't been a tactical decision. The handgun was what she'd used to kill Alister on the road outside the Golden City. She'd cleaned it since, stripped and oiled it, convinced herself that it wasn't important. It was just a tool. But every time she touched the rough handle, felt the weight of its cold steel in her hands, she saw his bloodshot eyes staring up past the ironsight. "Why?"

Clara closed her eyes, but the image only became more vivid. She felt the trigger's resistance in the crook of her finger, its minute give and the tremble of the pistol's hammer.

Clara opened her eyes again, glaring at the pistol. She didn't regret killing him, but neither did she relish the memory. Perhaps that was for the best.

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"Oh god," Gabriel wheezed, keeling over and spluttering up his guts. Andy chuckled above him, a plastic bottle of homemade booze in his hand.

"You like it?"

Gabriel banged his fists on the floor. "God, why?"

Andy laughed aloud. Clara braced herself–it was a sound Clara normally associated with violence. But as Gabriel rose from the floor, Andy patted him on the back, and a smile crept across Clara's lips.

"Good, yeah?"

"No," Gabriel croaked. "It's horrid."

"Aw come on. I put love into this. It'll make you blind."

Gabriel looked up, puzzled. "Is that possible?"

"Of course it is, with good stuff."

Gabriel slouched in his chair, shoulders slumped in defeat. "Why don't you have a turn if you're so tough, Andrew."

Andy blew out of his lips dismissively and swigged from the bottle. "Ahh," he said, sticking his tongue out. Suddenly, he shut his jaw and he covered his mouth with his fist. Andy's face turned red as he fought to contain a cough.

"Is it good?" Gabriel mocked. "What about that awful peppery aftertaste?"

Andy spluttered through his hand, tears welling in his eyes, but just barely managed to maintain his composure. Panting, he wiped his lips and handed Gabriel the bottle again. "One more."

"No way."

"Can you guess it?"

"No, I won't drink any more."

"Go on, three guesses."

"What's that?" Clara asked.

"The secret ingredient," Andy said, striding over towards her, bottle in hand.

She took it off him and sniffed the cap, wrinkling her nose. "I don't know… Glue?"

"Glue? Come on sis, who do you take me for? That's disgusting." Andy shook his head, taking another swig, smacking his lips. "Glue's not a bad shout actually. Gabe-"

"Ah," the techie announced, tapping loudly on his keyboard. "Look, the setup is complete."

"Gabe, listen," Andy continued. "What glue do you have?"

"Look, Andy." Gabriel pointed at one of five computer screens, his voice lathered in a fake enthusiasm. "The array is installed. Isn't that excellent."

"What glue do you have?"

"Wi-with this installed, we can extend your communications range." Gabriel turned his back on Andy, clacking at his keys. "Let me just patch the channels."

Andy shot Clara a glance. "Am I speaking? Can you hear me?"

"Give it a rest," Clara said, pushing past him to hide her smirk. Sitting on the bed, she watched Gabriel work for the better part of an hour, massaging the knots out of her feet and combing her hair. Meanwhile, Andy mashed fresh potatoes with a wooden mallet and poured them into the cooking pots. It wasn't long before the fermenting smell of the distillery overpowered her clean after-shower feeling.

Bringing up her terminal, she inspected her new abilities.

Thunder Delineation

Thunderclap (Tier 1): The Electrobiotic Conductor emits thunderous energy from kinetic contact, capable of stunning foes or causing damage in close range.

Thunder Strike* (Tier 2): Strike an opponent physically with the power of a thunderbolt.

Guiding Light (Tier 1): The Electrobiotic Conductor clenches their fist, condensing thunderous energy into a controlled light, usable as a beacon.

Guiding Flare* (Tier 1): An amplified guiding light which imitates a flare.

Thunder Lance* (Tier 2): Condensing an orb of thunderous energy, the Electrobiotic Conductor is capable of launching a burning lance at adversaries.

Tesla Delineation

Teslatic Burst (Tier 1): The Electrobiotic Conductor may ionise their body, summoning power from the atmosphere, nearby electronic equipment and their biological reserves, and transmit this energy in the form of lightning. Control over this ability may lead to a plethora of applications both in and out of combat.

Tesla Electrical Wave* (Tier 2): A more accurate, powerful and lasting version of the Tesla Lightning Surge.

Neural Shock (Tier 1): Target the nervous system of foes with a precise electrical attack, temporarily paralysing or causing intense disorientation.

Beneath her list of abilities there was a warning message. Nervously, Clara checked it.

*Warning: Many new adaptations remain uncalibrated. Prolonged usage may result in fatigue, malfunction and DNA deterioration. Un-calibrated abilities include: Thunderlance, Thunderstrike, Guiding Flare, Teslatic Wave. Visit an Augmentation Master Console immediately. Mutation rate has risen to eighteen percent.

Clara sighed and put the terminal away. Until they found an AMC, all she could do was use her Augmentation less to keep the mutation rate down. She didn't want to find out what happened when it reached one-hundred percent.

"It's expanding the range now," Gabriel said, twirling around in his chair. "The system should display results in a few minutes." He tinkered with Clara's wrist terminal while they waited, checking the fuse capacitor he had fitted to prevent the terminal overloading when Clara used her Teslatic powers. "Once it's complete, I should be able to access your system remotely."

"Good," Clara said, and felt a weight lift from her. Months ago, she'd been suspicious of anyone touching her terminal, but had no reservations entrusting it to the goofy techie. Gabriel was odd, but that was just the type that Clara attracted, and she trusted him.

The speakers on his desk pinged. Gabriel scrolled through a list of entries appearing on his screen, humming to himself. "Eighty miles. One-hundred miles. There's the cartographer," he pointed to an entry at the top of the list marked: 'James Clay - Cartographer - Milltown'.

"One-twenty. One-forty. One-fifty."

"Can they see us?" Clara said, suddenly nervous.

"Erm, sort of."

The list of entries flashed on the screen as the array expanded its range.

"Can they locate us from it?"

"No, of course not," Gabriel snickered. "I mean, good question. But no, not without more advanced systems like mine. This is just raw data."

"What if they have advanced systems?"

"Who?"

"Those people out there."

"I have defences."

Clara rubbed her silver watch as the list of entries staggered to a halt. Their comms now put them within range of the Golden City. She was still, breathing softly, as though they might hear her. Any moment now, she expected the lights to turn out, the speakers to play a menacing voice: "There you are," and a bang at the door. "We could have started a family. Children." They'd imprison Clara, kill Andy, and use her up.

Gabriel inspected the final string of numbers and its name tag. "Looks like an old, pre-cat radio station. The connection is open. Three-hundred and eighty miles out. One moment." He fiddled with the dials of a rack unit, turning up his speakers. Static played over the channel, ceaseless and devoid. "Ah well."

Sighing, Clara shook herself, embarrassed for having panicked, but glad she hadn't shown it to the others. "Open a channel to James."

"Requesting now."

After a minute, a dialogue window appeared on one screen. "He's asking who you are," Gabriel relayed.

"Get him on the radio," Clara said. "Tell him who I am."

A short while later, a thin white noise seeped through Gabriel's speakers, heralding the connection with the cartographer.

"Clara, it's good to hear from you." James' voice sounded thinner through the speakers than she remembered. "Are you well?"

"Yeah, pretty good. I've got information to sell."

"That's what I like to hear."

"One thing first though," Clara said. "The New Patricians… are they in Milltown?"

White noise filled the pause. "They've been gone a few months," James said. "Expect they'll come back to steal our harvest."

"That might not be the case," Clara said. "We had a run-in."

James laughed dryly. "You work for them now?"

"No," Clara said, somewhat shocked. "No. James, come on."

"I don't know, do I."

Clara tried to imagine the old man's expression, the years of contention and defeat clinging to his proud eyes.

"It's a good job you warned us about them," Clara said, though in truth, it had made little difference. "We got into a fight with them. Alister's dead."

"That slimy son-of-a bitch?" The speakers distorted as James raised his voice. "Did you kill him? Did you make sure?"

Clara's heart grew heavy. "Yeah."

There was a clattering sound over the speaker. James' voice grew distant, submerged in the thin static. He was unresponsive for a few minutes, then returned. "Consider your debt whipped, young lady. You've done me a gift today." His voice shook vibrantly. "Alister is dead. That's what you get you son-of-a bitch. You-" James hissed through his teeth, then growled, and there was a crashing sound, like someone slamming their fist. "Well done Clara. You did what I couldn't. Well done."

"Cheers," she said, detachedly. "We need zoning data."

"Of course," James said. "Where for?"

"Well, what have you got?"

During the next hour, the cartographer transmitted his records via the linkup, and Clara downloaded them onto her terminal. Once finished, they said their goodbyes; James promised to cook them a meal if they ever travelled through Milltown again. Clara lounged in the bed, scrolling through her terminal. One zone at a time, she stitched together an image of the post-cataclysmic world.

To the north beyond the Golden City, an entire nation had been engulfed in snowy mountains. Giant ranges had risen from the flatlands during the cataclysm, unearthing cities like a dog shaking flees from its back. An entire nation had been destroyed. Beyond the mountains, James conveyed scattered reports of giants and stone golems roving the land, but few travellers had survived to glean any useful information.

East, beyond the region of fae creatures was a swathe of wildfires had scorched the land, sucking the oxygen from the air. An unusual colouration filled the edge of her map, as though the data had glitched. Zooming out, her eyes widened as she realised that the patch was in fact an enormous apocalypse zone marked: 'Extinction event: Asteroid'. At the furthest minimization, each other apocalypse zone was as small as a marker-pen dot, but the edges of the asteroid's impact spread out past her thumb, a blemish on an incomprehensible scale.

"I had no idea they could be so big."

South of their bunker, a volcanic region cremated almost the entirety of a peninsula nation. Flicking between her pre-cataclysm and modern maps, Clara noticed a discrepancy with the landmass. Where once had been an ancient capital, now was a blank, blue patch. At its centre was a blue dot, signifying a human settlement. Clara showed Gabriel the location. "Have you picked up any signals from here?"

"Why yes," Gabriel said, scrolling through the list, he opened the transmission. A woman's voice spoke lyrically over the speakers.

"Altura welcomes trade. Come the hungry, the frightened, the weary, and refuge upon the waves. Though the land is arid, the sea is kind. While the sky burned, the waters calmed. And though your heart may stray for firmer footing, furtive for land, unfurl your sails and let loose your heart, for to Altura, the wind shall guide… the strong, the hopeful, the brave, shall we all come to learn their names."

Clara stared Gabriel dead in the eyes. He fidgeted and looked away. "Sounds good."

"Sounds brilliant," she beamed. "'Sounds like employment to me."